Out of

Out of Chapter Two MISS Eunice had never been to Crow's Nest. The roads were poor, the peo- ple undesirable. Such were her early impressions. Her father had regarded it as the fly in the county's otherwise perfect ointment. He considered it a place of pestilence and law defiance, as the refuge of people who needed isolation. Now as she rode over the narrow, slop- ing dugways and rutted roads, saw the jutting rocks and the starved, blighted vegetation, a great pity smote her heart. The stunted hickory trees, the sickly looking persimmons, the sparse underbrush indicated that nature had a great struggle merely to exist; how could humans prosper under such condi- tions? Unbridged gullys bore mute evidence of the difficulty of travel; for a certainty the county's road money went in other directions. It seemed a marvel that these peo- ple could produce as good a living as they did. The school house, which the state law required, was unprepossessing and forlorn, no stimulus to the education which these mountaineers were reputed to discourage. The old car lurched and swayed, ground over high centers, sank into deep ruts. 1 HIS Steve Turner you're lookin' for was a queer old sort," volunteered her guide. "Minded his own business, he did. Never came to town 'cept ter trade a bit. Tobacco and snuff, coaloil and calico, seemed all he ever want- ed. Bullets of course. Lots of 'em. Paid his bills in silver. He could read all right, but his old woman couldn't, and he figured his kid didn't need much larnin'. Kept the boy hoein' corn and tendin' cows. Finally the old man died, and the boy married a neighbor girl. Kept a livin' right on in the same old house. That's it — over yonder. Seems like I can make out the same sunflowers that was there the time I drove the minister up the night old Steve died. There should be a stove pipe sticking out the side window, and dog holes under the cabin. There should be all sorts of old plunder round the house, wagon wheels and broken careful to be polite B u mine Jg^IVY WILLIAMS STONE KD had predicted. Three mongrel dogs came yelping from their holes under the house; a small boy, clothed in a solitary garment of ragged overalls, stood gaping in the doorway. A mottled pig turned defiantly at the dogs and grunted off to seclusion and peace. x\T sight of the visit- ors the child fled indoors and pre- sently an old woman, barefooted but clutching a corn-cob pipe be- tween the stumps of ancient teeth, made her appearance. Her face was seared with the mark of many winters and stoical endurance of life's trials. "Howdy?" she queried not un- kindly. "Are you Mrs. Turner? Mrs. Steve Turner?" Miss Eunice was plows. Steve was great never to let go of things. Wouldn't sur- prise me to see the glint of his rifle. He was sure some shot." "Over yonder" led them down another dugway, through a more precipitous gully. Scraggily hazel nut trees encrouched on the road; huckleberries waved dust-laden branches against the car. The ruts grew more pronounced; the car, built for hard ^jA climbing, creaked in ^S''J%a protest. With a final Jw'C'V stutter and a raucous fk;h\ S$f$iJ blast, it stepped in <|«g* the unfenced door-, Wtfffii&hWj yard of t1- Turner home It was all as the guide I be that, stranger." The old eyes never shifted their questioning gaze. "Well," began Miss Eunice. "You see — I want to buy — that is my brother — I like the view up here. Do you own your home — your land — would you sell for money?" "Sell?" A harsh note followed by an incredulous laugh gave her answer. "Nobody ain't fur buyin' this no 'count land, an' I ^ ain't fur sellin'. My old man's pappy got this from the "Fie observed a shiny new baby buggy — a twin buggy — * * two sleeping babies.'

194 The Improvement Era for January, 1930 Presently came Young Steve. guvernment, and now he ain't here no more, my boy gets it, and then his chilluns." "But I want to buy," persisted Miss Eunice. "Could I talk to your son — could I come in?" 1 HE old woman cup- ped her hands in the direction taken by the retreating pig and boomed out stentorian notes. Then she led the way into the one- roomed house. A younger woman sat on one of the few chairs, sew- ing. A flower sack was being clumsily shaped into an infant's garment. A little girl lay on the rough board floor, playing with a rag doll. "Cassy ain't feelin' smart," vol- unteered the old woman. "Set," she continued, and pulled out the remaining chair and a long bench. The small boy crawled under the table, tucked his thumb in his mouth, and cast fur- tive glances at Miss Eunice. Presently came young Steve, stalwart, raw-boned, full-chested. His overalls were held in place by one perilous suspender; his coarse gray shirt was open at the neck, revealing sun-tanned, hairy skin. "This yere stranger," began the old woman — "My name is Harrison. Miss Eunice Harrison, sister of Judge Harrison." "The Jedge what's aimin' ter send old Silas up for sellin' whis- ky?" queried Steve in a booming voice. "He don't know nothin' else." "Well, I don't want whisky," Miss Eunice hastened to explain. "I want land, for girls who need homes. I'd like to buy your home, Mr. Turner." "Ain't sellin'." The finality of the tone would have discouraged a less persistent person than Miss Eunice. "But it must cost you dreadfully to live here, and your children will soon need better schools — " "What's good 'nough fur ther pappy, oughter be good 'nough fur them, I reckon." "But taxes are dreadfully high," continued Miss Eunice. "How do you manage? Taxes mean money; hard dollars. How much do you pay? "Don't know nothin' 'bout taxes." Young Steve seemed bored and indifferent. This yere land was my pappy's, and his pappy's 'fore him. We owns this land, we does." "But the law can take land away — sell it to others — when taxes are not paid — " A- lT this point the young woman looked up from her work. She and the older woman exchanged furtive glances. Then the old mother moved to a corner curtain and pulled forth a small bundle of letters. Young Steve glanced toward his polished rifle on the wall. "No law kin take this land," he boasted. But the old mother turned abruptly on Miss Eunice and demanded, "Kin you read? Good?" "I have been to school," ad- mitted Miss Eunice. "Read this then," ordered the old mother. "I kept 'em. They come one a year, after pappy died. They is six on 'em. Then they didn't come no more." WlTH deft, alert hands, Miss Eunice sorted the six unopened, legal letters into chrono- logical order. The first one dated ten years back; five notices of tax sale, and final notice of title pass- ing to Judge Harrison. With a chill like nausea she forced herself to read the letters one by one, and to explain their contents to her slowly comprehending audience. "Pap had larnin'. He knowed 'bout letters," defended the old mother. "I reckoned these letters was tellin' me Steve had to go to war. There was a war," she finished defiantly. "Steve war too young tother time." The old mouth fell agape; the pipe clat- tered to the floor. "Oh, Mrs. Turner," cried Miss Eunice in genuine alarm. "Come home with me. Tell your story to my brother, who owns your farm. I feel sure he will be fair with you. Come with me now. I will be good to you. I will bring you home safely." • The old woman glanced toward the daughter, with her pale face and heavy figure. The child on the floor gave a long wail; outside a dog whined dismally. "I knowed last night, when I swept this yere floor after dark, somethin' war goin' ter happen," muttered the young woman. Young Steve rose to his full height, powerful, domi- nant. Even as her father had dominated Miss Eunice, this man ruled his womenfolks. He reached for the polished rifle. "Stranger," he answered in slow even drawl, "you-all go home." "Oh let me buy," cried Miss Eunice. "I will pay you for your farm." "You-all go home," continued the unruffled voice. "You come peaceful; go peaceful. There ain't no law kin take this land from we-uns, nor no Jedge what kin send old Silas ter jail fer makin' corn whisky. You-all tell yer brother t'aint healthy ter fuss round the folks in Crow's Nest, nor ter bother Steve Turner's land." He stalked to the door and stood waiting. The two women shut their mouths in finality, the old woman picked up her pipe; the younger one shook out the small garment she was fashioning. "You'uns better hurry ter git off the dugway fore dark," ad- monished Steve, not unkindly. Mi .MISS Eunice, crest- fallen and disappointed, passed out to her waiting guide. Above the noise of the car came the yelp of a solitary dog and the whine of a bullet perilously near a tire. "Steve is sure showing how he kin shoot." The guide's laugh was somewhat forced. "He ain't wantin' us back here very soon." The next evening Miss Eunice

The Improvement Era for January, 1930 195 sought her brother in his home. Whatever his anger, it could not add to her mental distress. What had she done? What terror had she loosed? Steve Turner might come and shoot the judge; such things had happened before. He recognized no law save that of pos- session. Judge Harrison was pacing the parlor floor. Bowed head; clasped hands; he looked dejected, defeat- ed. Age seemed to have caught him in a fierce clutch. "Oh, James," began Miss Eunice without preamble. "I am in real trouble. I have — " James put up his hand in an admonitory gesture. "Whatever your trouble," he interrupted, "it cannot equal mine. Echo — has — " "Oh," breathed Miss Eunice. "Is she dead?" "She has presented me with twins — Girls. Two daughters. She is very ill. She will recover, but she can never, never have an- other child. My son — " he choked and stopped. A: LS in the days of his infantile hurts Miss Eunice gath- ered him in her arms and kissed him, muttering comforting little nothings. He was Jimmy again. "It could have been so much worse," consoled Miss Eunice. "Had Echo or the babies died, that would have been trouble. But twins, James! They will be lovely. I have none." She struggled for self-control and continued. "I wanted to tell you, James. You must guard yourself. I went — " "Father was right," interrupted James. I did not need the old home. You were right. No son of mine will ever be born there. Tell me your trouble some other time, Eunice. Tonight, my cup is brimming over." OILAS Hoggan's trial came up the next month. Much publicity was given to the event. Judge Harrison was deter- mined to convict; evidence was plentiful. Old Silas and his buck- board, his two whisky jugs and a lank dog, had been a familiar spectacle around the town for years. Somewhere at the far end of Crow's Nest he kept his "old woman." She rarely came to town. Their family consisted solely of mongrel dogs and an occasional tame possum or woodchuck. Ever since his arrest Old Silas had re- posed in the county jail. His troubles sat lightly upon his con- science, but he stubbornly refused the service of any attorney. He was suspicious of their easy speech, their finer clothes, their assurance. 'This air an easy life," he com- mented. "Nary a stick of wood ter chop; nary a row of corn ter hoe. Free terbaccy. If I only had that thar jug!" On the day of the trial a large crowd gathered at the Court House. This was a new sensation. Conviction of a mountain moon- shiner. The old judge had scorned to recognize their existence. Old Silas going to jail! What of his buckboard, his dogs — his old woman? r RACTICALLY every adult of Crow's Nest who could secure means of conveyance came down for the trial. Women who had not been to town since their marriage, rode double with their men; horses, mules, buckboards and an occasional auto of ancient vintage were pressed into service. One or two men openly carried firearms and talked threateningly. But they were mostly an orderly, silent, subdued group of people; self conscious before the "valley folks;" stunned at the prospect of the curb on their "borned liberty." Steve Turner came early. He had many errands. Cassy's eggs and butter had to be traded for necessities. He needed traps against the winter's catch. A grist of corn had to go to the mill. There was medicine for Cassy; urgent need for medicine existed back in the mountain cabin. In the pocket of his best coat he carried the precious six letters his mother had kept secret for so long. As he drove he brooded over his troubles. No valley "jedge" could rob him of his heritage; taxes were no part of his scheme of life. If what that stranger woman had said was true, he would settle with that "jedge fore sundown." In addition there was Cassy. A sick woman. She was lying in the bed back in the cabin, fevered up and knowing no- body. And there was no baby to urge her to live. He would have the burying the next day; after folks got back from the trial. His mother was gettin' old; too old to midwife. Couldn't see well now. He might have to get one of these new style doctors. Miss Eunice > H IS errands accom- plished, he tied his team behind the Court House. Many mountain ve- hicles stood about, but their oc- cupants were crowded into the court room. As he entered he observed a shiny new baby buggy — a twin buggy — carefully parked behind the shelter of an overhang- ing lilac. He glanced at the beau- tifully clad occupants — two sleep- ing babies. Babies that looked alike. He thought of Cassy and anger flooded his soul. "Them little ones do be alike," he muttered out loud. "The judge's daughters," ex- plained a late comer, hastening in, without glancing toward the tall mountaineer. Steve Turner had difficulty in securing a clerk to answer his question — who owned his land? By slow degrees, however, he learned the stark truth. He had no home. A stranger, this valley judge, held lawful title to the mountain lands his grandfather had homesteaded. He moved to the edge of the crowd that overflowed into the hall. Some one was speaking. He pushed and elbowed until he could vision the speaker. Stern of vis- age, stern of voice, Judge James Fleming Harrison was passing sen- tence upon the indifferent Silas. Old Mrs. Hoggan sat beside her spouse, shrinking, timid, half dazed. Steve slowly drew his right hand back to his hip pocket. What mattered? What could matter now? Cassy sick; baby dead; his mother, all of them, homeless. He was entitled to revenge. Then suddenly a vision of the two sleep- ing babies and of the babyless

196 The Improvement Era for January, 1930 Cassy flashed before his mind. His mouth gaped at the daring of the thought — a living revenge! JTE slid softly out of the crowd, outside. No one was in sight. All eyes were intent upon the face of the judge, self import- ant, in the passing of his first sen- tence. All ears were intent upon his words. It was but the work of a moment for Steve Turner, skilled in softly stalking elusive game, to transfer one of the sleep- ing babies. He concealed it in the rear of the buckboard. Pillowed on the sack of corn meal, covered with the aged tarpaulin, surround- ed by numerous bundles, littie Pamela Harrison began a changed existence. While her sister Portia slept on under the silken quilts, Pamela rested quietly on the bag of meal. Ten minutes later, when the crowd came pouring out, jok- ing, laughing, deriding, Pamela was on her way to a new home, a new mother, a new life. By the time Echo had finished praising her husband for his wonderful speech of conviction, and had gone to claim her infants, Steve Turner and his precious luggage were on their way to Crow's Nest. By the time Echo screamed and fainted at her discovery, Steve Turner knew he had succeeded. He knew that soon Cassy's fever would be cured. (To be Continued) r The Story So Far Contents of the will of Judge James Fleming Harrison proved to be a great surprise to his son and daughter, for the old family home he had left to Eunice, and title to some mountain coal lands, near Crow's Nest, to her brother. Eunice, having lived a cowed and dispirited girlhood, revived under the new sit- uation, and gloried in her heritage, with its possibilities. Greatly to the consternation of her brother, who wanted the home for the birth- place of his son-to-be, she an- nounced her decision to turn it in- to a refuge for underprivileged girls. James Fleming Harrison, Jr., ap- pointed to fill the vacancy caused by the death of the Judge, determined to prosecute the mountaineer moon- shiners as thoroughly as his father had ignored them. Miss Eunice, discovering the fact that title to the Crow's Nest land consisted of tax sale deeds, began to worry about the ignorant people of the moun- tains, and resolved to go up and see for herself the conditions sur- rounding the Turner family, to whom the property had belonged. ^Report of Accomplishments November, 1929 Y. M. M. I. A. STAKES Bear Lake Bear River Cache Cassia Emery Lehi Lost River North Sanpete Pocatello South Davis ... Weber Yellowstone ... ft a- 66 2/3 I 61 -a s < a > c 54 82 25 100 44 100 33 80 40 100 55 40 72 65 38 100 22 100 16 60 40 100 88 70 Week by Week Program 3 Hi S «8 bJ 3 >■ So 3 o m I n 3 > o 72 56 72 100 55 100 50 60 70 100 100 70 45 54 18 63 48 16 66 33 82 60 25 60 12 60 60 80 20 100 55 33 44 44 82 33 82 82 100 33 33 16 16 100 40 80 100 60 40 60 100 70 100 63 100 63 100 55 33 77 33 66 10 30 60 40 30 63 82 100 66 100 50 100 70 63 100 70 Note: Y. M. M. I. A. reports for Sept. and Oct. were received too late for the last issue from the following stakes: Burley, Cottonwood, Emery, Ensign, Hyrum, Liberty, Lost River, Oneida, Oquirrh, Moapa, Maricopa, Minidoka, Mount Ogden, Portneuf, San Francisco, So. Davis, So. Sanpete, St. George, Star Valley, Utah, Weber, West Jordan, Young, Juab, No. Davis, Snowflake and Central States Mission. Reports which are to be included in the regular columns must be sent by ward secretaries to the stake secretary the day after the last M. I. A., meeting each month, and the stake secretary must send it in to the general office by the first of the month. Y. L. M. I. A. STAKES 1 u IV 66 2/3 Week by Week Program T3 a p <u rt a KM 4| bCrg i— i 3 T3 u 0) a 3 0 • !-» a 3 &! p. a*." 3 > o Bannock Bear Lake Bear River Benson Boxelder Cache Carbon Cassia Deseret Duchesne Emery Franklin Fremont Garfield Granite Grant Gunnison Idaho Falls Juab Kolob Lehi Liberty Logan Los Angeles Minidoka Moapa Moroni Nebo North Sanpete North Weber Ogden Oquirrh Panguitch Parowan Pocatello Raft River St. George Snowflake South Sanpete South Sevier Sharon St. Joseph Salt Lake Teton Tooele Union Utah Wasatch Wayne Weber West Jordan Yellowstone California Mission 40 37 76 71 100 75 71 60 35 45 45 82 57 62 50 36 85 30 100 50 82 66 81 80 85 89 75 89 60 43 56 65 33 28 50 82 59 89 85 62 85 85 •58 85 60 100 56 100 34 45 74 90 48 20 46 69 50 100 85 57 40 50 56 45 73 73 73 80 78 85 30 100 65 65 82 100 80 25 67 100 89 60 78 100 100 33 28 90 33 71 45 100 75 85 50 65 67 60 83 89 67 34 89 100 70 30 20 20 67 67 57 50 89 71 85 72 100 100 57 57 40 20 58 58 67 46 67 56 91 73 100 64 62 60 80 90 58 86 100 100 64 64 100 100 82 82 100 82 90 100 89 89 90 100 50 13 78 100 100 75 78 78 100 80 89 36 89 78 100 100 33 17 28 19 80 80 65 33 83 59 89 45 72 85 62 50 85 85 50 50 87 80 100 30 60 40 100 83 89 100 100 67 50 100 100 100 85 85 90 40 30 27 10 45 76 85 65 100 15 20 58 34 78 73 78 75 90 78 100 43 100 82 65 100 89 100 13 80 75 67 80 50 78 100 20 28 100 50 47 34 100 50 85 43 87 30 60 100 100 67 17 100 74 40 22 20 45 89 89 85 100 71 40 65 45 56 73 100 80 90 86 85 57 100 82 82 100 100 100 50 71 89 60 57 91 100 20 28 80 33 59 67 100 62 85 57 87 30 50 83 | 100 78 17 100 85 60 27 20 20 76 34 100 75 15 20 40 23 45 20 37 43 67 36 60 17 100 74 56 40 25 56 100 45 60 64 89 100 19 70 40 45 52 25 '50 65 30 40 33 34 100 56 85 100 30 30 45 82 85 70 62 71 60 57 34 56 46 67 50 60 64 85 64 100 50 100 64 80 61 67 100 89 100 78 91 33 33 28 90 82 63 56 100 37 50 65 70 30 76 23 25 34 78 61 40 30 30 56 89 100 96 71 60 73 78 78 91 100 62 100 84 64 80 82 100 100 100 73 89 75 89 100 85 100 100 17 19 82 100 100 62 100 92 100 75 70 100 100 50 100 90 50