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More flavour?. Thai's because it's better tea n m SALAM TEA Riders '"">• Hoot- Owl Pool by G. H. SHARP CHAPTER I (Continued From Last Week) The grizzled old slieriil buckled on his gunbeh and kissed liis wor- ried-looking wile. "I'll be back tomorrow, Ma. How about a good mulligan with dunip- liii's and a big apple pie? Don't fret, now." She made liiin put on a heavy shirt and his cliaps. He had a long ride to made and it was drizzling rain outside. Hank Roberts was no longer young. Damp weather stove liini up. He gulped another cup of liot, black cotfee and was gone, heading his \ng, grain-fed liorse for a range where trouble rode in the uight. » « » A dozen men sat in tlie lamplight at Webb Winters' ranch house. The room was laden with tobacco smoke. 15roii/td, stern-faced, these men made up the Scissor-Uill Poo!. Most of them had families. F.ach ot them owned a small lierd of cattle and a few acres of land. Nearly all of them had been cow- boys. Webb Winters was the last man to get there. He had been delayed in town until after dark. Mae had taken Bob's death hard. She had broken down and cried a lot and Webb had done what he could to comfort her. That had taken time. Then he'd gone to the undertaker's and picked out a coffin, which had to be loaded on a wagon and started for T'Ob Anderson's ranch. He and Mae had hunted up a preacher. So it wa.s alnio.st midnight when Webb joined the otiier.s. Joe Blake looked hard at him. "We'd abont decided you wasn't corain'. Some of the boys was in favor of settiii' out to find you." "Got delayed in town." "If I was you," spoke one of the crowd, "I wouldn't do much night ridin' alone." v:''.s 12-CO '4855 39- 4i «Uh| Young Cavalitr coUarl More 4Mh and swagger in those big fbbed pockets, deep-set sleeves, his classic is a honey â€" sll one. •s shown here, or with contrast. ralteni 48;.^ tmiies in sizes 12, 14, 16. 18, 20; .10. 32. 34. 36, 38, 40, 42. Size 16 takes 4H yds. 39-in. This patlcrn, easy to use, sim- ple to sew, is tested for lit. Has coniplcic ilhislrated instrnclions. Send TWENTY-FIVE CENTS '(2Sc) in coins (stamps cannot be accepted) for this pallern. Print plainly SIZE, NAME ADDRESS, STYLE NUMBER. Send order to Bo.\ 1, \2^ lugl. teentli St. New Ti>roiilo, Onl ISSUE 16 â€" 1950 "I'll chance it." Webb moved toward the stove. Somebody had made coffee. He filled a tin cup and faced them. Joe Blake and another man had the only two chairs in the cabin. The others sat around on tlie floor. "You men know what happened," Webb told them. "Bob got killed. There was more than one of 'em. He was outnumered, but he put up a scrap. There was blood near the door and there was blood outside. He fought 'em 'til they downed him. Are you goin' to help me hunt down the snakes that murdered Bob Anderson, or do I tackle the job alone?" "You can count on ine." said Joe Blake. "We're all with you. I reckon," spoke another man. "If it's war that Ab Abbott is lookin' for," said a lean-faced man with a scar across his jaw, "he kin find it. Bob Anderson was a white man any way you took him." Others voiced their opinion. The probem was how tliey would go about this range war. One man was in favor of ruiniing oft all the 'i'riangle stock they could round up. Another suggested burn- ing off the Triangle range. The lean-faced man with the knife- scarred jaw opined that the only v.ay to wipe out a snake den is to thumb a gun liammer. The older men, those who had wives and fam- ilies, kept silent for the most part. Kvery man there knew the strength of the Triangle outfit. They would be bucking u million- dollar spread, and Ab Abbott's cowboys were all tough hands. Ab Abbott had threatened that he would break up the .Scissor-Bill Pool and run every m'du of thera out of the country. This was not the first meeting of the I'ool ranch- ers. They liad met at Joe filakc's place the last time. Joe Klake had been elected boss of the fool. The others now waited for that tight- lipped Oklahoman to speak. "What's your idea, loci" asked Webb. "Don't laioii as 1 have one. Webb, unless it would be to force Ab Abbott into buyin' us out. I got the old woman and kids to > think about. / â€" " "Ab Abbott," Webb cut in, his voice liarsli, "hasn't enough money to buy me out. Bob Anderson and me was sort of partners. Boh got murdered. If you feel like sellin'. go ahead." "Yon mean you'ije declariu' war on the Triangle?" asked Joe Blake. "Just that. ICven if I itavc to make a Tone light of it. ' "I'll hang and rattle vvitii yon," said the knife-scarred cowboy who spoke with the soft drawl of a Tc.>(an. "Me and Kd. Yoimg come up to Montana from down yonder. We was raised together from kids. They bushwhacked lid. I'll string my bets along with yoinii. Webb. I don't blame Joe Blake for not wantin' to mess into a fight. Like he says, he's got a wife and kids. So has sotne of yon other gents. Vou kin sell out or you kin set back and do nolhin'. and no hard fcclin's I kin git in touch with some boys that will be willin' to do a little fighlin'. Tex Jones ain't hckiu' for friends." "We won't have to carry it that far. Tex," said Webb Winters. "We don't want to hire any killers. My idea is this. We'll play our cards close to our bellies. Someliddi in that outfit i'^ Roiii' t(. f;Pt ilrnnk some day in town and l,ilU. Then we'll grab him and gel the naiiic- of l^e men who killed I'.d Vuuag and Bob Anderson. And iliore at Bob's place is a big old cotton wood with a low Ihnb t/liat will take care of 'em. Men, no matter how you tecl about this business, about your wives and families, yon had better either sell out or be ready to fight. What'fi been said tonight or on other nights is just among us. Any man that tells a Triangle man wliat we talk about is lower down than '' a snake." I "I don'l icclion." said Joe Blake, that any man among us would go I to Ab Abbott with any news." ] "I ain't so sine aboui thai," saia 1 Webb. I "Meanin' ju-i v.liali" a^ki-d the I lean-fared lev /* ii '"'â- ' .*â- â- Â¥â€¢>â- â- -> ^y.r%-7' ';/».â- â- ?â- â- "% Show Me The Way To Go Home â€" A bewildered beagle was Tippy, who got stranded on a plank when the Genesee River overflowed its banks and flooded the valley region. ANN£ HIRST "Dear Anne Hirst: f've been narried for seven years â€" and now I think I'm in love with another man I We both have children. He wants me to go away witp him. "I don't know whether 1 ever really loved my husband. My par- ents were always telling m? nobody v.ould ever marry me, because I didn't take anyone seriously. They predicted I'd be an old maid. 1 guess that's the real reason I got married. "This man is a good friend of my husband's, and has been very kind to him. My husbaud has asked me if I am in love, and I've never said so ... I hate to leave him m a way, because he does all he can to please mc. And I would want to take my children, whom he loves so much. "Do you think I'm in love What shall 1 do? * « * L..B.J." Shocking Temptation â- " Temptations come to us all. 'â- 'â-  Some are trivial, some vital. The ' wise course is to see them all for "Meanin"." said Webb, "that there's some man connected with the Scissor-Bill Pool that don't keep his mouth shut. Kd Young got bushwhacked because some- body let it out that Ed was goin' to be ridin' along a certain trail just about a certain hour at night." Webb Winters looked at the others through narrowed, hard eyes. He broke the silence that followed his last words. "Only you men here knew that Bob Anderson was goin' to be home last night. Bob was sup- posed to be atayin' at Joe Blake's. Kvery man here knows that Bob had three thousand dollars in cash and some legal papers on him. The ca.'-h belonged to the Pool. The papers he had were depositions prcivin' his right to a piece of land. I was to meet Bob about noon and we were to take that money to the bank and tile the papers Boli had. "When the mcctiu' at Joe's bioke up. Bob decided to go on home instead of stayin' at Joe's. I roile with Bob to where the trails forked. I went home. Bob went home with that money and them papers on him. Hob was wearin' all his clothes when he got kille<l, His hat was there on the floor alongside him. lie hadn't took off his chaps. I went through his pockets. The money and jiapers was gone. Some man in the Scissor-Bill Pool is either too careless with his talk, or else he's sold out to Ab Abbot. That man is hearin' me now. Who- ever lie is, he's listenin'." (Continued Next Wceki *â-  what they are. and weigh all the * consequences of yielding. * Vou contemplate leaving a * good husband, and taking his * children with you â€" to run off <â-  with a man who already has a * wife! That is shocking, even to " me He could not marry you * until you both are divorced. Di- "â- â-  vorces take time and money. * Meanwhile, what would you * be? Married to one man, living * illegally with another â€" and ex- * posing your little children to all " the scandal that would follow. * To think that you could be * happy with him is folly. You * would never forgive yourself for * deserting your husband, and * separating him from his children. * And 1 predict that the passion * that tempts you now would van- * ish So soon that you would think *â-  it had never been. "â-  1 expect you are bored with the * routine of marriage, with child- * bearing and raising. In such a * mood, you are a natural larget for * any new sensation, and can read- * ily call it love. Yet what sort â- * of mail is this, who would snatch ' you away from your home and * husband, and drag you ttirough a * revolting experience? Surely he * has no integrity, no real concern * for your future peace of mind. * Resist, with everything in you. ♦"Remind him that no fleeting " pleasure is worth the betrayal of * your vows nor the sacrifice of * your integrity and his. * Then never be alone v;ith him * again. * Plunge all your energies into * making your husband content. * Calm his suspicions of your dis- '^ loyalty, and prove by your never- * ending attentions how much you * appreciate his goodness and af- * fection. * This is the only road to peace. * Once you see your critical situa- "• tion as it would appear tc others, * vou will realize is. ♦ t ♦ When temptation comes, see yourself as others would dee you if you yielded to it. One's own pride can often keep her on the right course. Anne Hirst will help you, if you tell her about it. Address her at Box 1. 123 Eighteenth Street, New Toronto, Ont. A SHIPMENT of earthworms bred in British Columbia is help- ing to remove the sea salt from Dutch fields and restore their former fertility. The worms re- place the millions of worms des- troyed by war bombing and the breaching of (ho dikes. -â- -tJ*T."-.'.'.if^' â-  "> ^^jl,£^^^^,y^;^^2,^^^,^,^^^|^^^^^j^^V/' Trust MAGIC for sure-fire baking success! WALNUT BUTTERMILK LOAF Mix and sift twice, thett sift into a bowl, 2J4 c. once-sifted paairy flour (or 2)i c. once- sifted hard- wheat flour), 2 tape. Magic Baking Powder, M tsp. baking soda, 1>^ taps, salt, % tap. ground mace. Mix in % c. lightly- packed brown sugar, H c- rolled oats and 1 c. broken walnuts. Combine 1 w«U-beatei\ egg, 1 c. buttcmulk, 2 taps, grated orange rind, 1 tap. vanilla and 6 tbs. shortening, melted. Make a well in dry ingredicnla and add liquids; mix Ughtly. Turn into a loaf pan (4H 'x 8Vi") which has been greased and lined with greased paper. Bake in a rather slow oven, .'125°, about 1 hour. Serve cold, thinly sliced and lightly buttered. / i:hronicl£s *W GvctrtdoUrve P Clavke It lakes a long time but finally the consumer public gets around to complaining about the things it doesn't like. Years ago the trouble was eggs. "There was a muttering that grew to a grumbling; and a griynbling that grew to a mighty rumbling" and out of the rumbling came the system of having eggs graded and candled according to size and freshhess. Milk was another product that was given extra atten- tion. Nowmtlk is given the greatest possible care â€" properly chilled and inspected every so often for bacteria count and sedimentation â€" too much of either and the milk is condemned. With all this care at the source, if eggs now lose their freshness and milk becomes stale and contaminat- ed, the fault lies with the attention â€" or lack of it â€" which these products receive after being purchased. Now the spotlight is on potatoes. Housewives complain that potatoes haven't the flavour they used to have; they have lost their old-time mealiness; no longer will they fluff up when shaken after being cooked. â- Worst of all, old potatoes often turn black when cooked, and even new potatoes have lost that certain flavour we liked so much in days of yore. So at last Mrs. John Public has got around to asking â€" "What's wrong with bur Ontario potatoes?" Now that IS a question because you see grading of potatoes has long since been compulsory. Graded as to size and quality, that is. Just let a few little potatoes slip in with the big fellows and the producers have to answer for it. And of course scabby potatoes are never offered for sale at all. So -the consumers go to the store and when they buy potatoes by the basket or bag they can be quite sure they will be reasonably uniform in size and also firm and sound. Actually, to all appearances, there shouldn't be a kick in the world about these nice looking potatoes. But the proof of the spud is in the cooking. You boil them, drain them, and mash them â€" and, according to the tem- perament of the potatoes, they may be either watery, or waxey, turn black or look and taste fairly ed'l^le. So you try other ways of cooking â€" steam them; start them with cold water, hot water, add salt first, last, or just as they come to the boil. But it makes very little difference â€" those fluffy, mealy potatoes seem to be gone for good. Experts have come forward with various explanations â€" it's the soil, or the season, or the type of potato, or the way they are cooked. Well, maybe they are right â€" we don't grow potatoes for commercial use ourselves, so we don't pretend to know. But in our small way we have made certain observations and have come to the conclusion that it is thj use of chemical fertilizers and constant spraying that has ruin- ed the flavor of our Ontario pota- toes. How else can we account for the following differences in the potatoe-. V. e have gn wii and those we have boi'ght. Every spring, as seed potatoes, we use the small jiotatues left over from tliose we bought for eating the *â-  year before. We plant them in the ordinary way; we cultivate them, bank them up, and dust them if bugs become troublesome â€" but we DOtf'T u»e commercial fertilizer, * We generally have a fair yield from the number we put in but nothing ' wonderful. Not a great number to a hill and nothing extraordinary as to size. But they do have a good flavor. As n^w potatoes, we eat- and enjoy them. As they mature, and even before the skins arc "set" the potatoes become mealy, and fluff up when mashed. For winter use we buy potatoes from a com- mercial grower â€" from the same grower that our left-over seed came from. His potatoes look bigger and better than our own. They would pass inspection 100 per cent. But when we cook them â€" how different . the flavour! Actually, it doesn't pay us to grow potatoes for our own use â€" it is cheaper to buy them â€" we grow them only because they are so much nicer. Naturally the potatoes we buy have had commercial fertilizer to help'them along. A man who grows potatoes to sell needs big potatoes and plenty of them and for that pur- pose chemical fertilizer brings good results. Perhaps you may say â€" "Oh, it's prohably a difference in the soil in which they are grown." Maybe â€" but our soil is clay-loam and the potatoes we buy are grown on sandy-loam, which, I believe, is generally considered to be the best soil for potato growers. What is the solntion for improv- ing the eating quality of Ontario potatoes? Well, that is one for the experts to figure out. I am just offering our little bit of experience for what it is worth â€" and that mar be nflhing at all. 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