The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

Sold only in the red and yellow packages. Never sold in hulk. Toasted and tasty, slightly salted, nutty - flavored, little wafers . . . Christie’s “Rita” . , , first choice of thousands of discrimin- ating Canadian hostesses. Oasistie’s Biscuits "there's a Christie Biscuit for every taste.’* TEXAS GUNS . SYNOPSISâ€"Silas Spelle, high- handed, low-principled cattle baron, Is cut to smash the local bank and force foreclosure on the small ranchers of the Kanab desert country so that he can seize their range lands. He is opposed by Ed. Starbuck, president of the Cattle- men's Bank and by San Juan Dele- van, prominent rancher who has been crippled by a fall from his horse. Tex Whipple and his part- ner, Johnny Clehoe, are cowpunch- ers employed by San Juan Delevan to fight the rustlers and protect his interests. CHAPTER XVII Johnny jumped from his blankets and, scratched a match, and a mo- ment later the smokey lamp of the big bunkhouse table threw out pale gleams of yellow light. Pink Cros- by, one side of his cherubic face streaked with dried blood sighed with relief as he lowered the big, limp body of Pod Fortune on a blink. Then he wobbled and would have fallen himself if Johnny had mot leaped forward and steadied him. There was a partially emp- tied bottle of whiskey on a shelf and Johnny caught it clown and gave Pink a long drink. "What the heck happened?” he demanded.- Pink, steadied by the liquor, sank Into a chair and stared at Johnny apathetically. “Spelle’s crowd,” he answered tonelessly. “Tried all af- ternoon in town to start somethin’ with me an’ Pod. We wanted to keep ou ta their way. They outnum- bered us an’ besides we didn’t want me trouble. Pod an’ me ain’t gun- fighters. Then come dark we start- ed back to the ranch. Damned if the dirty skunks didn't dry-gulch as. We was ridin’ along quiet an’ easy an’ all of a sudden from a head o’ sage came a streak o’ fire to’ the whang of a gun. Ole Pod grunted an’ dropped. Gosh! I hoard the slug hit him. I went for my own hawg-laig but before 1 could turn it loose somethin’ larruped me alongside the haid an’ down I went. A Nasty Wound “I wasn’t out, but somehow I couldn’t seem to move. Right away four or five hombres came ridin’ out - . **. '-â-  . -- ..- . â-  0 the brush an’ scared our broncs off. They was laughin’ an’ jokin’. One o’ them says ‘That pays fer Fair an’ Donnelly, but we gotta get one more o’ that damned gang to square it up fer Durbin.’ Sounded to me like Montana Wade’s voice. Then somebody else chimed in say- in’ that the old man, meanin’ Spelle 1 reckin, was figgerin’ on rushin’ the Box D an’ cleanin’ out on the whole caboodle. ‘‘I was kinda driftin’ off -about that time an’ I couldn’t make much sense of the rest I heard. I did hear somebody mention Miss Ron- ny’s name an’ then they all laugh- ed kinda nasty like. After that they haided back toward tewn. I nmsta laid there for an hour before I could get up. 1 went over to Pod an’ found he was still alive. Then I had one hell of a time ketchin’ our broncos, which had run off quite a ways. I got 'em finally an’ managed to pile pore ole Pod across his hull. Then I «orne on in. Tha’s allâ€"’ceptin’ jxtre Pod. Hpw bad is he hurt, Johnny?” Johnny bent over Pod Fortune and unbuttoned his blood drenched Shirt. There was a nasty wound, high up on the left breast. Johnny studied it closely for a moment. “Hard tellin’,” he muttered. “Looks like a lung wound to me. Which Help improve your personality with Wrigley’s Gum, Keep your teeth white, breath sweet, by wising healthful Wrigley’s Gum dailyâ€"as millions do. The chil- dren also love the delicious re- freshing flavor of Wrigley’s Double Mint. Take some home today, cs-u AAAAAÀ AAAAA Issue No. 29â€"’38 B by L. P. Holmes ain’t so good. Give him a little o’ this liquor, Pink. I’ll go get the Chink up an’ have him heat some water. Then you an’ him do what yuh can fer Pod. I’m haidin’ fer town after Doc McMurdo.” Johnny jerked on his boots and buckled his gun belt around his hips. Then he went up to the rear where Chang slept and pounded on the door. Off For The Doctor “Hey Chang,” he called softly. “It’s meâ€"Johnny Clehoe.” Presently Chang opened the door and blinked sleepily at Johnny. “Wassa malla?” he creaked. Johnny told him about Pod and what he was to do, then when Chang scurried quickly for the kit- chen, Johnny went to the corral on the run and saddled up. A moment later he was pounding away through the darkness along the trail to Carillion, While McMurdo dressed, Johnny related the paramount incidents of the night and the old Scotchman’s frown deepened as he listened. “ ’Tis a sneakin,’ crafty mon he is, that Spelle. And a pity that the law is but a farce.” “We’ve got law,” was Johnny’s pregnant answer, patting the gun at his hip. “Ay, ladâ€"tr-rue ye are. But ’tis a law of violence.” “Mebbe,” said Johnny briefly. “But it’s the only law Spelle’s kind Simple, Smart Cotton Dress Cardigan Or Shirt Neck . . » Easily Made ! By Louise Lennox A very smart wearable cotton dress .... and it’s washable! It’s easy to sew, and. the price is so pleasingly low. Select a vivid multi-color print in the new look- ing pink or cherry background, and it will be your favorite all summer. Edge the cardigan neck and sleeves with ric rac in a shade picked out of the print. Match the buttons to the braid. Another idea that is very individual, is grey and white novelty checked pique, worn with a narrow red leather belt. The neck and sleeves may have "self-bias trim or repeat the red. For the shirt collared version,” linen, sharkskin or hop- sacking rayon weaves would be delightful for it in dazzling white or a solid color as aqua, shrimp pink, beige, dusty rose, etc., with contrasting zipper. Complete dia- grammed sewing instructions ac- company the pattern. Style No. 2056 is designed for sizes 14, 16, 18, 20 years, 32, 34, 36, 38, 40,,42 and 44 inches bust. Size 36 requires 8 1-8 yards of 19-inch material with 1% yards of braid. Send fifteen cents (15c), (coin is preferred ) for pattern to Peer- less Patterns, Room 421, 73 W. Adelaide St., Toronto. Write plain- ly your name, address and style number. Be sure to state size you wish, -can understand: All set, Doc?” > Ayc__ye’ll tie r-ridin’ with me, lad?” Johnny shod?1 h!s head. ’Tm bangin’ .around *er an hour or so. See yuh later, B0Ci” When McMurdo rode away John- ny went down. 1 o the hash-house and had breakfast. Then, just as the sun peeped over the horizon he sauntered up to Jake Butterfield’s store, to find that, worthy opening up. “Out kinda early, ain’t yuh?” Jake gave his orthodox greeting. “Uh-huh.1 I want to get some smokin’, Jake.” Tried to Buy Me Out Johnny consumed a full hour over this meagre purchase, most of the time being spent as acting the in- terested listener to Butterfield’s ponderous garrulousness. “Some gents,” stated Jake. “Shore want to hawg everythin’. Take Si Spelle fer instance. Why he even tried to buy me out yester- day. He got wrathy as hell when I turned him down. He couldn’t see my side of it a-tall. Pm plumb sat- isfied here. I’m makin’ a good liv- in’ an’ I- wouldn’t know What to do with myself if I had to leave. When I told Spelle that he champed on the hit fer awhile an’ thenâ€"what d’yuh knowâ€"he offered me five hundred dollars cash lf’n| I’d refuse to sell any more supplied to Jim Delevan o’ the Box D.” “No?” Johnny was interested now â€"very interested. “I suppose yuh told him to do to blazes, | Jake?” “Yore dang right I did,” pro- claimed Jake pridefully. “Yessir, I shore did. Why Jim Delevan an’ me are real friends. Jim’s been buyin’ his supplies off’n me fer go- in’ on sixteen years. I told him he wa’nt foolin’ ole Jake none. I told him I knowed he was flggerin’ on grabhin’ off Jim’s spread. An’,” here Jake paused to relieve himself of a mouthful of blackstrap juice and to lend dramatic effect to his words. “I told him I shore hoped Jim would lick him to a stem-wind- in’ frazzle. Yessir that’s jest what I told him. Iâ€"huhâ€"ugh!” CHAPTER XVIII. Jake halted so suddenly he near- ly swallowed his cud of tobacco. He was staring at the door!, his pale eyes bugged out alarmingly. Johnny whirled, crouching. Two men had just entered the store. Johnny and Jake were at the rear of the counter where it was dusky and the two new arrivals were squinting and blinking to adjust their eyes to the gloom after facing the slanting rays outside. Johnny recognized the one in front as Mon- tana Wade. The other was a stran- ger. Flame of Hate Jake moved forward diffidently. “What’ll it be gents?” he asked. “Spelle wants all the .30-30 shells yuh got in stock, Butter-field,” snapped Wade. “Trot ’erh out here quick. My partner an’ me got work to do. Ail' sayâ€"who in hell was yuh talkin’ to jest now?” “Me!” Johmiy’s answer snapped out like the crack of a. whiplash. He stepped forward, “What yuh gonna do about it, yuh damned, yel- low dry-gulcher?” For a moment Wade stood as one stunned. He teetered oh his toes like an animal about to spring, peer- ing at Johnny, the fingers of his right hand uncoiling like flexing claws. Hate flamed in his eyes. “Spike,” he snarled : suddenly. “Here’s one scalp Spelle wantsâ€" bad. He’s one o’ the twei what did fer Fair an’ Donnelly an’ Durbin. Get him!” . With the words Wade- dropped to his knees, snatching at his gun. He died in that position, slump- ing forward on bis face;. Johnny had been waiting for' that move- ment and had gone into flaming ac- tion. “Stay there,” snapped Johnny. “ ’Nother move an’ yulji get. it where Wade did. jJake+-I’H take them .30-30 shells. Put ; ’em in a sack an’ pile on five or six boxes o’ ,45s. Pronto now.” Jake Butterfield, stunned, awed, shivering; his loosely hung tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth in terror, moved, automatically to obey. ; “Here ’tis”, he croaked shakily, shoving a weighty sack Across the counter. “Thirteen boxes o’ ,30-30s an’ six o’ ,45s. That cleans me. W-won’t have no more in" ’till, the end o' the week. Sh-sliall I charge ’em?” CASA LOMA Sir Henry Pellatt million dollar Cast tle-oii-the-Hill, Spadina Road, Tor- onto. Hour’s tour thro’ Castle, tow- er, tunnel, stables, art galleries, and coronation room special exhibits and souvenirs. See “The Fall of Nine- veh," (the king and his wives), painted by order of late Emperor Joseph of Austrtau-has 2!) life size figures on a canvas, 28 feet x 13 feet, and the Vimy Memorial. Open 10 a.m. till 9 p.m. Adults, 26câ€"Child- ren 15c. Sundays, ÃŽS cents. Johnny grinned in spite of him- self, but his - cold eyes never wav- ered from the wounded man at the door. "Yeah, charge ’emâ€"to Jim Dele- van.” Then, lugging the weighty sack in his left hand, Johnny ad- vanced to the door and drove Mas- ters into the street ahead of him. Shoot In The Open “Fork yore hr one an’ git,” snap- ped Johnny. “Yuh can tell Spelle fer me that if he’s got any more gun-men he’s yearnin’ to get rid of to send ’em around. An’ tell him we do our shootin’ out in the open, not sneakin’ around in the brush like a damned side-winder. Get goin’.” When Johnny reached the Box D ranchouse he found Jim Delevan, Ronny, Doc McMurdo and Pink Crosby in conference on the porch. As he rode up to the corrals Ronny advanced to the head of the stairs where she waited until Johnny came clanking up, the sack of am- munition draped over one shoulder. Johnny smiled at her cheerfully. “Nowâ€"now,” he chided -gently. “Chase those scary-scaries outa yore pretty eyes, Miss Ronny. The sun’s ashinin’ an’ J saw a blue-bird down the trail a piece.” Some of the hovering shadow left Ronny’s eyes at this foolishness and she even managed a tremulous little smile. “You should have come back with the Doctor,” she accused. “We’ve been worried sick about you. Iâ€" lâ€"” she gulped a little and winked fast. I’ll Come Back To You” Johnny sobered and caught her elbow with his free hand. “Don’t yuh,” he pleaded. “Not because o’ me. I’ll alius come backâ€"to you.” Pie squeezed her arm tightly and Ronny steered her up the porch to the others. “How’s Pod?” he demanded. “Vera, vera sick,” rumbled Mc- Murdo. “But yon’s a braw mon an’ should cheat Death this time.” “I knew he would,” answered Johnny complacently. “Pod’s too doggoned onery an’ tough to die, huh Pink?” Pink Crosby, his rosy cheeks rather pale, grinned back in answer from beneath the shroud of a white bandage which circled his head. “Y’betcha,” he nodded. “Ole Pod’s one tough bronc.” “How about you?” broke in Dele- van impatiently. “Suppose yuh give . an account o’ yoreself, young fel- ler. What’cha been doin’ an’ what ’cha got in that sack? Looks purty heavy to me.” “Jest a few supplies,” was John- ny’s off-hand reply. “Say Ronnyâ€" how's chances fer a little grub ? I ain’t et since breakfast an’ it's crowdin’ two o’clock now. I’m all gaunted up.” Ronny smiled and scurried away kitchenward. “Humpth/ grunted Delevan. “Yuh shore got a way with yuh, yuh danged young hellion. She never would hop that fast fer me. But yuh got somethin’ to tell us. What’s weighin’ down yore mind?” (To be Continued) Had No Grounds In New York a man filed suit because o:f his wife’s coffee. The court told him that he didn’t have sufficient grounds for divorce. Austria, Normay and Sweden have the lowest birthrates in Europe. FINE CUT