diger was short, a mere five feet four
or five inches, but his immense
breadth of shoulders and chest sur-
mounted by a massive head and
steely eyes created an impression of
forcefulness and determination.

Culminating the short courtship,
Roediger and the widow were quiet-
ly married in Burnaby and spent a
short honeymoon in the rooming
house where Roediger lived. A little
later, they moved to the farm at
Cloverdale, and for the next few
weeks the autumn romance appeared
highly satisfactory to all concerned.

On March 19, 1945, a real estate
salesman appeared with a prospective
purchaser for the farm. Roediger
showed them about the place point-
ing out the buildings and other ad-
vantages. Mrs. Roediger, her atten-
tion drawn to the new arrivals by
her son, was perplexed.

“Who were these strangers?’ she
mused. Casually joining the group,
she learned what had happened.

Roediger, on one of his frequent
visits to Vancouver, had listed the
place for sale with a leading agent,
and the salesman, having found a
likely prospect, was merely showing
him over the property. Mrs. Roe-
diger was amazed.

“George,’’ she said, ‘What gave
you the idea that I wanted to sell
the place?”

Replied Roediger, “Now my dear,
as your husband, I know what is
best for you. Selling the place is
the best thing we can do. After all
the years you have spent on the
farm, it’s about time you enjoyed
the comforts of the city. With the
proceeds, and my funds, we can pur-
chase a nice rooming house in Van-
couver which will mean that you
won't have to do any work. We
will engage chambermaids to look
after the rooms,”

Mrs. Roediger, still taken aback
at the situation, replied, ‘‘But George.
I have already made arrangements
for the farm. Donald is renting it
from me, and he will look after all
the taxes and so on. So we can go
to town any time you wish.”

Roediger had not expected this. It
did not fit in at all with his plans.
Suddenly, ““That boy of yours has
been relying too much on you. It’s
about time he was on his own. As
your husband, I can’t let you do
this.”

Meanwhile, the embarrassed sales-
man turned to his prospect who was
quietly observing the “‘family argu-
ment,’ and both left the farm. Mrs.
Roediger, however, was adamant in
her decision to retain the property

Page Four

for her son. Roediger became angrier
as the moments passed and ended by
using language hardly fitting to a
bridegroom of a few weeks.

A day or two later, Roediger again
in Vancouver, called upon the real
estate agent to enquire what progress
had been made in disposing of the
property. In no uncertain terms, the
salesman told him the deal was
“off.”’ Wisely, the salesman said that
he would have no part of a family
squabble in which property was in-
volved, and he did not wish to sub-
mit any of his clients to a scene such
as Roediger had made the last time.

Angered again, Roediger said that
the boy was lazy and abusive to his
mother, and that the place shouid be
sold. In fact, Roediger went on, if
the place was not sold, he wouid re-
turn to a logging camp to work. He
wasn't going to live on the place,
and he stamped out of the office.

A day or two later, Roediger ar-
rived at the farm from Vancouver.
Donald was working on the tractor
in the yard and looked up as the
older man approached him. ‘‘You
better go and get your mother at
the tram, she’s coming from Van-
couver.”

Donald, surprised, said, “But only
a short while ago I got a call from
Robinson’s store to say that mother
wasn't coming in tonight. She's
going to stay in town.” But Roe-
diger insisted that she was coming
in on the 7 p.m. tram and that he
would have to drive the mile and a
balf to the tram station for her. It
was some time before the tram
would arrive and Donald made small
talk. Knowing that Roediger had
been visiting the doctor about his
eyes, he asked, ‘‘How are your eyes
this evening?’ Roediger was sulky.
He hardly replied, A number of
advances were only repulsed with
mono-syllabic replies or grunts. Tir-
ing of this, Donald finally started
to walk towards the door, then call-
ed back, “‘Don’t you want to come
along with me to meet mother?”

Out of the blue, Roediger replied,
“This is my wife's house and no-
body is going to put me out,”

Amazed, Donald shrugged his
broad shoulders and stalked out to
the car, climbed in and soon was
wheeling down the road towards tlre
tram station. A few minutes later,
he pulled up to find that the tram
had already arrived, but his mother,
as he had expected, was not on
board. Sauntering over to Robin-
son's store at Surrey Centre, Donald
engaged the proprietor in conversa-
tion for a few minutes, and then
drove back towards the farm.

LEE GED VOU Maen

Stopping the car by the garage,
the young man crossed the yard at
a jog trot to tell his stepfather his
trip had been to no purpose, and
that obviously Mrs. Roediger had
stayed in town. Though it was
quite dark that March evening, Don-
ald knew the place so well that he
did not reduce his pace as he ran up
the few steps leading up to the rear
verandah. As he reached the top step,
a searing blast of flame ripped out
from the darkness to his left, accom-
panied by a deafening roar. A tear-
ing pain in the elbow and the lower
part of his back stopped him for an
instant. But Donald was made of
stern stuff. An experienced hunter
he knew the meaning of a shotgun
blast and its direction. Without fal-
tering, Donald turned to his right
and plunged into the open doorway
of the woodshed from whence the
attempt on his life had been made.
At any instant he might feel the hot
flame of a second shot in his face,
but reckless of consequences he grap-
pled with the shadowy figure in the
blackness of the outhouse. Donald
was no child. A lusty young man
of twenty-three, used to an outdoor
life, his powerful arms wrested the
gun away from his assailant, whom
he realized in that instant, was none
other than his stepfather, George
Roediger.

Thoroughly angered, and the pain
tearing at his injured arm and back,
Donald threw the weapon out of
the woodshed door, and closed with
nature's weapons. Fearing that the
powerful man would now pick up
the axe to finish his uncompleted
murderous attack, Donald swung
with his fists so effectively that Roe-
diger fell to the ground. Donald,
burrying outside to secure a flash-
light, heard the figure moving in
the darkness. As he returned with
a flashlight secured from the car, the
words clearly reached him, “I'll get
you yet.”’ But this time Donald
Was not unprepared. Scorning the
use of the gun now lying outside,
Donald gripped a stout piece of
wood and again entered the shed to
meet his assailant. It all ended very
quickly. Roediger slumped to the
floor, insensible, laid low with a
solid blow on the top of the head,
secure now to await the arrival of
the law.

Painfully making his way to the
telephone in the house, Donald
called his friend Robinson, “I've been
shot,’’ he muttered. ‘‘Call the doctor
and the police,’’ then replacing the
receiver, with his blood-covered
hand, he stumbled outside to await
the arrival of the officers. Feeling

THE SHOULDER STRAP