The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1890-04-03


nothing vicious in the straight. look of
her pleading eyes.
Let me have him." she said again.
.'rll take right good care of him, and
he'll have loads o. fun. Ranter'll be
right glad to have him, too
This last was meant as the highest
compliment that could be paid. Any
little boy whom the big dog was will
ing to accept as playmate was honored
indeed.
Jerry kicked in his mothers arms
and held out his hands to the girl and
begged to 90 with her, but his mother
held him close and moved step further
away.
1t was movement of dislike. The
girl understood it. She drew back
as if from blow, and she stopped coax
ing, while her face lost all its bright
animation. She was very sensitive
tomboy apparently.
"Rilly!n
All turned in startled way to see
that Pete Pelter was standing beside
them, with a look in his face that
seemed half sad and half angry.
why, dad! we've got back!'
The girl sprung nimbly up and
caught her father round the neck.
where she clung, kissing his bearded
face. Thc rough mountaineer kissed
her in return, just as better dressed
father would have done, and stroked
her hair very tenderly.
"All right. amt We, Rilly?" he said
''Ranter took good care on We while |
was away? Got to be off again, but I'll
be back this eyenin'."
He kissed her again and put her down
on the ground.
Now you an Ranter be off to yer
fun. He's the comp'ny you've got to
associate with, an no other.''
The girl and the dog ran away to-
gether and the man turned again to
speak to Mrs. Fromer.
Il don't want my gal to be intrudin'
an | won't low her to be intrudin'," he
said, with kind of rude dignity.
''She wasn't intruding. But / will
say this, Pete Pelter, you ought to stay
home more and keep her in some sort
goes on. Why, she's the wors' child on
Hilo Mountain
There hain't no man would say that
to me bout my gal!' the father said
roughly. Then he softened his tone,
remembering it was a woman he spoke
to.
"Ye're wrong bout Rilly," he con-
tinued. ''She amt the wust child.
She's the best child, the lovin'est, gem
erousest. bravest best child that's
goin' It's her way that makes We
think different. an ways depends on
p'ints an view. Rilly amt so bad,
bein' rough, as some is bein' smooth.
Eff her mother wuz livin'-wall, she
showed what she'd ave done when she
gave her that purity name, Amarillo.
She'd ave made her the purtiest be-
haved child on the mountain. But no
other woman don't bother!"
Mr.. Pelter made an awkward bow
and walked off toward his cabin, and
Mrs. Fromer went into the house to
think it over, leaving little Jerry out
side. She was very glad that he had so
soon forgotten Rilly's invitation and
his own disappointment.
No child on the mountain-or off
the mountain, for that matter-was
quite so good as little Jerry Fromer.
His father believed it and his mother
knew it. He made no trouble at all,
but amused himself in all sorts of
pretty little ways, leaving his busy
mother free to attend to the great
amount of work which every house
keeper-even in the mountain cabin in
California-always finds to do.
Almost always the weather per-
mitted him TO play out of doors, so that
he was far happier, as well as far
healthier, than if he were shut up in
the house. And as he never thought of
running away, this was all very salts
factory to the mother. Sometimes she
did not have to look after him from
noon until supper time.
This afternoon was one of those for
tunate times. All through the long,
pleasant time of sunshine the careful
housewife was left undisturbed to work
and to think She thought most of her
own child, of course, but she thought a
good deal about Pete Peters child
also. Perhaps people were little too
hard on Rilly, after all. Perhaps if the
neighbor women would only take a
little more friendly interest in her she
would not be such rude little ruffian.
Really she never knew of the child do
ing anything actually wicked. But she
was such a rowdy.
At length she noticed that the sun
shine had grown dim. Evening was
coming and Jerry's father would soon
be home, and she must bring the little
fellow in and make him neat. as she
always did for the fathers home COM
ing.
She went to the door, but Jerry was
not where she had left him. She looked
quickly about, but her child was no
where in sight. She called; no answer
came. In panic she ran all about the
| house and up and down the road, call
ing as she went; neither sight nor sound
of her child could she gain. Little
Jerry was lost!
That girl! That dreadful girl.' Mrs.
Fromer moaned as she realized that her
baby was gone. But then l would
| have heard her if she had come about. y
Desperate and heartbroken she con-
| tinued her fruitless search, growing
more and more excited with every min
ute When Mr.. Fromer came home he
| found his wife SO nearly frantic that he
could hardly learn from her what had
happened.
1t was terrible thing when he did
learn and realize it. There was no
knowing how long the child had been
| gone, but with darkness coming swift
| ly on he would have time before tie
could be found TO get hopelessly lost in
the forest that was not very far away.
He might be wandering there even
now; and it was no safe place for 4
child to wander. To say nothing of
the dangers of starvation or exhaustion,
wild beasts were not unknown there.
More than once or twice mountain
lions had been seen or heard not very
far from the little scattered settlement.
Very quickly Mr.. Fromer satisfied
himself that his child was indeed gone,
and he was about starting away to
| summon the neighbors to help him in
| the search. when Pete Pelter appeared.
There was trouble in his face and
anxiety in his voice.
WAS Rilly here ag'in after / left YEP