The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1891-06-18

:V1p and I was a tender
foot then, anyway. This is how ]
.chummed it with my little Indian:
l was swinging my red-and-blue
clubs under the pepper-tree at the
back OF the railroad station. This I
did because had theory that exer-
else was good for a man living on q
desert. The lazy Mexicans and most
OF the Americans thereabouts had no
ruddy glow on their faces. They were
all sallow. What I wanted was rud-
,dy glow.
My red-and- blue clubs circled about
very prettily that day, and the ruddy
glow came; also q dripping epidermis
and big desire to sit down in the
shade OF the pepper-tree and blow TO-
bacco smoke The tree was a small
one. When the station tank ran over,
which was not often, it's roots receiv-
a little moisture. So it grew, slowly.
AS soon as | dropped my clubs a
squeal OF disgust went up from some
where, and, as [ turned about, saw
a small brown head dart behind a
cactus lined rock.
l said nothing, but leaned back in
my seat, pulled my sombrero down
over my face and slammed sleep,
with one-half closed eye on the rock
and tile big cactus shrubs. No use.
You can not get an Apache out OF his
hole in that way.
Next day, with my beautiful exer-
else theory still bristling in my brain.
I turned quickly while in the midst of
my club swinging, and saw the wide
open eyes and gaping of the cum
ningest little savage | had ever beheld.
He sprang about and fled behind the
rock, but not too quickly for me to
read xxx Family Flour" in large
red letters on his back. His one short
garment was a cotton sack, with
holes cut through it for his head and
arms. .~,>-..> .
"Come, Tads," I cried christening
him in that feeting second with a
name that stuck to him all his life,
+'out OF that" And jumped behind
the rock swinging an open hand that
did not grasp the four-sack as had
intended it should.
Where was the wee savage?
Like a lizard, he had darted from
sight somewhere in that little patch
OF rocks and cactus, though there did
not appear to be cover enough there
to conceal jack-rabbit
''Ihe splnes must scratch him."
hO oh ~
cactus; but l did not know then how
Apaches put up with such small irri-
tations. Not wanting to give the boy
unnecessary torture, I went back to
my clubs. Throwing my eyes about
again, Icaught another fleeing glimpse
OF the brown head as it lodged behind
the rock.
Tads must have been disappointed
next day, for there was no club-swing-
ing under the pepper-tree. The duties
OF telegraph agent lay too heavily
upon me and the sun lay too heavily
upon the desert. I saw Tads steal
away from his lair about two hours
alter my usual exercise time and walk
down the sand-drifts with detected
air, his one garment Tapping In the
hot wind.
A wild nature like his was proof
against such snares as the toothsome
CONNECTION, the golden orange, or the
meay peanut. / found that out bv
trial in the course of the next week.
But an old jack-knife won him over.
That was something his Apache mind
could grasp. 1t was greater delight
to MN than the red-and-blue clubs.
Sworn friends from that day were
"Tads and l. His talk was ridicu-
lous mixture Of English, Spanish and
Apache, and his voice was very
throaty. But l understood him.
andian-like, he said little. It was,
therefore, easy to get along with him.
lie would sit for hours on a high
stool listening to the "tunk-tunk-
tunk' OF my sounder. The telegraph
was an awful mystery to him at first,
and it squelched his imagination; but
ne solved the problem at last. A man
away off in the mountains spoke with
his finger to me, and spoke back to
nm. That was his idea of it, and it
was not a bad one, either. The hum
mlngs OF the wires overhead were the
voices ofpeople with ponderous fingers,
but they we're not OF this world.
How the cowboys laughed when
they saw Tads and me at the STA
ton.
"That tenderfoot's a queer one."
they said of me.
The despised Apache could not
crawl into their hearts-not even if he
were 6-year old.
"He'll steal everything the tender
toot's got" they pleasantly averred.
But he did not.
When Tads left the station of an
evening, his little brown feet battered
straight over the roads to the wicki-
ups, half mile away. In time he
wore narrow trail over to the
huts.
"Pitty vell," was what Tads would
grunt to me every day when he came
shyly into the office, and / greeted him
with friendly, "How-de-do?" Then
he would shrugh his shoulder in way
that would wrinkle the three KS in
TO such bewildering folds that you
could not have read them unless YOU
had known what they were before
hand.
One 1au ut,;1o Lo $780,, -. =