The Monitor-register., 1896-10-02
THAT BOY BOOTS"
BY LEE HAGER.

-DuG We OF Cno Oar N Taucu kuoW him
only as Boots" He drifeed in at the
ranch one evening in early summer, just
as the roundup was drawing to a close.
We were loungipg before the house,
some six or seven of us.-drowsy with
the fatigue of a long days work. and
giving but little heed to the ~listless talk
tnat was passing. But a sudden exolama-
ton from the foreman awakened our
attention.
Boys" he broke out, nodding in the
direction of the river, ''look a.ooming,
now, will yer?"
Along the trail that wound across the
bottom, a lad was trudging slowly
toward the ranch. He was a very little
fellow, apparently not more than twelve
years of age, and clad in a shirt of flaring
red. Over his shoulder he carried a
stick, from which swung a small bundle
done up in a handkerchief-a figure truly
odd enough. But the boots he wore!
His short legs were swallowed up in q
pom u OOOto oO HuShb co SioGCc4uohy ouu
of all proportion to his small body, that
at sight of them We laughed outright.
He passed the gate and came shutting
up, dragging his limbs With an air of
great weariness. Then dofing his hat
with ludicrous di gnity, he babe us a
CHEEKY good evening"" The men
removed their pipes and looked at one
another with a smile. Then Kearney, the
owner of the ranch. said:
well, Boots. what can 1 do for You ?
Come up out of them and show yourself"
The lad was abashed by our greeting;
wonder came into his blue eyes, but he
answered sturdily: my name Is not
Boots; it's Philip Garner, and 1 COM here
to find work"
Our laughter burst forth afresh-the
notion was too absurd-yet We we're won
by the manly air of the lad and his self.
reliance.
Come here, sonny" said Kearney,
more kindly. He raised the lads head
and gazed into his freckled face.
Presently he turned to us with an old
look in his eyes and said: "Something of
a cub, eh ?"
Il was plain that Kearney had taken a
liking to the boy; so had we all of us.
Tacitly he was added to our force. We
found him always willing and of q sunny
temperament, AS we came to know him
better. we drew from him something of
his history.
His had been a hard life. An orphan at
an early age, be had passed under the
care of an uncle, who treated him sternly
aud worked him like a slave. Some
months before, bis upcle, in company
with a party of emigrsnts, had set out
for Montana. For weeks and weeks they
toiled on with their slow moving teams.
Those were weeks Of torment to Boots.
He was looked upon as an encum.
brance, was ouffed by his uncle and
cursed by the other men. His aunt,
querulous by nature and harassed with
petty cares, made lin the bait of her ill
humor. Let anything go wrong, Boots
was sure to smart for it. All of which
he accepted with a good grace and a sore
heart, and bided his time. One night,
he quietly bundled up his few belongings
and set out to shift for himself.
Tn, pathos of the little fellows story,
With his modesty and simple air of can
dor, moved the sympathy of our rough
men. Their hearts went out to this
homeless, motherless waif, who at such a
tender age had set forth to hold his W
with the world. More than once his self
reliance and logged courage won their
admiration. At such times they would
stroke his head approvingly and
say in their rough fashion: "Thar's the
making of a man in you. Boots"
But not until two years after his
arrival vas he given a fair opportunity to
show the stuff that was in him. 1t was
in the fall Boots and a companion were
herding a bunch of horses at the horse
camp, some twenty miles below the
ranch. Their nearest neighbor was q
squatter named MoFarlane, who was
~''bachiDg it"-as the expression is-on q
small ranch ten miles distant. The herd
under their charge was made up of wild,
restless brutes, fresh from Oregon and
not yet accustomed to their new range.
1t was dull, wearisome business, this
hearding, and wore the more on Boots
patience because of the monotony of the
country about the camp. A vast undu-
lating prairie, barren of tree or shrub,
covered only with tawny plains-grass,
stretched away and away on every side,
~lifeless, barren to the eye, of an infinite
dreariness.
Far to the westward a ragged line of
buttes, known from their peculiar forma-
ton as the VOLTS Teeth. started suddenly
from the plain. A little creek, breaking
away from the mazes of the VOLTS
Teeth; wandered eastward on it's course
to tho river o. this stream the camp
was located.
Bouts longed for a change. 1t came
sooner than he anticipated, and as it
chanced, while his companion was away
at the ranch for supplies.
1t was just after dark. Boots had cor.
rallied the herd, picketed his saddle.
horse, and was seated in the doorway of
the shsnty gazing ~vacantly out over the
silent country. He yawned and thought
of turning in.
But, all at once. a seam of light caught
his attention faint, far off in the dark.
ness, close along the western horisop. II
frightened, Jared up for a moment. and
then the sky went black again. A fire,
ne thought, and started. Then, as he
watched, the light shone again, faint at.
first. then mounted higher and deepened
into a steady glow.
Fires were of frequ ut occurrence at
that season of the year. There was littls
to fear from them except with a heavy
wind, and the night was deathly calm
Boots felt this, yet a feeling of uneasi
ness crept over him. His utter isolation
and the stiffness of the hour oppressed
him. He was fearful, he knew not WHY.
That night. however, be slept soundly
tho dreamless sleep of a tired boy. OF
a sudden. toward morning, he awoke
with a start. A pungent odor filed the
room, an odor of smoke that startled
him! A fierce wind was blowing with.
out. 1t came whistling through the
chinks of the logs and ratified the loose