Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1901-11-22
The Trouble on the Torolito. ]
BY FRANCIS LYNDH II
BY FRANCIS LYNDH.
Copyright, lses. by yr.u.I. Lyna,.,
CHAPTER i.
ANGUS riE FIRST.

IL,
CHAPTER i.
ANGUS rHE FIRST.
1t was a crystalline evening Of .
sort unpatntable In any Roor word
pigments of mine; an evsaiRc vibrant
with the harmenies Of the attitudes,
unspeakable for me, and altogether
Understandable to any who have
never looked upon the soul-quelling
glories of Colorado mountain sun-
set. Macpherson had prepped me with
two bear-skins and q spare poncho
on the squared log which served as
door-stone for the ranch house,
and had given me the field-glass
wherewith to amuse myself. 1t was
my first sane glimpse of the shell
tered upland valley watered by the
Torolito. Three days before, when
Macpherson had brought me up from
Fort Cowan swathed in blankets AID
dashed lengthwise on his blackboard,
had been too Ill to know or care
greatly abotlt the whence or whittier.
1t was stockman's paradise, the
park-like little valley shut in by lofty
mountains, and from the heaving
swell crested by the ranch buildings
and corral the metes and bounds of
Macpherson's small kingdem were
we'll within eye-sweep. Eastward, no
more than a rifle-shot from the home
ranch black cash in Gringo noun
tain marked the portal OF Six-MiIe
canyon, the only gateway to the par
adise; and from thence the tnclosing
ranges diverged to meet again in the
snow-coifed summit of Jtm's peak at
the head of the valley. The "x-bar-
z" men, with the exception of the
mild-mannered desperate who cooked
for us, were still out; and Macpher-
son sat beside me, naming the mighti-
| nesses in their order, and pointing
them out with the stem of his black
Guilty pipe. When lowered the field
glass in sheer WEAKNESS, he told me
about the single fly in his pot of ONT
ment.
Now 1T may chance that when one
has given hostages to death, piano.
ramic sunsets and friendly condolences
may become alike mere aotsam and
jetsam on the ebbing tideway Of
time; but Macpherson was too good
fellow to be houted in his time Of
asking. Wherefore, when he had
made an end, I was fain to put q
little life, galvanic or otherwise, into
the moribund body Of human inter
est.
"Then you think this land company
will ultimately drive you out of the
Torolito?" said I.
"Sure. It's only question OF time
if the syndicate once gets hold. The
stock-raiser is like the Indian; he
must move Oh when the farmer
comes"
"The relentless march Of oiviliza-
ton, and all that, eh?" quoth I, lying
In wait to spring upon him.
Eyes; It's the survival of the fit
test, I suppose"
A near-hand view Of eternity IS
ealbversive of many theories. and
dashed out il fine scorn.
''What an Internal lot OF cant we
can swallow when It's sugar-coated
with the ipse dixit Of the theoristsl
Why don't you call things by their
right names and say that when the
strong man comes, the weak have to
give him the wall? You drove up
here Ave years ago when everybody
said that the first winter in this alti-
tude would cost you every hoof you
owned. You proved the contrary;
and now, when you've set up your
little kingdom in one Of the waste
places Of the earth, Lot of capital
lists come along and invite you to
Rbdicate. I'd see them hanged frstl"
| Macpherson made dumb show Of
applause. He is htter-day re-
crudescence of the physioauy-ht he
roes of the Homeric age, with square
shoulders and legs like posts; man
who can bend nails in his bare hands,
and who has never found the bottom
Of his well of strength; but he has
laughing brown eyes with woman
lsh tenderness in them-eyes that
may glow with righteous indigna-
ton, but which know not vindictive-
ness.
"Oh, you be damned" he said, at
eectionately. "What would you doP"
I'D be governed by circumstances
and fight for my own to the last
gasp. You can do that as well as
another, can't your"
He took time to think about 1t. II
don't know. If Setter would stand
by me"
"who is Setter" As have said,
1t was only my third day in the Toro-
Tito, and the frst two had been spent
In the spare bunk of the ranch house.
CPL have to begin back bit to
account for him. Three years ago
rattletrap Of prairie schooner
but say; you're sick, and don't
want to bore you with folklore"
/ go on; I'm three planetary orbits
beyond the boring point"
"Are you? Well, as I was going to
say, shackly old schooner drifted
up Six-Mile canyon and into the park
Jake Setter was its skipper, and
the crew consisted Of wife, half.
grown daughter, and flock of little
ones. They were homesteaders look.
Ing for bit of prairie with stream
convenient which could be damned
and ditched, and the old man drove
up to ask me what thought Of the
Torolito from the point Of view Of
potatoes and the small grains"
Now / submit that anyone save
Angus Macpherson would have di
vined at once that this was the en-