The Aberdeen Democrat. (Aberdeen, South Dakota) 1???-1909, 1903-06-05

they called again.
Somehow he had almost forgotten
the meaning of good-by. Once he had
realized it years ago., when he said
good-by to Nancy just before they
fastened down the lid of the coffin.
Since then there had been no occasion
for farewells. John had never been
gone any length of time. He had
married shortly after his mother
died, and brought his wife and settled
down on the old homestead. Life had
drifted along comfortably for them
all. Now he felt the significance of
the waving hands as he saw them
fade away in the distance and IA
miliar things give place to strange
surroundings.
He looked out of the windows at
the swiftly passing fields. John
Winchell's wheat; pretty badly
winterkilled. Couldn't count on more
than half a crop" he decided. Sam
Green's corn was beginning to roll
some. Hadn't kept the c%ultivator go
ing or it would stand the hot weather
better. Sam was a little slack; and
Jerry Sloan's apple orchard needed
trimming scandalous. He wouldn't
have a bushel of marketable apples
in the lot"
And presently he lost his bearings
in strange lands: field and forest and
marshy places passed swiftly by, upon
which he had never looked. and he
turned his gaze inside to meet strange
faces. 1t gave him a queer feeling.
He had never passed beyond the reach
of familiar faces but a few times in
his life. 1t "a nor comforting to
lean back and close his eyes to his
strange surroundings and follow John
and Sarah. They nus be nearly home
now. and Curly would come down the
road to meet them and bark distract
ingly. and old Doll would lay her ears
back and pretend to leer at him. John
would help Sarah out and drive
around to the barn: then he would
anhitch and pump a trough full of
freshwater. He could hear the old
pump creak and the plash of the
cool water. Tt made him thirsty and
he got up and walked unsteadily down
the aisle to the water tank and drew
a cupful, but it was warm and brack-
ish. River water" he decided dis
gustingly.
1t was dark when he went on board
the boat. His eyes were tired already
with strange sights and he went di-
rectly to bed. The sun was shining
the city of Milwaukee when he got
up. He had not slept any; he had
only "dozen off, once or twice when
the horrible clanking and changing
had eased up a bit, but he had not
heard anything of the rain storm
which swept the lake.
Here it was still worse. He had not
imagined there ere SO many differ
ent kinds of noises in the world;
steamboat whistles, the shrek of es-
steam and the clangor of ma
chinery, the ringing of bells and the
and thud of trampling feet. He
felt dizzy and faint. He always lay
down on the sitting room lounge
when he felt like that, and Sarah
drew the curtains and brought him
a cup of green tea. He had not seen
a bit of decent tea since he left home.
He walked uneasily about the wait
ing room. There was no one to whom
he might talk but the policeman, and
the crowded city streets oppressed
him. He watched the rushing tide of
r,onr1o uyhinh a11>ol aud Qo,,o o..
tinually. For once in his life Father
Harlan felt cowed. Once he ventured
to ask a small boy how far it was to
the street car station, and he had been
advised to "hike down to the corner"
He regarded his informer suspiciously
for a few minutes and then went back
into the depot.
At n o'clock he bought a ticket
for Duluth and presently found him
self speeding ros country again.
He rested his head on the back
of the seat and his white hairs strag-
gled over the velvet edge. It was an
uncomfortable position, but he must
have dozed off, for he awoke with a
start. The train was standing still
in a piece of woods and people were
leaving the a excitedly. He got up
and followed them. He found a wash
out and an undermined bridge Just
ahead of the engine, which had been
tagged by the section men. He went
out on the bank of the turbid stream,
which last nights storm had set
seething and Tuning, and looked
down upon it. Probably he had Just
escaped an awful death. He had read
accounts of terrible railroad accidents
in the Dumfries Bulletin, but he had
never expected to come so near one
as this.
He went back to his seat in the
a presently. There would be a long
night of waiting before a train could
come to meet them on the other side,
the conductor said. It was the long
est night Father Harlan could re-
member in years. They ran back to
the last station, q little hamlet which
consisted of a sawmill and a board
ing-house, and sidetracked, but there
were no accommodations for travel
ers beyond a little food, and fretful
ohsl1ran oosoA fo-~ ,,.,..s.n.. IL,