The Virginia enterprise., 1904-09-09
F The Story | Told Scro66s
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BY Mabel Haughton Brown.
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r. HIS is story with two heroes and
i only hint of heroine. Perhaps
one hero should be called the villain,
but the question is still undecided in
the mind CT the writer and is left to
the kind discretion of the reader.
When I told the story to Scroggs, my
chum and confidant, he said:
MAN alive, no one could believe it."
That's because it's true," I said,
and Scrog.5s looked at me long and ear
nestly.
"Do you believe such rubbish?" he
asked with the air of an insanity in
spector.
II tell you it happened" affirmed,
"and I'm going to write it down."
Scroggs blinked an eye.
You'll be sent to Agncws," he said,
and that is all the satisfaction got out
of him-no queries-no wonderment-
just coolly expressed doubt.
The attitude of Scroggs is not to
be considered seriously. He is
"dreamless man." highly Unconditional,
although high-strung. I like him, but
his logic annoys me at times. I have
always believed the story myself
that is, it seems entirely plausible, al
though I am inclined to regard it from
two points of view. My opinion, how
ever, may be biased, for I was the
intimate friend of one hero and came
near knowing the other. ~
The first man was fair-your true
blonde type, with light hair, almost
white, against his florid face; of
medium height, slightly inclined to
stoop-and his name was Walter Kent.
He was not handsome man, but
rather massive, wholesome-looking
fellow-the kind of man you would
trust if you had to, and stake a good
deal on his doing the square thing.
Men liked Kent; he was rattling good
fellow-but no one would have ever
taken him for hero of romance.
He was inclined to be shy. His
great clumsy hands usually sought his
pockets and stayed there when he
talked to men. With women he was
different; he tried to appear perfectly
at his ease and failed dismally. It
was all too bad. He was about the
best Kind of friend that a woman
could have had under any circum-
stances, but not one of the fair sex
knew him we'll. Poor Kent, he,couldn't
stand it to talk to q woman long
enough to let her get acquainted with
him; and yet know that in the inner
recesses of his soul he treasured a
high, idealistic opinion of women in
general, and had his day dreams like
the rest of us.
III l were woman, think would
marry man like Kent-knowing what
do, of men-but to my knowledge,
Kent had never proposed to a woman
in his life, and not one of the women
he had met had ever shown him the
slightest favor. Not to my knowledge,
you say? Well, Kent told me all about
it,
The foothills of a state like Colo
RADIO seemed just the place that a man
like Kent would 60 eventually. We all
have something of the cowboy spirit in
our natures, think, and in Kent it
was more strongly developed than it
Is in most of us. He was child of
nature deep down in his sturdy old
heart-the fresh fields and green woods
were near akin to him, or so it seemed
to me when mused on things senti-
mental, and 1 was much given to
musing in those days. Perhaps the
reader has surmised before this that
I was somewhat devoted tc. Kent. I
was, and when he started to the hills,
picked up and went with him.
fancied that we two would get along
sswimmingly out there IL The thought
Of the free, outdoor life held for me
all the romance of quaint old story.
AIeshould. be enabled to put my .knowl-
edge of surveying to- practical use,
thought, and, moreover, would be get
ting in fine shape for my coming ca
reer. I was just out of college, and my
coming career was sweet hallucina-
ton under which l. labored at the time.
But 1 had misinterpreted my own
nature, even though l was pretty cor
rect IN my estimate of Kent. I soon
learned that the cowboy spirit in my,
nature had spent itself long years be-
fore, and little of green field and
open air went q long way with me.
IN short, I fairly hated the solitude Of
the great wide place, and the survey
Ing work proved particularly .irksome.
Hanging over Cliff with 3 line is not