Rock Island Argus., 1906-02-17

rates her almost to the point of leav
ing the table. The "Ah's.' and ''Deal
me'sw and by Jove'sv volleying from
the listeners We're quite insupportabIe
One lady said, Poor felloww
"Not at ALL" said DR.. Braide. "He
was a lucky dog. I'd be shot any day
10 get such a nurse"
Jeanette saw the angry flush on
AIMS face and hastily turned the con,
versation into less personal channels.
Thus every influence swept her to-
| ward a dislike of the wounded mans
very name, and thereafter she ignored
his presence in the house. his being in
the world, as though he did not exist.
She neither asked after his health nor
replied to any report or question made
| by her brother concerning him.
| Louis brought to Raymond one day
small limp book in red leather. which
he proffered with the air of giving a
gem
whats this?" asked Raymond.
Your diary?"
mo; my fathers. He was out here
| before l was born, when the Indians
| were here"
Raymond opened the volume with
| languid interest, but soon realized that
he was looking into the past through
the eyes of a poet. Part of it was writ
ten In ink very legibly, but in a fine
running hand, while other of the pages
were hastily scribbled in pencil and
not to be easily deciphered. Plainly the
record had been made under great dis
advantages and in the field. The inks
were of various colors, some watery
blue, some dusty black.
Louis opened the book at the front.
wherein the picture of Il slender, smil-
ing. handsome young fellow in SOM
brero and hunting clothes had been
pasted.
He enjoyed his new hat didn't he?'
said Raymond, to whom the essential
incongruity of the refined face and bor-
der ruftian tOggery first appealed.
You're the image of your father?' he
added, looking keenly at the boy. HE
don't look much older in this picture,
taken at Sylvanite. Well, Sylvanite was
a wild town in those days. Is there
much about it in the book!'
Ten pages. He wrote page OF
fine script every day, but L don't care
SO much for that-these stage rides.
and the big canyons, and crossing the
rivers. and the Indians-he saw lots of
Indians-the Utes-these are what in
terest me-
Raymond became profoundly inter
ested in this book. There was an ap-
peal in the closing entry which touched
him profoundly. The entry was head
ed The Last View" and closed with
these words: Il love my home and my
friends in the east. but this primeyal
world has laid its spell upon me. I
shall come again next year"
Did he come again?" asked Ray
mond.
NO" answered Louis sadly. And
it was soon evident to Raymond that
the lad knew very little of his father
beyond the message in the worn little
book
leave this with me. Louis. 1 want
to read it aIl,' he said. And the boy
was glad of this interest.
D Mrs. Barnett came in later and ask
ed, What are you reading?"
ut is journal kept by Louis IA
ther. Did you know him?'
..Oh. very we'll, He was my favor
ite uncle"
Tell me of him. Who was he-how
did he come to make this trip?'
Mrs. Barnett took Il comfortable seat
Il don't know where Uncle Phil got
his streak of sentiment. He was one
of six brothers, all successful bust
ness men; keen, practical-yOu know
the kind. But Phil-well. he was the
odd sheep-he always seemed boy
to me. He worked in the bank, but
his mind was on other things. l don't
remember how they came to send him
out here. but 1 can recall perfectly
the effect he had on me when talking
of his trip. He glorified this country.
He saw the mountains as the old time