CanÌƒon City record. [volume] (CanÌƒon City, Colo.) 1883-192?, 1907-04-11

steals back and forth, awaiting, may
be, that time when the lion shall He
down with the lamb. And we would
not forget, oh Lord, those sublime
heights covered with eternal SHOWS,
whose peaks pierce the clouds: where
mountain quail hover over their broods
of spotless white; emblems of Thy love
and purity.
I'VE thank Thee, kind Father. that
the cattle ranges of Colorado are not
barren wastes of hill and valley where
ignorant ruffians herd starving cattle,
as has been told us here tonight; such
thoughts are but the wild rawlings of
an ignorant tenderfoot, unworthy
words for one who processes to preach
Thy Gospel.
I'VE thank Thee that Thou art a
kind and loving Father, and not the
uncertain God of doubtful justice that
has been pictured here tonight. For
give all such errors, voiced here this
evening, by the well-meaning but over
Jealous fanatic, who has just broke
loose in our midst. Regulate, we pray
Thee, his overactive but unbalanced
mind.
BE with us in tomorrow's drive,
hasten our cattle through the scorch-
ing heat of Sand Canon, over the rocks
in DEVILS Gap, guide us safely; and
may the water at Cottonwood Springs
hold out until each has had drink.
And when tomorrow's sun goes down,
see our outfit safely landed at the dear
old Stirrup Ranch. Amen"
AS Dudley took his seat the preacher
came forward.
I'VE will close our services this ey-
enlng by singing-by singing but
open the book, ard Dudley, feeling sor-
ry for him and not wishing the meet
ing to break up too abrupt like, let his
voice loose again. and without leaving
his seat, he sang: Where is My Wan
derlng Boy Tonight"
No one attempted to join him, but
when he had finished singing, the con-
gregation seemed to forget they were
in church, for they broke loose clap
ping hands, just as they do up in Dem
yer at the Tabor. Dudley came for
ward and bowed to 'em, like they do
on the stage. but they only cheered
the louder. Then Reynolds whispered
TO Dudley:
Sing 'em something. Dud, sing the
one you do on the night herd
And he came to the front again, his
/ bit hat in one hand. the other pushing
! his hair back from his forehead, and
his face wearing an innocent childlike
smile, as he cast his eye over the au-
dience, unconcerned as IL he were sit
ting in his saddle waiting for his pony
TO drink But you bet he looked swell
even In his old ranch toys, and how he
did sing, Seemed like the angels slid
down from Heaven and pushed him
along.
The poor girl who played the organ
/ tried hard to catch the accompaniment
but she could not make it Dudley
sang on Just the same till near the end
of the first round; then his face went
white. the big hat in his hand trembled
like the quivering aspen leaves high up
the mountain, yet he kept on singing
as up the aisle came the sweliest young
lady-must have been one of those
eastern for she sure warn't no town
| girl-and she went right over TO the
organ. whispered to the girl who could
not play, then took her seat. The min
ute her fingers touched the keys SEEM
into a harp of thousand strings; she
| just made it talk, and the first notes
shrill and loud, from way off in the
distance, seemed to be saying that she
was alone on Poncha Mountain of
trail, and big storm coming up
While Dudley never saw him look
Just like that before, his eyes fairly
shone, as his voice rose clean and
beautiful. Then, suddenly the music
dropped. the organ called lower as he
answered with his voice. Still softer
1t sounded, till you could not tell his
singing from her playing-then the
music sank still lower. and all over
the church folks were holding their
breath listening, as it died out SO soft
and still, you couldn't tell Just when II
did quit
Next day when we made our drive
new man rode Dudley's horse back
to the Stirrup Ranch.