The Washington herald., 1910-12-11
CHAPI XXI. (Continued).

7 He graves of the children? Yes, he had re-
ettered them and hoed the weeds out 1t
had become the custom. Whoever lived on the
ranch did that For years, the story ran, the
father and mother had returned each summer
70 the graves But there had come time when they
came no more and then old HiIard started the Gus
tom The scar across the valley? An old mine. 1t
had never paid. The men had worked on it. on ana
on for years for the indications had been good But
that was years and years ago. No paying mine had
ever been struck in the valley though there had been
no end of prospect holes put down. and there had
been a sort of rush there thirty years back
a fran looking young woman came to the door to
call the young man to supper. Daylights st
thought was that city living had not agreed with
her. And then he noted the slight tan and healthy
glow that seemed added TO her face, and he de-
clded that the country was the place for her. De
clinng an invitation to SUPPER be rode on for Glen
Ellen sitting slack-kneed in the saddle and softly
humming forgotten songs. He dropped down the
rough winding road through oakcoyered asture,
with here and there thickets of manzanita and Wis
tas of open gades He listened greediy to the quail
calling and laughed outright, once in sheer joy, at
tiny chipmunk that fed scolding up bank, slip
ping on the crumbly surface and falling down, then
dashng the road under his horses nose,
and, still scolding, scrambling up protecting oak
Daylight could not persuade himself to keep to
the travelled roads that day and another cut across
country to Glen Ellen brought him upon canyon
that SO blocked his way that he glad to follow
a friendly cowpath This led him to a small frame
cabin. The doors and windows were open and
a cat was nursing u litter Z kittens in the door
way but no one seemed at home. He descended
the trail that evidently crossed the canyon. Part
way down he met an old man coming up through
the sunset IN his hand he carried pail OF foamy
milk. He q. hat and in his face, framed with
snow white hair and beard the ruddy glow
and content OF the passing summer day. Daylight
thought that he had never seen 30 cOntented look
ing being.
How old are you, daddy?" he querled.
"Eighty-four," was the reply. Yes, stree, eighty
four and spryer than most"
You must a-taken good of yourself" Day
light suggested.
Il don't know about that / amt loafed none
walked across the plains with OK team and lit In
juns in oil, and 1 was family man thea with seven
youngsters. l reckon l was as old then as you are
pretty nigh on TO it."
Don't you hnd it lonely here?"
The old shifted the pail Of milk and reflected
That ali depends, ne said oracularly. Il amt
never been lonely except when the old wife died.
Some fellers lonely in d crowd and I'm one Of
them. That's the only time I'm lonely, is when 1 go
TO Frisco. But l don't go no more, thank you
most to death. This Is good enough for I've
been right here in this valley since 54-one of the
drst settlers after the Spaniards"
Daylight started his horse saying
Well good night, daddy stick with it. You
got all the young bloOds skinned and l guess you've
sure buried a mighty sight Of them"
The old man chuckled and Daylight rode on, sing
ularly at peace with himself and all the world. 1t
seemed that the old contentmeht of trail and camp
he had known on the Yukon had come back to him.
He could not shake from his eyes the picture OF the
old pioneer coming up the trail through the sunset
light be was certainly going some for eighty-four.
The thought Of following his example entered Day
lights mind, but the 1iG game OF San Francis;
vetoed the idea.
well, anyway" he decided, when get Old and
quit the game I'll settle down in a place something
like this and the city can go to hell