Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1911-08-10
Copyright. 1910. by Street q Smith
By
FRANCIS

mo; he was merely discussing with
his two fellow holdups the ACCESSIBILITY
of knocking me on the head and drop
ping me into Lost River canyon; that
was all. Of course 1 knew they had
fallen upon the wrong man. and after
awhile l succeeded in making Barto
accept that hypothesis. At least he ac-
copied it sufficiently to bring me here
for Identification. Since he wouldn't
talk and I didn't recognize the trail or
the place I hadn't the slightest notion
Of my whereabouts-not the least in
the world"
The big man was leaning against
the foot rail of the bed and frowning
thoughtfully. "Talked about dropping
you into Lost river, did they? HIN!
Well have to look into that a little, l
guess. Who set them on, son? Got
any idea of that?'
81 have a very good idea-a man
who came across in the Pullman with
me from Omaha; tall and rather slim
and with a Ratchet face and owlish
eyes. I didn't learn his name, but he
said he was interested in mines and
timber"
"That was Hathaway himself" was
the instant decision. His company
has been cutting timber in the Lost
river reserve. and he probably thought
you were chasing him. You didn't
know Honoria"
NO; | wasn't eXpectinG-I-you may
remember that l had never met her"
stammered the young man, who had
risen to his elbow among the pillows.
The father walked away to the win
dow and stood looking out upon the
distant mountains for Il full minute
before he turned to say gently: I'VE
may as we'll run the boundary lines on
this one time as another, son. You
don't like Honoria. You've made up
your mind not to like her. I'm not
going to make it hard for either of
you if | can help it. This is her home,
but it is also yours, my boy. Do you
reckon you COULD
Evan Blount made haste to stop the
half pathetic appeal.
Don't let that trouble you," he in
terposed. "I-Mrs. Blount is a very
different person from the woman 1
have been imagining, and if she were
not l think we are both sufficiently
civilized not to quarrel" Then: "Have
you breakfasted yet-you and Mrs.
Blount? But of course you have long
ago"
"Breakfasted? Without you? Not
much, son. And that reminds me 1
was to come up and see if you were
awake, and if you were I was to send
Barnabas up with your coffee"
you may tell Barnabas that l
haven't acquired the coffee in bed
habit yet" laughed the lazy one, sit
ting up. "And you may make my
apologies to Mrs. Blount and tell her
I'll be down 'pronto.' There, doesn't
that sound as if l were getting back
to the good old sagebrush idiom?
Great land! l haven't heard anybody
say 'pronto' since I was knee high to
a hoptoadr'
In all his forecastings Evan Blount
had never pictured a homecoming like
this. In each succeeding hour Of the
day the edges Of the chasm Of the
years drew closer together, and when
finally his father put him on a horse
and rode with him to a corner Of the
vast home farm, a corner fenced off
by sentinel cottonwoods and watered
by the small Irrigation ditch of his
boyhood recollections, rode with him
through the screening cottonwoods
and showed him, lying beyond them,
the old ranch buildings of the Circle
Bar, untouched and undisturbed, his
heart was full, and a sudden mist
came before his eyes to dim the pic
ture.
give kept it just as it used to be,
Evan" his father said gently. II
thought maybe you'd come back some
day and be sure enough disappointed
If it were gone"
The younger man slipped from his
saddle and went to look in at the
open door Of the old ranch house.
Everything was precisely as he re-
uNAAOSASu AC-SAS SAAAPAS, OAo ohA
ed furniture, the crossed quirts yer
the high wooden mantel, his mothers
rocking chair-that was the final
touch. He sat down on the worn door
log and put his face in his hands, for
now the gaping chasm Of the years
vas quite closed, and he was a boy
again.
Later in the day there were am,
bling gallops along the country roads,
and the father explained how the
transformation from cattle raising to
agriculture and fruit growing had
come about; how the great irrigation
dam In Quaretaro canyon had put q
thousand square miles Of the fertile
mesa under cultivation: how with the
inDouring of tho new population had