Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-01-14

BY ROY NORTON
IS right and what's wrong He gave great
if mentally surveying the frailties of humanity,
4 smiled at me almost affectionately. "You all
ind to us when we was comm UP here, he said
at irresistible warmth of face, "that when we
e didn't have nothin' to work with Knute says
says he, Them fellers down the creek is the
TT. Let's 60 down, says he, and see if they
'are us lumber for three or four sluice boxes SOS
tear out expenses while lookin' for better pay
a great man. l always takes his advice. He's
lrdner, even if he don't talk much"
liant was staring abstractedly at the ground,
little man, after a quick observation of this
ion, put his hand up to the side of his mouth, as
3 opportunity, and whispered hoarseiy, Don't
m unsociable like because he don't talk. He
Zip it. You see, he's def and dumb'
artner and l exchanged cynical stares.
thought you said he talked to your blurted.
now, you see that's the funny part of it, the
IN asserted without abashment, and smiling at
en- his ruddy face suddenly grew grave and the
ed out of his eyes to give way to a strange ten
"knute and mes been pardners for more'n
years. he said softly, as though still fearing
that his voice would reach the deaf ears Of
the viking. "And somehow we've got SO we
understand each other. Why, do you know,
he's one of the most companionable partners
man ever had He can talk about things that
you and med never think of,-fowers, and
sunsets and rainbows and the little trembIn'
OF birds throat when it's singin'. Knute
sees EN- all, and points em out to me, until
I'm beg1nnln' to see the same things
l think we felt trife ashamed of having
observed the ridiculous side of the garrulous
man before reading his depth of feeling. We
gave way to a slow, dumb wonder, as those
who walk in sleep to the borders of strange
lands. We had peered through the curtains
of one of Gods mysteries. But my partner
was more inquisitive than l.
Il suppose he writes it down for you,
doesn't heo"
"Knute? No, you see he was born that
way. He CANT read nor write. He's Nor
wegian. l used to try to learn him; but it's
mighty hard for a poor cuss that CANT do
much more'n read and write himself to learn
adeef and dumb man. 1t don t matter, though
He don't need to know them things"
He stopped abruptly as if sienced. We
too felt an embargo. The giant was staring
us a request to forbear discussion of his mis-
fortune and for one brief instant it was hurt
stare. Then, as he read our sympathy, his
eyes softened, and he turned the converse
ton. His hands were marvellous, or else there
lived something in the mans soul that spoke;
for he made single gesture that brought us
back to the cause of their visit 1t was d.
rected to pile of new sluice boxes beside
our cabin.
allow many?' l asked, forgetting his in
trinity.
Four of his huge, toll hardened fingers
flashed into the air.
"Sure you can have them, my partner
answered. Perhaps he nodded, am not GER
tain; but Knute at once rose, walked to the
pile with the deliberate, slow strength of a
polar bear, and picked one up. He examined
it, and then, as easily as if playing with straws,
caught a side plank in his hands and started
to pull it off. His strength was incredible. l
jumped to my feet in establishment. But one
of the heavy spikes, farther down, threatened
to split the plank, and he turned to me with