Smyrna times., 1913-05-14
By RIGHT.

craig Gillette read the telegram
hastily, gave the Indian bow a coin
and said tersley, .'No wait'' The
boy galloped away on his little pony.
he stood looking after the Indian.
the telegram Tapping in the wind.
he received few messages from the
Z ast. Indians, miners and cow pun
chers had been his companions for II
years, in fact ever since the family
fortune had gone to smash and he had
left New York forever.
He had said forever" because
Lois Fleming. the girl ne loved. broke
her engagement with him when the
money was gone. Disguised with
life he left New York, vowing never
to return and refusing to see Lois,
although she had asked for last in
terview.
The indian boy disappeared in the
distance and Craig read the message.
1t was from kirkland. Expect
crowd Of US on 9th. Berger, Watson.
little GraysOn and some others, girls.
too. Going with dad on inspection
tour over his road. Mother to chap
eron. Do not wire. We leave to-
night. Truly. kirkland. -"
The names were familiar. All had
been intimates Of his, but in u years
were almost forgotten. Craig won
dered who the girls would be neither
the younger nor the youngest set
when he left home. Twelve wears
They would be decidedly new to him.
They had been the infant set then.
He ran his fingers through his thick
hair. He knew there was gray in it.
He walked slowly back to the house.
hardly knowing whether to be glad
or sorry at the prospective interrup-
tion to his rough way of living. But
the hard life he had led. prospecting
and mining. had been medicine to his
sick soul. The sting had changed to
dull ache and the ache was almost
gone new.
He had become rich, very rich.
The mipe, the camp, the ground were
all his and his mine yielded fortune
in silver every day. For the first
time in II years Craig felt a misfit
in his surroundings. Why had he
not noticed before how meagrely and
hideously the house was furnishend?
There was one bunk in the bedroom,
small deal table and a few chairs
in the dining room, the same in the
lving-rOom, and the kitchen a heter-
ogeneOus collection of junk.
He sat down to think. Il was al
ready the 9Th. Three days yeti Jen-
nings, the mine foreman, could take
big wagon to Little Powder sud
bring home cots, tents, tables, chairs
bed and bedding. He could make
two or three trips, for travel was slow
and difficult over the rough road COW
cred with thick white alkali dust.
Then. too. he could get half dozen
extra men to scrub and clean a bit.
Craig frowned. The trouble was
with the cook. Pete. the slovenly
Indian, could never cook for a day.
probably two or three, Cor a set of
New York's fastidious diners.
The height of his culinary achieve
ment was a huge hunk Of roasted beef
or pork, perhaps with potatoes. Set
ting the table for a meal usually took
him one minute, throwing on a red
cover, a plate, cup, saucer. bone
handled knife and fork and a few
spoons. No; Pete would not do.
Jennings brought wagonload of
things that day. Also the Little
Powder Gazette. In a corner Of the
second page Craig's eye fell upon a
tiny advertisement:
Mrs. L. F. Mcbride
CATERING
Weddings, Dinners and Banquets
Drop a Card or Phone
26 Saunders street, Little Powder.
The very thing He would put the
whole thing into the hands of a white
woman who could serve decent meals
and serve them correctly.
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