The Blackfoot optimist. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1907-1918, 1914-12-31

evening.
I'VE come from over ON Cripple.
shin?" The boy flashed the question
with a sudden hardening Of the voice,
and, when he was afirmatively ans
swered, his eyes contracted and bored
seafchingly into the strangers face.
"Where'd We put up last night?"
Red Bill Hollman's house, at the
mouth of Meeting House fork; do you
know the placer"
Samson's reply was curt.
II knows hit all right"
There was q moments pause
rather an awkward pause. Lescotts
mind began piecing together frag-
ments of conversation he had heard,
until he had assembled sort Of men
tai jigsaw puzzle.
The South Holman feud had been
mentioned by the more laxative of
his informers, and carefully tabooed
by Understandable among them his
host of last night. 1t now dawned on
him that he was crossing the boun-
dairy and coming as the late guest of
a Holman to ask the hospitality of
South.
Il didn't know whose house it was"
he fastened to explain, until l was
benighted and asked for lodging. They
were very kind to me. I'd never seen
them before. I'm q stranger here
abouts."
Samson only nodded. II the explana-
ton failed to satisfy him, it at least
seemed to do so.
II reckon ye'd better let me holp
ye up on tibet old mule" he said;
hits a-comin' on ter be night"
With the mountaineer's aid, Lescott
clambered astride the mount, then he
turned obviously.
"I'm sorry to trouble you," he ven
tured, "but l have a paint box and
some materials up there. If you'll
bring them down here, I'll show you
how to pack the easel, and, by the
way" he anxiously added, please
to handle that fresh canvas carefully
by the edge-its not dry yet.
He had anticipated impatient con-
tempt for his artists impedimenta,
but to his surprise the mountain boy
climbed the rock and halted before
the sketch with a face that slowly
softened to an expression Of amazed
admiration. Finally he took up the
square of academy board with ten
der care of which his rough hands
would have seemed incapable and
stood stock still, presenting an anoma-
lous figure in his rough clothes as his
eyes grew almost idolatrous. Then
he brought the landscape over to it's
creator, and, though no word was
spoken, there flashed between the eyes
of the artist, whose signature gave to
q canvas the value of a precious stone,
and the jeans-clad boy whose destiny
was that of the vendetta, a subtle
wordless message. 1t was the coun-
tersign of brothers-in- blood who rec
ognize in each other the bond of q
mutual passion.
The boy and the girl. under Lescott's
direction, packed the outfit and stored
the canvas in the protecting top of the
WA. AOA, WAllC sally tUIucU duO
strobe. down creek in search of Les
colts lost mount, the two men rode
upstream in silence. Finally Samson
spoke slowly and diffidently.
Stranger" he ventured, "ef hit
hain't askin' too much, will We let me
see We paint one of them things?"
Gladly" was the prompt reply.
Then the boy added covertly:
Don't say nothin' erbout hit ter
none Of these folks. They'd devil me. /"
The dusk was falling now, and the
hollows choking with murk.
Were nigh home now" said Sam.
son at the end of some minutes silent
plodding. Hits right beyond tibet
thar bend"
Then they rounded a point of tim.
Der and came upon small party of
men whose attitudes even in the dim.
ming light conveyed subtle sugges.
ton of portent.
"Thet you, Samson?" called an old
mans voice, which was still very deep
and powerful.
Hello, Unc' Spencer!" replied the
boy.
Then followed q silence unbroken
until the mule reached the group, re.
vealing that besides the boy another
man-and strange man-had Joined
their number.
! "Evenin', stranger" they greeted
him, gravely; then again they fell
silent, and in their silence was evil
! dent constraint.
This hyar mans a furriner," an
nouneed Samson, briefly. "He fell
often rock an got hurt. lowed
I'd fotch him home ter stay all night
The elderly man who had hailed the
boy nodded, but with an evident an
noyance. It seemed that to him the