The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1914-01-15
CHAPTER Ix--tcontinued.l
IA

on his way. And Wiley, feeling some
how, that he had lost an opening round
in his inability to rCtort to the boss,
crossed the square to his office. He
was furious with himself. He had
planned to keep the announcement OF
his campaign until he could see some
of the men who would be with him
Purcell and Mcbride, of Earlville, Jake
Vance and Arne and some Of the scat
tered malcontents in other counties OF
the district. But here the boss had
made a fool of him before his own
people at the very start. He was saw
age with the realization that Janet
,Vance's window in the county building
was open; that In all likelihood she had
heard Old Thad's jest and the laugh
ter. No, he had not done well, And
his old discomfort with himself came
over him; the pitiless feeling that he
did not measure UP to the rough game
men played in business and politics.
He was too much the sentimentalist,
that was Ii. Hat# .v "sE #,#
. He was kicking away on his job
press when Hemminger, the recalci-
trant board member, came in. Hem
minger was from a lonely backwoods
district up the river whose people, from
poor roads and isolation, rarely came
to town. He paid a back subscription,
and had a rambling budget of news
AI1Il lHS HOi1G LUX. AHuy dS AWAY o.
h editor listened sympathetically,
and, with thoughts far away, answered
ut times. ~. - n ..a @e .
There was a whaling corn crop and
1t was mostly out of the way of frost.
And the late pasture was drying UP,
hnd some folks were going to ship their
hogs. Some folks would, but DANCED II
tan up in the bluff, hadn't done much
and he was going to turn in his hogs
hnd let 'em take the yield. Dinged IL
he knew what vas the matter with that
land! 1t "
T.. Wiley listened. Then he took a
handful of pamphlets from his desk.
Ever see these, Burt? Government re-
ports? Maybe your land is too sour? q
Hemminger was incredulous. Book
farming wasn't muchi s,usa
II tell you what I'll do" said Wiley
suddenly. Next time Arne Vance
comes back from the agricultural
school, I'll get him and drive up there
and he can analyze your soil"
H~emminger's pale eyes shone.
Would you, now? You're a busy man,
Mr.. C~urran--runnin'A fur congress and
hll!" .y. .ts
Il want to see you ALL" Es
Sure. Folks would be delighted.
Nobody ONE up our way much. up
our way the wimmen still boil soap
we amt much on newfangled ways UP
on Broad Bottoms. But IL Jake Vance's
boyd come--we-we'd all meet some
where's and have coffee-and you could
talk to us, too, Mr.. Curranl a -
Wiley watched him with a sudden
awakening hope. do your folks like
me up there, Burt? Way out in the
bottom distrfcts?" .r -	
You come up our way. It's a right
ionesome country. But w know you,
Mr.. Curran. You remember the time
you got Abe Smiths boy out O. jail?"
back Nv years.
"Our folks talk about that yit! Abe's
boy hadn't done much but git too much
or board. And o got him out ana
sent him home!" ..
Hemmlnger was stuffing the govern
ment crop reports in his pocket. Ii
you'd come, MI. Curran, folks would be
way, it's never scared n it's never
bought. And Abe Smiths boy-well'
you come up!"
He went out, and when the editor
saw his farm wagon rumble over the
crossing his face was lit with a fine
glow. Wiley wondered what he a
said or done to bring Hemminger out
OF. his despond-he had come in
beaten and Inundated from the u
meeting,-the lone board
insurgent against the Tanner DOM
nance over the rich farmers or
the southern part of the county.
Curran saw him away on, When
he went up the path to he cottage
where Aunt Abby's lamp Bhone-a
lonely figure seated In a rude wagon
that crawled up a gap to the north be-
tween the somber harshness OF the,
corn felds-a blur, fainter, drawing
into the dusk, lost in the immensely
of the dun earth, the autumn sky. B
An hour later Curran was chopplng
his kindling by the fence. A drop OF
cold rain came out of the scud or
cloud. Another-the 8 bend OF u
was lost in a gray VEIL, and ne
could hear the patter of, drops on the
tar paper roof of his shop. He stood
for q moment in h enrolling night
listening to this lulling murmur, the
great dried lands sucking In the
water, enriching themselves. the scar
pastures would green, the black corn
bottoms and the fall sowing OF the
Iwheat would lave themselves n rest
Until the freeze came. And slowly 1t
seemed to Curran, that never had he
loved it all before. The fat Midlands,
the neVer-hungered country! Here were
the best men and women Affair in the
glutc of the cities OF which he a
dreamed, of which he remembered,
the future might be hideous with
wrong and hate; but here were the
hest people, Endangered, ~unfeartng:
y He was carrying in the wood for
Aunt Abby's kitchen box, thinking how
friendly would be the stove glow after
this wet chill, how fine his eagerness
for the supper; the kerosene lamp un-
der IL red shade upon the table, and
the hale, CHEEKY old woman, her glasses
dim with the kettle steam. But he
heard a wagon stop, a mans grufr
voice on the crossing below his shop.
He watched curfousiy the figure come
UP the hill and lean over ! renee.
1t was Hemminger, the lonely and
defeated farmer. His pale eyes shone
in the lamplight from the window.
II just thought I'd come to say, Mr.,
Curran," he blurted, that you ain't
no money much or any way OF gtttin'
about for congress. Well, our folks can
drive you about all over he country,
some takin' turns and then passin you
on, SOS you see everybody. See eV-
erybody! And live right among US
Then when you git To washington
folkslI kind OF own you'll" He brushed
the wet of his cotton sleeve-"I just
thought ia drive back and tell you
It's our folks way"
Then he was gone out In the night,
the chatter of his wagon coming down
the hill road, until the falling rain
drowned the sound OF wheels.
Curran went ire piled his wood. ano
stood before the cook-stove, watching
freamily the fire, Needless that he was