Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1915-08-06

PASSED the WORD that his men must,
until further orders, desist from vio-
lence. The word had crept about that
Samson, too, was going away. and, II
this were true, Jesse felt that his fu-
ture would be more secure than his
past. Purvy believed Samson guilty,
despite the generation of the hounds.
Lescott had sent a box of books, and
Samson had taken a team over TO
Hixon, and brought them back.
He devoured them all from title
page to fms line, and many of them
he went back to, and digested again.
He wrestled long and gently with
his uncle, struggling to win the old
mans consent to his departure. But
6picer South's brain was no longer
plastic. What had been good enough
for the past was good enough for the
future. Nevertheless. he arranged af-
fairs so that his nephew should be
able to meet financial needs. and to go
where he chose In a fashion BETTING
q South.
November came In bleakly, with a
raw and devastating breath Of fatality.
The smile died from horizon to hori-
zon, and for days cold rains beat and
dashed the forests. And, toward the
end of the month, came the day which
Samson had set for his departure.
At the threshold, with the saddle
bags wei his left forearm and the rife
in his hand, he paused. His uncle stood
at his elbow and the boy put out his
hand.
"Good-by, Unc' Spicer," was all he
said. The old man, who had been his
second father, shook hands. His face.
too, was expressionless, but he felt
that he was saying farewell to a sol
der of genius who was abandoning the
field. And he loved the boy with all
the centered power of an isolated
heart.
A half-mile along the road, Samson
halted and dismounted. There, in a
small cove, surrounded by a tangle Of
briers and blackberry bushes, stood q
small and dilapidated meeting house"
and churchyard, which he must visit.
He made his way through the rough
underground to the unkempt half-acre,
and halted before the leaning head
stones which marked two graves. With
a sudden emotion, he swept the back
of his hand across his eyes,. He did
not remove his hat, but he stood In the
drizzle of cold rain for a moment Of
silence, and then he said:
"Pap, hain't forgot. / don't want
We ter think tibet I've forgot"
Before he arrived at the Widow Mil
ler's, the rain had stopped and the
clouds had broken.
Sally opened the door, and smiled.
She had spent the day nerving herself
for this farewell, and at least until
the moment of leave-taking she would
be safe from tears. The Widow Mil
Ter and her son soon left them alone,
and the boy and girl sat before the
blazing logs.
For d time, an awkward silence fell
between them. At last, the boy rose,
and went over to the corner where he
had placed his gun. He took 1t up and
laid it on the hearth between them.
Sally" The said, Il wants ter tell We
some things thet l hain't never said
ter nobody else. In the fust place. l
wants We ter keep this hyar gun fer
me-"
The girls eyes widened with sur
prise.
"Hain't We a-goin' ter take hit with
We, Samson?"
HE shook his head.
Il hain't a7goin' ter need hit down
below. Nobody don't use EN- down
thar. I've got my pistol, an l reckon
thet will be enough"
"Tll take good keer of hit" she
promised.
The boy took out of his pockets a
box of cartridges and a small package
tied in a greasy rag.
Hits loaded, Sally, an hits cleaned
an hits creased. Hits ready fer use."
Again, she nodded In silent assent,
and the boy began speaking in a slow,
careful voice, which gradually mount
ed into tense emotion.
sally, tibet thar gun was my pap's.
When he lay a-dyin', he gave hit ter
me, an he gave me a job ter do with
hit. When / was a little Teller, I used
ter set up most all day. polishin' tibet
gun an gittin' hit ready. / used ter
go out in the woods, an practice shoot
I'm hit at things, tell learned how ter
handle hit. / reckon thar hain't many
fellers round here tibet kin beat me
now" He paused, and the girl fastened
to c~orroborate.
Thar hain't none, Samson"
There hain't nothin' in the world,
Sally, thet l prizes like / does thet gun.
Hits got a job ter do. . Thar
hain't but n person In the world I'd
trust hit with. Thet's you. . l
wants We ter keep hit fer me, an ter
keep hit ready. They thinks
round hvar I'm %nuittin' huf I hain't.