Sioux County pioneer. (Fort Yates, Sioux County, N.D.) 1914-1929, 1915-03-05
more into the hands Of his unnatural

more into the hands Of his unnatural
parent.
Certain It was that the feelings Of
all who knew the lads story showed
hearty sympathy with him. and when
one morning 1t was rumored that The
Boy from Zeeny had lnysteriously dis.
appeared. and the rumor rapidly de-
veloped into an unquestionable fact.
there was universal senAe of re.
greet in the little town, which in turn
resolved itself into positive indigna-
ton when 1t was learned from the
doctor that an explanation. printed in
red keel on the back of a fragment Of
circus poster, had been found fold
ed and tucked away in the buckle.
strap of his horses bride. The some
what remarkable communication, in
sprawltng capitals. ran thus:
"Paps got me agin. hat to go.
Dam him. Doc tel her to keep my
books. Good by. l fed ole Charly. I
fed him otes and ha an corn. He
wont need no more fer a weak. An
brand to. Doc tel her good BY"
1t was curious bit Of composition
-uncouth, assuredly. and married.
maybe, with an objectionable pro.
fanity-but it served. In the silence
and gloom Of the old stable, the doc.
tors fingers trembled as he read, and
the good wife's eyes, peering anxious
ly above his heavinE shoulder. filled
and overlooked with tears.
wish that it were in the veracious
sequence of this simple history to give
this Maynard boy back to the hearts
that loved him, and that still in mem.
ory enshrine him with affectionate re.
gard; but the hapless lad-the little
ragged twelve.year-old that wandered
out Of nowhere into town. and wan
dered into nowhere out again-never
returned. Yet we who knew him in
those old days-we who were children
with him, and, in spite of boyish jeal-
ousy and petty chickering's, admired
the gallant spirit of the lad-are con.
tfnually meeting with reminders of
him; the last instance of which, in
my own experience. cannot refrain
from offering here:
For years I have been a wanderer
from the dear old town Of my nativity,
but through all my wanderings a gra-
ctous fate has always kept me some.
where In its pleasant neighborhood,
and. in consequence. often pay brief
visits to the scenes of my long.van.
ished boyhood. 1t was during such a
visit, but a few short years ago, that
remembrances Of my lost youth were
most forcibly recalled by the progress
of the county fair, which institution
was permitted to attend through the
Kindness Of an old chum who drove
me over in his buggy.
Although 1t was not the day for rae
ing, We found the track surrounded by
dense crowd Of clamorous and an.
plauding people.
What does it mean?" asked my
friend. as he guided his horse in and
out among the trees toward the edge
Of the Enclosure.
ITS Professor Andrus. I suspect"
he answered, rising in the buggy as
he spoke, and peering eagerly above
the heads of the surging multitude.
Z. And who's Professor Andrus?"
asked. striking a match against the
tire of the now stationary buggy.
wheel. and lighting the stump of my
cigar.
why. haven't you heard of the IA
nous professor" he answered, laugh.
ingly-immediately adding in a seri-
GUS tone: Professor Andrus is the
famous 'horse-tamer' who has been
driving the country absolutely wild
here for two or three days. Stand up
here where you can see!" he went on,
excitedly.
"Yonder he comes! Isn't that
splendid?"
And it was.
Across the sea Of heads, and facing
toward us down the track, I caught