The Columbus courier. [volume] (Columbus, Luna County, N.M.) 1911-1920, 1915-03-05
CHAPTER Vll-contlnued.

LeeCOtt stayed on q week aIteT mat
simply in Difference to Samson's insist.
ence. To leave at once might avo Of
flight under FIRE, but when the week
was out the painter turned his horses
head toward town, and his train swept
him back to the Bluegrass and the
East.
A quiet OF unbroken and deadly
routine settled down on Misery. The
conduct Of the Souths In keeping hands
on. and acknowledging the justice Of
Tamarack Spicer's jail sentence, had
been their answer TO the declaration
OF the Hollmans in letting Samson ride
into and out of Hixon. The truce was
established. When. a short time later,
Tamarack left the country to become
a railroad brakeman, Jesse Purvy
passed the word that his men must,
until further orders. desist from VIC.
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 exoneration 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 hnis 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
Spicer South's brain was no longer
plastic. What had been good enough
for the past was good enough for the
future. Nevertheless, he arranged az
fairs so that his nephew should he
able to meet financial needs, and to go
where be chose in a fashion behtting
a South.
November came In bleakly, with a
raw and devastating breath Of fatality.
The smile died from horizon to hort
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 over 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, vas 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.mlle along the road, Samson
halted and dismounted. There, in a
small cove, surrounded by a tangle li
briers and blackberry bushes, stood a
small and dllapidated meeting house
and c%hurchyard. which he must visit.
He made his way through the rougn
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. I don't want
ye ter think tibet I've forgot"
Before he arrived at the Widow Nil,
ler's, the rain had stopped and the
clouds had broken.
Sally opened the door, and smiled.
She had spent the day nervinR herself
for this farewell, and at least until
the moment OF leavetaking she would
be safe from tears. The Widow MT,
Ter and her son soon left them alone,
and the boy and girl sat before the
blazing logs.
For a time, an awkward silence fell
between them. Al last. the boy rose
and went over TO the corner where hi
nad placed his gun. He took II up and
laid Il on the hearth between them.
Sally" he said. 4 wants ter tell "
SOME things tibet ! haint never said
ter nobody else, In the fust place,
wants ye ter keep this hyar gun feI
me-"
The girls eyes widened with sur
prise.
"Hain't ye a.gtin' ter take hit with
ye. SamRonf"
"He shook his head.
Il halnt s-goin' ter need hit down
lbolOW. Nobody don't use EN- down