The Blackfoot optimist. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1907-1918, 1915-01-07

T1STSs
clear, except to supply the dogs and
manage them. do not in any way d.
rect their course; l merely follow"
"Ye can't hardly fo'ce dawg." Old
Spicer sagely nodded his head as he
made the remark. "A dawg jest match
er'ly follers his own nose"
"Exactly-and they have followed
their noses here" The Lexington man
found the embarrassment of his posi-
ton growing as the colloquy proceed
ed. Il want to ask you whether, if
these dogs want to cross your fence, l
have your permission to let them?"
The master of the house crossed the
stile, the low sun shining on his shock
OF gray hair, and stood before the man.
hunter. He spoke so that his voice
carried to the waiting group in the
road.
we're plumb welcome ter turn them
dawgs loose, an let 'em ramble,
stranger. Nobody hain't a-goin' ter
hurt 'em. sees some fellers out thar
with We tibet mustn't cross my fence.
Eff they does"-the voice rang men,
acingly-"hitll mean that they're
a'bustin' the truce-an' they won't
never go out ag'in. But you air safe
in hyar. l gives yer my hand on tibet.
Ye're welcome, an yore dawgs is well
come. l hain't got nothin' 'gainst
dawgs tibet comes on four legs, but l
shore bars the two-legged kind"
Their was amurmur of establishment
from the road. Disregarding it, Spicer
South turned his face toward the
house.
you boys kin come out" he shout
er, IAN leave yore guns inside
The leashes were slipped from the
dogs. They leaped forward, and made
directly for Samson, who sat as I'M
moving as lifeless image on the tor
step Of the stile. There was a half-mo-
ment of terrific suspense, then the
beasts clambered by the seated figure,
passing on each side and circled aim
lessly about the yard-their quest I'M
ended. They shifted indifferently about
the trouser legs of the men who saun-
tered indolently out of the door. They
trotted into the house and out again,
and mingled with the mongrel home
pack that snarled and growled hos.
tility for this invasion. Then, they
came once more to the stile AS they
climbed out, Samson South reached
up and stroked tawny head, and the
bloodhound paused moment to wag
its tail in friendship, before it jumped
down to the road, and trotted gingerly
onward.
I'm obliged to you, sir" said the
man from the Bluegrass, with a voic~
of immense relief
The moment of suspense seemed
past, and. in the relief of the averted
clash, the master Of hounds forgot
that his dogs stood branded as false
trailers. But when he rejolned the
group in the road he found himself
looking into surly visages, and the
features Of Jim HOLMAN in particular
were black in their scowl of smolder-
ing wrath.
why didn't ye ak him." growled
the kinsman of the man who had been |
shot, "whar the other feller's att"
What other fellow?" echoed the |
Lexington man.
Jim Hollman's voice rose trucu.
lently. and his words drifted, as he
meant them to, across to the ears of |
the clansmen who stood in the yard
Of Spicer South.
"Them dawgs Of your'n come up
Misery a-hellin'. They hain't never
turned aside, an onless they're plumb
ornery, no-'count ours tibet don't know
their business, they come for some
reason. They scanned mighty inter-