The Lamar register. [volume] (Lamar, Colo.) 1889-1952, 1916-01-26
THE LOST LETTER
BY CLARA sREvooRT.

done their WOrk, LOT lne Hoahs anu
groans had stopped. Jimmie's mother
had slipped away few minutes be-
fore, leaving Uncle Dick in charge.
Poor Dick" she reflected as she
departed. He hasn't been himself
since Mary Hampstead went away in
the fall. Here it's almost April and
he hasn't had any word from her yet.
can't understand 1t at all. l always
had an idea that she promised to give
Dick an answer in that letter he's
looked for so eagerly and that has
never come"
The front door stood open and the
breeze came in soft and warm from
the south The sun, too. was as bright
and the sky as blue as June.
Near the shed door stood an old
fishing rod. Dick walked over and
picked it up. The soft wind and blue
sky and the whole outdoors were call
ing him toward the river.
Jimmie and his toothaehe were for
gotten while he made his way down
the muddy road with the fishing rod
over his shoulder and bucket Of bait
in his hand.
As he turned off the road to go
through the broken place in the Hemp
stead's fence, and thence through the
hickory grove toward the river, he
heard a horse behind him. He turned
and looked straight into the startled
blue eyes of Mary Hampstead. But
while he stood paralyZed. the look in
the blue eyes changed instantly to
one OF contempt as her horse gal
Hoped by.
Mary homei Could 1t really be the
girl who had teasingly promised him
his answer in the first letter on her
visit West
He turned blindly toward the river
and when he finally reached the place
threw himself down dejectedly on q
rock and tried to think.
Meanwhile. Jimmie had a nice com
Portable nap, thanks to his mothers
doctoring and a quiet house. after
which he wakened and hoped out Of
bed, yelling for someone to come and
put his clothes on him.
No one answered Jimmie went
down stairs to investigate the silence.
There was no one there. but the front
wind that blew in felt delicious. Jim
mie went out on to the porch.
What a bully wind for a kite, and
here he'd been shut up all day missing
it, Suddenly he remembered he had
no kite. Yesterday II had hooked on
top OF the red oak and stuck there.
Jimmie started for the tree, the wind
blowing his night gown around his
bare legs and feet. The soft ground
oozed up through his toes and he
squealed delightedly. But the water
in the creek was cold-too cold 20
wade through! Ooch!
He knew the very thing! Uncle
Ned's bootsi Back to the house and
into Uncle Ned's room. He knew
where the boots were-in a corner OF
the cupboard. He carried them to the
porch and tried to put them on. They
were miles too high and too heavy.
Out of one boot shot something that
had been white. Now II was dirty,
wrinkled and twisted. Jimmy grabbed
1t and tore away the outside. We'll,
I'll use this old letter for a kite, II
can't get mine. Where's that string
had?"
The creek and boots were forgotten.
Jimmie, still in midnight attire. defied
the proprieties and the toothache, by
dancing gleefully all over the farm
with his homemade kite.
Over in the Hampstead yard Mary
was pondering about the look of mis-
cry in Dick Randall's eyes as she had
passed him. It was almost time to
feed the chickens. and she started for
the granary.
What in the world could that be
tearing along the fence and yelling at
something in the air?
Sharp OF wits and speedy OF limb,
Mary soon had little Jimmy in her
arms. She wrapped her apron about
him and carried him back to her
house, the kite training on the ground.
Bless his heart, he's got a letter for
a kite" said her mother. Mary grab
bed it up suddenly.
Jimmie, where did you get thls?"
out of Uncle Ned's boots" he gig
gled. Il just found it,"
Mary made suddenly for the door. A
few minutes later Dick heard the
twigs breaking near him, but did not
look around. 1t mattered little who
was coming.
Suddenly two soft, warm hands COW