Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1918-01-26

the question of diet and of using his
resources to tie best advantage. He
had nothing else to do and his alert
mind seized upon the situation and
brought it down to fine system.
For instance, he did not open can
of fruit until the prunes were gone.
Then he emptied can of tomatoes into
the bowl as a safeguard against pto-
maine poisoning from the tin, and set
the empty can on the floor. During the
warm part of each.day he slid open the
window by his bunk and lay with the
fresh air tanning his face and lifting
the hair from his aching temples.
He tried to eat regularly and to make
the fruit Juice save his water supply.
Sometimes he chewed jerked venison
from the bag over his head, but not very
often; the salt in the meat made him
drink too much. On the whole, his
diet was healthful and in a measure
satisfying. He did not suffer from the
want Of any real necessity, at any rate.
He had his few books within reach.
he read q good deal to keep from think
ing too much, and he tried to meet the
days with philosophic calm. He might
easily be q great deal worse of than
he was, he frequently reminded him
self.
But he was lonesome-so lonesome
that there were times when life looked
absolutely worthless; when the blue dev-
lis made him their plaything and he
saw Billy Louise looking scornfully
upon him and loving some other man
better; when he saw his name black
ened by the suspicion that he was a
r,.stler-preying upon his neighbors'
cattle; when he saw Buck Olney laugh
ing in derision Of his mercy and fixing
fresh evidence against him to confound
him utterly.
He had all those moods, and they left
their own lines upon his face. But he
had one thing to hearten him, and that
was the steady progress of his broken
leg toward recovery. A long, tedious
process it was Of necessity, but as
nearly as he could Judge the bone was
knitting together and would be straight
and strong again If he did not try to
hurry it too much. He tried to keep
count Of the weeks as they passed.
When the days slid behind him until
he feared he could not remember he cut
q little notch on the window sill each
morning with Bucks knife, with every
seventh day a longer and deeper notch
than the others to mark the weeks. The
first three days had been so hazy that
he thought them only two and marked
them so, but that put him only one day
out Of his reckoning.
He lay there and saw snow slither
past his window, driven by a whooping
wind. It worried him to know that his
calves were unsheltered and unfed
while his long stack Of hay stood un-
touched-unless the cattle broke down
his fence and reached 1t. He hoped
they would, but he was thorough
workman, and in his heart he knew
that fence would stand.
He saw cold rains and sleet. Then
there were days when he shivered I'm.
der his blankets and would have given
much for q cup Of hot coffee; days
when the water froze in the pals be-
side the bed-what little water was
left-and he Clipped off pieces Of ice
and sucked them to quench his thirst.
DAYS when the tomatoes and peaches
were frozen in the cans so that he
chewed jerked venison and ate crackers
rather than chill his stomach with the
icy stuff.
Day by day the little notches and the
longer ones reached farther and farther
along the window sill until Ward be-
gan to foresee the time when he must
start q new row. Day by day his
cheek bones grew more clearly defined,
his eyes bigger and more wistful. Day,
By day his knuckles stood up sharper
when he closed his hands, and day by
day nature worked upon his hurt, knit
ting the bones together.
(To be Continued.)