Fulton County tribune. (Wauseon, Ohio) 1883-1925, 1918-06-28
CHAPTER XII.
The Brave Buckaroo.

The Brave Buckaroo.
Boise, Ida, Dec. ..
Brave Buckaroo--I wonder if you ever
in your whole life got Christmas pres
ent? I've been cultivating the Louise of
me, and here are the first fruits of my
endeavor-I guess that's the way they say
it. I've spent so much time sitting by
mommie when she's asleep and I get tired
OF reading all the time, a nurse in this
Ward-mommie has a room to herself, of
course, but not a special nurse, because
l can do a lot of the little things. Well,
the nurse taught me how to hemstitch.
So l got some silk and made some nice
soft neckerchiefs-one for you and one
for me.
This one I made last. 1 didn't want
your eagle eyes seeing all the bobby
stitches on the first one. 1 hope you like
it, Ward. Every stitch stands for
thought of the hills and our good times
I've brought Minervy back to life, and
try to play my old pretends sometimes.
But they always break up into pieces. I'm
not kid now. you see. And life is a lot
different when you get out into it, isn't it?
Mommie doesn't seem to get much bet
ter. I'm worried about her. She seems
to have let go, somehow. She never talks
about the ranch much or even worries
about whether Phoebe is keeping the win
dows washed. She talks about when she
was little girl and about when she and
/ daddy were first married. 1t gets on my
nerves to see how she has slipped out of
everyday life. The nurse says that's COM
mon, though in sickness. She says l
| could go home and look after things for
| a week or so just as well as not. She
says mommie would be all right. But /
| hate to leave her
I'm awfully homesick for a good old ride
on Blue. 1 miss him terribly. Have you
seen anything of the cove folks lately?
Seems like I'm clear out of the world.
1 I14a ax,6 q, hos n1 ic 10
limit for dismalness. Even the Louise of
me is getting ready to do something aw-
| full If l have to stay much longer. Nom
mie sleeps most of the time. believe they
dope her with something. She doesn't
have that awful pain so bad So / don't
| have anything to do but sit around and
read and sew and wait for her to wake
up and want something.
And this is Christmas, almost I Won
. der what youth be doing. Say, Ward, II
1 you want to be perfect jewel of man
send me some of that jerlSy you've got
hanging at the head of your bunk.
swiped some that last time 1 was there
It would taste mighty good to me now'
after all this hospital truck.
Well merry Christmas Pal-o' mine,
and here's hoping you and mommie and
1 will be eating turkey together at the
Mummy mum! Wouldn't that taste good,
though?
Now remember and write a whole tablet
full to BILLY LOUISE.
Phoebe put that letter on the mantle;
over the fireplace the day after Christ
mas.
Billy Louise refrained from expect
ing any reply until after New Years;
then she began to look for letter,
and when the days passed and brought
her no word her moods changed often
er than the weather.
Wards literary efforts along about
that time consisted of cutting notcheS
in the window sill beside his bunk.
; On the day when the stage driver
gave Billy Louise's letter to Phoebe
Ward cut deeper, wider notch, think
ing that day was Christmas. Under
the notch he scratched a word will
! the point of his knife. 1t had foul
letters, and it told eloquently of the
. state of mind he was in.
. The letter gathered dust upon the
mantel down at the Wolverine Wher
the postmark was more than two
weeks old another letter came, ant
Phoebe laid it on the first one will
fingers that trembled a little. Phoebt
had letter of her own that day Boil
were thin, and the addresses were NOR,
scrawly than usual. Phoebe's mdiai
instinct warned her that somethin,
: was amisS.
This was Wards letter:
!, Oh, God, Ward, mommie's dead. Sh
died last night. / thought she was asleel
till the nurse came in at O'clock Tn
all alone and l don't know what to do
wish you could come, but if you don't ge
: this right away, I'll see you at the ranch
. I'm coming home as soon as I can. oh
Ward, hate life and everything.
! BILLY LOUISE.
Please Ward, stay at the ranch tin
+ come. l want to see you. ! feel as
you're the only friend I've got left, nov
mommie's gone. She looked SO peacefu
t when they took her away-and 80 strange
4 1 didn't belong to her any more. l fel
as If l didn't know her at all-and ther
is such an awful gap in my life-mayb
you'll understand. You always do.
+ The day that letter was write
n Ward drew plan of the house b
D meant to build some day, with wild
porch on the 'front.' where hammoc
I would swing comfortably.
+ He had no presentiment of Billy
h need of him, which was just as wei
v since he was absolutely powerless t
h help her.
t Billy Louise, having arrived une,
pectedly ON the stage, pulled off he
y fur lined mittens and put her chile
hands before the swapping blaze in th
r fireplace. Her eyes were tired an
Q sunken, and, her mouth dropped pit
Z fully at the corners but aside frol