The Kendrick gazette. [volume] (Kendrick, Idaho) 1892-1968, 1920-04-23
CHAPTER lV-continued.

-
Fortunate fate, or whatever good
nigel 1t is that sometimes drops un-
expected favors, designed that young
Eden should the following day deliver
soal at the home Of Mr.. Melvin Dun
ran. Mr.. Duncan, tall. quiet and forty
I've, was at work in his garden as
Dave turned the team In the lane and
backed them up the long, narrow drive
connecting with the family coal chute.
As the heavy wagon moved straight
70 its objective Mr.. Duncan looked on
with approval that heightened into
admiration. Dave shoveled his load
without remark, but as he stood for
4 moment at the finish, wiping the
sweat from his oal-grimed face, Mr..
Duncan engaged him in conversation.
"You handle q team like you were
born to it," he said. "Where did you
ret the knack?"
swell. came up on RANCH" said
Dave. 1--WE lived with horses ever
since could remember"
you're a rancher, eh?" queried the
older man. "Well. there's nothing like
the range and the open country. If l
rould handle horses like you there
ISN'T anything would hold me in town."
"Oh, don't know" Dave answered.
"You might get sick of it."
did you get sick of it?"
Eden shot a keen glance at him.
The conversation was becoming per-
sonal. Yet there was In Mr.. Duncan's
manner a certain kindness. a certain
appeal of sincere personality, that dis
armed suspicion.
Eyes. ! got sick of it," he said. 81
lived on that ranch eighteen years
and never was inside school or church.
Wouldn't that make you sick? !.
So beat it for town"
"And l suppose you are attending
church regularly now, and night
school, too?'
Dawes quick temper fred up in re-
sentiment, but again the kindness of
the mans manner disarmed him. He
said:
mo, amt. That's what makes me
sick now. came in here intendin' to
get an education, an I've never got
even a start at it, exceE' for some
things perhaps wasn't worth the
money. There always seems to be
somethin' else-in ahead"
There always will be-" said Mr..
Duncan, until you start"
But how's it to be done?" Dave
questioned with returning interest.
schools an books cost money, an
never save a dollar"
"And never WILL" said Mr.. Duncan,
until you start. But I think / see
plan that might help. and if it appeals
fence to me. My wife likes to 60 driv'
Ing Sundays. and sometimes on a
weekday evening, but have so many
things on hand 1 find it hard to gel
out with her. My daughter used tC
drive, but these new-fangled automo
biles are turning the world upside
down-and many a buggy with it
Well-as 1 saw you driving in here
said to myself. There's the man fol
that job Of mine, If I can get him ;
but I'm not rich and couldn't pa!
you regular wages. But If I coult
square the account by helping will
your studies a couple Of nights +,
week. used to teach school ant
haven't altogether forgotten - why
that would be just what want. Wha
do you say?"
II never saw anything on four fee
couldn't drive" said Dave, IAN l
you're willing to take chance l an
When do we start?"
"First lesson tonight. Second les
son Thursday night. First drive Sun
day" Mr.. Duncan did not explain
that he wanted to know the boy bette
before the drives commenced, and h
felt that two nights together woul
satisfy him whether he had found tn
right man.
Dave hurried back to the coalyar
and completed the days work In hig
spirits. It seemed he was at las
started on a road that might lea
somewhere. After supper he SUI
prised his fellow laborers by changin
to his Sunday clothes and startin
down a street leading into the residel
tial part Of the town. There wei
speculations that he had "seen
skirt"
Mr.. Duncan met him at the door an
showed him into the living room
Mrs. Duncan, plump, motherly. 10
able In the mature womanliness I
forty, greeted him cordially. She We
sorry Edith was out Edith had tel
mis- engagement. She was apparent