The Lamar register., 1920-09-22
cHAPT ~.
A Man Without 4 Name.

step or the cabin, his race DOweu IN
his hands II WAS June upon the
slope. under the trees; June In Wolf
Run chuckling and chirking along ON
Its way from spring and waterfall to
the river; June In the heart OF car
dlndl rocking upon the top twig of
tall hickory December In the heart
of the Pearlhunter
Halfway down the slope. beyond
the tangled underbrush and In the
edg. OF the grass-coyered open strip
that bordered the river shore, the
green was broken by Y mound OF fresh
earth. He had rimmed II round with
shells brought up from the river;
upon the head had planted cluster
OF orchids. the lady's-slipper Of the
Flatwoods. They were like her, the
orchlds--a lonely flower; one to
wide stretch OF solitude. Nobody but
he could have found so many, because
nobody knew the woods so well.
AS he looked back over the years.
he found himself pondering the con.
tradictions OF his mothers life, In the
light OF the story he had heard that
memorable afterpoon-the refinement
in the midst of mean surroundings,
the Stern pride that had held her so
long In exile because OF word that
had. mayhnp. been long repented. The
muck and CRIME OF the river had
never smudged her. Through 1t all
she had kept as pure, as white. as
flake of snow-and as cold.
What air y'u calc'latin' L do with
them wild roses here In tn tumbler 10
the winder-keep 'em r chuck 'ein
out? cayn't nnd but one more
tumbler"
The voice. OF the old Boss half
startled the man on the doorstep. The
grufr old fellow had never left him.
night or day.
The Pearlhunter had forgotten him,
the rumpled house. the dishes. every
thing. He lifted his face from his
hands. rose. and entered the cabin.
The Boss was pointing to three wild
roses-a red. a pink. q white-in a
tumbler OF water In the window.
The vision the Pearlhunter had seen
on the rock at the pool came again.
A vIsion-it had been Just that. only
that; an exquisite picture flashed be
fore his face and Instantly snatched
away-a picture he would never see
again. II seemed unreal as he looked
back upon u In the light OF another
day. But no. there were the roses. He
bent his face down and caught the
aroma Of their breath.
Let them be-" he said. They will
last another day"
The Boss made no reply. To him
sitting on the doorstep about to light
his pipe when the younger man called
him. With the freshly filled pipe in
one hand. the unlighted match In the
other. he rose and stepped back into
the cabin. The Pearlhunter was
standing before a small hair-covered
trunk, scarcely bigger than an ordi-
nary suitcase of the present day. II
stood open. with the lid thrown back,
exactly as 1t had stood two nights be-
fore when ne came up from the river
and found his mother dying. Its con.
tents seemed to indicate that they had
been rummaged through by some one
whose haste had been great-doubt-
less by his mother. 1t hurt him to re-
call the cause OF that haste. The
bloodstained glove she had held in her
hand lay uppermost, probably tossed
there by one OF the river men.
ITS time TO know what's In this
trunk"
A certain tenseness in his voice es-
capped the Boss.
Don't y'u?"
"rve never seen inside of 1t before"
The Boss was in the act of scraping
his match. He stopped; looked
around out of the tail of his eye. but
whatever his thoughts, he made no
comment.
First OF all. here's this glove" the
young man went on. lifting the glove
from the trunk. You know where
we-saw II first"
The Boss threw away the stub of
his match and felt the time-stained
and mildewed article.
"West Point" he muttered. Hits
IN kind them sprigs wears-officer's.
I'd say, offhand."
The other stood considering 1t laid
1t aside; and lifted the next article
eraU ~ Trunk. L aroYsd to h$ =