The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1920-07-23
CHAPTER vi.
A Man Without Name.

| The Pearlhunter sat on the door
step of the cabin, his face bowed in
| him hands. 1t was June upon the
slope under the trees; June in Wolf
Run churckling and chirking along
on its way from spring and waterfall
to the river; June in the heart of a
cardinal rocking upon the top twig
of a tall hickory; December in the
heart of the Pearihunter.
| Half way down the slope, beyond
the tangled underbrusi and in the
| edge of the grass covered open strip
that bordered the river shore, the
green was broken by a mound of
fresh earth. He had trimmed it 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 orchids-a lonely flower; one to a
wide stretch of solitude. Nobody
but he could have found so many, be-
| cause nobody knew the woods so we'll.
The river and the woodS--they
were to him as streets and thorough
fares to other men. He knew them
as the guide knows his mountain
trails. So he had brought his poor
offering-her fayorite flowers,-a
chalice of tears, dropping above the
grave of one to whom life had been
pitifully unkind.
AS he looked back over the years.
he found himself bordering the conf
tradictions of her life, in the light of
the story he had heard that memoir
able afternoon-the refinement in the
midst of mean surroundings, the
stern pride that had held her so long
in exile because of a word that had,
mayhap, been long repented. The
muck and CRIME of the river had
never smudged her Through it all
she had kept as pure, as white, as a
flake of snow-and as cold.
What air y'u calculating to do with
them wild roses here in tn tumbler in
the winder-keep 'em r chuck 'em
out? I caynt find but one more tum-
bier"
The voice of the old Boss half
startled the man on the door-step
The gruff old fellow had never left
him, night or day. He was inside the
cabin now washing up the breakfast
things, his scanned and seasoned face
red from the heat of the stove.
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, pink, a white-in a
tumbler of water in the window.
The vision of the Pearlhunter had
seen on the rock at the pool came
again-it had been just that, only
that; an exquisite picture flashed be-
fore his face and instantly snatched
he
again. 1t seemed unreal as he looked
back upon it 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
they were merely faded roses. He
went on with his task, task he had |
taken upon himself, a task which the |
younger man, knowing his ways, had
not disputed. The Pearlhunter him
self set about putting the rest of the |
house in order.
The Boss finished first. He was
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 ordin-
airy suitcase of the present day. 1t |
stood open, with the lid thrown back, |
exactly rs 1t had stood two nights be- |
fore when he 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
doubtless by his mother. 1t hurt /
him to recall the cause of that haste
The blood stained glove she had held |
in her hand lay uppermost, probably |
tossed there by one of the river men.
He continued to look down on the
trunk even after the Boss had joined |
him. The key was still in the lock-
In all his life he had never before
seen it Open
TITS time to know what's in this
trunk" -
A certain tenseness in his voice es-
capped the Boss.
Don't y'u?" Il
I've never seen inside of it before"
The Boss was in the act of scrap
ing his match. He stopped; looked
around out of the tail of his eye, but
whatever his thoughts. he made no
FIRST of all, here's this glove" the
young man went on, lifting e-.e glove