Shoshone journal. [volume] (Shoshone, Idaho) 1884-1931, 1921-09-02

: boy Is a pow'ful hard thing to do In
afeard We don't quite understand"
} ut was a terrible thing. know,
said Dale. "But it was the fortune.
of war. The Litlefords have endured
the fortunes of war In exactly the
same way. Come with me; let's 60
need your help; 1 can do very little
without your help. Come, John More
land !"
The hillman replied slowly: "Well,
I'll 60 with We over thar. But Ben
he'll hat to make The fust break a,
a-bein' friends, cause I'm purity shore
l never will. As soon as / git my
hat, Bill"
He went to the front porch and
took from chairpost his broad
trimmed headgear. Then the two set
out
They crossed an ox-wagon road,
sweet-scented meadow, the river by
means of the downtown sycamore
another sweet-scented meadow and
another ox-wagon road, and entered
the cabin yard of the Littleford chief.
Here, too, many old-fashioned flowers
were In bloom; cane fshingpole,
slender and white, leaned against the
porch; 1t made Dale think of
Babe
you wait out here" whispered
Dale, with a hand on his companions
arm. "Ill go in and see if l can per
suade Littleford to make the advance. |
I'm pretty sure l can"
He started forward when a hound |
rose from the stone step and srowled
warningly. At that Dale halted and
sang out:
Hello, Benz
The front door swung open, creak
Ing on wooden hinges, and Babes ia
Their, bareheaded and with q lamp In
his hand, appeared in the doorway.
He knew the voice that had summoned
him.
'ited with the utmost cordially.
Come right In !"
He scolded the dog away, and Dale
inferred the primitive home. He was
hown into the best room. where he
ropped easily into a roomy old rock.
r that was lined with an Unframed
heepskin. Ben Littleford put the
amp on a crude table. drew up an
Their chair, and sat down facing his
isitor.
81 hope We amt jest happened over
D minute or two on business" he
rawled; II hope we've come to spend
lie night WI me, anyway"
"Im here in the interests of peace"
ale began, looking at the hillman
luarely. 81 want you Littlefords TO
on good terms with your neigh
'rs, the Morelands. John is out
ere at your gate now; he is waiting
r you to ask him in and say to him:
cts begin anew; let's be friends
'ur people and my people, you and
e.. You want that. don't you, Benz
lbe did, I'm sure" IL
Littleford frowned, laced his big fin. q
rs together and twirled his big Il
umbs. Now that he was once more =.
home, with assurance that his -
lighter would entirely recover. he .
rs no longer weak; he had all his
courage and all his old, stubborn "
! pride back. I'd
I'll ak John in," he finally de-
led, "but he'll hat to make the fust al
eak at a-bein' friends. Me akin pe
n into my house is a purity burned =
cd start toward friendship, amt %
i, be
lie arose, took up the lamp, walked -
the front door and opened it, and .
led into the night: uu
Won't We come in, John?" Ill
l reckon l will, Ben," was the lazy
wer "Fo' a minute, anyhow. But LIZ
eckon l CANT stay long
loreland followed Littleford into Jus
best room. Littleford put the lamp ~
ide the worn leather-bound Bible PIE
the table, and they sat down. They Soi
Sed steadily at each other, and
e saw plainly that both were i'll ant
ease. Surely, thought Moreland, he AM
done great deal when he had
lie into his old enemy's house
ely, thought Littleford, he had do'
e great deal when he had asked. TO
n Moreland into his home. sm'
wiz