The Glenwood post. (Glenwood Springs, Colo.) 1897-current, 1922-01-05

the travellers as IL appealing for help.
The boy was pointing toward the hori-
ION and mutterlng. Sarah saw at
once that his mind was wandering In
the delirium Of fever, She got out
of the wagon and took his hand. The
moment she did SO he began crying
like a child.
"Thls boy is SICK" she said to Sam
son. who came and helped him off
his horse. They camped for the night
and put the boy to bed and gave him
medicine and tender care. He was
too sick to travel next day. The Tray
Tors stayed with him and nursed the
lad until he was able to so on. He
was from Niagara county, New York,
and his name was Harry Needles.
His mother had died when he was
ten and his father had married again.
He had not been happy in his home
after that and his father had given
him pony and a hundred dollars
and sent him away to seek his own
fortune. Homesick and lonely and i'll,
and just going west with sublime
faith that the West would somehow
provide for him, he might even have
persisted on the way IL he had not fall
en- in with friendly people. His story
had touched the heart of Sarah and
Samson. He was big. green, gentle
hearted country boy who had set out
filled with hope and the love of I'D
venture. Sarah found pleasure In
motherins the poor lad, and SO 1t
happened that he became one of their
little party. He was helpful and good
natured and had sundry arts that
pleased the children. The man and
the woman liked the big, honest lad
One day he said to Samson: II
hope you won't mind If go along
with you. sir"
"Glad to have you with u.s." said
Samson, "We've talked it over. II
you want to. you can come along
with us and our home shall be yours
and Til do what's right by you"
They Jared along through Indiana
and over the wide savannas of ILL
nois, and on the ninety-seventh- day
Of their journey they drove through
rolling, grassy, Towering prairies and
up long. hard hill to the small log
cabin settlement of New Salem, I'LL
nois, On the shore of the Sangamon.
They halted about noon in the middle
Of this little prairie village. opposite
a small clapboard house. A sign hung
over its door which bore the rudely
lettered words: "Rutledge's Tavern"
A long slim, stoop-shouldered young
man sat in the shade of an oak tree
that stood near a corner Of the tavern,
with a number of children playing
around him. He sat leaning against
the tree trunk reading book. He
had risen as they came near and stood
looking at them, with the book under
his arm. Samson says in his diary
that he looked like IAN untrimmed
yearling colt about sixteen hands
high. He got up slow and kept rising
till his bush of black tousled hair was
six feet four above the ground. Then
he put on an old straw hat without
any band on 1t. He reminded me of
Philemon Bakers fish rod, he was
that narrer. For humliness I'd match
him against the world. His hide was
kind o. yaller and leathery. l could
see he was still in the gristle-a little
over twenty--but his face was marked
up by worry and weather like mans.
never saw anybody SO long between
Joints. Don't hardly see how he
could tell when his feet got cold"
He wore hickory shirt without a
collar or coat or jacket. One suspen-
der held up his coarse, linsey trousers.
the legs Of which fitted closely and
came only to blue yarn zone above
his heavy cowhide shoes. Samson
writes that he fetched sneeze and
wiped his big nose with a red hand
kerchier' as he stood surveying them
In silence, while DIR. John Allen, who
had sat on the doorstep reading a
paper-a kindly faced man of middle
age with a short white beard under
his chin-greeted them cheerfully.
"Where do you hail from?' the
Doctor asked.
| vermont" said Samson.
"All the way In that wagon?"
Eyes. SIR"
1
stuff" said the Doctor. "WheYe We
bound7"
Don't know exactly. Going to take
a claim somewhere"
''There's no better country than
right here. This is the Canaan of
America. We need people like you.
UnhItch your team and have some
dinner and we'll talk things over after
you're rested. I'm the doctor here and
I ride all over this part o. the country.
I reckon I know 1t pretty WELL"
A woman In a neat calico dress
came out of the dOOr-a stronghold
and rather well-havored woman with
blonde hair and dark eyes.
"Mrs. Rutledge, these are travellers
from the East" said the Doctor.
"Give 'em some dinner. and II they
can't pay for 1t. can. They've came
all the way from Vermont"