The Hope pioneer., 1922-09-21
CHAPTER v
y

B.
Impatiently Fairchild awaited Moth
er Howard's return, and when at last
she came forth from the kitchen, he
drew her into the old parlor, shadowy
now in the gathering dusk, and closed
the doors.
'Mrs. Howard" he began, "I-"
Mother Howard" she corrected. "I
amt used to being called much else"
Mother, then-although I'm not
very accustomed to using the title.
My own mother died-shortly after
my father came back from out here"
She walked to his side then and put
a hand on his shoulders. For q mo-
ment it seemed that her lips were
struggling to repress something which
strove to pass them. something locked
behind them for years. Then the old
face, dim in the half light, calmed.
"What do you want to know, Son?"
"Everything!"
"But there isn't much I can tell"
He caught her hand.
'"rhere is! know there is. T."
"Son-ail can do is to make mat
ters worse. II knew anything that
would help you-if could give you
any light on anything, Old Mother
Howard would do it! Lord, didn't I
help out your father when he needed
1t the worst way? But I'm as much
in the dark as you. All that I ever
knew was that your father came to
this boarding house when he was
young man, the very first day that he
ever struck Ohadi. He didn't have
much money, but he was enthusiastic
and it wasn't long before he'd told
me about hi wife and baby back in
indianapolis and how he'd like to win
out for their sake. AS for Newell,
they always called me Mother How
ard, even when I was young thing,
sort of setting my cSp for every good
looking young man that came along.
I guess that's why never caught one
of 'em-1 always insisted on darning
their socks and looking after all their
troubles for 'em instead of going out
buggy-riding with some other fellow
and making 'em Jealous" She sighed
ever so slightly, then chuckled. "But
that amt getting to the point,
though, is it?"
"If you could tell me about my fa-
'ther-"
"I'm going to-all l know. Things
were lot different out here then
from what they were later. Every
where around the hills and gulches
you could see prospectors, with their
gads and little picks, fooling around
like life didn't mean anything in the
world to 'em, except to grub around
in those rocks.
"Your father was one of these men.
''Squint' Rodaine was another-they
called him that because at some time
than the other fellow-and didn't do
1T. The bullet hit right between his
eyes, but it must have had poor pow
der behind it-all it did was to cut
through the skin and go straight up
his forehead. When the wound healed,
the scar drew his eyes close together,
like Chinaman's. You never see
Squints eyes more than half open.
"And he's crooked, just like his
eyes" Mother Howard's voice bore
a touch of resentment. II never liked
him from the minute l first saw him,
and liked him less afterward. Then
got next to his game.
"Your father had been prospecting
just like everybody else. He'd come
on float up Kentucky gulch and was
trying to follow it to the vein. Squint
saw hlm-and what's more, he saw
that float. 1t looked good to Squint-
and late that night, heard him and
his two drinking partners, Blindeye
Bozeman and Taylor Bill-they just
reverse his name for the sound of it
talking in Blindeye's room, I'm 8
woman" Mother Howard chuckled-
$50 ! just leaned my head against tho
door and listened. Then l flew down
stairs to wait for your father wher
he came in from sitting up half thu
night to get an assay on that float
Squint and them two others was tigur
Ing on jumping his claim before Ii,
could file on it and ell that.
"Well, there was a big Cornishmal
here that was kind Of sweet On-ant
guess always will be. He's beel
gone now. though, ever since your ia
ther left. ] got him and asked hin
to help. And Harry was just the kin