American Falls press. [volume] (American Falls, Idaho) 1907-1937, 1922-08-17
III

CHAPTER III
There had not been time to make in
quiry rs to the land Bruce was going
to-. He only knew one thing-that
it was the wilderness. The fact that
he had no business plans for the future
and no financial resources except a
few hundred dollars that he carried
in his pocket did not matter n way
or another. He was willing to spend
all the money he had; after it a
gone, he would take up ONE work in
life anew.
He had q moments wonder at the
effect his departure would have upon
the financial problem that had been
his fathers sole legacy to him. He
laughed a little as he thought of it.
But the idea that others alsO-having
no business relations with his father
might be interested in this western
journey Of his did not even occur
to him.
But the paths men take, seemingly,
with wholly different aims, crisscross
and become intertwined much more
han Bruce knew. Even as he lay in
his berth, the first sweet drifting of
sleep upon him, he was the subject
of a discussion in a far-distant mOun
tain home; and sleep would not have
fallen so easily and sweetly if he
had heard it.
1t might have been a different world.
Only a glimpse of 1t, illumined by the
moon, could be seen through the soiled
and besmirched window pane; but
that was enough to tell the story.
There were no tall buildings, lighted
by a thousand electric lights, such
as Bruce could see through the win
dows of his bedroom at night. The
lights that could be discerned in this
strange, dark sky were largely I'M
familiar to Bruce, because of the
smoke-clouds that had always hung
above the city where he lived. There
were just stars, but there were so
many of them that the mind was un-
able to comprehend their number.
There was also a moon that cast a
little square Of light, like a fairy
tapestry, on the floor. 1t was not such
a moon as leers down red and strange
through the smoke Of cities, 1t was
vivid and quite white-the wilderness
moon that times the hunting hours
of the forest creatures. But the patch
that it cast on the floor was obscured
In a moment because the man who
had been musing in the big chair be-
side the empty fireplace had risen and
lighted a kerosene lamp.
The light prevented any further
scrutiny of the moon and stars. And
what remained to look at was not
nearly so pleasing to the spirit. 1t
was a great, white-walled room that
would have been beautiful had it not
been for certain unfortunate attempts
to beautify it. There was a stone
fireplace, and certain massive, dust.
covered chairs grouped about it. But
the eyes never would have got to
these. They would have been held and
fascinated by the face and the form
of the man who had just lighted the
lamp.
No could look twice at that mas
sive physique and question its might.
He seemed almost gigantic in the vel
low lamplight. In reality he stood
six feet and almost three inches, and
his frame was perfectly in proportion.
He moved slowly, lazily, and the
thought flashed to some great monster
of the forest. that could uproot a tree
with a blow.
The face was huge, big and gaunt
of bone; and particularly one would
notice the mouth. 1t would be noticed
even before the dark, d~eep-sunken
eyes. 1t was a bloodhound mouth
the mouth of a man of great and ter,
rible passions, and there was an un
mistakable measure of cruelty an(
savagery about it. But there was
strength, too. No eye could doubt
that. But 1t was not an ugly face
for all the brutality Of the features
II was even handsome in the hard
mountain way. One would notice
straight, black hair-the mans age
was about thirty-nine-lOng over rather
dark ears, and a great, gnarled throat
The words when he spoke seemed Il
come from deep within it.
"Come in, Dave" he said.
In this little remark lay something
I of the mans power. The visitor haC
come unannounced. His visit had beer