Capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1919-1980, 1922-12-28


the captain bantered him. "Sure
there isn't a girl somewhere along
the right of way and you are fear
full, if you take the night train,
that the porter may fail to waken
you in tim eto wave to her as you
go by her stationi'
Farrell shook his head.
"There's another reason. but that
isn't it. Captain, haven't you been
visualizing every little detail of your
home-comingf"
"You forget, Farrell, htat Pm a
regular army man, and we poor dew
lis get accustomed to being uproot-
ed. I've learned not to build castles
in Spain, and | never believe I'm 60
ing to get leave until the old man
hands me the order. Even then, I'm
always fearful Of an order recall
ing it,
You're missing a lot of happi-
ness, sir. Why, really believe I've
had more fun out of the anticipa-
tino of my home coming than l
may get out of the realization. I've
planned every detail for months,
and, if anything slips, Pm liable to
sit right down and bawl like kid"
Lets listen to your plan of opera
tions, Farrell the captain suggest
ed. "I'll never have one myself, in
all probability, but I'm child enough
to want to listen to yours"
"Well, in the first place, haven't
communicated with my father since
landing here. He doesn't know I'm
hack in California, and do not
want him to know until drop in on
him."
"And your mother, Farrell"
"Died when | was little chap.
No brothers or sisters. Well if |
had written him or wired him when
I first arrived, he would have had
week of the most damnable sus-
pense, because, owing to tho unce:-
tainty of the exact date of our de-
mobilization, / could not have IT.
formed him of the exact time of nv
arrival home. Consequently, he'd
have had old Carolina, our eek, dist
ing up nightly fearful quantities Ct
the sort of grub l was raised or
And that would be wasteful. Also,
he'd sit under the catalpa tree Il
side the western wall of the hacienda
and never take his eyes off the high
way from Ell Toro or the trail from
Sespe. And every night afte' the sur
had set and I'd failed to show up,
he'd go to bed heavy-heartel. Sus-
pense is hard ON an old man. sir"
"On young men, too. Go on"
"Well, I'll drop off the train to-
morrow afternoon about four O'Clock
at lonely little flag station called
Sespe. After the train leave, Scspe
it runs suthwest for almost twenty
miles to the coast, and turns south
to Ell Toro. Nearly everybody enters
the San Gregorio from Ell TCro but,
via the short cut trail from Sespc,
| can hike it home in thrc' hours
and arrive absolutely una hounc u
and unheralded.
Now, as I pop up over the mile
high ridge back of Sespe, T.. be lock
ing down on the San Gregorio while
the last of the sunlight still fingers
there. You see, sir, I'm only look
ing at an old picture I've always
loved. Tucked away down in the
heart of the valley, there is an old
ruin of a mission-the Mission de
la Madre Dolorosa-the Mother of
Sorrows. The light will be shining
on its dirty white walls and red
tiled roof, and I'll sit me down in
the shade of manzanita bush and
wait, because that's my valley and
l know what's coming.
Exactly at six O'Clock, I shall
see figure come out upon the
roof of the mission and stand in
front of the old gallows-frame on
which hang eight chimes that were
carried in on mules from the City of
Mexico when Junipero Sierra planted
the cross of Catholicism at San Die
go, in 1869. That distant figure will
be Brother Flavio, of the Franciscan
Order, and the old boy is going to
ramp up and down in front of those
chimes With a hammer and give me
concert. He'll bang out 'Adeste
Fideles' and Gloria in Excelsis.
That's a cinch, because he's Great
ure of habit. Occasionally he plays
Lead, Kindly Light and ave
Maria'!"
Farrell paused, a faint smile of
amusement fringing his handsome
mouth. He rolled and lighted Gig
arctic and continued:
Ito Be Continued.)