San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1923-02-04

on.
"We could get another horse, may
be, and fix up the old wagon so we
could do our own hauling" she sug-
gested. "And we'd have the team for
the blowing, come spring, too"
THAT'S right" He meditated. "Too
bad, the way that bottom lands gone
back to scrub. Good money in the
farm, if it was run right"
dad never would farm" she said.
Il guess he wasn't cut out for it. But
he wouldn't sell, either. Nathan Ho-
bart's tried to buy the plaee dozen
| times"
"Well, If he wants to buy it now,
he'll have to bid high for it," Stephen
chucled. "Retts, we're going to give
him a happy winter, watching u.s."
Retta Duncan lifted questioning
brows as Stephen came to the screened
doorway. He was mildly ang.y; and
yet, below his irritation, he observed
a change in her. She was softer, some
how-more like other women than the
girl who had found him hiding in the
fence corner,
whats the NATTER" Her voice was
abrupt. "Did Dad run off again."
He grinned. "Sneaked the first time
| turned my back, the old rascal! And
that hays got to be under cover by
tonight. Guess you're elected, Retta."
"All right" She unfastened the blue
apron. "Pll have to get on some old
clothes, first. Wen have bread and
milk for supper-that's all"
He nodded carelcssly. With Retta to
handle the team, he could get the hay
drawn, and the rain which be expected
by night would be money in his pocket.
He thought of the potatoes in the 80
acre field along the creek. He'd been
right about that soil; farm it right, and
it would pay better than even Nathan
Hobart's land.
He grinned as the name came into his
mind, remembering the way Nathan
looked straight before him when he
passed, the gray at his top pace. Ma
than must hate the sight of the new
roof and the fresh paint and the mown
turf of the dooryard, the visible proofs
that Stephen was prospecting. Next
fall, il the crops brought decent prices,
thered be enough to rebuild the old
barn and buy a decent buggy-maybe a
flivver, with luck. That was Retta's
dream-tO drive past the speeding gray.
some day, in a car. Nathan hated gaso-
line.
"All right" She stood beside him,
roughly dressed, a wide-brimmed chip hat
shading her face. He glanced at her
curiously; the change was in the girl
herself. Even in old things, she was
different.
She climbed lightly into the racked
wagon, before he could lend hand. In
the field he vaulted to the ground and
pitched up the haycocks while she built
the load; it was fun, somehow, to lift
them with that old trick of leverage
which bent the fork-handle without
straining arms or back. He worked
fast, observing that she kept pace with
him, that the load mounted straight and
secure above the racks. He scrambled
up beside her when it was finished,
painting and wet.
I'm sorry about Dad" she said. II
hoped he'd help, this time"
1T doesn't matter-we put this load
on twice as fast as he and I'd have
done it." He chewed a spike of tim
othy. Funny, how he hates to work. |
He'll take no end of trouble to catch
few suckers, or shoot at red squirrel, |
but he won't even milk If he can slide
out of it,"
HE can't help. He-she hesitaed-I
he hasn't got anything inside him that
drives him, like us. l guess people
have to have mainsprings, the same as
clocks. Dad hasn't got any"
The word caught his attention. Fun !
ny that he'd never thought of it, like
that. Something in it. thought. If you
didn't have something inside you to \
make you work. nothing outside of YOU |
would do it. He remembered his drift
ing days before he had come back to the
Glen.
Maybe you're right. Not much doubt
what drives me, Ell? If it wasn't for
Uncle Nathan, / don't know if do
any more than your father"
He guided the team cleverly into the
between the mows, crouching
TO avoid the roof Using the fork as
a vaulting pole. Retta sprang lightly TO
III, bay and stood ready as he dug his
fork into the layer which bound the load
together.
at must be just poison to him-see-
ing the way you're getting ahead" she
aid between fOrkfuls. an never forget
he way he looked that day we bid in
he team. right over his head"
"Uh-huh!" He lifted a great mat
oward her feet. "This'd grade Num-
ger One, guess, if we baled it.
About as good hay as I ever made"
I'VE wont need all of it," she sug-
rested. ave could sell a few tons,
couldn't we?"
He shook his head SELLING hays
,ad farming. Pay better to feed it
winter a few head of beef. maybe.
Sell hay. sell soil. Uncle NathaHs
light about that"
He knows how to farm" she con-
eded "Tll allow him that"
"Oh, he's got his good points" he
greed, vaguely displeased at her tone.
Funny thing, Retail can see his
ide of things now. Never used to.
But he wasn't so far wrong as l fig
red when We SDlit mn. He Snid then !