The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1923-09-14
CHAPTER ~
The sin-Buster.

In the fall, when the whole country
had turned to great cup of gold,
purpie-rimmed under the sky, Pierre
went out into the hills after his win
ter meat. Joan was left alone. She
spent her time cleaning and arranging
the two-room cabin and tidying up
outdoors, and In "grubbing sagebrush,"
q gigantic task, for the one hundred
and fifty acres of Pierre's homestead
were covered for the most part by the
sturdy. spicy growth. and every bush
had to be dug out and burnt to clear
the way for blowing and planting.
Joan worked with the deliberateness
and intentness of a man. She enjoyed
the wholesome drudgery. She was
proud every shutdown of the little
clearing she had made, and stood.
tired and content, to watch the piled
brush burn. sending up aromatic
smoke and curious. duh flames very
high into the still air.
She was so standing, hands folded
on her rake, when, on the other side
of her confiagration. she perceived a
man. He was steadily regarding her.
and when her eyes fell upon him. he
smiled and stepped forward-a tall,
broad. very fair young man In shoot
ing coat, khaki ridlng-breeches and
puttees. He had a wide brow, clear
blue eyes and an eager. sensitive
clean-shaven mouth and chin. He held
out big white hand.
Mrs. Landis." he said, in q crisp
voice of an accent and finish strange
to the girl, 81 wonder If you and your
husband can put me up for the night
I'm Frank HollIwell I'm on a round
Of parish visits, and, as my parish Is
about sixty miles square my poor old
pony has gone lame. / know you are
not my parishioners, though, no doubt.
you should be, bnt I'm going to lay
claim to your hospitality, for all that,
If / may?"
Joan had moved her rake into the
grasp of her left hand and had taken
the proffered palm into her other, all
warm and fragrantly stained.
You're the new sin-buster, amt
your she asked gravely.
The young man opened his blue and
friendly eyes.
"Oh. that's what l am, Ell? That's
new one to me. Yes. / suppose /
am. It's rather a fine name to go
by-sin-buster," and he laughed very
low and very amusedly.
Joan looked him over and slowly
smiled. you look like you could bust
anything you'd mind to-" she said,
and led the way toward the house, her
rake across her shoulder.
"Pierre," she told him when they
were in the shining. clean log house,
as off in the hills after his elk. but
can make you up bed in the sittin'-
room an serve you supper an well
come"
"Oh, thanks" he rather doubtfully
accepted.
Evidently he did not know the ways
and proprieties OF this new parish"
Of his. But Joan seemed to take the
situation with an enormous, calm i'm
personality. He modelled his manner
upon hers. They sat at the table to-
gether, Joan silent, save when he
forced her to speak, and entirely I'M
troubled by her silence, Frank Holli-
well, eating heartily. helping her serve
and talking a great deal. BY the end
Of dish-washing he had her history
and more Of her opinions. probably.
than any other creature she had met
'What do you do when Lands is
away7"
She told him.
But in the evenings, l mean, after
work. Have you books?"
NO" said joan its right hard
labor, readln'. Pa learned me my let
tiers an l can spell out bits from pa
pers an advertisements an what not,
but amt never read book straight
out. dunno" she added presently.
"but as I'd like to. Pierre can read"
she told him proudly.
I'm sure you'd like to-" He con-
sidered her through the smoke Of his
pipe. He was sitting by the hearth
now, and she, just through with clear
ing up, stood by the corner Of the
mantel shelf, arranging the logs. The
freight danced over her face, so
beautiful, so unlighted from within.
How old are you. Joan LandisY' he
asked suddenly, using her name with
out title for the first time.
Eighteen"
rs that all? You must read books,
you know. There's so much empty
space there back of your brows."
She looked up smiling a little, her
wide gray eyes puzzled.
"Yes, Joan. You must read. VIII
you-lf lend you some books"
she considered. yes" she said.
"rd read them If you'd be Iendln' me
some. In the evenings when PIerre's
away. I'm right lonesome. never
was lonesome before. not to know II.
Itil take me long time to read one
book. though" she added with an en-
gazing mournfulness.
"yyhat do you llke-stories, poetry.
"T'd li':e real hooks In stiff covers"
said loan. AN 7 don't like pictures"
T'Ns s''-nr'sed the clergyman. "Why