White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1924-12-19
THE EXILE OF THE LARIAT
BY HoNoRE WlLLsiE
Copyright 1928
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY


II
less, wind-swept, lonely as the sky.
A single, long, sandy street bordered
by dreary frame buildings. The dark
river rushing harshly behind the
street.
The inhabitants, of course, boasted
much of the little town-particularly
the male inhabitants. Part Of this was
call being broad-minded."
sincere They really considered Fort
Sioux the center Of the universe and
an admirable center, too. But part OF
their boasting was a protective armor
donned to Offset the attacks of the
Women's Club, which, led by Hugh's
mother-in-law, Mrs. Pink Morgan, had
been bent on cleaning Fort Sioux,
paving it and otherwise making it a
comfortable place in which to live. 1t
takes solid front of complacency
to withstand the attacks Of woman's
club, but the men Of Fort Sioux were
solid to the core.
Hugh and Uncle Bookie, however,
could not be accounted as part of
these shock troops, although they
were citizens of the little town. Hugh
saw Fort Sioux only as shipping
point for dinosaurs, and Bookie saw
it's true beauty. To Bookie, the lonely
town included in its environs not only
the ugly streets and the hideous
dwellings but the canyon walls that
hemmed it in and the wide plains
above and the sweeping freedom OF
the sky.
Bookie knew that after all no town
however lovely, could bear comparison
with the architecture Of that canyon
wall He knew that no people, how
ever fine, could seem as fine as the
free ardor of that rushing river. Yet
from the window of his book store
Bookie saw the life of the little towr
as panorama of exceeding brilliancJ
and beauty.
Space, color, wide winds and mel
low sun, dust of believing herds
shouting cowmen, the smell of Leather
and horse sweat, the clamor of thu
locomotive shops, the shrek of trans
continental trains, the rush of Indian
ponies urged by unsmiling braves
tourists Fording up to Booklets Dud'
Ranch, fossil hunters, packing prehis
toric burdens, and always the unre
uniting uproar of the river.
Bookie was standing at his window
the window Of the Lariat Book Shop
when Hugh led his precious trail
across the bridge and up the street tt
the railroad corral. Hugh waved tt
him in passing. The old mans face
not Jessies, would give him his tru'
; Homecoming. After all, man mus
find that look Of home somewhere, o
be no better than beast with only
lair, Hugh thought as he turned tn
freight over to Freds careful hand
and trotted back to The Lariat.
1t was dusk and Bookie had lighte
l the lamp. He came forward as tn
i young man entered.
3 well, Hughie, welcome back!" b
: exclaimed.
Hugh grasped the old mans hands
: Uncle Bookie," he cried, 1--WE had
wonderful trip"
"You cleaned out the cave, Hugh
r lie"
Eyes, Uncle Bookie! You don
4 really mind, do your"
Bookie looked into Hugh's cage
r face with wistrul earnestness, shrul
( ged his shoulders slightly and sal
finally, "Sit down and let me look a
? you. There Is plenty of time befor
supper"
Hugh smiled, perched on the cou1
i ter and proceeded to light his pip
Then he returned the old mans gaz,
n the little smile of affection continuin
u to hover around his fine mouth. Their
was no face in the world that he'll
4 quite the place in Hugh's heart tha
! did Booklets.
, FLOWS business here, Uncle Bool
t ie?" Hugh asked after moment.
t "I've sold three or four books thi
8 winter" replied Bookie, with littl
: air of defiance.
I, II dare you to name 'em," CRIME
Hugh.
, 20 sold 'em all right enough" II
3 sisted Bookie, "only get careless |
my sales records, sometimes"
A.ruddy man of sixty strolled in q
the open door in time to hear thi
statement.
What you need is wife, Bookie,
! he snarled. He spat into the stove
, Some one to keep your accounts
: Some one to make you shave ever
, week whether you need 1t or mo-
Some one to keep tabs on your tobat
CO money, some one to hide your oil
boots on you, some one"
ITO Be Continued)
Painted walls for the nursery ar