Evening star., 1924-07-06

i
well, every man wants a son X
he's got anything to leave. This kid
or mine amt strong he's mighty
fra1l; takes after his mother. He's
-FOUR, and We ought to have had a
couple more by this time. Looks like
this little fellow gets sick every day
or two. some reason or another. Lu-
ella don't have any luck, raising him.
Now. mammy-she had eight boys in
eleven years and every one,of us was
husky as yearlings."
Maybe the milk don't agree with
him."
He amt been drinking milk. We
only milk one COW, and 1t takes
about all the milk to churn the but
ter. I put calves on all the rest Of
'em because Luella complained about
her arms aching every night. She
never was learned to milk till
learned her. 1t amt the milk. He's
just puny and amt got any consti-
tuition to start with"
x 4 x
THE rain ceased to blow. and above
the sharp yelp of the wind they
could hear now the slow, hollow
voice of the river Thunderbolt, al
ways more or less untama BILE, was
having a royal rampage.
From the racket she's out of the
banks" said Rumly. Reckon old
MiloIl get us across? Sound like
she was running pretty swift. Had
good highway and a bridge here
now and you could drive your car
home any weather"
Had a bridge here l wouldn't have
any car I'd have to sell it to pay
my taxes Hey-Milo!" He raised his
voice in the loud stock-driver's youp,
as penetrating is the call of wolf.
Old RoXie squared herself at the edge
of the stream. 1t swirled up to her
fore-calks. reaching little higher at
each eddy, till the old mare began to
balk and sidle. Fred lifted his voice
again, and from the other side Of the
river a hot spark of light winked. A
veil answered, blurred by the wind
and unintelligible.
"Milo's coming" Fred declared.
Il don't hear the cable
Hes coming-the lights moving
But the light moved-not toward the
river. but away from it. Manifestly
Milo Flowers had not launched the
ferry. Fred lifted another whoop.
Another call choked by the blow. came
back family Then hte light moved,
1ickered and went out.
Milo amt coming, announced
Rumly calmly. 81 figured the current
was too swift. Well have to cross
on the railroad bridge and walk to
your place. You wait here till / stand
Doxie in Nahum Brent's shed"
The railroad bridge was a fearsome
mode of passage. even by daylight.
1t leaped, spidery and frail, at tre-
mendous height, over the reeling,
rock -strangled bed of the river. There
was no lengthwise plank, and the
reach between the wooden cross ties
was so short that it lacked being a
single stride and was too long for a
man to compass two, so it was cross
ed in sort of monotonous trot. with
the water writhing dizzily below and
only a precarious eight-inch width at
the end of the rail, in case you dis
puted thoroughfare with a freight
train.
Rumly set his great feet doggedly
on every tie, swinging his old bag
rythmically. his derby hat clinging
to his head by miracle, his coat
tails Tapping about his legs. Behind
him Fred Susong was having a ppor
time. Like every other man who has
lived half his life on horseback, he
was awkward on foot.
you comm along all right?' the
old doctor called back. Good thing
the railroad happened to build a
bridge here, amt. it? We'd never
seen the far side of Thunderbolt to-
night"
At length they stood on the solid
ground of the right of way and slid
down the gravely embankment to the
road The Susong place was a mile
farther on, on a hill road which was
scarcely more than a siding boulder
strewn track.
In the wide, rambling old house a
single room was lighted. The shades
were drawn and light leaked dimly
from beneath-candle light.
you burning candles, Fred?"
"We had lot of tallow. Govern.