Western news and the Libby times. [volume] (Libby, Mont.) 1920-1933, 1931-09-24


home like this-after years-after
years"
"Ah. Penelope ~
She stared "Whos"
Strange lady surely to thee above
all womankind the Olympians have
given heart that cannot be softened.
No other woman In the world would
harden her heart to stand thus nloof
from her husband, who after travail
md sore had come to her to
his own country"
You and your miserable Milton !"
He looked only slightly surprised
and did not correct her
One by one. and then In groups and
then In crowds The neishhors and
tnwnspeople began to come in--the
Wyatis. Louie EIefner. Cass Peerv,
Mott Rixler. Ike Halves. Graf Gotch.
Doc Nisbett-the local politicians. the
storekeepers. their wives. They came
out Of curiosity. though they felt
proper resentment toward this strange
this battling creature who had rid
den carelesslv away. leaving his wife
and children to fend for themselves.
and now had ridden as casually back
again But at sight OF Yancey Cravat
In his Rough Rider uniform of khaki.
q. s. v. ON the collar, they were
shared again In the mesh OF his en-
chantment. The Rough Riders. Re-
member the Maine. TO HI with Spain
There'll BE Hot Time In the Old
Town Tonight. He became a figure
symbolic Of the war. OF the Oklahoma
country. of the territory. OF the South
west--impetuous. romantic. advertur-
ing. The renegade WAS hero; the
outcasi had returned conqueror.
busy with its own growing pains that
1t mad failed to hear of Alaska and the
gold rush. Alaska! Go on. you
wasn't never In Alaska Heard you'd
turned Injun. Heard you was buried
up in Boot hill along of the Doolins.'
He got out the little leather sack.
While they gathered round him he
poured out before their glistening eyes
the shining yellow heap Of that treas
ure with which the whole history Of
the Southwest was intertwined. Gold.
The hills and the plains had been
honeyeombed for 1t; men had hun
gered and fought and parched for 1t;
had died for it, had been killed for 1t
had sacrificed honor, home, happiness
in the hope Of finding it. And here
was the precious yellow stun from
far-ofr Alaska trickling through Yam
cey Crayat's slim white fingers.
"D-n it all, Yancey, some folks has
all the luck"
Luck Call 1t luck, do you, Mott.
to be frozen, starved, lost, snow
blinded One whole winter shut up
alone In a. one-room cabin with the
snow piled to the roof-top and no liy-
ing soul to talk to for months. Luck
to have your pardner that you trusted
cheat you out OF your claim and rob
you OF your gold In the bargain All
but this handful / was going to see
Sabra covered in gold like an Aztec
princess"
The eyes OF listening Usage swung
to the prim blue serge figure OF the
cheated Aztec princess. encountered
the level gaze, the unsmiling lips,
swung back again hastily to the DASH
ing, the martial figure Of the lately de-
spised wanderer.
A tale Of another world: a story Of
land so remote from the brilliant
scarlet and orange Of the burning
Southwest country that the very sound
OF the words he used In describing 1t
fell with strange cadence on the
ears of the eager listeners Yu-
kon. Chilkoot Pass, Skagway
Kuskokwim. Klondike. Moose. Carl
bou. Huskies. Sledges. Nome. Sitka.
Billiards.. Snow blindness. Frozen
fingers. Pemmican. Cold. Cold Cold.
Gold. Gold. Gold. To the fascinated
figures crowded into the stuffy rooms
of this little frame house sqnatting on
the snn-baked Oklahoma prairie he
brought, by the magic of his voice and
his eloquence, tile relentless move
ment OF the glaciers, the black menace
of Icy rivers. the waste plains Of blind
ing, treacherous snow. Two years OF
this, he said and looked ruefully down
at the stump that had been his famous
trigger finger.
They, too, looked. Two years. Two
years. and he had been gone five. That
left three unaccounted for, right
enough. The old stories seeped up In
their minds. Their eyes, grown ac-
customed to the uniform, were less
dazzled now. They saw the indenn-
able break that had come to the mag
nificent hgure-not q break, really,
but a loosening, lowering OF the re-
sistance such as comes to steel that
has been too often in the flaming fur
mace. You looked at the massive
shoulders--they did not droop. The
rare glance still pierced you like
sword thrust. The buffalo head, low
cred, menaced you lifted, thrilled you
Yet something had vanished.