The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1936-06-05
The Getaway

mother. None of us did back there
on tn farm in Kansas. She was all-eeS
kinda queer. Heady. Notional. Yes, sir,
liked tn the.ayter, and things Ike
that" He stroked his beard. "she was
off with man in a medicine-show.
never did exactly hear his name"
whats Georges last name. Uncle
Henry?" asked Shall with affectionate
impotence.
"How?"
;, What's hats, Georges last name' &.
Uncle Henry meditated.
II don't know as I've ever heard 1t,
he decided.
But Georges name was Boettcher.
George Boettcher. And Uncle Henry
must have written it several times even
If he couldn't remember it, for few
minutes later he omplatned-irrele-
vanity, it would seem, unless one were
efficiency Of the United States malls.
This here RECESSION" he said re-
flectively, "ain't an-ees good thing.
No, sir. Now take this letter business.
It used to be mebbe you got a letter,
mebbe you didn't. But nowadays there
amt no avoiding 'em. Now take my
sister correspondent regular with
years. And when she died, I wrote
Violet and give her my address, though
never thought she would take me up
:" He stroked his beard. mo, sir, this
here precision amt all-ees good
thing"
mediately after getting out of the car,
the day of her arrival. What dirty
little cabin!"
It was dirty little cabin, but Uncle
Henry liked it. He liked his box-bed
piled high with bedding-the bedding
! was clean-and he liked his one small
But he didn't like anyone touching his
enamel ware dishes or cups, piled
neatly on shelves, or "monkeying" with
his small sheepherder stove, or disturb
ing his table with the oil cloth cover
ing, or handling his guns, racked on
elk feet bent to an angle.
Violet, as has been said, after one
glance, touched, monkeyed with, and
handled everything.
Uncle Henry, without word, mere
ly removed-for the first time in his
life-the cartridges from his guns, nor
did he even protest when Violet went
into the other room of the cabin and
looking around, announced that it would
self. ''Well just move these things out"
she said. land get bed down to town."
In this other room of the cabin, ar
ranged with care and constantly gone
over and refurnished and polished, were
Uncle Henry's camping outfit and his
mining tools.
Uncle Henry said nothing. The next
morning, and entirely without the help
OF George, he carried all his precious
possessions down to the barn and rear
ranged them on other nails and wooden
spikes. Then he gave Whitley and Sally,
his two horses, who were hanging
around the barn door, a can OF oats
apiece-which they shouldn't have had
and went out to see how the burros
were getting along.
Whitley was Uncle Henry's saddle
horse, and he preferred riding Whitley
to using his decaying car, now so hap
PLY taken possession of by George and
Violet. It was Uncle Henry's custom to
at irregular intervals, about twice a
month, riding Whitley. He always spent
the night and departed promptly the
next morning. Nothing could persuade
him to stay longer, but he "sre did
like talking to tn boys around the cor
rails" and, after supper, telling tales
to them dudes"
Shall rejoiced in Uncle Henry, but
he didn't trust him. Neither did Gar.
Both had seen too many prospectors.
Gar was especially skeptical.
Shall" he would say, "he amt quit
prospecting. You know the way vel
don't see him for a month or so, nor
nobody else? Well, sir, I bet you any,
it around" Gar waved a hand in the
direction Of the immense, sharp, snow
pointed Thunder Bows that cut rag
ged pattern out Of the blue sky five
miles west of the Upper E Bar E.
Uncle Henry, however, as has been
indicated, was sternly virtuous. He had
to arouse his mSrsi ndg matt Was
prospecting. He was like a reformed
"shaii." he reiterated, there amt no
more silly gamble in tn world than
this here mining. No, sir, not one. Look
at me! I been a-crawling around over
these here mighty inhospitable Rocky
what have got? :. A little old home |
stead I amt never proved up on yet,
and two horses. and three burros, and
five acres OF alfalfa, and $652.69 in the
bank. NOS cents. That's interest.
Six hundred and fifty-two dollars and
eighty-nine cents. If it wasn't for tn
old estate my uncle left me- me- I'd be : starv-
ing to death. And might a-been most
anything. Yes. sir, a farmer, or al
preacher, or or even operay sing
er, Yes, sir, had a mighty nice tenor ,
voice when I was young. Sometimes
even now, when I'm out alone, sings
to myself"
What do you sing, Uncle Henry?"
Gar asked with bright malice. His eyes
met Shall in long, level glance.
Uncle Henry was embarrassed
20 Alice. Ben Bolt,'" he said evas-
lively, land Way Down Upon tn Swanee
River. and them sort o. things"
A faint smile always fingered inl
Shall Erskine's eyes while he was talk
ing to Uncle Henry Old prospectors!
About the closest things to mountains
and lonely mountain valleys there we're
AS much a part of them as comics and
the smell Of bee's-balm at dusk The
nils were filled with their ghosts And
they were the only people in the world
who never lost the youthful belief that
somewhere, at the foot of some rain
bow, was pot Of gold.
And then and out of a clear sky