The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1937-03-05

When the sergeant left, MI. Wood
house went to look for Efrem, whom
he found wedding the vegetable beds.
He wanted to give Efrem a scare:
"Efrem," he said sternly.
yes, sir"
II wish to speak to you"
Efrem shook the dirt off his hands
tween the beds joined his employer.
He looked rather shamefaced.
THE police have just been here,
Efrem, and they know that it was you
who killed the dog last night. He was
with the Kent servants. I suppose you
know that if instead of the dog you
had shot one Of them you would Y
! Efrem hung his head without answer
ing. Large beads of perspiration ap-
peared on his forehead, he clasped
and %unclaSped his large hands and
then let them drop to his sides. He
sighed.
Mr.. Woodhouse felt sorry for him,
but he decided that if he deprived
him of his gun it would teach him
to be more careful another time.
II am going back to the house now"
he said, "and I'm going to take your
in the library"
Eyes sir" Efrem answered hunbly.
His face fell.
When Mr.. Woodhouse disappeared
from sight Efrem went to his room,
washed his hands and brushed the
dirt off his clothes; he undid the
leather belt and holding it tenderly
together with the case enclosing the
into the library. He laid it on a table
while MI. Woodhouse watched. Efrem's
face showed that the punishment had
had a tremendous effect.
Instead of going out into the garden
again Efrem returned to his little bare
room over the garage. He sat Town
in front of the empty table, put his
elbows on it, and buried his face in
his hands. Presently hot tears began
to trickle through his fingers and
down his wrists. He had been trying
to do his duty, something had gone
wrong but he did not understand
what was his offense. The revolver
had been taken away from him, ne
was diSarmed, once again he had ceased
being a Cossack.
He remained in his room until dark.
He did not want to see anybody and
would not go to the kitchen to have
his supper. At twilight when the house
hold was at table he went down into
the garden. Now and again as he
walked his hand went automatically
to his side to feel for the revolver,
and every time that he realized tina
the revolver WIS not there he x
perienced a stab OF acute pair. He
went to the farthest end of the prop
erty and sat down on a tree trunk
from where he could see the open
fields. His thoughts were now more
than ever concentrated on the past.
What would his father say if he could
know of his disgrace? He was taken
with a terrific longing to explain, to
tell him what had taken place. 1t was
not his fault, he was doing his duty.
he was defending the house. He could
see his father sitting on a bench out.
side the little window of their hut
and himself standing in front of him.
His mother was there too, her lined
face framed in a black cotton kerchlef.
her chin cupped in her hands as she
listened. Over and over he told his
story to them.
It was night now. The stars twinkled
brightly; in the depression beyond the
field a low blanket of mist had
gathered hiding the landscape. Efrem's
gaze swept the distance. which was
like the sea. like the endless plains
Of his homeland. The physical longing
to be there, to see those plains once
more, frightened round his heart crush
ing it like an iron band. Then sud-
denly he could not bear it any longer:
He rose, returned to the house and
climbed to his room at the top of the
garage. Without turning on the light
he got out his belongings. piled them
on the old fringed tablecloth and tied
It's ends in a knot at the tor. OF the
bundle. He put on his coat, his alb
surd white linen cap, took up his
bundle and went downstairs. A few
moments later he was walking out OF