The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1941-03-21

Their future seems far from clear.
Pipe the peachl" as / approached
them. / merely informed them Of
the Administrators order for the
connection Of four-by-six portable
blackboard.
"You can; have anything we've
got, baby-eyes," said one. And still
another coyly observed that his own
schooling wasn't all it should have
been and 1t seemed about time to
be starting over.
1t wasn't, of course, as bad as 1t
sounded, being carried on with that
half-respectful and heavy-jointed
POPULARITY peculiar to the regions
where life is rough and chivalry is
apt to stay In It's shirt-sleeves.
And, for all their banter, they as
sured me I'd have my board, neatly
nailed together and ebonized with
fiat coat Of lampblack. They even
promised to have it at my cabin the
next day.
I rather overlooked their eager
ness to know just where that cabin
was. And 1t would all have worked
out better, I imagine, If they hadn't
first gone over to Wasilla where
fiourishes the valleys only open
bar, and where they were joined by
dozen or two other transients.
There, at any rate, they plainly
draY1k vSoora ,,,oor~ -, sII~ %l.ox xsvro
good for them. I could hear them
as they came in a body toward my
cabin clearing, singing as they
came:
"Oh, then, my Booska,
Don't you cry for me,
For I'm off to Matanuska
With the teacher on my knee"
Someone with an accordion was
leading them in that familiar old pi-
oneer tune. But didn't find the
newer wording altogether to my
liking. u
I closed and fastened my door.
I pretended to be writing at my
table end, sitting there, rather anx-
iously, as they worked pole ends
under the sill logs and tried to inn
part a ship-at-sea motion to my
small cabin. But they soon tired Of
that, finding the shack too heavy to
be converted into rocking chair.
So they proceeded to serenade me,
more noisily than ever And to the
general din they added a salvo or
two Of revolver shots. When ] real
lied that one Of the faces peering
in at the window was that of the
fire-eating Eric Ericsson I found the
last Of my patience ebbing away.
When they started to pound on the
door again, this time with one of
their heavier poles, ! could see that
1t would soon 60 down under their
blows. And that not only brought
the light Of battle into my eye but
prompted me to cross to the dish
shelf and reach for Sock-Eye's old
revolver. Then I lifted away the
crossbar and swung the door open.
But instead Of shrinking back they
began to laugh at me and my threat
ening firearm. They could see hesi-
tation, / suppose, in the very way
! held that old six-gun.
It was Eric the Red who swayed
closest to me.
"Mightn't it 60 off. angel-eyes?"
he tainted.
''It will," I warned him, unless
you stand back"
I could even feel an impulse to
resent his mockery stiffen my finger
on the trigger But he was too
quick for me. 4
With an unexpected upsweet of
his hand he knocked my arm above
my head. The shock of that blow
made the revolver 60 off, high in
the air, and before the smoke
cleared away they were crowding
in closer, pretending to be fighting
for its possession. I could see, by
their laughing faces, that they rath-
er liked my struggles. But they
made 1t a point to keep my right
hand pinioned above my head.
sit mustn't lose it's temper" said
Ericsson, with his face close to mine.
He even passed mockingly admiring
: fingers across my tumbled forelock.
And as ! shrank back from that
odious touch a motor truck Of bat
tleship-gray came Gathering across
the clearing.
It wasn't until I saw him pushing
in through the crowd that realized
the newcomer was Lander. He scat
tered the startled transients right
and left as he came. A heavier
bodied man, who tried to block his
way, went suddenly fiat on the door
yard soil as my rescuer's fist thud-
ded against his jaw. The crowd
was no longer laughing.
Ericsson, close to me in the door
way, half-turned to fathom the rea-
son for the sudden silence. And I
could see Lander's mouth harden
into grimmer line as he saw
and recognized that half-turned
face. The mallet-like fist, swinging
for the second time, sent my tor
mentor sprawling in across the cab
in floor. He lay there, face-down, as