The Man from the Bitter Roots

e He

wn cow pony, stopped short as the boy riding him pulled sharply on the reins, and after

bulged with colored pebbles and odd-looking stones he had found in washouts and ravines. There was no gr

hed as though some one had laboriously rubbed it smooth. Where did it come from? How did it get there? Involuntarily he looked up at the sky. Perhaps God had thrown it down to surprise hi

hed he had not so long to wait before he could show it to his mother. He was tempted to say he saw it fall, but she might ask him "Honest Injun?" an

se made him jump, startled, to his feet and thrust the strange rock i

r? Why didn't you

See, papa!" His black eye sparkled as he took

did not l

We're late as it is, and women don't like people coming in on 'em at meal

jumped on his pony and followed his father, but shortly he lo

ng but horses and cattle. Certainly his father did not care about him. He could not remember when the stern man had given him a pat on the head, or a good-night kiss. The tho

he world looked almost bright. How did she know that he liked gizzard, he wondered? The look of gratitude he shyly flashed her brought a smile to her tired face. There were mashed potatoes, too, and gravy, pickled peaches, and he though

ing up your potatoes as though you were mixing mortar, and biting into one big slab of bread.

be here, but he didn't mind me. I found him

ddened to the roots of his hair, while the half p

ck," he mumbled in self-de

ly, and added to the others: "His mother can't keep pockets in his clothes for the rocks he packs around

nice to have a perfesser in the family-with long hair and goggles? I come acrost one once that hunted bugs. He call

at boys liked gizzards, she knew that Bruce wa

n like his dad," and

er shook

the bunch as far as I could see it, and he don't know the milk cow when she gets outsi

etful glance at his heaping plate, a shamed look at Mr

you won't work me over with a trace strap! You've licked me all I'll stand. I'l

precious rock dropped from his shirt front and bounced on the floor. It was a precious rock, too,

nd stubborn as a mule; but you'd better set his plate away. I guess

sts clenched tight against his sides, he ran with all his might, his bare feet kicking up the soft, deep dust. There was so

se a child," she said,

rt answered. "I've tried to thrash some of that stub

's why grandparents are usually easier with their grandchildren than they were with their own-because they've lived long enough to see the faults they whipped thei

inacy of tone which made the farmer's wife comment mentally that it

ad been as fixed and clear in his mind before Bruce came as though she were already an actuality. She was to have had flaxen hair, with blue ribbons in it, and teeth like tiny, sharp pearls. She was to have come dancing to meet him on her toes, and to have snuggled contentedly on his lap when he ret

, his thought a confused jumble of mortification that Mrs. Mosher should know that he got "lickings," of regret for the gizzard and mashed potatoes an

ce and neck, while he discovered that stretches of stony road were mighty hard on the soles of the feet. But he walked on purposefully, with no thought of going back, thinking of the c

hungry! He felt so little, so alone, and the coming darkness brought disturbing thoughts of coyotes and prairi

o pass alone. Hobgoblins-the very name sent chills up and down Bruce's spine-would be mo

g to the ground. Who would have believed that twenty-five miles was such a distance? He stopped short, and how hard his heart pumped blood! Stock-still and listening, he heard the clatter of hoofs coming down the road ahead of him.

robbers. With his fists clenched and the cold sweat on his forehead, he

horse was pulled sh

und ended in a broken cry of gladness, and he wra

hat you d

ed me. I'm

ired man's voice-something that frightened him. "Your mother's taken awful sick. Don't wast

m so, but the way he said it. Bruce had never known him n

nted as he stumbled on, w

high among the pillows. Her eyes were closed, and the face which was s

f upon the soft, warm shoulder, but it was still, an

lways beamed upon him with such glad welcome did not open, and the parted lips were unres

s died, he knew, but his mother-his mother! He tugged gently at one long, silken braid of hai

far country into which she had almost slipped. Slowly, painfully, with the last fain

ds came thickly, and her

en; she was not dead! He hugged he

r you-I wanted to see-them all come true. If I can-I'll help you-from-the other side. There's so much-more