h is striwiseP tBan fiction t!iey say. This story is mos 
 very, vei7 Ptr^^.ng'? A story of action, not description. 
 ix, will help make the bad good and the ^ood better. 'A j^ 
 it that is usfif uL 
 
 m is the man he Is today, the "has beens" and "will bea'^ 
 md speculatioits. 
 
 entire neighborhood was quarreling and the "feud*' waB 
 ^ut the boy played on with his horse who recognized no trouble 
 this boy better than he did his own life. The pleasant asso- 
 the horse's mind kept the boy clean and fre* ^-^ ^ * '^" ^»-'* 
 
 ^people do not go very deeply into this worldly life. 7>vcy 
 shallowj "ready to praise and reward or d nnn ':>nd i'ft-n!f > 
 i?a serious thought." 
 
 lidn't the horse even stumble?" asked the excited posti 
 "Hoss? He's no boss, he's human," answered the lea;' M 
 v"Let me tell you sumpthin' about bosses," Mr. Postmark :.l 
 le time the shootin' started that boss never looked at vv'^- | 
 •goin', just watched that boy; they sure did work toget) 
 
 It's in a name? Only a mark of distinction, 
 frabered by noble deeds than by name. 
 
 It is b'^ter 
 
 lat I have done niy duty as man to man and. pei-form 
 I am ready to answer, "do with me as you will " Pra 
 or damn and destroy.— C. Fox. 
 

 
 ^ 
 
 -n 
 
 r 
 
 C A.FOX 
 
 TAFT. CALIFORNIA 
 

 Copyright 1922 
 
 By 
 
 C. A. FOX 
 
 * i i-- 
 
p .... ^ 
 
 ^ Page 
 
 OUR HEROES OF THE PAST 6 
 
 PLEASANT VALLEY - - - 13 
 
 THE WEAKNESS OF ANGER 23 
 
 SOWING THE DRAGON'S TEETH ---..- 33 
 
 A MAN'S THE MAN HE IS TODAY 44 
 
 THE WORM OF BAD THOUGHT - ^ 52 
 
 THE LIGHTS IN THE VALLEY 62 
 
 GREAT OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS 74 
 
 THE MAN HUNTERS - 87 
 
 THE PLEASANT ASSOCIATION OF MINDS - - 94 
 THE HARVEST OF HATRED -------- 102 
 
 FUGITIVES ON A DARK AND DANGEROUS TRAIL 123 
 
 SILENT ON GUARD - 130 
 
 A CRY THROUGH THE NIGHT - 144 
 
 DAMNING AND DESTROYING - 152 
 
 A HIGH RESOLVE ----- 158 
 
 THE HOME COMING - 167 
 
 SHE WHISPERED IN HIS EAR AND HE 
 
 UNDERSTOOD 175 
 
 500679 
 
FROM THE PRESS 
 
 OF 
 
 GEM PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 
 
OUR HEROES OF THE PAST 
 
 By A Reader. 
 G. HUGO HUBANKS, 
 
 Author, poet, grandson of Victor Hugo tihe great writer. 
 
 When the white man matched his powers, in the past, and by-gone days 
 
 With dangers of the hour, lurking near in devious ways 
 
 Whon the wild beasts were superior, in the knowledge of the clan 
 
 And the cunning not inferior, to the courage of the man; 
 
 From the mountains to the valley, and the ocean to the plains 
 
 Up and down the rivers, they explored all streams 
 
 In the black and densely forest, they traversed far alone 
 
 And on vast and sandy deserts, they built their cabin homes. 
 
 They matched the ruthless savage, and the cunning of the foe 
 
 With that dauntless courage, ever giving, blow for blow 
 
 Lik<3 a storm beat coast in anger, leaping, surging ever on 
 
 Mid the turmoil and its danger, till the goal is ever won 
 
 They trapped the forest's wilderness — immensity — and vast 
 
 With throbbing hearts of kindness, Our Heroes of the past. 
 
 We reap the fruits of labor, sown in bitterness and strife 
 
 By the Pioneer neighbors, of some past, forgotten life. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THE ceaseless, universal conflict continually go- 
 ing on between the tribes and races of man- 
 kind; bred, nourished and fomented by racial 
 hatreds as far back as the human race has rec- 
 ords, augmented by environments, real and im- 
 maginary, crimes and injustices are perpetrated 
 in every imaginable degree of savagery against 
 their fellow man by tribes, factions and clans, as 
 though it were the universal law adherent to their 
 very existence, collateral and environments per- 
 meated to the very marrow, vibrating in every 
 impulse advancing and retrograding as circum- 
 stances may warrant to their individual ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 Coincident to the time of this narrative, there 
 was a territory where Daniel Boone, a daring pio- 
 neer, a hardy rugged, fearless, progressive, rest- 
 less in his confines of the north eastern states for 
 a more adventurous land, had migrated when it 
 was wild and unsettled. This restless man has 
 carved his name in the archives of American his- 
 tory. 
 
 Pioneering, whether it was success or fail- 
 failure, depended upon the ability and character 
 of the pioneer. Where untold and unknown dang- 
 ers awaited, this spirit bold and unconquerable, 
 fearless as the wild beasts that he was forced 
 
PREFACE 
 
 to meet, more cunning than the savage Indians 
 that he met in mortal combat, this restless spiril 
 of adventure and advancement bore him onward, 
 as it has ever borne the advancement of the 
 human race in its onward march to advanced civ- 
 ilization. 
 
 In the year of eighteen hundred four. Presi- 
 dent Jefferson purchased from the French Gov- 
 ernment a vast territory, which now embraces 
 *Our Garden of Gold — California," covering many 
 millions of virgin wealth — ^wealth of undreamed 
 values. 
 
 It was this territory that became the general 
 topic of interest throughout the United States at 
 the time the characters chronicled in this narra- 
 tive lived, and the topic was often brightened and 
 interest enlivened with incidents of interest re- 
 lated herein. 
 
 Aron Bear became dissatisfied with his sur- 
 roundings and conditions coincident to this period 
 of his life. With that thread of adventure which 
 is conducive to all pioneering, he decided to emi- 
 grate to a different land and conditions, than the 
 one he found in the old Kentucky state, the state 
 of his nativity, where he grew to manhood, where 
 he roamed the mountains and hunted in the for- 
 ests, fished from their streams, and toiled on his 
 little half-starved farm for existence. He had 
 subdued the adversaries to medieval man's ad- 
 vancement, as his forefathers had done. He had 
 tasted deep of the dregs of disappointment, as well 
 
PREFACE 
 
 as the sweets of life. He was in common with his 
 neighbors and the exigency of circumstances had 
 placed him, as we all are more or less, victims of 
 our environments. 
 
 It was here, and because of these conditions, 
 that Aron Bear, his wife Susan and their child, 
 with all their other possessions, prepared to 
 migrate to the undeveloped country — the West. 
 
 After fully deciding upon his adventure, it 
 became more and more a sacred duty they owed 
 their posterity. A duty to their children and 
 their children's children, as it has been ever thus 
 in man's material advancement. 
 
 The long and earnest preparation for the final 
 day of leaving the old Kentucky home — home of 
 their childhood days, sacred memories of the past 
 — memories so indelibly impressed and recorded 
 upon the human brain, that director of all human 
 energy, who so false and so pitiful, so mercinary 
 to the finer feelings of human nature that they 
 cannot discern the nobler qualities of the human 
 soul. Finally it became a day of fear and equally 
 a day of desire, then a day filled with doubt. But 
 the thought of the pleasures of being permitted 
 to roam untrampled and unrestricted, unmolested 
 by meddlesome neighbors, and quarreling, selfish 
 individuals, the thought became a wish, and then 
 a desire overcoming all else — a clean, pure desire 
 to live a life away from man's sins, away from the 
 sins of civilization. A noble unselfish achieve- 
 ment. 
 
 —10 
 
PREFACE 
 
 When Alexander crossed the Alps, he went 
 to conquer, to lay waste, to obliterate the labor 
 and riches of a nation. 
 
 When Livingston explored Africa, he went 
 to learn, to gather knowledge which might benefit 
 all humanity — but Aron — typical of the pioneer- 
 ing spirit, went West to construct, build and 
 create. The nobler qualities of ourselves demand 
 construction. Shall we construct or destroy? 
 
 The eventful day of departure came and Aron 
 Bear with his earthly possessions gathered to- 
 gether, took a farewell departure of his neigh- 
 bors and relatives with a sad feeling, mingled with 
 doubt and fear as to his future success. The day 
 was bright and the sun shown in all its magnetic 
 greatness. The farewell melodies of the birds, 
 the springtime brightness, the fragrance of all 
 that was so dear to them; so sympathetic, so 
 idealistic, so promising. Surely nature was not 
 unkind in bidding their departure with smiles of 
 her sweetest good-byes. 
 
 The first month's journey was slow and un- 
 eventful. Then came the trials of travel, some- 
 times over dangerous and unused roads, across 
 almost unfordable streams, up and down steep 
 canyons dangerous to both themselves and the 
 horses, they plodded the weary miles for months, 
 to satisfy their longing for the better future. 
 
 At night they would camp under trees of 
 heavy foliage. After their supper, cooked over 
 a camp fire they would sleep the deep peaceful 
 
PREFACE 
 
 sleep as other roving adventurous spirits have 
 done since time began. 
 
 CONTRIBUTED BY ANOTHER READER. 
 
 "This story must be read slowly and care- 
 fully," says another reader, "in order to get the 
 entire meaning. I noticed where the Leading Tex- 
 an, after looking at the determined expressions 
 on those bronze faces, said *yes also.* These 
 two words mean so much. It means that one act 
 of fearless and fair dealing by Silent had changed 
 the entire belief of the tribe of Indian trailers 
 from a hateful mistrust into a conception of faith 
 and reliance. Also showing the darkness of mis- 
 understanding when he told his ghost story, to- 
 gether with the hatred spread by the Texans had 
 caused them to hate and mistrust him. But 
 when Light and Truth was suddenly cast upon 
 this noble character, how readily these Indians ac- 
 cepted it. I hope we will all admit and accept 
 Light and Truth as these Red Men did, when it is 
 reflected upon us." 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 FRANK BRYON CRAIGHILL. 
 
 — 1^- 
 

 
 
 — •••-«a»BaiKUgf|||np 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE PLEASANT VALLEY, 
 
 |ONG before gold was discovered in Cali- 
 fornia, people were drifting westward. 
 Some went only a short distance and 
 settled down, but soon became dissat- 
 isfied and either moved farther west or turned 
 —10— 
 
SILENT 
 
 back in disgust. Others went so far that they 
 could not have returned if they wanted to; but 
 all who went west and stayed prospered either in 
 property or experience or both. 
 
 One fearless and determined man had de- 
 cided to go west. This was Aron Bear of Ken- 
 tucky, who took with him his wife Susan, their 
 baby boy and his dog, and all his wordly posses- 
 sions, which consisted of several head of good 
 cattle and horses. 
 
 Now Aron and his neighbors had never 
 agreed very well, and he was not sorry to be leav- 
 ing his old Kentucky home. As they journeyed 
 west he often said to Susan, 
 
 "When we get so far west that there are no 
 other cow tracks expect ours, we will settle down ; 
 and we will never be bothered by fussing neigh- 
 bors any more." 
 
 And thus the Bear family started west, Aron 
 ahead, driving the horses and cattle, while Susan 
 followed, driving the wagon, with the baby lying 
 crosswise upon her lap, and his dog following 
 behind. 
 
 Day after day, month after month, they trav- 
 eled westward, villages getting smaller and farth- 
 er apart as they journeyed on, each settlement 
 showing signs of its greater distance from civili- 
 zation, until they were past all trace of settlers. 
 No tracks of any kind except those of wild ani- 
 mals, — and these were altogether too plentiful. 
 
 Night after night, they made their camp by 
 
THE PLEASANT VALLEY 
 
 some spring or along the banks of a stream, 
 the cattle and horses being turned out to feed 
 upon the grass with the dog following them 
 around, sometimes all night, and in his inexper- 
 ienced way, believing he was guarding them. As 
 the country became wilder and the signs of wild 
 life more abundant, the poor dog would sometime, 
 come skurrying back to camp, with his tail be- 
 tween his legs, looking back over his shoulder, 
 trying to see what was after him. Under the 
 wagon he would go, half barking, half howling, he 
 would give the alarm that wolves, bears or some 
 other kind of animals were after the stock. Poor 
 puppy! As he had just grown to be a dog, he 
 wanted to help ; but he knew that he was no match 
 for the big, snarling things that were after him. 
 So, in his anxious fear, he would sit whining under 
 the wagon, while Aron would take his gun and 
 cautiously follow the direction from which the 
 dog had come. Night after night, Aron would 
 stand guard to protect the stock. 
 
 They were traveling in the high, rolling 
 mountains when they discovered a beautiful val- 
 ley to the west and far below them. Cautiously 
 moving that way, they found the valley more 
 beautiful than it first appeared. It was beyond 
 their power of expression ; they were unable to de- 
 scribe it to each other ; and there they stood, silent 
 and admiring, until Aron turned to the wagon and 
 picked up the baby, Tom, as they called him. Tak- 
 ing him over to Susan, they held him together be- 
 —15— 
 
SILENT 
 
 tween them, and pointed to the valley below, 
 which they told him would be his home forever. 
 There he would grow to be a big, strong man and 
 help daddy run cattle and shoot wild animals. 
 
 They drove down to the floor of this won- 
 derful paradise, an untouched carpet of grass and 
 wild flowers. There were wild birds, wild honey- 
 bees, and everything else to make this gift from 
 heaven complete. For they knew it was a gift, 
 and they knew it was for them, as they were 
 satisfied that no other white man had ever laid 
 eyes on that wonderful valley before. 
 
 Aron surveyed the valley that day from one 
 side to the other and found that there was no 
 choice; it was just as beautiful in one place as 
 in another. They were on the east side of the 
 valley, but they decided to go west, for, as Aron 
 said, 
 
 "We will be a little farther away from our 
 neighbors." 
 
 They drove across this wonderland and made 
 camp for the night. At bedtime Mrs. Bear knelt 
 for a long time in silent prayer. She prayed for 
 their future happiness and for the happiness of 
 the friends and neighbors they had left behind, 
 knowing that she and Aron would never see them 
 again. 
 
 Aron was very alert that night, more' so than 
 
 ever before. He was determined to protect what 
 
 belonged to him. At every little sound he was 
 
 up, gun in hand, stirring around among his stock, 
 
 —16— 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 THE PLEASANT VALLEY 
 
 ready for anything. They did not come too big 
 nor too bad for Aron. He was not afraid. 
 
 The next morning Aron was so happy that he 
 did not know what to do with himself. He said 
 he was not angry any more about the awful hard- 
 ships that they had gone through on that trip; 
 and he thought it took just these to make this 
 place look so good. He was sorry that he had 
 sworn so badly and so much on the trip. Turn- 
 ing toward his wife he said, 
 
 "I noticed, Susan, that you did not go to bed 
 for a long time after you went into the tent last 
 night. Were you uneasy?" 
 
 "No, Aron dear, I was so happy that I offer- 
 ed up a long, silent and sincere prayer. I thanked 
 God for everything, and prayed for the future 
 happiness of ourselves, our relatives and friends, 
 and for the neighbors we have left behind." 
 
 Evidently all of this prayer did not appeal 
 to Aron, but he was happy and said that he also 
 felt thankful and would say a prayer if he knew 
 how. His wife told him that almost anything 
 would be a prayer. If he would even say, "God 
 bless our home," or something like that,it would 
 do. Aron decided he would try it. So after think- 
 ing seriously for awhile, he started. Here is 
 his prayer: 
 
 "God bless my wife, my son and this valley, 
 forever and evermore. Amen !" 
 
 Aron built a big, double log house with two 
 adobe chimneys; there was a large lot for the 
 horses, and an ash-hopper back of the house. And 
 —IT— 
 
SILENT 
 
 they were ready to live. He selected a range for 
 his stock and proclaimed himself owner of the 
 west side of the valley. 
 
 Everything was just as it should be; even 
 the dog, a half -hound mongrel, took upon himself 
 a big task of responsibility. He had decided to 
 guard the stock from "varmints," and he was 
 doing it. Sometimes they would come too big or 
 too many for him, and then he would half-bark, 
 half-howl until Aron came to his rescue. But 
 never would he turn tail and run any more; he 
 would fight the uneven battle in some way until 
 Aron came. 
 
 Years went by in this wilderness of blessings, 
 until Aron's livestock had multiplied so many 
 times that he must seek a market for it. He 
 found, after scouting around, that people lived 
 in nearly every direction from him, but they were 
 some distance away. He visited them and found 
 a ready market for horses and cattle. Everyone 
 he found was hunting for gold, which they told 
 him was plentiful, and mining was all the go. 
 
 So Aron selected a prosperous-looking mining 
 camp and began to drive his stock there for sale. 
 He learned to take gold dust and nuggets, at their 
 value, in exchange for his stock. He learned many 
 things; one was that, on some scales, the gold 
 weighed more than it did on others; another was 
 that some nuggets were only gilded pieces of lead. 
 He knew one foreign woman who ran a store. 
 She wore a loose dress and would stand up close 
 to the scales, leaning over them just enough to 
 —18— 
 
I 
 
 THE PLEASANT VALLEY 
 
 touch the edge of the scoop, and weighing one of 
 her breasts with each sale of sugar, coffee or any- 
 thing that was expensive. He also knew that, 
 if he let the customer that he had sold to induce 
 him to get into a game, just to help business 
 along, he would always lose. 
 
 And when a "repentant" damsel would tell 
 him that now that her step-father, who had driv- 
 en her from home, was dead, she would go straight 
 home to mother and reform, if she had the money, 
 he found that she took the money to her sweet- 
 heart, who was always broke, sick and out of 
 luck, and needed money. 
 
 Poor Aron was pointed out as one big sucker, 
 and they gave him everything that was coming 
 to one when they find him. He would always 
 come back with plenty of stock, and he got well 
 acquainted. He was a good fellow and well liked. 
 And as soon as he got away from that nest of 
 greed, graft and deceit, he would forget, and his 
 peaceful state of mind would return; he would 
 be happy and come back smiling. 
 
 Aron found at the mining camp a number 
 of unsuccessful and dissatisfied miners. They had 
 formerly been ranchers themselves, and when 
 Aron told them of his home in the beautiful and 
 pleasant valley, they eagerly followed him there. 
 These men settled in various parts of the valley. 
 One of them, a big, good-natured Missourian, who 
 could see everyone's faults except his own, made 
 application for a post ofiice, and got it. 
 
 He called it "Pleasant Valley." 
 —19— 
 
SILENT 
 
 But the new settlers soon discovered greater 
 blessings than the beauty and fertility of the 
 ground. These were springs of limpid waters, 
 whose peculiar, health-giving properties made the 
 valley a place to be worshipped. 
 
 Aron continued to take large bunches of stock 
 to the mining camp and sell them for gold. As 
 this was heavy to carry, Aron always looked for 
 currency to carry back. He had been "up 
 against" all the small grafters in town, but, as 
 he could be victimized only once by the same 
 thing, it was necessary to spring a new trick on 
 him each time. He still came and carried off big 
 chunks of money. That was not in accord with 
 the policy of the camp; the attention of the big 
 grafters was called to it; and they began to 
 "frame" on the unsuspecting Aron. 
 
 One day, when he was about ready to leave, 
 a bartender asked him if he wanted about a 
 thousand dollars in one-hundred-dollar bills in ex- 
 change for gold. Aron said he would be glad of 
 the exchange and would pay well for the accom- 
 modation, as was customary. Out came Aorn's 
 poke and they weighed out a good thousand in 
 gold dust. The bartender took the sack and gave 
 Aron the ten one-hundred-dollar bills, at the same 
 time handing him a large envelope and saying, 
 
 "Put that money in there and seal it." 
 
 Aron thanked him for the suggestion, sealed 
 the money up, laid it down upon the bar, and ran 
 his fingers over the envelope, sealing it well, when 
 the bartender took a pen and said, 
 —20— 
 
THE PLEASANT VALLEY 
 
 "Now ni write your name across the back 
 and you will have her sealed and branded." 
 
 Taking the envelope, he wrote Aron's name 
 across the back, and then, as if looking for some- 
 thing to blot with, picked up a newspaper that was 
 lying handy, lifted up some of the pages and pre- 
 tended to be blotting the ink. Then he lifted the 
 pages up in a different place and gave Aron an 
 envelope of the same size and with his name writ- 
 ten across the back. Inside this envelope was just 
 enough cut newspaper to make it appear to con- 
 tain ten one-hundred-dollar bills. The bartender 
 had kept that envelope lying in the folds of that 
 newspaper for weeks, waiting for Aron to come 
 to town. When Aron returned, looking for re- 
 venge, that particular bartender was gone — 
 while Aron was in town. 
 
 But Aron brought more stock and took away 
 more money all the time. Baby Tom had grown 
 now to be a big boy, and the best boy on earth, 
 as he knew only that which a good Christian moth- 
 er had taught him. Every night the same little 
 songs, the same little prayer, the same advice 
 given. 
 
 "Love everybody, Tom, and everybody will 
 love you." 
 
 This was the one great point she wanted to 
 impress upon her boy; and she succeeded, for Tom 
 loved everybody he had seen so far and they in 
 turn loved Tom. 
 
 Tom kept good watch over the herds while 
 Daddy was gone. Tom had never been to any 
 —21— 
 
SILENT 
 
 of the towns. Aron had no accounting system, 
 and he was not anxious to have even little Tom 
 know about his big losses. He explained to Susan 
 that the mining camp was no place for a young 
 boy. And he thought to himself, 
 
 "I have learned everything now; I know all 
 their tricks and they can't rob me any more. 
 
 n 
 
 J-? 
 
 —22— 
 
@ 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE WEAKNESS OF ANGER. 
 
 HE little town of Pleasant Valley grew. 
 There were forty people, getting their 
 mail there, and every time a newcomer 
 
 would arrive, the postmaster's chest 
 
 stuck out a little farther. He had added a store 
 tliat carried "everything, from a needle to a 
 thrashin' machine," as he would say. When a 
 newcomer sauntered up toward the store, he 
 would find the owner sitting on the front steps, 
 cliewing tobacco, whittling and picking his teeth. 
 The postmaster would never answer many ques- 
 tions until he had asked the usual number himself. 
 They were, 
 
 "Where did you come from? What for? 
 W'hy don't you put that big hoss on the other 
 side? What have you got most of your load in 
 the back of the wagon for?" 
 
 And at times he would get real personal. 
 
 One day a fellow was . ^^^ck in the mud and 
 tlie postmaster went out to w«.ch and give advice. 
 One horse was pulling to beat the dickens, and 
 tlie other was not pulling a pound. He noticed 
 immediately that the newcomer was laying the 
 lash right down on the good horse that was doing 
 the pulling. He stepped right up and said, 
 
 "Hold on there! Why don't you whip the 
 other horse?" 
 
 —23— 
 
THE WEAKNESS OP ANGER 
 
 The stranger looked scornfully at the post- 
 master and said, 
 
 *Don*t do no good. He won't pull nohow; 
 'sides he's my swappin' hoss." 
 
 The postmaster rammed his hands 'way down 
 in his pockets, and sauntered back home. That 
 was too deep for him; he could not grasp it all 
 at once. Whenever anyone asked him if this is a 
 post office, he would look as wise as an owl; and 
 after deliberating what he thought was an im- 
 pressive length of time, would remark leisurely, 
 
 "This is a United States post office, if that is 
 what you're looking for. I do business with Uncle 
 Sam direct." 
 
 And if that sank in all right, he would follow 
 with more. He would say that he was directly 
 appointed from Washington, D. C, and as he was 
 a recognized agent of the department, he consid- 
 ered that he was an acting part of the United 
 States Government right now. 
 
 One day he saw a new outfit coming. The 
 horses were old and shabby-looking, and the driv- 
 er sat there in an aimless sort of manner, as if 
 he did not care if the horses stopped that very 
 step, or took another — they were going so slowly. 
 The postmaster stepped right out to meet this 
 newcomer, sure that this fellow needed a lot of ad- 
 vice, and he was surely going to give it to him. 
 He did not stop this time to say, "Howdy, strang- 
 er," but just as soon as he got his hands down 
 deep in his pockets, he said: 
 
 "Looks like about the first thing you'd do is 
 —24— 
 
SILENT 
 
 1 
 
 to buy some flesh to put on them old bones." 
 (Meaning the horses.) 
 
 The stranger answered in a pleasant way, 
 that the horses were old and had bad teeth; and 
 on that account, he bore kindly with their slow 
 motion. And then in a different tone of voice, he 
 said that sometimes kindness lay more affection- 
 ately on bones than the lash on flesh. 
 
 The postmaster did not understand; so he 
 walked around on the other side of the wagon, 
 in order to change the subject, stuck his hands 
 'way down deep in his pockets, until his elbows 
 were well covered, then asked, 
 
 "Have you come a long way, mister?" 
 
 "Yes," said the stranger, "a long, long way; 
 but distance does not seem to blur the vivid recol- 
 lections of the past." 
 
 Back went the postmaster to the other side 
 of the wagon. This fellow was talking all right, 
 but the postmaster could not put together the 
 things the stranger said; and he, a Government 
 Official, must not be outdone . So he came right 
 out very bluntly and asked, 
 
 "What is your business, and what do you 
 want here?" 
 
 "I am a minister of the gospel, and my wife 
 here is a school teacher. We are not a proud peo- 
 ple; all we want is a place where we can make a 
 plain and common living in peace and content- 
 ment, the reward of our efforts to be apprecia- 
 tion." 
 
 "Well, now you're talking," said the po.-it- 
 —26— 
 
SILENT 
 
 master, "I can hear you. Now we'll get together 
 right away. You can camp anywhere you please. 
 This is a free country, and wo are all good neigh- 
 bors and agreeable." 
 
 That night in the store and post office, a gen- 
 eral meeting was called. Everybody agreed to 
 lend a hand and in no time a house was built for 
 the preacher. Then they built a church and school 
 house, which was one and the same building. Aron 
 came back from the houseraising and told the 
 wonderful news to his wife Susan: 
 
 "We are going to have a school house, church 
 and Sunday school!" 
 
 What wonderful news for Mrs. Bear! How 
 she pictured the day when she could dress her 
 boy up in his new clothes, comb his hair, pat him 
 upon the cheek and say, as she kissed him good 
 by, 
 
 "Be a good boy, Tom, and study hard!" 
 
 The community was certainly proud now. 
 Every time there was an argument in the neigh- 
 borhood, they brought their troubles to the good 
 preacher. He would smooth away their difficul- 
 ties, and send them away happy. But if they 
 did not bring their troubles to him, he would nev- 
 er go to them; and when they found this to bo 
 the case, they all came to him and everything 
 rocked in harmony. 
 
 Aron decided that his trips over to the min- 
 ing camp were not as profitable as they should 
 be, considering everything. So one day he rode 
 over to the camp without anything, and told the 
 —26— 
 
THE WEAKNESS OF ANGER 
 
 miners that, if they would give him an order for 
 about three thousand dollars* worth of cattle he 
 ivould deliver them ; otherwise they would have to 
 come after them. 
 
 The business men got together and gave him 
 the order ; and Aron came back with new business 
 ideas. If this big business kept up, he thought he 
 ^vould need a hand to help, as Tom would be going 
 to school now ; and that left only himself and the 
 dog, which always accompanied Aron when he 
 took the cattle over to the mines. Aron would 
 drive the cattle day and night until they got tired. 
 Then he would lie down and take a short nap. 
 The dog would stand guard over them until they 
 got restless again, when Aron would drive them 
 on until they reached the mining camp. 
 
 The next time Aron went to town, he told the 
 postmaster that, if a single man came along, to 
 tell him that he, Aron, needed a hand; that the 
 wages would be fair, the home good, and the hand 
 would be treated as one of the family. The post- 
 master agreed to keep a lookout for such a hand. 
 He informed Aron that the books ordered for the 
 school had arrived, and the next Monday had been 
 set as the day to start school in the Pleasant Val- 
 ley school house. Aron rode right home to tell 
 Susan, who was so happy and excited over the 
 ijood news that she could hardly find anything 
 and almost forgot to get supper that night; but 
 finally she got settled down, and by Monday morn- 
 ing she had her boy ready and shining from head 
 to foot. 
 
 —27— 
 
THE WEAKNESS OF ANGER 
 
 What a big day that was! They both went 
 with Tom, and Susan and the boy were introduced 
 around and around to the parson and his wife by 
 the postmaster. All details arranged, Tom, seated 
 upon a split-log bench with eight others, started 
 the first day of school. On the way back home 
 Mrs. Bear could not keep from loving Aron all 
 the time. What peace and happiness there were I 
 And she knew that it was all caused by Aron's 
 steadfast determination to come west. 
 
 Tuesday morning, after Aron had rounded up 
 his three-thousand-dollar herd, he started for the 
 mining camp; but while he was planning big 
 herds, the grafters, with nothing else to do, were 
 also planning big things. When Aron drove in his 
 herd and delivered it, he was paid the three thous- 
 and in gold coin and nuggets, which made quite a 
 heavy load. As he was walking across the street 
 straight to his horse and dog. Aron met a well- 
 dressed stranger, who resembled the parson back 
 home. The stranger accosted him, saying, 
 
 "May I speak to you, please ?" 
 
 Aron answered, "Of course you can. What 
 is it?" 
 
 "My name is Good," said the stranger. "I 
 have just arrived here, and am starting a ranch 
 and wish to stock it. After just seeing the beau- 
 tiful livestock you have, I would like to buy a like 
 amount, for which I will pay you three thousand 
 dollars in gold. Will you sell them to me?" 
 
 Aron answered that he would be glad to bring 
 them right away. The stranger said, 
 —28— 
 
SILENT 
 
 "Step right into my office here and I will pay 
 you for them now, as I wish to do an upright 
 cash business." 
 
 Aron willingly stepped into the office, which 
 was a long, narrow building, made of one by 
 twelve boards, running up and down. There was 
 a table standing up against one side, and under 
 the table was a strong box from which the strang- 
 er took a leather grip, well and strongly made. 
 He unlocked it and there weighed out a good three 
 thousand, remarking, as he put the gold back 
 into the grip, 
 
 "I will loan you the grip until you return with 
 the cattle, and you can use it to carry your gold 
 in. I can keep what I have left in my strong box." 
 
 Aron thanked him and asked him to come 
 home with him. The stranger said he would like 
 to, but he had a crew of men getting the ranch 
 ready, and would come some other time. As Aron 
 placed his own three thousand dollars in the same 
 grip, the stranger locked it and handed Aron the 
 key with his right hand, his left hand resting upon 
 the grip. At that instant someone knocked vio- 
 lently at the door. They both turned quickly 
 and Mr. Good said, 
 
 "Come in!" 
 
 The moment their backs were turned, two of 
 the one by twelve boards, which formed the wall 
 behind the table, opened like doors. Two hands 
 appeared quickly; one took the grip containing 
 the six thousand dollars, the other replacing it 
 with the same kind of a grip, filled with iron nuts 
 —29— 
 
SILENT 
 
 and washers. As Aron turned back, he saw the 
 stranger standing there with the same hand on 
 the same grip, and did not even realize that he 
 had taken his eyes off it. The newcomer entered 
 the door and said that the ranch house was finish- 
 ed. The stranger told the man to go right back 
 and prepare for a nice drove of cattle that was 
 coming. 
 
 Aron left at once. He did not trade at the 
 mining camp now ; he bought everything from the 
 honest postmaster, who did not lean over the 
 scales with a loose mother-hubbard on. As he 
 rode home he was thinking, as many others have 
 thought before they found out. 
 
 "What a nice, pleasant, agreeable fellow that 
 was for a stranger!" 
 
 When he got home he told Susan about his 
 good fortune and the great amount of money he 
 had brought back, and what beautiful nuggets 
 the stranger had given him. The man's name was 
 Good, he said, and there was something good 
 about him besides the name. He would show her 
 and Tom right now. 
 
 He got his key and tried several times to open 
 the grip. Poor Aron! He knew that the key he 
 had was the key that had locked the grip, but he 
 did not know that the grip he had seen locked 
 was not the grip he now had. He recalled that 
 the stranger was nervous when he had locked the 
 grip, so he decided that Mr. Good must have brok- 
 en the lock. He was so anxious to show Susan 
 that he pried the lock open. 
 —30— 
 
THE WEAKNESS OP ANGER 
 
 It was too bad ! All the good thoughts, which 
 continued harmony had stored in Aron's mind, 
 were gone. He was too weak to stand the shock. 
 And raging he charged about like a madman. In 
 his weakened condition, he decided to go back and 
 "get" the stranger. 
 
 I say "in his weakened condition." For, when 
 a person allows himself to get really angry, he is 
 very weak, and should never attempt to do any- 
 thing while in that state, except to get off by 
 himself and, when there, give himself a good talk- 
 ing to. You can do it. Then, when you realize 
 that you have no malice, and can say to yourself, 
 
 "Now that I am sane and sensible I will act," 
 you can act sensibly. 
 
 And here let me point out the difference. 
 Aron, in his weakened condition, got right on his 
 horse with his gun, determined to "get" the 
 stranger. And when he arrived at the camp, he 
 found that the people who knew Mr. Good were 
 few. And they said that he had left camp the 
 night before in a great hurry, taking all his be- 
 longings with him. Like the bartender, he was 
 "gone" to certain visitors. 
 
 Now we will take the sensible way. Suppose 
 Aron, finding that he had been robbed, had gone 
 off, we will say, into seclusion until he had fully re- 
 covered from the loss, and had come out recon- 
 ciled with all the world. Then had rounded up his 
 herd of cattle and with a smile of contentmenc, 
 entered the mining camp. Mr. Good would have 
 been there to meet him with a smile, thinking he 
 —31— 
 
THE WEAKNESS OP ANGER 
 
 had not opened the grip and would get the cattle 
 besides the three thousand. During the hand- 
 shaking Aron could have embraced the slippery 
 one so firmly in those powerful hands that he 
 would have been glad to have a chance to return 
 the six thousand with interest. 
 
 But he did just as so many of us do. He did 
 his thinking after he returned. When he told Su- 
 san that he was never going back to that mining 
 camp any more, she said she was glad. And now 
 that she knew, she did not care about the money 
 so much. 
 
 "Aron, you have never been just right since 
 you have been going to that awful mining camp," 
 she said. "And now that Tom is growing up, we 
 must keep such stories from him." 
 
 So they agreed that the balance of their lives 
 should be devoted to the boy, because all they had 
 was his. And they also agreed that, if the miners 
 wanted the cattle, they could come after them. 
 
 —32— 
 
CHAPTER IIL 
 
 SOWING THE DRAGON'S TEETH. 
 
 CM WAS learning very fast, as any 
 child with a clean mind will. Things 
 were almost back to the happy and 
 pleasant conditions. New settlers were 
 coming all the time, looking for the waters that 
 cured all mankind. The church and the school 
 were the talk of the country. One day Aron no- 
 ticed that someone had settled right close to him. 
 He rode over to the place where the man, his wife, 
 and little girl were unpacking their things, and 
 asked, 
 
 "Are you going to settle here, mister?" 
 "Well," said the man, "I just heared about those 
 waters, and come right here to stay. I inquired 
 down to the town and they told me you claimed 
 that side of the valley, which I'm willing to help 
 you hold. And as I have a heap of stock, Fll claim 
 the other side and be your neighbor. And be- 
 sides, I want Betty here, my little child, to have 
 schoolin*. As it was, she was growing up like a 
 weed, no education at all. And now that we are 
 neighbors, just help yourself to anything Fve got; 
 for I sure do like to be neighborly with my neigh- 
 bors. And if you ever need help just call on me, 
 I'll be there. My name is Dave Ash and I hai'. 
 from Tennessee. May I ask where you come 
 from and what your name is?" 
 
SILENT 
 
 Aron did not like the conversation. It was 
 too friendly at first sight. It reminded him of the 
 recent past ; but he answered politely that he was 
 form Kentucky, and his name was Aron Bear. He 
 added that he also had a wife and one child, and 
 they would be pleased to have good neighbors. 
 And so they bade each other good day. 
 
 Aron was glad now to have neighbors. He 
 hoped the newcomer was just the kind of man 
 that he said he was, and would not turn out to be 
 like the ones in the mining camp, who appeared so 
 nice at first. Susan agreed that it would be well for 
 awhile to watch a person who had so many good 
 things to say for himself. 
 
 The next day saw the place covered with 
 workmen. The new nighbor must be rich, as he 
 had hired everybody in Pleasant Valley to help 
 build a house. And it was a big house, larger 
 than the Bears', and not adobe, but with rock 
 chimneys, and no ash-hopper. Was it possible 
 they were going to buy their soap already made ? 
 Well, they must be rich, that's all. 
 
 By all the laws, it was Mrs. Bear's place to 
 call, and she had gotten ready to do so many 
 times, but something trivial would prevent it, un- 
 til it had gone an alarmingly long time. And 
 the Ashes resented it but said nothing, not even 
 to each other, as they thought it was not done in- 
 tentionally. But if it were, Betty would hear 
 something at school. 
 
 Still there was no visit. So they carefully 
 told Betty to hint around the boy and tell them 
 
THE WEAKNESS OF ANGER 
 
 what he said. So brilliant was the thought that 
 they chuckled to themselves and said: 
 
 "There's more than one way to skin a cat !" 
 
 Betty thought about it all day, and decided to 
 throw out the "hint" on the way home from school. 
 She did; she started to "hint" just as soon as 
 they left the school house, and she "hinted" all 
 the way home, which was the beginning of a war 
 between Kentucky and Tennessee. 
 
 The first "hint" was this: 
 
 'Your folks are jealous of us because we got 
 the most money, hain't cha. You don't need to 
 come. We don't want cha. You're too poor. You 
 can't afford to wear out your shoes." 
 
 Tom had never before heard anything like 
 that, and he did not answer at all. And Betty 
 continued, 
 
 "Your old 'dobe chimneys are falling down. 
 You can't have rock, like ours. And your old 
 house has got holes in it you could throw a cat 
 through." 
 
 They both rode horseback to school. So 
 Tom, being very much annoyed at the attack, 
 decided to ride faster to get out of the way. As 
 he started to go on, she followed for a distance, 
 calling him a coward and shouting, 
 
 "All cowards run !" 
 
 That hurt Tom's feelings. He began to cry 
 and his eyes were still wet when he reached home. 
 His mother noticed it, as she would notice every- 
 thing about her boy. 
 
 —35— 
 
SILENT 
 
 "What in the wide world !" she said. "I never 
 saw you feel so badly before." 
 
 Tom did not want to tell and said so. And 
 if she had only been satisfied to let him remain 
 silent, what a difference it would have made ! But 
 inquisitiveness is one of the holes through v/hich 
 the worm, Bad Thought, enters the mind. She 
 insisted, and Tom obeyed, as he had always done. 
 Hurt? She was, just as Aron was when he had 
 opened the grip full of iron washers. And the 
 first guy- wire snapped from the anchor of har- 
 mony in Pleasant Valley. 
 
 Hurting her boy's feeling, and expecting her 
 not to resent it, was like putting red-hot coals on 
 her bare feet and asking her to stand still. It 
 could not be done. After having a good cry, she 
 decided to let her new neighbors alone; have ab- 
 solutely nothing to do with them ; and maybe they 
 would apologize for putting their child up to say- 
 ing such nasty things. For of course they had 
 told her to say those very words. No child of 
 that age could think of such mean things unless 
 she had been taught at home. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bear were positive on that sub- 
 ject. But they would wait and say nothing, as 
 there had never been a quarrel in Pleasant Val- 
 ley. They did not want to be called trouble- mak- 
 ers, so they agreed with each other to keep still, 
 which was proper, provided they had. But they 
 told poor, innocent little Tom to "get back" at 
 Betty and try to hurt her feelings, to play with 
 the other girls in school and ignore her entirely, 
 —36— 
 
THE WEAKNESS OP ANGEE 
 
 unless he got a chance to get even by saying 
 things about her being at the foot of the class, 
 etc. Each day when Tom came home from 
 school, he was asked about the Ash girl, and re- 
 minded about the chances he had to get even. 
 
 The Ash family were still wondering why 
 the Bears did not come over. They knew that 
 there could be nothing against themselves, and 
 Ash had done and said everything he could to 
 be neighborly ; still they refused to come. Well, he 
 would ride over and return Aron's first call. So 
 he rode up in front of Bear's house, where the 
 family were seated upon the porch, and said, 
 
 "Howdy." 
 
 The Bears nodded and Aron said coldly, 
 
 "Howdy." 
 
 Dave rode back home, sure now that some- 
 thing was wrong. What was it? There had never 
 been a word spoken in the Ash home against the 
 Bear family. 
 
 When Betty came home from school that 
 night, they asked her if she had ever heard the 
 Bear boy say anything. To this she answered, 
 
 "No." 
 
 Then they asked her about the time they 
 had told her to "hint around" to see if she could 
 find out anything from Tom. And Betty, remem- 
 bering that she had been so naughty with Tom, 
 thought that something had leaked out, and that 
 she was going to be punished for having acted 
 that way ; so she began to cry. 
 
 Between sobs, the Ash family learned from 
 —37— 
 
SILENT 
 
 Betty that the first time she had ever tried to talk 
 to Tom, the boy had run away and would not an- 
 swer her, adding that he would never speak to her 
 since. She just knew that Tom hated her and she 
 had never done anything wrong to him. 
 
 While she was "boo-hooing," she was watch- 
 ing out of the corner of her eye to see if her 
 crying and sobbing was going to offset what she 
 thought her parents had heard about the naughty 
 things she had said to poor Tom. But they did 
 not know; in fact, neither family knew and it 
 seemed impossible for them to learn. As ignor- 
 ance is necessary to create ambition, it must have 
 a breeding place. In this case the breeding place 
 was with the two families of grown-ups. The 
 children, with their unset, harmless and innocent 
 n'»inds, would have been trading chews of gum 
 the next day, if let alone. 
 
 When Betty was satisfied that her parents 
 knew nothing of the real facts and that all was 
 well, she began to mumble about what she was 
 going to do to Tom if he ever mistreated her 
 again. 
 
 "You are a chip off the old block," her father 
 told her, "And now that we know how the Bears 
 feel, we will give them just as good as they send. 
 From now on we will let them alone; but if they 
 start anything,' we'll help 'em finish it and maybe 
 go 'em one better for good luck." 
 
 Betty went right on playing and in a mo- 
 ment had forgotten everything that had happened. 
 But when she went to school the next day, she 
 —38— 
 
THE WEAKNESS OF ANGER 
 
 r(imembered. For her father had told her that 
 there were no Kentucky folks on earth who could 
 run it over Tennesseeans like that; and that 
 slie ought to spit right in that boy's face the next 
 time he looked at her. So she went to school with 
 full instructions. She kept busy trying to "get 
 even," for she had been told to "get even." Tom 
 avoided Betty as much as he could, but at last 
 he began to lose his good patience, and at times 
 V ould spit back at her. Every night, each child 
 reported at home. 
 
 The next Sunday everyone went to church. 
 Ic was such a treat to get together to sing and 
 pray, and to hear the preacher say such nice, 
 comforting things. When church was over and 
 the different families gathered together to ex- 
 change greetings, there was not the least sign 
 of an acknowledgment of acquaintance between 
 the Ash family and the Bear family. So here 
 let us say that the brooder is full, the heat ap- 
 plied, it being necessary only to await the hatch- 
 ing of each little chick of ignorance, to fly off in 
 haste to spread the spite and the hate that ig- 
 norance breeds. 
 
 Brooding over the trouble between the two 
 families, Aron Bear said: 
 
 "Susan, these people just moved up here to 
 show out. They got right in front of our house, 
 barely out of hearing distance, and just to make 
 c urs look worse, built a fine house with rock chim- 
 neys, a water well and everything fine. They feel 
 —39— 
 
SILENT 
 
 that they are better than we are because we have 
 no money to fix up our house." 
 
 Here he began to think of the money he had 
 been swindled out of, and the rest of the good 
 things he was going to say were forgotten. 
 
 Dave Ash, who had also been selling cattle to 
 the miners, had never been cheated as Aron had. 
 The "slickers" had never set their traps for him, 
 not that he was too smart for them. If you ever 
 get "stung," just remember that it takes a certain 
 amount of intelligence for a confidence man to 
 work on successfully. 
 
 The miners sent buyers to scour the country, 
 looking for fat cattle. Aron, being short of cash, 
 made them a good price and they bought a small 
 herd, soon coming back after more. 
 
 Dave Ash had driven his cattle into Pleas- 
 ant Valley from a distance, and some of them had 
 strayed back to where he had brought them from. 
 When he missed them he first went over to Aron's 
 side of the valley to look for them. Failing to 
 find them, he quietly told his friends that Aron 
 had taken some of his, Dave's cattle. Could it be 
 a mistake? They would all wait and see. So the 
 next time the buyer came back, they questioned 
 him about his reason for having bought all his 
 cattle from Aron. The buyer politely told them 
 that Mr. Bear had said that he had too many 
 cattle and had made the buyer an exceedingly low 
 price. Well, that settled it! Aron was selling 
 Dave's cattle! They were looking for something 
 and they had found it. Aron's particular friends 
 —40— 
 
■I 
 
 THE WEAKNESS OF ANGER 
 
 had never heard of the scandal; but all of Dave's 
 had, you bet they had. 
 
 Now some cattle buyers are very careless 
 people. When they are driving out a small herd 
 that they have bought, the rest of the cattle hat- 
 ing to see their former mates leaving, will some- 
 times follow the band along, and eventually get 
 into it. The careless buyer fails to notice that 
 he has in his drove some cattle that he did not 
 buy; or if he does notice it, he forgets about it 
 and the strays go along some way. This was hap- 
 pening regularly to Aron, but, as you will re- 
 member, Aron trusted too much, so he did not 
 miss the cattle until he noticed Dave riding on 
 his side of the valley. This made him decide to 
 count his cattle, and upon doing so, he found 
 Mbout as many cattle missing as Dave claimed he 
 had lost. So Aron told some of the old-timers 
 about having seen Dave riding on his, Aron's, 
 range and about his own missing cattle. These 
 people all agreed with Aron that no man had any 
 right to ride another's range without permission 
 or some good excuse. 
 
 Soon the neighbors took up the quarrel, and 
 where were frequent clashes like this : Aron's 
 friends would ask: 
 
 "What was Dave Ash ridin' Aron Bear's 
 range all the time for if he meant well?" 
 
 And Dave's friends would answer: 
 
 "He was trying to find his cattle, but he was 
 -^ too late. Somebody done sold 'em." 
 
 As all factions are, so this one was about 
 --41— 
 
SILENT 
 
 equal. Natural sympathy lies with the weaker 
 side at all times. As soon as one side gets strong- 
 er than the other, the more sympathetic people 
 go to the weak side, until again the sides are 
 even. And this factional fight, like all others, 
 had no definite starting point, the feeling being 
 based entirely upon hearsay and sympathy, which 
 naturally kept them even. By the sides keeping 
 even, factions never die out. Neither side could 
 come right out and swear that the other one had 
 done anything wrong or had violated any law, but 
 they thought so, — and thought was ruling, as 
 it always does, good or bad. New rumors would 
 come to life to make things worse. New chicks 
 would hatch from the brood of ignorance. 
 
 Betty and Tom were both growing up and 
 learning fast. Betty took keen delight in slight- 
 ing Tom, while Tom, in turn, would make fun of 
 the horse she rode. For Aron had the best horses 
 in California, since they were from the finest 
 stock in Kentucky. 
 
 Betty would say that she could not help their 
 not having good horses. To this Tom would re- 
 ply: 
 
 "No, and you can't help being so far behind 
 in your class either. You ain't got sense enough, 
 that's all. If your pa had sense enough, he could 
 have good horses, too." 
 
 The next time perhaps Betty would have the 
 best of the argument. Thus it went on from 
 year to year, going from bad to worse. The en- 
 tire community was equally divided, the children 
 —42— 
 
THE WEAKNESS OF ANGER 
 
 of course, taking the stand of their parents. The 
 children quarreled so much and so violently that 
 the good preacher was compelled to divide the 
 school, one faction on one side of the room, the 
 other faction on the opposite side. 
 
 This did not end the trouble, for there were 
 shoving and pushing between the factions while 
 they were coming in or going out of the build- 
 in^;, until it finally became necessary to close the 
 center door and have a separate entrance for each 
 faction to keep them apart. Finally an agreement 
 was made that Betty was to leave school thirty 
 minutes before Tom, as they quarreled so much 
 upon the way home. Besides, even if they did 
 not quarrel, their parents would not permit them 
 to ride together. 
 
 None of the children were doing well in 
 school. They looked bad and under-nourished, 
 wliich they were. The child must get part of his 
 n( urishment through his mind, and pleasant Con- 
 di dons make a child's mind healthly. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 «A MAN'S THE MAN HE IS TODAY." 
 
 NE day Aron took Susan out into the 
 lot back of the house and pointed to au 
 object lying upon the ground. It was a 
 newly-born colt. 
 "There," said Aron, "is the last and only de- 
 scendant of that famous old Kentucky thorough- 
 bred Charley. Only for the daring, strength and 
 good horse sense of old Charley, we would never 
 have gotten here. Do you remember, Susan, 
 what a big load we had? Salt, ammunition and 
 cloth enough to last twenty years, besides other 
 things. 
 
 You remember how old Charley used to 
 pull that load and how we used a fresh horse 
 every day beside him, as no other horse could 
 stand that work every day except old Charley. 
 And how we used to chain back old Charley's 
 end of the double-tree when we came to bad 
 ditches, muddy places and steep hills, so that he 
 could pull most of the load without pulling the 
 other horse back under the wheels? When we 
 had passed all signs of inhabitants, you remem- 
 ber how we used to save what grain we had to 
 feed the other horse that worked beside old 
 Charley. 
 
 Then some nights I would have to ride him 
 part of the night to fight off the wild animals 
 —44— 
 
"A MAN'S THE MAN HE IS TODAY" 
 
 that were trying to eat up our young cattle. He 
 wa;3 the only horse we had that was not afraid. 
 He would stand face to face with a panther that 
 was ready to spring. I could lay the gun right 
 do\m between his ears and shoot and he would 
 ne^^er move a muscle. We often wondered how 
 he could stand all the hardships he did and al- 
 ways seem willing to do more; and no one ever 
 toi ched old Charley with a whip. 
 
 "One thing that saved him, he was smart. 
 At night when I unhitched him, just as soon as 
 I s ot the bridle off he would grab for something 
 to eat. I would have to follow him to get the 
 rest of the harness off. He would eat grass, 
 leaves, bark, limbs, anything that came within 
 his reach. I have seen him bite off limbs as big 
 as my little finger and eat them right down. 
 Then just before daylight, he would lie down and 
 rest, his nose upon the ground, and take his little 
 nap. By daylight he would be fresh and ready 
 for the day. 
 
 "But poor old Charley had to leave us. Yet 
 he is not dead, Susan, for he lives in that colt. 
 There is no more difference between old Charley, 
 when he was bom thirty years ago, and that 
 youngster, than there is between two black-eyed 
 peas." 
 
 Just then the youngster, as they called him, 
 arose for the first time and stood there upon his 
 wobbly, bending legs with a sort of seasick move- 
 ment, he turned toward them, looking down at 
 
SILENT 
 
 the ground with about as much expression as a 
 toy lamb. 
 
 The youngster's mother, sired by old Charley, 
 walked over to the colt and with her nose di- 
 rected him to a good place to eat. There he 
 started his first meal, switched his tail for the 
 first time, sneezed and did several little things to 
 show that he was a real horse. His mother lookd 
 him over, nosed him about, licked his hair out 
 straight where it was turned the wrong way, and 
 then stood off with a look of approval, as if to say: 
 
 "You are the grandest thing that any moth- 
 er ever called son." 
 
 Just then Tom rode up to the house, and as 
 he alighted, Aron walked slowly over, took Tom by 
 the arm and slowly led him back to the lot where 
 the two mothers were waiting. Upon arriving 
 there, the father pointed to the colt and said : 
 
 "There he is, about one hour old. Tom, you 
 have heard me tell about the noble deeds of old 
 Charley. Well, there is old Charley bom over 
 again. I saw them both come into the world, 
 and there is no difference whatever in the two. 
 Take him, Tom, my boy, he is yours. Of course, 
 everything we have is yours, Tom, but this is a 
 personal gift beforehand; and it may be the 
 greatest gift of all, for a good horse, my boy, is 
 the most true and everlasting friend of man." 
 
 A few days later the postmaster, who was on 
 Aron's side in the neighborhood quarrel, came out 
 to tell Aron that he knew of a ranch hand in case 
 Aron still wanted one. Aron decided that, as 
 
"A MAN'S THE MAN HE IS TODAY" 
 
 Tom was going to school and he would have to 
 keep a sharp look out to protect his cattle from 
 now on, he would go down to the store and see 
 the man. 
 
 Riding back with the postmaster, the lat- 
 ter said that the man had come there and asked 
 for work. 
 
 "And," said the postmaster, "he nearly looked 
 through me, so I says to myself. That fellow is 
 honest.' Then I thought about you needin' some- 
 body, and came to get you." 
 
 As they rode along Aron asked about the 
 neighbors and especially about the preacher. 
 Speaking of him, the postmaster said: 
 
 "Say, Aron, that preacher is the best man I 
 ever saw. Wife just like him." 
 
 They pulled up to the store and went in to 
 interview the man who wanted work. Aron ex- 
 plained that the wages would be fair; that the 
 man would have a good home ; that he wanted the 
 man who worked for him to be one of the fam- 
 ily; and that they would treat him as such. Ev- 
 erything suited the new man and they started for 
 Aron's home. 
 
 On the way back to Aron's the new hand 
 heard the story of the factional difficulties. Aron 
 related everything that had happened so far and 
 all that he expected might happen in the future. 
 When Mr. Bear was telling his story he noticed 
 the man's face light up with a peculiar bright- 
 ness, he noticed his eyes were staring straight 
 ahead with a hard and stem determination, while 
 —47— 
 
SILENT 
 
 his face was making a positive effort to smile 
 pleasantly. Aron did not understand this double 
 expression and wondered what it could mean, as 
 he had never seen a look of that kind on a man's 
 face before, but Aron Bear was not the man who 
 would interest himself in the past or future of 
 anyone so he immediately discarded all thought 
 as to the cause of that peculiar look on the man's 
 face. And as Aron's story was finished the two 
 men rode on in silence. 
 
 After a few days at the Bear home, he was 
 satisfied. He liked Mr. Bear better than any man 
 he had met for a long time, for Aron asked few 
 questions. He asked Aron if he wanted to know 
 his name and an account of his past. Aron an- 
 swered him by saying: 
 
 "Bygones and futures are nothing to me. 
 A man is the man he is today. The has-beens and 
 will-be's are histories and speculations." 
 
 Every night, when supper was ready, Mrs. 
 Bear would tell Aron to bring "that silent gentle- 
 man" in to supper. From that he took the name 
 of "Silent." In a short time they were well ac- 
 quainted with the "silent gentleman," and they in 
 turn thought a great deal of him. After supper 
 he would never sit down until he had helped Mrs. 
 Bear finish her kitchen work. 
 
 Tom, almost a young man now, took the 
 new hand out into the back lot as soon as pos- 
 sible, showed him the colt, and explained that 
 this colt, which belonged to him, was a direct 
 —48— 
 
THE LIGHTS IN THE VALLEY 
 
 decendant from one of the best breeds of horses 
 that Kentucky had ever raised. 
 
 "What do you think of him, Mr. Silent 
 Gentleman/* asked Tom. 
 
 Tom had added "'Gentleman" because he 
 \^ anted a good report. By that time the colt had 
 come to Tom and stuck his head under Tom's arm, 
 and they were both looking at the Silent Gentle- 
 man for an answer. The latter looked the colt 
 over carefully and said: 
 
 "That is the most perfect specimen of a horse 
 that I have ever seen." 
 
 And by these words, which were true. Silent 
 had made another dear friend in the Bear fam- 
 ily. 
 
 Tom showed the colt off in every way he 
 could, got on his back, crawled between his legs, 
 and shook hands with him every few minutes. 
 The colt was just as anxious to show off as Tom 
 was to show him, until the Silent Gentleman de- 
 cided that it was time to go back to the house. 
 But Tom was not ready. He wanted to know 
 what the Silent Gentleman would call the colt if 
 he were the owner. The silent one named over all 
 the horse names he could think of, but none suited 
 Tom. The colt and Tom were still making much 
 over each other when Silent asked, 
 
 "What sires, or forefathers, did this colt 
 have that were worthy of their names? How 
 many of them left good records?" 
 
 "Well," answered Tom, "one of them, his 
 grandad, could almost talk, my father says, and 
 
SILENT 
 
 only for him we never would have reached Cali- 
 fornia." 
 
 "What was that horse's name?" asked Silent. 
 
 "Charley," replied Tom. 
 
 Silent thought for some minutes before he 
 answered. Then he said that he had never in all 
 his life known a horse by that name that was 
 not a good horse. 
 
 Leaving Silent, Tom, full of pep, ran to the 
 house and told his parents about the name, ask- 
 ing their opinion. 
 
 They told Tom that "Charley" had been 
 their choice of names from the first; but that 
 they had said nothing about it until he suggested 
 it, as they had wanted him to name his own colt. 
 
 Tom ran out again, passing Silent, who was 
 coming back to the house, as if he did not see 
 him. Tom's eyes were centered upon another 
 pair of eyes in the back lot. There they met, the 
 boy and the colt. After their usual exchange of 
 hugging and kissing and shaking hands, Tom 
 said : 
 
 "Mister, your name is Charley ! Charley ! Do 
 you hear? When I call, ^Charley', I want you to 
 look around and answer." 
 
 Tom then stepped off and called : 
 
 "Charley!" 
 
 The colt was always looking toward Tom, 
 for in his coltish mind, Tom was the greatest and 
 smartest of all human beings. And he was very 
 anxious to learn all he could from Tom, so he 
 looked and listened while Tom called, "Charley," 
 —50— 
 
THE WORM OF BAD THOUGHT 
 
 After hearing the name several times, the 
 colt pricked his ears up straight. Tom rushed 
 to him, they had a long caressing bout with each 
 ♦)ther, and the colt began to understand that there 
 was something to the name Tom was calling. 
 
 The next time Tom called, **Charley!" the 
 eolt again pricked up his ears and again Tom ran 
 to him and hugged him, which was what the colt 
 liked. In a short time, when the boy called 
 **Charley!" the colt came to meet him to get his 
 usual caresses, until finally it would be a race 
 from one to the other when Tom would get off a 
 distance and call. 
 
 On they went until Tom would walk clear 
 across the lot and call, "Charley !" and here they 
 would come on the run to meet each other. Even- 
 tually, Tom would stand still and call, and the colt 
 would run as hard as he could go to the boy. So the 
 teaching went on until it grew dark. 
 
 Then Mrs. Bear called: 
 
 "It's time to go to bed. Tommy." 
 
 After the long, hard big hug, such as they 
 had every night at bedtime, the two almost in- 
 separable pals parted for the night. 
 
 The family did not go right to bed, for when 
 Tom came in he related everything that had 
 happened in the lot between him and the colt. 
 Every single step was rehearsed, and to the de- 
 light of the parents, the colt was named, and he 
 knew his name was "Charley." ^ 
 
 —61— 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE WORM OF BAD THOUGHT. 
 
 HEN Dave Ash found out that Silent 
 
 was at Mr. Bear's house, he became very 
 
 suspicious. Here is another hole through 
 
 which the worm, "Bad Thought," enters 
 
 he mind — Suspicion. And another chick flew 
 
 off the brood of ignorance. 
 
 Dave told his frends that this new man was 
 a sneaky-looking fellow who never said nothin', 
 but was just lookin' for an excuse to shoot some 
 one. 
 
 "And you know," said Dave, "that ain't goin' 
 to be none of the Bears or their kind! Say, he's 
 a-leamin' that boy to shoot with both hands, an' 
 no tellin' what else he's teachin' that triflin' boy. 
 He's as mean as they make 'em without the teach- 
 in' of a desperado. Wonder where that feller 
 come from ?" 
 
 No one seemed to know, but it was gener- 
 ally understood that he was a bad man, hired by 
 Aron to do what meanness he could to Dave Ash 
 and his friends. 
 
 When Dave went home after his usual round 
 of gossip about the Bears, he called his family 
 to his side and said : 
 
 "Now while I'm alivin' and able to talk, I 
 want both of you to understand that, if anything 
 —52— 
 
THE WORM OP BAD THOUGHT 
 
 happens to me, I want you both to fight the Bears 
 as long as you live. And from now on, do all the 
 mean things to *em that you can. Talk about 
 *em, hate 'em and get everybody else you can to 
 hate 'em." 
 
 Then he said, as if talking to himself: 
 
 "If I was dead and my daughter or my wife 
 was to speak to a Bear, I'd rise in my grave and 
 my spirit would forever haunt 'em. I am going 
 out of this world with the satisfaction on my 
 mind that none of mine ever spoke to a Bear." 
 
 Then in a hoarse whisper he added: 
 
 "By God, I'd kill 'em!" 
 
 In the Ash family, it had long been im- 
 pressed upon the mother and the daughter that 
 their one duty was to hate and fight the Bear 
 family. This just suited Mrs. Ash, and she never 
 failed to impress upon newcomers that Mrs. Bear 
 was the most "despisable" woman that ever lived, 
 and that she went to church on Sunday evenings 
 only to make slighting remarks about the neigh- 
 bors. Said Mrs. Ash: 
 
 "She never pays attention to what the 
 preacher says — ^just looks around for something to 
 make trouble over." 
 
 And the mother and daughter did just as 
 they were told. 
 
 Tom was growing into manhood very fast, 
 and the colt Charley was growing up too. Silent 
 and Tom were great pals and Tom was learning 
 to shoot right- and left-handed. The grizzlies 
 were coming down from the mountains and tak- 
 —53— 
 
SILENT 
 
 ing the cattle. Silent knew that every year there 
 would be more of them to battle with; so he be- 
 gan training Tom to shoot. 
 
 The man who puts a grizzly out of business 
 without getting into real danger, must shoot fast, 
 straight and from many angles. For the first, 
 shot that Mr. Grizzly hears or feels, he is after 
 you right now. It takes a horse to outrun a 
 wounded grizzly. So the only way to finish him 
 is to turn in the saddle, while the horse is running 
 from him, face the grizzly and shoot until he is 
 done for. Silent had told Tom all this and had 
 promised that, when Tom was a man and Charley 
 a big horse, he would take them to the mountains 
 to fight the grizzly bears. 
 
 Mr. Bear was not so much interested in what 
 Tom was doing as he was in what the Ash family 
 were saying. Every word that he heard he would 
 repeat to Susan and Tom. The boy was told every 
 day that he must speak about them to others, but, 
 on penalty of death, he must not speak to nor 
 look at one of the "dirty-mouthed things." Again 
 and again Tom was reminded of the "nasty lies" 
 Mrs. Ash had spread about his mother. 
 
 And poor, dear old Susan Bear, the upright 
 standard of patience, tumbled over. And the other 
 guy-wire snapped from the anchor of harmony. 
 
 "When I see that nasty-talking old thing 
 next Sunday," said Susan, "I am going to scratch 
 her dirty old face !" 
 
 "Don't you do it," said Aron commandingly. 
 
 Then he called their son and told them this : 
 —54— 
 
"A MAN'S THE MAN HE IS TODAY" 
 
 "Never let your hands touch such dirty filth. 
 I would rather die right here than see one of my 
 own touch the body of such a vile thing as one of 
 the Ash family." 
 
 The Ashes spread the story that the Bears 
 v/ere so quarrelsome back East, that they had to 
 leave. And the Bears said that the Ashes were 
 afraid to tell why they had left, and the reason 
 v/as worse than that. Mrs. Bear was into the 
 fray now and she said all she could to hurt the 
 Ashes. The holes were all open — spite, hate, sus- 
 picion, inquisitiveness, the worms, Bad Thoughts, 
 were entering the mind from four sides. And the 
 brood of ignorance was hatching evil thoughts, 
 which were spreading spite and hate. Would it 
 be possible to check them ? 
 
 No, it had gone too far. Only a miracle could 
 happen to stop the trouble, and in Aron's worried 
 mind, there were no miracles. No, nothing could 
 check it. So Aron decided to move from the old 
 liome that was so dear to them all and find a new 
 one. He could not go west because there was 
 nothing but mountains and mining camps in that 
 direction, so he decided to go east to look for a 
 new home. 
 
 By this time, Silent was taking care of ev- 
 erything. There could be no stronger friendship 
 ;han that which he had shown, so that it was safe 
 bO leave him to look after the place. Aron packed 
 one horse, rode another and started out to hunt 
 for a new home. He did not tell the family his 
 —55— 
 
SILENT 
 
 plans, but just said that he was hunting for some- 
 thing. 
 
 The first day he rode about thirty-five miles 
 and made camp in a broad valley, which looked to 
 be a continuation of Pleasant Valley. There were 
 sharp and high points in the mountains on each 
 side of the valley. That night he sat upon his 
 blankets with nothing to do but watch the moun- 
 tain tops. It was getting late, but he was not 
 sleepy, so he watched and dreamed, when sud- 
 denly, like a comet, something appeared. First 
 there was a greenish hue, then a red, and it was 
 all over. Then it would appear again. What could 
 it be? He watched it the third time. It must 
 be somebody, as it looked like some person wav- 
 ing a small light in a semi-circle over his head. 
 But what for? As he was thinking this over, 
 another flash, just like the others came from an- 
 other mountain-top opposite and then all was dark 
 and still. 
 
 There he sat upon his blankets between two 
 somethings or nothings. What was it? Was 
 there to be no peace on earth hereafter? 
 
 Next morning he went on farther, but as he 
 traveled on, everything looked barren and dry. 
 After a week's journey, he decided that the only 
 place that he had found fit to live in was the place 
 where he had seen the mysterious lights waving. 
 
 "Well," thought Aron, "maybe it was noth- 
 ing after all." 
 
 As Aron Bear feared nothing, he determined 
 to go back and try to find out what the lights 
 —56— 
 
 t 
 
THE WORM OF BAD THOUGHT 
 
 meant. So he returned and camped out at the 
 same place. At the same time that night, the 
 same thing happened. He said to himself, "I am 
 going to see." Early the next morning, he went 
 up to the mountain-top where he had seen the 
 lights waving, but there was no sign of anyone. 
 
 He went to the opposite mountain-top, but 
 still found no sign. That night he again camped 
 upon the same spot and the same thing hap- 
 pened, the lights came on and went out as before. 
 Si ill he watched, and suddenly on the high ridge 
 coming down from the mountain-top, he saw, be- 
 tween him and the blue sky, the form of a horse 
 with a rider on it. Now he believed that he was 
 unintentionally interfering with some spirit body 
 or meeting, and that one of the members v/as 
 coming down to order him to move on. 
 
 "Well," said Aron to himself, "I will be here 
 when that gentleman or whatever it is, gets here. 
 He will not have to run to catch me, I promise 
 him that." 
 
 And he waited patiently for the meeting that 
 did not come. 
 
 In a short time he noticed the same thing 
 a^^ain, the outlines of another man on a horse 
 on that high ridge, coming slowly toward him. He 
 waited again. Everything was still, but he could 
 hc^ar no sound from the rider, who disappeared 
 in the same place as the first. Again the form of 
 a mounted rider appeared, again Aron waited and 
 watched, and again rider and horse disappeared in 
 the same place and in the same way. 
 —57— 
 
SILENT 
 
 Mr. Aron Bear was now worked up as he 
 had never been before. It seemed that the only- 
 place left for him to settle in was haunted by- 
 ghostly figures and peculiarly colored lights that 
 seemed to wave a warning for him to leave. Could 
 it be possible that the Ashes had brought a curse 
 upon him? It must be, for he knew that the 
 forms he saw could not be men. It would be im- 
 possible to think that three men would ride in 
 such a manner at that time of night — so slowly 
 and so far apart, with only the blue sky to reflect 
 their outlines to him, and then all disappear in 
 the same place. No, it was either imagination or 
 ghosts. Anyway he would go up in the morning 
 and see. 
 
 When he arrived on the ridge in the morn- 
 ing, there were the tracks of the three horses, all 
 diflterent, and all freshly shod. He followed the 
 tracks to where he thought the horses had dis- 
 appeared the night before, and there the tracks 
 vanished with no further trace to be found. 
 
 Aron was bewildered; he was afraid to trust 
 himself; he knew that constant quarreling for 
 years had weakened him in mind and body ; and he 
 feared that he had begun to break down. He 
 would go back home and tell his friends. If they 
 thought enough of it they could investigate. 
 
 When Aron reached home he told his friends 
 about what he had seen, and they were very much 
 interested. They wanted to see the thing for 
 themselves; so they made up a large party and 
 went to the place to which Aron had directed 
 —58— 
 
THE WORM OF BAD THOUGHT 
 
 them. They found it easily and stayed there for 
 several days and nights, but nothing happened, 
 not a sound, not a light. It soon became mon- 
 otonous and they all returned home, mumbling to 
 themselves, with about the same opinion of Aron 
 that he had of himself. 
 
 Aron was more disturbed than ever when his 
 friends told him that there was nothing there, 
 for he was very anxious for them to see the same 
 thing that he had seen. Thinking it over, he said 
 to himself: 
 
 "What must my nez-chbors think of me for 
 having such illusions, and for having caused them 
 to make the useless trip I have?" 
 
 He wanted to talk about it, as it would not 
 lea\e his mind. He decided that the one person 
 he could talk to, who would not repeat what he 
 said, was Silent. He also knew that the man was 
 true and trustworthy and would talk to him about 
 it. He started to unravel his mysterious and 
 ghostly yarn to Silent, who listened very intently, 
 as was his custom. But Mr. Bear talked so much 
 about it that Silent, like the neighbors, began to 
 wonder if it was not Aron's mind instead of little 
 lights and ghostly forms, riding slowly and sil- 
 ently. 
 
 Silent, in all his life, had never had a friend 
 of whom he thought as much as he did of Aron 
 Bear. Could it be that the poor man was losing 
 his mind on account of the continued trouble be- 
 tween him and Dave Ash ? He knew it was pos- 
 sibla, as everyone should know. But Silent was a 
 —59— 
 
SILENT 
 
 deep thinker ; he thought of many different things ; 
 and finally he decided to outfit himself well, go to 
 the place where Mr. Bear has seen the myster- 
 ious happenings, and stay there long enough to 
 find out if there was anything there to see. To 
 find out what it was or to remain there forever 
 was the promise of a Man to himself. If there was 
 nothing to be found, then he would come back and 
 tell Mr. Bear that he had seen the same thing 
 himself, and that the ghost had warned him to go. 
 Then they could all leave and find another place, 
 where peace and quiet would bring Mr. Bear's 
 mind back to him. 
 
 The very next morning Silent left, prepared 
 to stay for the finish, if there was to be such a 
 thing as a finish to it. After he had been gone 
 for two days, Mr. Bear began to get nervous. He 
 talked with Susan and Tom, and they all prayed 
 for Silent and for his success. Aron would say, 
 night after night: 
 
 "I do hope he will stay to find out what it is 
 and all about it." 
 
 Then Tom spoke up and said: 
 
 "Stay? Why father, don't you know Silent? 
 He finishes everything that he starts. Whenever 
 he starts anything he can't finish, that will be the 
 end of Silent. One time. Father, when he was 
 showing me how to kill a grizzly and our horses 
 were running away from the bear. Silent was 
 turned backward in his saddle, shooting, when he 
 ran out of cartridges and had no more in his belt. 
 He jumped off his horse, pulled out his pocket- 
 —60— 
 
THE WORM OF BAD THOUGHT 
 
 knife, and waited for that grizzly to come on. It 
 would have been a fight to the death only that the 
 grizzly dropped dead before it reached Silent, He 
 had shot that bear more than twenty times, and 
 he was determined to finish the job or die in the 
 attempt. I didn't say anything to you at the time, 
 Fa :her, as he had asked me not to. There is one 
 thing Silent hates, and that is for someone to brag 
 about him or praise what he has done." 
 
 —61— 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE LIGHTS IN THE VALLEY. 
 
 I WO weeks had passed and Aron was dis- 
 heartened. He began to fear that if Si- 
 lent had found anything, he had met 
 
 with his master. One morning, shortly 
 
 before daylight, someone outside shouted: 
 
 "Hello, Mr. Bear!" 
 
 Aron arose and asked: 
 
 "Who's there?" 
 
 And as he recognized Silent's voice, he said : 
 
 "Well, God bless you! Come in and tell us 
 all about it, for I know you have done what you 
 went to do." 
 
 "Yes," said Silent, "I did. Wake up the 
 missus and the boy. I want them to hear." 
 
 When the mother and Tom and Aron, all in 
 night clothes, signified that they were ready to 
 hear. Silent began his wonderful story. He told 
 them he had gone to the identical spot to which 
 Aron had directed him, and, at the same time at 
 night, he had seen the same lights and also the 
 answering light on the other side of the valley. 
 He sat there until daylight, but did not see nor 
 hear anything more. No horses nor forms had 
 appeared that night. 
 
 He slept the next day, and at the same time 
 the next night, the lights appeared. He watched 
 night after night until the horses did appear. But 
 —62— 
 
THE LIGHTS IN THE VALLEY 
 
 only one horse, with the outlines of a rider, walked 
 slowly and quietly down the high ridge. He fol- 
 lowed this horse to the end of the ridge, where it 
 vanished as if swallowed by the earth. He waited 
 night after night until other horses appeared up- 
 on the ridge, and he followed them closer each time 
 to the place where they vanished. At last he dis- 
 covered they were going into a cave in the moun- 
 tain. Then he crawled upon his belly like a snake 
 every night to get closer to the entrance to that 
 cave. Night after night he crawled closer and 
 closer until he knew every loose rock or stick that 
 would make a noise if he touched it. He was 
 sure that it meant failure if he was discovered; 
 and failure meant — death! He was sure that 
 there were no such things as ghosts, so these 
 must be men; and they must be desperate men 
 and many of them while he was only one. Yet he 
 must find out about them in some way. 
 
 Throwing all care aside, he crawled closer and 
 listened, and as he listened, it occurred to him 
 that if these men had a dog, he was doomed. Men 
 who lived in caves like this were going to kill 
 whatever molested them. So after resting a short 
 time, he would lift his body with his hands, which 
 were covered with sacks to keep from making 
 tracks, and boost himself a little closer to the 
 cave. 
 
 He could not crawl now, as that might make 
 a noise, and noise meant death. Once more he 
 boosted his body with his hands, only to find that 
 he was not near enough to hear. 
 
 —63— 
 
SILENT 
 
 Again he raised himself, not daring to breathe 
 for fear of making that fatal noise; he boosted 
 himself once more and listened. Now he could hear 
 and he did not want to breathe when he heard, 
 as the dreadful realization of his mission was 
 learned. Then he crawled back to his camp and 
 prepared for the following night which would 
 be his last on earth, for all that he knew. 
 
 The next night at the appointed time, he 
 was prepared. Secreting himself on a blind trail 
 which led from the mouth of the cave to the sharp 
 mountain- top, where the first lights had been seen, 
 he lay crouching and waiting. There was no sound, 
 but he watched and listened for the man he knew 
 was coming along that trail. Soon a shadow ap- 
 peared, and then the form of a man. Slowly and 
 noiselessly the man came and when he was right 
 upon and above Silent, the latter rose, with a shin- 
 ing gun in each hand, and commanded in a whis- 
 per: 
 
 "Stick 'em up!" 
 
 The man put up his hands and without much 
 alarm asked : 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 Continuing his story, Silent said that he ex- 
 plained that he had pulled off a robbery and was 
 getting away; and that if the person he was ac- 
 costing was not an officer, there would be no harm 
 done ; but the fellow would have to show him. To 
 this the man replied: 
 
 "Follow me and I will show you." 
 
 "I followed him to the top of the mountain," 
 
THE LIGHTS IN THE VALLEY 
 
 continued Silent, "and the fellow explained that 
 he was one of the lookouts for Headquarters. He 
 seemed to be quite anxious to answer any ques- 
 tion, and I had begun to think how easy it had 
 been to capture one of the lookouts, pretend to 
 him that I was an outlaw, and get all the infor- 
 mation we needed, as all the time the fellow was 
 signaling to the other side that the coast was 
 clear. 
 
 I was sitting on a rock thinking of the best 
 way to get rid of my captive and had dropped my 
 eyes for an instant. When I looked up, the muzzle 
 of the fellow's 45-Colt was almost touching my 
 head. I dropped my guns to the ground, but the 
 outlaw said : 
 
 " Tick 'em up and put 'em on. You're harm- 
 less now, and will be for a long time to come, 
 partner. We'll learn you to lay around in the 
 grass and watch us for two weeks. I'll take you 
 to Headquarters and let you tell the chief about 
 it." ' 
 
 "At that he motioned me down the hill to- 
 ward the mouth of the cave. I was so anxious to 
 see the inside of that den that I was satisfied to 
 take the punishment for the chance to investi- 
 gate; and I kept telling myself, as he marched 
 me down, that I would come out all right some 
 way. 
 
 "As we entered the cave the only thing we 
 
 could see was a cup of grease, with a twisted piece 
 
 of rag burning in it, the rag acting as a wick and 
 
 sticking out of the top. This furnished what light 
 
 —65— 
 
SILENT 
 
 there was in the cave. There seemed to be the 
 crouching form of a man in every nook and cor- 
 ner of the den, which was large, but very dirty 
 and without ventilation; and the stench was al- 
 most suffocating. 
 
 "They stood me up in front of the candle 
 and the Big Chief appeared from another part of 
 the cave. He was all bedecked with spurs, chaps, 
 belts, buckles, pistols, and a Mexican hat. 'Good 
 night,' said I to myself, *He will be compelled to 
 shoot me to uphold his dignity.' 
 
 "As he faced me, he looked squarely into my 
 eyes, and I looked just as squarely into his. Then 
 he spoke in Mexican, which I understand well, and 
 commanded the others to disarm me, saying that 
 I was not scared and might shoot. Before I had 
 time to think, I was covered and disarmed. Then 
 he smiled and said in Mexican : 
 
 " *So you claim to be a robber.* 
 
 "I looked just as blank as possible and pre- 
 tended not to understand. He said that he could 
 not talk Englisn, ana mat if I could not talk 
 Mexican, we would have a hard tiip-. ^ettinp" 
 along. I could see that he v/as very anxious to 
 convmce himself whether I could talk Mexican or 
 not and I acted as much as I could like a person 
 who was trying to understand but could not. 
 
 "Then he tried me on some of the most com- 
 mon Mexican words, but still I pretended not to 
 understand. Then, as if he was disgusted, he told 
 his comrades in Mexican that I was to be shot at 
 
THE LIGHTS IN THE VALLEY 
 
 sunrise, and asked if anyone of them wanted the 
 job. No one answered. 
 
 " Well/ he says, 'that leaves it to me, and 
 as I don't get up that early, I will do it now,' and 
 drew his gun. 
 
 "I could see that he had been watching me 
 very closely while he was making this talk. When 
 he had finished with the talk and the gun play, 
 he had fully decided that I could not speak his 
 language. Then he began to speak good English 
 to me, and after talking considerable, he said: 
 
 " *By the way, I don't think you talk English, 
 either.' 
 
 "I told him I would answer any questions he 
 wished to ask. So he asked them all at one time 
 and I answered them all at once. 
 
 "I told him that I had robbed a mining camp 
 about forty miles from there, and that, as the of- 
 ficers and citizens were crowding me very hard, 
 I was thinking of abandoning my horse and hiding. 
 As the gold was too heavy to carry on foot, I had 
 thrown it onto the bottom of a creek and had 
 marked the spot. After the weight was off my 
 horse I had outrun them and got away. I had 
 waited several days and went back for the gold, 
 but had found a patrol watching on the creek. 
 Then I had decided to get a safe distance away and 
 wait, hoping that, while I was waiting, I might 
 find a pal who would go with me to hold up that 
 patrol long enough for me to get the gold. 
 
 **The Chief said in Mexican that the story 
 sounded good to him, and some of the others said 
 —67— 
 
SILENT 
 
 that it sounded 0. K. to them, too. The chief 
 then instructed his men to place a strong guard 
 outside without letting me know it, telling them 
 also to give me my guns and a good place to sleep 
 near the mouth of the cave. 
 
 " *Give him plenty of chance to run,' he said, 
 *and by morning we will find out.' 
 
 "I made no attempt to escape, but listened 
 all that night, as some of them were up and talk- 
 ing Mexican nearly all night. 
 
 "The next morning the chief asked me how 
 I had rested. I told him that it was the first good 
 sleep I had had since I had pulled the job. That 
 seemed to please him, so I told him that if he 
 would send one good man with me to get the 
 gold, I would cut it in two with them. I also told 
 him that when we had gotten the gold, if he would 
 let me have five men. I could make the biggest 
 haul that had ever been made in California. I 
 had everything spotted, I told him, that the stuff 
 was just spoiling for somebody to come and get 
 it, laying right out in plain sight, unguarded ; and 
 that it seemed almost impossible for people to be 
 so careless with money. The Big Chief grew very 
 serious and said: 
 
 " That is just what made me a robber. Leav- 
 ing money out in sight unguarded is just what 
 makes robbers. Such careless people ought to lose 
 it and they will lose it.' 
 
 "Then his manner changed to a hard peculiar- 
 ity and he asked me when I wanted to start. 
 
 " Tonight,' I answered, *so as to get there by 
 —68— 
 
THE LIGHTS IN THE VALLEY 
 
 daylight tomorrow morning. I don't think I could 
 locate the water hole at night/ 
 
 "Just to keep down suspicion I told him I 
 must have a good man. He answered : 
 
 " *Don't worry. I am going to send my part- 
 ner, the best in the world, and I want to caution 
 you that he is suspicious of you, and doesn't be- 
 lieve your story altogether. Now if everything is 
 as you say, it will be all right ; but if not, look out, 
 for he is lightning itself. He is something like 
 you. He don't talk much, but he hears and sees a 
 heap.' 
 
 "That night at dark we started. I found the 
 partner to be a tough, sullen, suspicious and dead- 
 shot hombre. All the time I had planned on being 
 free when I got the privilege of leaving with one 
 man. But the partner took full command of this 
 expedition. He ordered me to ride in front and 
 lead the way, but not to look back. And there he 
 kept me just a little bit ahead. 
 
 "I led the way right over the mountain to 
 the south, a direction I had never been before, 
 and into a country I knew nothing about whatever. 
 After riding several miles south, I knew that if I 
 did not lose my keeper soon, I would be lost my- 
 self, it was so very dark. 
 
 "First I began to call his attention to differ- 
 ent objects along the way, pointing to that rock 
 or that large tree, and telling him I remembered 
 passing them when I was making my getaway. 
 But he fooled me right back by saying that he saw 
 them, too, when there was no man on earth who 
 —69— 
 
SILENT 
 
 could have seen his hand in front of him. It was 
 black dark. Even the horses could not see, but I 
 kept right on showing him different objects, and 
 he kept right on saying that he saw them. 
 
 "I knew that he was lying, but I did not be- 
 fieve he was sure that I was. I asked him if he 
 wanted to take my guns until we got to the 
 creek. But he answered no, and said that whether 
 I was right or wrong, he was willing to take his 
 chances with any man. I told him I was glad he 
 was that kind of a man, and that I hoped he 
 would head the next expedition when we made 
 the big haul. I also told him that he was the 
 first man I had ever seen who could see as good as 
 I could on a dark night, and that doctors had ex- 
 amined my eyes to see if they could find out why 
 I had such unusual sight at night. 
 
 "At times I would crowd his horse over 
 and at the same time tell him to look out for that 
 pile of rocks, that snag, or some other thing. And 
 as horses seem to have some way of scenting dan- 
 ger, whenever I felt my horse beginning to turn 
 at times, then is when I would warn him to look 
 out for some imaginary object I would name. 
 Finally he admitted that I had better eyesight 
 than he had. He complimented me on the same 
 and said that it was a good thing to have in our 
 business. From this I could see that I had gained 
 a point, although he was just as suspicious as ever. 
 
 "We had ridden quite a distance without 
 speaking, when I stopped quickly. 
 
 " What's the matter?' he asked. 
 —70— 
 
THE LIGHTS IN THE VALLEY 
 
 "I answered in a whisper, 'Don't you hear 
 voices T 
 
 "He said that he did not, but I kept saying 
 that I did. Every little while I would stop quickly, 
 when he would always ask aloud, in the black still- 
 ness : 
 
 "What's the matter?' 
 
 "To this I would always answer in the same 
 whisper that I heard voices and would caution him 
 to listen. So I kept on constantly reminding him 
 that I heard voices until the echo of his own voice 
 or the transference of thought or something of 
 that kind made him imagine that he too heard 
 voices ; and he said that he did hear them. 
 
 "I then told him that the voices were ahead 
 of us and began to ride faster, but suddenly I 
 dropped back and whispered : 
 
 "There they are, two of them. I am going 
 to overtake them and find out who they are and 
 where they are going." 
 
 "With the last whisper I was going, first in 
 a trot, then in a dead run, which I kept up for 
 some distance. Then I thought: 
 
 " There is no other fool like me to take such 
 a chance, running full speed where even a horse 
 can not see.' 
 
 "And I turned abruptly to the right. In a 
 few jumps my horse stumbled but did not fall, 
 I did not say that, at this time, we were on the 
 edge of a canyon a hundred feet deep, but I be- 
 lieved it at this moment, and again the thought 
 —71— 
 
SILENT 
 
 of the fool that I was came to my mind. Then I 
 apologized to myself, saying : 
 
 " *No, I am not the only fool/ 
 
 "For at that instant the partner was passing 
 me at full speed, whipping and slashing blindly — 
 He went on as far as I could hear." 
 
 "What a ride, and what a relief!" exclaimed 
 Aron, as he sank back in his chair. 
 
 Tom's eyes were clear out of their sockets 
 and stayed there. 
 
 "Please go on," said Mrs. Bear. 
 
 "Well," said Silent, "all there is to it, I got 
 over the range of mountains into this valley, and 
 rode and walked home, and here I am." 
 
 "But wait," said Aron, "What about them 
 wavin' lights, and them ghostly-lookin' figures 
 ridin' so slowly and so far apart?" 
 
 "Oh, I had forgotten that," said Silent. "The 
 night I stayed in the cave there seemed to be 
 some new robbers, or robber visitors, and the chief 
 was explaining to them in Mexican that there are 
 two look-outs, one on each of the two high points, 
 who survey every inch of the country. If the 
 first lookout decides that the coast is clear and 
 no posse in sight, at nine-thirty he lights one 
 large sulphur match and waves it in a semi-circle 
 over his head three times, repeating the perfor- 
 mance three times. Then if the other lookout 
 opposite decides that all is well, he lights one 
 match and waves it in a half -circle over his head. 
 But if there are a number of people in the valley, 
 no signal will be given. That was the reason your 
 
 —72— 
 
THE LIGHTS IN THE VALLEY 
 
 neighbors saw no lights. If the second lookout 
 waves two matches, it is a signal that something 
 is wrong. When the robbers who have been out 
 on a raid and are hunting cover come to the 
 ridge, they must all stay in the same place until 
 n ine-thirty o'clock. Then, if the signals are right, 
 they must ride slowly and one hundred yards 
 aoart; otherwise they cannot enter the canyon 
 that conceals this Devils* Den, as they call it. 
 W^hen the posse left here, you see, the lookouts 
 did not signal and there were no lights shown." 
 
 Aron jumped up and exclaimed, "I am so 
 happy to know that!" 
 
 His wife and son said the same, and the three 
 joined hands and danced a ring around Silent, 
 Mrs. Bear singing, "I'm so happy ! I'm so happy !" 
 
 "Pa," said Tom, didn't I tell you he would 
 stay for the finish ?" 
 
 Just them Mrs. Bear remarked that she 
 would just as soon have the bandits for neighbors 
 as the Ashes. 
 
 At these words all their glee stopped. No 
 more singing, no more dancing. It brought them 
 all back instantly to the awful condition of hate 
 and horror they were living in. 
 
 —73— 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 GREAT OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS. 
 
 N order to avoid being recognized by 
 any members of the band from the 
 "Devils' Den" who might stray into 
 Pleasant Valley, Silent decided to hide 
 out for a few days. He changed horses and sad- 
 dles, shaved, cut his hair, and disguised himself 
 in every way possible, feeling certain that the 
 bandits would make some effort to trace him. 
 
 Dave Ash missed Silent and wondered what 
 devilment he was up to. Whatever it was, it was 
 aimed at him, and he told his wife and daughter 
 that this killer that the Bears had was out trying 
 to slip in another killer. The first thing they 
 knew there would be a band of robbers and cut- 
 throats of the worst kind living at Mr. Aron Bear's 
 house. If they did not look out, he said, some- 
 one would come up missing some morning, and 
 that things had gone just about as far as they 
 were going to with him. 
 
 Aron remembered that, with all his troubles, 
 he was still a law-abiding citizen of the United 
 States. His mind was weak from quarreling, but 
 he could remember his duty to his government. 
 So he wrote a letter to the United States Marshal 
 at Washington, D. C, notifying him of the pres- 
 ence of the outlaws. 
 
 The department found the letter to be 0. K. 
 —74— 
 
GREAT OAKS FROM LIITLE ACORNS 
 
 and informed the marshals acting in that section, 
 who, in turn, verified the statement, but informed 
 the department that the band was so strong that 
 it would take an army to capture it. Then the gov- 
 ernment officials decided that it would be cheaper 
 to go another route. They offered a reward to each 
 United States Marshal who captured any one of 
 the robbers, dead or alive. They all got busy, but 
 they could not get fhe bandits — the place was 
 too well guarded. 
 
 Dave Ash got another hunch that they were 
 i^oing to kill him — he could feel it in his bones. 
 They had sent and got one bad man and were 
 looking for another ; and when they got the other, 
 zhey intended to "get" him. Suddenly another 
 brilliant thought struck him. Dave Washburn, 
 the man he was named after, and who had been 
 an old neighbor back in Tennessee, was now a 
 United States Marshal in Texas. He would send 
 to Washburn for three of the toughest despera- 
 does in Texas ; and show Mr. Bear something, just 
 to beat him at his own game. He laughed out loud 
 when the thought materialized. He told his wife 
 and daugther Betty; there was another family 
 jubilee, and they all took a hand in writing the 
 letter. They made it strong, saying that the coun- 
 try was grand and that home would be the best; 
 but as Ash did not want to pay very much wages, 
 the marshal was to get the men as cheaply as 
 possible. 
 
 When the Texas marshal got the letter, he 
 noticed before he opened it that it had come from 
 —75— 
 
SILENT 
 
 the postoffice nearest the band of outlaws at Dev- 
 ils' Den, California. Expecting a notice that the 
 band had been captured and that the rewards were 
 off, he carelessly opened it and was merely about 
 to look at the name of the marshal signed at the 
 bottom, when he noticed the closing signature, 
 "Your Namesake, Dave Ash." 
 
 "Well, now, that sounds different," he 
 thought, as he read the letter carefully. He 
 thought for a long time and then remarked to 
 himself: 
 
 "I know the men he wants. Besides helping 
 Dave out they can pick these outlaws off one at a 
 time and get the rewards; and by ridding Texas 
 of the fellows I have in mind, it will be another 
 asset to the credit of Dave Washburn." 
 
 Every good officer in every country knows a 
 lot of fellows, half-marshals, half- outlaws, who 
 are led in the direction of the best pay. Sometimes 
 they arrest the taker and at other times they do 
 the taking themselves. This kind are without 
 doubt "hard-boiled eggs." The marshal knew 
 them, as all United States marshals do. 
 They know them all — it is their business to know 
 such fellows. He knew^ the three to send; they 
 operated together and were the "toughest babies" 
 he had ever known. 
 
 It was no use to send those men a letter or 
 a wire, as he knew they did not deal in such 
 things. He must deal direct with them. So he 
 sent a messenger to tell them that Dave Wash- 
 burn wanted to see them on urgent business. They 
 —76— 
 
GREAT OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS 
 
 came at once, for they were not afraid of Wash- 
 burn; he would never double-cross a friend. 
 
 When the wonderful story of the outlaws and 
 the reward was made known to them, they were 
 anxious to go. Washburn found that his men 
 could go part of the way on the train. So the 
 men shipped their three white horses, their sad- 
 dles and their guns as far west as possible, in- 
 tending to ride their horses the rest of the way. 
 Meantime the Texas marshal notified the Califor- 
 nia marshals that he was sending three deputies 
 west, with "John Doe" warrants for the outlaws, 
 and asked him to co-operate with his men, who 
 would be stationed on the ground. And Marshal 
 Washburn gave a sigh of relief, when the three 
 men were on their way. 
 
 Dave Ash did not realize how fast some men 
 can work until he got a letter stating that his re- 
 quest had been filled to overflowing in the way 
 of bad men, and cautioning him not to get them 
 started unless he wanted a massacre; for, "when 
 them fellers he was sending got started, there was 
 not enough people in California to stop them." 
 Again there was a dance of jubilee — this time in 
 the Ash home. 
 
 Aron Bear was selling cattle all the time and 
 the buyer was letting the stray ones steal into the 
 herd, the buyer of course telling himself, after 
 the strays got into his herd, that he did not know 
 one from the other and had no time to count. So 
 the strays were naturally driven away with the 
 ones he had bought. 
 
 —77— 
 
SILENT 
 
 Dave Ash was selling cattle too, and the buy- 
 er was letting Dave's strays follow the herd in 
 the same way. Dave and Aron each would have 
 a friend watching the other to see that the ani- 
 mals they sold had the right brand on. These 
 friends found that the brands were all right, still 
 both men were losing cattle. Neither Aron nor 
 Dave knew enough to watch their own herds to see 
 that the buyer took only the cattle he had pur- 
 chased ; and each accused the other of causing his 
 losses. There are lots of people besides Dave and 
 Aron who fail to first watch their own business. 
 
 Silent was still keeping himself well out of 
 the way in the mountains. Tom was getting so 
 big now that it was not advisable to send him to 
 school any longer. He wanted to train the colt 
 Charley. He liked to go with Silent who was a 
 great teacher of western life. He had learned to 
 shoot at any object that was after him by throw- 
 ing himself on the side of his horse and facing 
 whatever was in pursuit. This mode of fighting 
 was often necessary in killing the grizzly bear. 
 He had learned how to start fires without 
 matches; how to backfire for protection; how to 
 suck the poison from a wound made by the rattler ; 
 how to turn his horse's shoes backward to keep 
 from being tracked ; how to lie on the side of his 
 horse and shoot under his neck, using the horse's 
 body for breastworks. But this last was coward- 
 ly, Silent had told him. It was a trick of the 
 Apache Indian and should not be practiced by 
 white men. 
 
 —78— 
 
GREAT OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS 
 
 Tom was well educated, according to Silent. 
 He advised Tom not to ride Charley, as he thought 
 the colt might be too young. Tom ansv/ered that 
 he thought the same thing; but said that if he 
 dii not ride the colt, Charley would jump the 
 fence and come anyway, bothering the other 
 horses, as he is jealous of them. Continuing, Tom 
 said: 
 
 "If I tie him up. Mother says, he just frets 
 himself sick. He is just bound to be with me. 
 Night after night I awaken and look out of the 
 w ndow and there he stands, looking right in at 
 me. He is just like a watch-dog, and he can jump 
 these fences just as easy as your horse steps over 
 the bars. He is as big as your horse, and yet he is 
 only three. Ain't he a dandy?" 
 
 "I will say it again," answered Silent, "he is 
 the most perfect horse that I have ever seen. How 
 fast can he run, Tom?" 
 
 "I have never let him run as fast as he want- 
 ed to yet, but he can run so much faster than the 
 other horses that there is no race to it," answered 
 Tom. 
 
 When they arrived home, the father told 
 them that Dave Ash was circulating a story that 
 Silent was a man-killer, imported from Texas, and 
 that they v/ere waiting for another one from Tex- 
 as whom they intended to slip in to kill him (Dave 
 Ash), and then skip the country, so that nobody 
 would know who did it. He also said that Silent 
 and the Bears would be somewhere else at the 
 —79^ 
 
SILENT 
 
 time, so that they could prove themselves in- 
 nocent. 
 
 Dave, knowing that his three bad men were 
 coming, was trying to pave the way for them; 
 for he really expected that they would clean out 
 the Bear family the first day. So he bolstered his 
 story up by talking of the trip that Silent did 
 t£.ke, and by saying that he was still making a 
 ti ip every now and then. And as Silent was^lay- 
 ing very low," the story took well with Dave's 
 friends. 
 
 The preacher, the only sane man in the com- 
 munity, was praying and thinking ; but the affair 
 had grown to such magnitude that it would take 
 years to bring these people back to their right 
 senses. 
 
 Betty Ash was growing up very old-fashion- 
 ed, pret-y and lady-like. She grew up, trained to 
 hate the Bears and all of their friends; but she 
 could not forget the night coming from school 
 when she had said so many mean things to this 
 boy that he had run home and cried. She would 
 ponder, and to herself she admitted that she 
 should ask forgivness for that one mean thing 
 she had done. But who would she ask? Not one 
 of the Bear family! No, you bet she would not! 
 Even if she did want to she dare not ; for to speak 
 to a Bear meant disgrace forever. And that ended 
 it all for Betty. 
 
 Tom paid no attention to any of the girls of 
 his size ; in fact, he was so wrapped up in the colt 
 Charley that he almost forgot everything else. 
 — SO — 
 
GREAT OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS 
 
 But he was a good boy and also good-looking and 
 very quiet and gentlemanly. And my, how he 
 loved that colt which seemed so happy while in 
 Tom's company that they were a picture to look 
 at! They would play awhile, spoon awhile, and 
 then do tricks — and Charley had learned lots of 
 them. 
 
 Dave Ash got a letter that the Texans were 
 about ready to land; so in order to admit them 
 without suspicion, he asked everybody if they 
 knew of any hands looking for work, pretending 
 that he wished to hire several. If any men would 
 say they wanted work, Dave would find fault with 
 them some way and reject them, until one day 
 the three Texans rode up to the post office and 
 asked for Dave Ash. The postmaster directed 
 them, and then told the Bears and their friends 
 of the three tough-looking bad men. And Dave's 
 story of wanting to hire hands was exposed, thus 
 making a bad situation much worse than it should 
 have been. 
 
 Bear's friends told all about the pretended de- 
 sire to hire hands, and the arrival of the Texans 
 inquiring for Dave Ash ; but that was told by the 
 friends of the Bears, and nothing that came from 
 the other side was credited any longer. 
 
 When the three Texans were settled com- 
 fortably and had their bearing well in hand, the 
 leader handed Dave a letter from the Texas mar- 
 shal, at the same time saying that Mr. Ash ought 
 to be proud of the good friend he had in Texas. 
 Dave opened the letter and in it was a history of 
 
SILENT 
 
 the outlaw band at "Devils' Den," near him ; but 
 about that he must never say a word for fear of 
 his life. The letter added that the three men 
 were the worst of bad men, and were all deputy 
 marshals under him; that the wages would be 
 nothing except fresh horses to ride and a good 
 place to eat and sleep ; and that the deputies would 
 sure be his friends and help him in every way 
 possible. Now all the friendship that existed was 
 that the Texas marshal wanted a place to dump 
 these undesirables and to get a cut in the rewards 
 if possible. And the three Texans wanted the re- 
 wards. Dave Ash was not considered by either; 
 but Dave thought he was the most beloved man 
 in all the world. Everybody liked him except old 
 Bear, and he would soon be out of the way. 
 
 Betty looked the Texans over and decided 
 that Texas must be an awful state. Mrs. Ash 
 was just like her husband, which was very notice- 
 able, and she thought that the Texans had arriv- 
 ed just in time to save the life of her husband, 
 and maybe of the entire family. So she treated 
 the Texans royally and demanded the same treat- 
 ment from Betty, who was agreeable, in a way; 
 for she was getting along now to where she was 
 paying attention to grown men— that is, she would 
 compare them in manners, politeness, conversa- 
 tion, looks, and the like. 
 
 The leading Texan, equal to all conditions, 
 told Mrs. Ash one day that she had the most 
 charming and pleasing personality he had ever 
 seen in a woman ; and that he thought her daugh- 
 
GREAT OAKS PROM LITTLE ACORNS 
 
 ter's beauty, grace and intelligence outclassed 
 anything in the world. Mrs. Ash, like many of 
 other women who have never been sufficiently 
 flattered by their husbands, was so elated over the 
 unearned flattery that she was almost on the point 
 of being silly. 
 
 And the leader, wise old owl that he was, kept 
 constantly reminding her that she and her daugh- 
 ter were so much alike in their ways and even in 
 looks that strangers might take them for sisters. 
 He pulled all that old-time stuff, which kept her 
 in a flurry. She just wondered how Dave had ever 
 run the ranch without them. So every time there 
 was an extra good piece of meat upon the plat- 
 ter, it was always passed to the leader first, with 
 the good piece next to him ; and that man never 
 overlooked anything that came his way. The Tex- 
 ans got the best of everything and, as that was 
 what they were accustomed to, they were satisfied. 
 They stayed around the Ash home for about two 
 weeks, occasionally letting slip little darts of flat- 
 tery until Mrs. Ash had gotten just about as silly 
 as they dared let her. Then they began to sneer 
 and throw slurs at the Bear family, which suited 
 the Ash family immensely. 
 
 Once they rode up to Silent, who was in front 
 of Bear's house, and made a lot of insulting re- 
 marks which Silent ignored, as was his custom. 
 Then they began to jeer at him. Each time one 
 of the Texans would say anything, whether it was 
 a sarcastic remark or a foolish attempt at humor- 
 ous slang, they would all laugh and laugh loudly, 
 —83— 
 
SILENT 
 
 as if the remark were intelligent wit. At last they 
 left Silent, still and motionless, while they rode 
 away, laughing this time at themselves for trying 
 to "kid" a half-witted person. For they really be- 
 lieved that Silent did not understand what they 
 said. 
 
 When they rode back home, they said to Mr. 
 Ash: 
 
 "That feller over thar hasn't got no sense 
 at all. He caint understand. Why he's locoed and 
 scared to death. You don't need a gun — ^just poke 
 yore finger at him an' he'll run hisself to death. 
 If that is one of yore bad men, just send yore 
 wife over. She can handle him all right." 
 
 Then they left and rode on down to the post 
 office to inquire about a package that was coming 
 from New York by train, pony express and stage. 
 They had ordered a pair of the most powerful 
 field glasses made. But no package had arrived; 
 so they went to the "Devils' Den" country to re- 
 connoitre and locate the most advantageous place 
 from which to watch the activities of the outlaws. 
 Keeping on the other side of the mountains from 
 the valley, they would ride to the top and look 
 over until they found a place about two miles 
 away from the den. Here they could see it all 
 from a safe distance, and as the glass that was 
 coming would show a man three times as far, they 
 were fixed for the rest; the rewards were sure. 
 
 On the way back, one of the Texans chided 
 the leader for letting the "old gal" get too sweet 
 —84— 
 
GREAT OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS 
 
 on hiin, saying that they might lose their home 
 and good eats, and so on. 
 
 "Leave that to me," said the leader, "I am 
 not that foolish yet. But did you notice the 
 daughter? She is also coming around my way. 
 Now you fellers ben a givin* me advice, let me 
 give you some. You lay off that gal, for I sure 
 think she's sweet, and she is beginning to fall 
 for that old slush just like her mother. If I do 
 get her, I'll break her damn' neck if she ever looks 
 twice at a feller that throws that stuff like I do." 
 
 The next day they changed horses and went 
 over to the other side of the valley. They found 
 that there were only three trails leaving the Den ; 
 one went to the mining camps, one went to the 
 coast, and one led to the southern country. 
 
 When the powerful field glasses arrived, a 
 watch was set upon the outlaws day and night. 
 The Texans would take eight-hour turns and 
 watch everything. They knew what the signals 
 were, and they knew everything that the robbers 
 did, for they were three of the most skilled men 
 in their business. 
 
 They found that the robbers left the Den 
 soon after daylight and went direct to the place 
 where they intended to pull the next job, having 
 slept all the day before so as to be fresh and ready 
 for the raid that night ; then secreting themselves 
 as soon as possible after the robbery or fleeing in 
 the opposite direction from the Den to throw off 
 pursuers. Maybe they would ride nights and 
 sleep days and be two weeks getting back to head- 
 —85— 
 
SILENT 
 
 quarters. Then they would wait upon the appoint- 
 ed ridge until the signals flashed "0. K." and they 
 were allowed to enter the only place there was for 
 rest and recreation without fear — that bat cave 
 of filth and darkness, "Devils' Den." 
 
 "^6— 
 

 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE MAN HUNTERS 
 
 R. and Mrs. Bear were attending the 
 divided church regularly, praying and 
 reading the Bible, and trying in this 
 way to overcome the feeling of revenge 
 i:hat was surely growing upon them. Tom was 
 attending Sunday school, as all the young folks 
 ♦lid, and seemed to be happy and contented with 
 che world, despite the constant reminders of the 
 aggravating deeds of the Ash family. As his folks 
 often said: "Give him the company of that horse 
 Charley, and the rest of the world can quarrel on." 
 Tom and Charley would play like two pup- 
 pies, both of them grown, you might say, and 
 each had developed into a giant of his kind. But 
 still they played. Tom would pinch Charley and 
 run; Charley would run after him, walk upon his 
 hind legs, so as to be able to catch Tom, and nip 
 him in return for the pinch. Tom would put one 
 hand upon the fence and over he would go with 
 Charley right after him. It took no more effort 
 for one to jump the fence than the other. On they 
 would play until Mrs. Bear would call Tom for 
 bed. Then it would take them half an hour to 
 say good night to each other. Tom would go to 
 bed, waving good night to the two bright eyes 
 that would be watching him. After Tom had been 
 in the house long enough to be in bed and asleep, 
 -57— 
 
SILENT 
 
 the horse would jump the fence, go to Tom's win- 
 dow and look at the sleeping boy, until he was 
 satisfied that all was well. Then he would jump 
 quietly back into the lot and be there when Tom 
 got up to feed him next morning. 
 
 Silent was watching the Texans and, smart as 
 they were, he had trailed them and had found out 
 just exactly what they were doing and how they 
 were doing it. Now that the Texans had captured 
 several of the outlaws and received the rewards, 
 they were a little bit "chesty." In riding back and 
 forth, which they were doing continually, they 
 would make sarcastic remarks, aimed at the Bear 
 family, as they passed Aron's house. Most of their 
 time was spent in the Devil's Den country, sup- 
 posedly looking after Mr. Ash's cattle. But they 
 had never seen one of the cattle, and they never 
 intended to ; all they wanted of Ash was a place to 
 eat and sleep and plenty of horses to ride. They 
 changed horses every time they went to the 
 Devil's Den country. Each time they heard of a 
 robbery, they would wait long enough for the rob- 
 bers to get rested in that den of filth, then they 
 would take the stand selected, and watch for them 
 to go out on another raid. When the outlaws 
 would leave, the Texans, with the powerful field 
 glass, would get a close up look at them, so that 
 they would be able to recognize each outlaw on 
 sight. They would also get familiar with the in- 
 dividual horses of the outlaws, and would study 
 them as they rode along, until the direction was 
 selected — north, west or south. As soon as the 
 
 -f-»88 — 
 
THE MAN-HUNTERS 
 
 outlaws decided upon their trail, they were doom- 
 ed, but did not know it. The Texans would fol- 
 low on that trail and the end was capture or death 
 to the outlaw. 
 
 Sometimes the unsuspecting outlaws would 
 boldly walk into a small town where they were not 
 known, and stalk around, sizing up the lay, oc- 
 casionally walking into a dance hall or a gambling 
 house to look on for a moment. Then two of the 
 Texans would aimlessly saunter up on each side, 
 and, at a signal, grab each of the outlaw's hands 
 and quietly put the cuffs on him, leaving the third 
 Texan to guard the captive while they took the 
 other outlaw — the outlaws seldom traveled in 
 groups of more than two. 
 
 Sometimes the outlaws, after lying in the 
 Devirs Den cave for a long period, would get 
 sleepy when the fresh and pure air of the outside 
 filled their suffering lungs. Then they would fall 
 asleep by the roadside, and in cases of this kind 
 the trailer never stopped ; he crept noiselessly upon 
 the victim, for the "John Doe" warrants read 
 "dead or alive," and in such cases it was the safest 
 way, and the reward was just the same. All there 
 was to do was to hunt up the nearest United States 
 marshal, turn the body over to him, and brag to 
 him of his, the outlaw's bravery. The captor would 
 tell of how the outlaw was "fighting two of us to 
 a standstill"; but when he saw the "third one of 
 us show," he ran and we "had to shoot him in the 
 back." This would be their explanation for the 
 place in which the man had been shot. The reward 
 
 —89— 
 
SILENT 
 
 would be allowed, and the Texans would be on 
 their way, ready for the next one. Think of the 
 odds against the outlaw! 
 
 On the way back from one of these visits 
 to the marshal, the leading Texan said: 
 
 "Now, boys, you fellers want to play purty 
 from now on, for I am gettin' up a case with that 
 gal, and I don't want you to spile it. The fact is 
 I am thinkin right now of settlin' down in this 
 country. I like the climate an' everything else, 
 especially Miss Ash ; and let me tell you she likes 
 me a little. Every time we come back, she asks 
 me what we done and how much we made; and 
 here is where you fellers got to be "peart." I tell 
 her we get five thousand apiece for them fellers, 
 and of course I tell her thar*s no danger long's 
 you're not afraid ; and I tell her all about capturin' 
 'em without a shot or nothin'. 
 
 The small Texan spoke up and said: 
 
 "That's fine doin's, tellin' a gal all about what 
 we're a doin* an' everything." 
 
 "I got that all cinched up, old pal ; leave it to 
 me," said the leader. "I told her that the reason 
 I was tellin' her was because I liked her so much ; 
 and I was afeared she would hear somethin' and 
 talk; that to talk meant somethin' awful would 
 happen ; that if this boy, or any of the Bear family 
 should find out, they would go right straight and 
 tell the outlaws; and then that old chief Joaquin 
 Murietta would lead his band down here and blow 
 up the house and everybody in it. I made her be- 
 lieve that it was for her sake I was tellin' it— kill 
 —90— 
 
THE MAN-HUNTERS 
 
 two birds with one stone, see? She thinks I am 
 goin* to be the richest man in California, 'cause I 
 told her so; and she believes everything I say, 
 just like her mother. 
 
 "I wisht I could pick a fight with that half- 
 witted thing at Bear's, or with the old man or his 
 son. To pick one of them off would sure build up 
 our reputation right now. Say, that is sure a 
 fine-lookin' boy; and sure goin' to make a fine 
 raan, if he lives. I love to see that gal Betty look 
 at him. She sure don't see nothin' nice about him, 
 she won't even talk about him. She just looks as 
 though she was lookin' right through him, and in- 
 to his heart — maybe seein' what's in it." 
 
 And they all laughed. 
 
 They arrived home, or at Mr. Ash's, and the 
 first chance the leader got, after complimenting 
 Mrs. Ash until she was satisfied to leave him alone 
 with Betty, he told the girl about the success of 
 the trip. No bloodshed, as usual, and the money 
 had been sent to a bank. He said he did not 
 know what he was going to do with so much 
 money unless she would let him spend it on her. 
 She told him she did not think that would do at 
 all, as it would not be proper for a single girl to 
 accept gifts from men. 
 
 "No," he said, "I don't believe so myself, but 
 I am not expectin' you to be single the rest of 
 yore life." 
 
 The next night there was a dance, given by 
 the friends of the Ashes, and after his usual 
 mushy compliments and flattery, the man asked 
 —91— 
 
SILENT 
 
 Mrs. Ash if he could take Betty. Without answer- 
 ing him, Mrs. Ash called Betty and told her to get 
 ready and the gentleman would take her to the 
 dance. Betty wanted to go with the Texan all 
 right, but she did not like the way her mother 
 rushed things. Nevertheless, in a short time, they 
 were off on horseback to the dance. Here the 
 Texan began to spread his salve — the best brand 
 he had. They had a good time at the dance, as 
 none of the Bears were invited or even allowed at 
 the dance. 
 
 Coming back, the Texan took Betty's hand 
 in his, squeezed it and caressed it, and talked 
 about beautiful love and the picture before his 
 eyes ; and was generally very interesting to her in 
 his conversation. When Betty got home she was 
 very much excited, for this was the first man who 
 had ever spoken a word of love to Betty Ash. And 
 she wondered if excitement was love, and so on, 
 until her mother came in. Then she told her 
 mother that she thought she would not go to 
 dances any more. 
 
 "You will go with that gentleman whom you 
 went with tonight, if he is good enough to ask 
 you," said her mother. "And don't think you are 
 a-goin' to insult our gentlemen friends, jes' be- 
 cause you think you are grown up and purty. Why, 
 there wouldn't be none of us alive today if it 
 wasn't for them three fellers." 
 
 Betty soon found out that her own idea of 
 "them fellers" did not count; she would have to 
 do as she was told. 
 
 —92— 
 
THE MAN-HUNTERS 
 
 Other dances came and the Texan took her 
 to them. He would also take her to Sunday school 
 sometimes, but not often. He never went inside 
 the church, but just stood around outside and 
 whittled. Besides, going and coming was no good 
 as he could not talk well in daylight. So he final- 
 ly decided to be out on the man-hunt on Sundays. 
 But he never missed a dance if there was any way 
 for him to be there. 
 
 He began to get very bold with Betty; he 
 would put his arm around her, which she thought 
 V7as not just right, for she had known him less 
 than a year. But what was there for her to do ? 
 There was no one in all the world to appeal to and 
 get relief; and what of it, anyway? No harm in 
 anything unless you make harm of it. And she 
 dismissed the thought as if it were all right. 
 
 -03— 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE PLEASANT ASSOCIATION OF MINDS. 
 
 HEN the Texans went on the next trip, 
 they found the outlaws were getting 
 scarce; and it took them over a month 
 to land two and get the reward settled, 
 'iney came back home a little bit out of sorts. But 
 after jollying up Mr. and Mrs. Ash, the leader was 
 himself again, and was telling Betty about the 
 successful raid, and the huge amount of money 
 they had received. 
 
 Mrs. Ash had been telling Dave of what was 
 going on, and Dave gave the leader to understand 
 that, if he wanted Betty, she was "his'n", whether 
 or not. And in turn, her father told Betty that, if 
 she could make herself agreeable enough for the 
 leader to ask her, she had better not refuse him 
 if she still wanted to live at home. 
 
 Now that Betty knew where she stood, she 
 need not think at all. The thinking had all been 
 done for her. 
 
 'Well, they can't blame me if he turns out 
 bad," she reflected. "As it is, I have nothing at all 
 to say." 
 
 The next dance night, when they were com- 
 ing home, the Texan stopped, got off his horse, 
 walked up by the side of Betty's horse, held out his 
 arms and said: 
 
 "Come on down, I want to talk to you." 
 —94— 
 
THE PLEASANT ASSOCIATION OF MINDS 
 
 And for the first time she refused. But it 
 W2LS too late to refuse him now, for he knew where 
 he stood with the parents, and he intended to use 
 his authority. So he pulled the girl right off the 
 horse, took her by the hands and said, 
 
 "Look here, gal, we're a-goin' to get married. 
 Tve been lovin' you a long time ; and I believe you 
 think purty well of me. I done fixed it with your 
 folks. So late next spring I'll have a house fin- 
 ished, and we'll go to livin' it it." 
 
 And, as if everything had been said and done, 
 he picked her up in his arms, facing him, his 
 breath smelling of strong whisky and his mus- 
 tache covered with tobacco juice, he kissed her 
 again and again, right on the mouth. 
 
 When he had helped her back onto her horse, 
 she knew more than she did before. She knew 
 that he was not the gentleman her folks thought 
 him; she knew that he was very repulsive; she 
 was sick from the odor of his breath and that taste 
 of tobacco from his mustache; and the thought 
 sickened her. How would she stand him after 
 they were married ? But she must and would, and 
 she would not make it any worse by thinking of 
 it. She would wait for spring and pray for relief. 
 
 The next expedition, or man-hunt, the Texans 
 started, lasted almost until spring. For though 
 they watched and waited, they could see nothing, 
 no signals, no life of any kind. So they crawled 
 up close to the cave and waited. Still there was no 
 si[,Ti of life. 
 
 After they had waited a safe time, they all 
 —95— 
 
 i 
 
SILENT 
 
 went up to the cave ; the small Texan went in and 
 started a fire to light up the place. Then the 
 others went in and they explored the entire cave. 
 The robbers had disappeared. In the hurried get- 
 away of the remaining outlaws, they had left lots 
 of clothes, groceries and whiskey, which latter the 
 Texan sampled right away to see if it was "pisen." 
 But it was pronounced good, as all whiskey is. 
 
 They found a letter just outside the cave en- 
 trance, sealed, stamped and ready to mail. Evi- 
 dently, it had been accidentally dropped by the 
 writer. From this letter they gained the informa- 
 tion that there were only two of the outlaws left. 
 One, the Mexican leader, was writing this letter to 
 the other, whose address was Santa Barbara, Cali- 
 fornia. He wrote that something was picking 
 them off fast and sure. The writer had no idea 
 where it was coming from, and he was going back 
 to his family in Mexico. He finished his letter 
 with affection and the usual, "Adois, amigo, adois." 
 
 Going back home the next day "lickered up" 
 when they landed, they saw Silent and Tom stand- 
 ing up the road from the house. The leader said : 
 
 "WeVe got to start something now! Give 
 'em a scare!" 
 
 So they agreed to give Tom and Silent a 
 little touch of Indian fighting. Accordingly, when 
 they got near, the leader yelled like a Comanche 
 to direct the attention of the Ashes, started his 
 horse on a dead run, flung himself away over on his 
 horse's side, and began to fire his six-shooter un- 
 der his horse's neck and across the ground in front 
 
 —96—= 
 
THE PLEASANT ASSOCIATION OF MINDS 
 
 of Tom and Silent. Each of the other Texans fol- 
 lowed suit, and they tore up long streaks of dust 
 right close to the astonished Tom and Silent. 
 
 On they rode, shouting and shooting, the bul- 
 lets plowing up long furrows of dust, until they 
 had passed the Bears* house, when they all 
 straightened up on their horses and rode up to 
 Ash's residence, all laughing and talking. They 
 told the Ashes that it was a shame to scare two 
 greenhorns like that, but they just couldn't help 
 s t. Dave Ash was elated ; in fact, it was the first 
 thing that had happened to make him feel that he 
 could see the end of the Bear family. 
 
 Mrs. Ash and Betty were out to meet the Tex- 
 ans, as they had been gone for a long time; and 
 Betty had apparently forgotten the last trip from 
 the dance. 
 
 That night, around the fireplace, the Texans 
 told everybody about their successful undertak- 
 ings; how they had broken up and captured all 
 ])ut two of the worst band of outlaws that ever 
 was. But they did not want anybody to mention 
 it, as there might be something more to do. They 
 told about the big rewards they had got and how 
 easily they had captured their men. But they did 
 not tell just how they had captured some of the 
 worst ones — asleep. Nor did they tell that the 
 wise old marshal in Texas was getting half of the 
 rewards for his help, and for what he had "on'' 
 this trio; nor that after that they had to "cut" 
 ^vith the local marshal for his identification and 
 * 0. K's." on the captures. 
 —97— 
 
SILENT 
 
 So with the outlaws all gone and most of the 
 reward money spent, the Texans had only one 
 chance to remain at the Ashes, and that was to 
 stir up the factions, and in that way keep their 
 homes. With the liquor taken from the Devil's 
 Den aboard, they would be a tough, troublesome 
 mess to handle. 
 
 Poor Tom ! That was the first time any man 
 or set of men had ever insulted him. He wasn't 
 angry, but he was hurt; and as he and Silent 
 walked back home, he said: 
 
 "I am awfully sorry for those men. I wondar 
 why they did it r 
 
 Silent answered this time, that they were 
 either drinking or they intended to leave this 
 world soon. 
 
 Tom did not quite understand, but he knew it 
 was useless to ask any more questions, as Silent 
 had already gone over his quota of talk. 
 
 Tom met his father coming. Mr. Bear asked 
 all about the trouble, and when Tom told him, he 
 was so angry he was almost insane; and he told 
 his boy right there to shoot, and shoot to kill, 
 the next time. Tom explained to his father that 
 he had never thought of killing any one; but his 
 father told him that he was to kill, and that the 
 time was getting near when such as that would 
 be done. He took poor Tom to task for being 
 afraid, and said that cowardice did not belong to 
 the inheritance of a Bear. 
 
 Tom told his father that he feared no livin^r 
 man or beast and never had. 
 —98— 
 
THE PLEASANT ASSOCIATION OF MINDS 
 
 "Any time you give me the command to 
 shoot, Father, I will shoot, and shoot to kill." 
 
 Then the elder Bear turned to Silent and 
 asked : 
 
 "What have you got to say about it?" 
 
 "I will say that the boy has given my answer 
 in full," replied Silent. 
 
 Aron Bear entered the house, still storming. 
 Silent went to the kitchen to help Mrs. Bear. Tom 
 went on to the back lot, walked up to the side of 
 C'harley and began to study. But Charley would 
 rot have that; he just nosed Tom around and 
 nipped him with his lips until Tom had to play. 
 So after a very short play, Tom forgot all his 
 troubles and was himself again. Tom and Charley 
 had decided mutually that the puppy days were 
 ever; that they were both big, strong, full-growns 
 now ; and that something more serious was taking 
 the place of play. The conditions of existence as 
 it was began to take a serious hold on both their 
 minds, and they were full partners in everything. 
 When anything was wrong, Tom would go to 
 Charley, and the happy moments passed together 
 would clear the boy's mind. The pleasant assoc- 
 iation of minds is wonderful whether it be man, 
 woman or beast. 
 
 Several weeks passed without one movement 
 from the Texans. They stuck right at the Ash 
 home and Mr. Bear was worried almost sick on 
 account of it, when Silent finally told him the 
 lexans* business; and now that he supposed the 
 ^99— 
 
SILENT 
 
 outlaws were all gone, there was nothing for those 
 fellows to do but be mean. 
 
 "But why did you not tell me before," Mr. 
 Bear asked. 
 
 Silent answered: 
 
 "It would have done no good to tell. Be- 
 sides, I have been talking too much lately. Three- 
 fourths of the things I say I wish I hadn't said 
 five minutes after. I am telling you now so that 
 you can look out for yourself," he added. 
 
 Mr. Bear told his wife everything, and said 
 that he could not understand why Tom let "them 
 fellers" get away so easy with that big bluff. Mrs. 
 Bear said she wondered why the men laid over on 
 the opposite side of their horses and shot under 
 the horses' necks. 
 
 "If they were so brave," she said, "why didn't 
 they sit up straight on the horses where Tom 
 could see them ? And, as to Tom being afraid, he 
 is not, Aron Bear! He has more real nerve than 
 you have. For when you came in that night, he 
 said, "Hello, Mamma !" as he always does and held 
 up my hand with his fingers as if to admire me, 
 as is his custom. And, Aron, there was no sign of 
 a quiver in his voice! His fingers were steady, 
 not one muscle excited. And then he went on 
 through to play with Charley, who loves Tom 
 better than he loves his own life. And Tom is so 
 generous and kind. Just lately he has found some 
 destitute family or some poor miner whom he 
 takes groceries to." 
 
 "Well, I am so glad you told me all this, Su- 
 —100— 
 
THE PLEASANT ASSOCIATION OF MINDS 
 
 san. It surely makes me feel better. And I am 
 glad to know that Tom is generous and is helping 
 the poor. We will just let him go on with his 
 charity work all by himself. It is so good to 
 know that he is that kind. Do you ever give him 
 any money, mother?" 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Bear, "I do. But he doesn't 
 spend it, so I have about quit; but I will start in 
 again this very day." 
 
 —101— 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE HARVEST OF HATRED. 
 
 OME miners had been scratching 
 around the mountains looking for gold, 
 when they discovered a large quantity 
 of coal. Everybody was excited about 
 it as tney all said that it meant a railroad. So, 
 in order to get a lot of advertising out of the 
 strike, the residents decided to change the name 
 of the post office to COAL-INGA. They had sent 
 a petition to Washington and were waiting for the 
 answer, when along came a big, fat letter from the 
 government to the postmaster. Now the post- 
 master liked very much to show these letters from 
 Washington, so he called in the crowd and said: 
 "Here she is, boys! Let's open her up." 
 They all stepped up close, and the postmaster 
 opened the letter. There was nothing in it about 
 changing the name of the post office, but there 
 was a notice to be posted in a conspicuous place, 
 and the notice read: 
 
 CANCELLATION OF REWARD. 
 
 All rewards previously offered for the 
 capture of the notorious outlaws in the 
 Devils' Den country are permaneucly 
 withdrawn. 
 
 —102— 
 
THE HARVEST OF HATRED 
 
 Then there was a letter stating the facts and 
 that the government felt deeply indebted to the 
 three deputy marshals who were sent from Texas, 
 giving their names. The postmaster knew who 
 they were, as they had gotten the field glasses 
 under their own names when they first came. So 
 he tacked up the notice and spread the news 
 broadcast. 
 
 Dave Ash got the credit for working out the 
 scheme, and that naturally went to Dave's head. 
 I^e declared that, as soon as he got rid of the Bear 
 • ; . : i^ r ice would be safe to live in "once't 
 more. ' He stayed around the post office nearly 
 all the time to .sfst all the praise he could. The 
 sentiment turned in his favor; he was better 
 thought of then Aron was, and he knew it. Mr. 
 Bear was losing ground; his friends were not so 
 plentiful and had lots less to say than Dave's did. 
 
 Notice came of the change in the name of 
 the post office, and Dave said he believed he was 
 the first man to suggest calling the town COAL- 
 INGA, and as he had all the other glories, he an- 
 nexed that one too. 
 
 So the town was named COALINGA, and 
 "Dave Ash done it." 
 
 The preacher had repeatedly refused to take 
 sides, but now that Dave was getting so popular, 
 his friends went to the preacher in a body and 
 told him, in a way that sounded more like a de- 
 mand than a request, that it was his duty to take 
 sides after a man had proven himself to be what 
 Dave Ash was. The preacher said : 
 
 —103— 
 
SILENT 
 
 "Gentlemen, I am sorry to have you bring 
 this matter up again. It is very unpleasant and 
 provokes more feeling among yourselves. Right 
 now I am taking sides against memories of the 
 same kind of thing in my own life. And, gentle- 
 men, please be calm, is all that I have to say." 
 
 Aron Bear, after hearing of the stand that 
 the preacher had taken, was more than anxious 
 to attend church the next Sunday. And, as Tom 
 went to Sunday school and church too every Sun- 
 day, they all went together, Tom riding Charley, 
 Susan and Aron riding in the big wagon with a 
 quilt thrown over the spring seat. Susan wore a 
 starched sunbonnet and was sparkling all over 
 with cleanliness. Aron had his best on, but that 
 was the same that he wore every day. 
 
 Dave Ash was there on the post office steps 
 as usual. He never went inside the church, as he 
 did not want a preacher to do all the talking — he 
 wanted to do a "majority" of it himself. After 
 the sermon,which was from the topic "Lead Kind- 
 ly Light," Mr. and Mrs. Bear started out to the 
 wagon. As they were passing near the post office 
 steps, Dave remarked to his friends, who were 
 around him : 
 
 "I wonder if he is a cinnamon bear or a grizz- 
 ly bear or just a common, dirty old black bear." 
 
 And they all laughed, Dave laughing the 
 loudest of all as he thought that was sure a good 
 one. Aron hesitated, then walked on to the 
 wagon, put Susan onto the spring seat and called 
 Tom, telling him to drive the wagon back home, 
 
 —104— 
 
THE HARVEST OF HATRED 
 
 as he would ride Charley. Then he walked back 
 to the post office steps, stopped in front of Dave 
 and said: 
 
 "Dave Ash, you are a low down, cowardly 
 ^jkunk to make a remark like that before my wife ; 
 and if you will stand on your feet, I will wipe 
 the earth with you/' 
 
 Dave sat still a moment, and his friends look- 
 ed to him for a reply; he had to say something, 
 so he said: 
 
 "Yes, when that big boy of your'n is along, 
 you are mighty brave. Wait till I catch you alone." 
 "It is not my boy you are afraid of, you low 
 down skunk; it is this." 
 
 And Aron rolled up his sleeves and placed 
 his big, bony fist right under Dave's nose. As 
 Dave refused to answer the challenge, Aron got 
 on Charley and followed the wagon home. 
 
 The friends of Dave Ash who were there be- 
 gan to "get sour" right away, and they told him 
 50. They said that, while Aron Bear was a bad 
 man, he was brave, and it was generally the 
 eoward who was in the wrong. They all told their 
 lolks when they went home; but they said that 
 it was to go no farther, as they had been up- 
 holding Dave Ash so long they were afraid now to 
 own up that he was not the man they thought. 
 This was a bad policy; but necessary ignorance 
 kept them from knowing right, and the happen- 
 ings of that day were buried. 
 
 When Aron got home he told his folks that 
 Dave was a sneaking coward; and now that the 
 —105— 
 
SILENT 
 
 Texans were here without any business, it must 
 be that Dave had hired them to do his fighting. 
 If that were the case they might expect trouble 
 from now on. He was right, for as soon as Dave 
 got home, he told the Texans that he had heard 
 the Bears had made their brags that they were 
 going to make the Texans take water. Then the 
 latter began their spitefulness. They did not want 
 to start any real fighting ; for if they did, it would 
 end that good home with the Ash family. The 
 leader was building the house for Betty and him- 
 self ; spring had come and the house was not done 
 yet. Nevertheless, they must keep the trouble 
 brewing some way. The Texans had never heard 
 of the incident after church and they v/ere afraid 
 the quarrel might die out of its own accord, as 
 they knew that none of these quarrels had any 
 foundation. So they would slur Aron's friends 
 and make dirty remarks when they passed and 
 saw anyone out in front of Aron*s house. 
 
 Everything went on as usual until one Sun- 
 day when Tom went to Sunday school, but was 
 instructed not to stay for church. There was a 
 lapse of a couple of hours between Sunday school 
 and church, in order to give everyone a chance to 
 get lunch. This made church rather late in the 
 afternoon. It was getting risky to be out at night, 
 for the Texans were making life miserable for the 
 Bears. 
 
 Aron and Silent were rounding up the cattle 
 that Sunday, and they had also been requested by 
 Mrs. Bear to get in early for fear something might 
 —105— 
 
THE HARVEST OF HATRED 
 
 happen to them. It was getting late and Mrs. 
 Bear was out in front of the house, watching for 
 Tom to return from Sunday school. She saw him 
 coming, but instead of being the respectable dis- 
 tance behind Betty, as agreed upon long ago, he 
 was that far ahead of her. 
 
 As Mrs. Bear stood waiting for Tom to come, 
 the Texans, always riding around together, rode 
 by her. One of them asked her if she intended to 
 have some cubs out in the road. And they all 
 laughed and "ha-ha-ed," good and long. 
 
 She ran for home, fearing that they would 
 say more. Tom saw her run ; he raised his reins 
 and Charley made a few long jumps, and they 
 were home. When Tom found his mother she was 
 crying. Charley had gotten there so quickly that 
 Tom surprised her. She tried to make excuses, 
 but they were no good with Tom. He knew that 
 something had happened, and if she did not tell 
 h im, he said, he would think it worse than it real- 
 ly was. 
 
 So she told him exactly what the Texans had 
 said and they both cried, one with shame and the 
 other with pity. When Aron arrived they were 
 Loth trying to wipe away the tears, and when he 
 beard the awful news, and looked at mother and 
 £on in tears, a raving madman would have been 
 frightened just to see Aron Bear cursing, stamp- 
 iag and damning the world by quarter sections, 
 with every bit of mind and reason gone, and Susan 
 clinging onto him for dear life. He would storm 
 {ind charge, flinging poor Susan to the floor, only 
 —107— 
 
SILENT 
 
 for her to rise and cling tighter than ever, beg- 
 ging him to be reasonable. 
 
 He got Tom and Silent together and said: 
 
 "Every man to his guns! We will go over 
 there and kill the entire tribe!" 
 
 Mrs. Bear pleaded for him to wait until morn- 
 ing, when he would be more himself and able to 
 compete with the wily Texans, who would be cool 
 and collected. But, no, he would not wait! The 
 time had come, and he would rather go, and take 
 his own with him into another world, than to 
 have them stay in this miserable condition. 
 
 "No! Come on! We will walk right out of 
 the door, firing broadsides right into their house," 
 he declared. 
 
 "Oh, no, Father," said Tom, "the women." 
 
 "Women, hell!" said his father. "Don't you 
 ever call them women again ! Come ! and show no 
 quarter !" 
 
 Silent sat unmoved through it all, but when 
 Aron said, "Come on," he shook his head and said 
 he believed that Mrs. Bear was right. 
 
 "As it is," he said, "there are four to three 
 that we know of, and maybe, as you say, the wo- 
 men are gunmen, or will help. It is going to take 
 all the cool judgment we have to turn the trick. 
 You are excited, and I am liable to get to shoot- 
 ing fast. You might run right in front of my gnus 
 and make us lose the battle. If you will wait un- 
 til morning, I will try to be right in the middle of 
 the Ash house when the last shot is fired." 
 Keeping Aron quiet long enough for Silent 
 —108— 
 
THE HARVEST OF HATRED 
 
 to tell his story in his slow and quiet way, had a 
 v/onderf ul effect on the excited madman. He had 
 cooled off sufficiently to listen to reason; but at 
 times he would still rave for a short while. Mrs. 
 Bear still clung to his clothing and prayed for him. 
 She promised him before God, that, if he lost the 
 battle the next morning, she would go with them 
 to another world, and not stay and suffer indig- 
 nities alone. And the family knelt in prayer such 
 as is consoling to the participants in a desperate 
 battle to be waged at daybreak, the time when 
 Silent had suggested for starting the activities. 
 
 It was supper time now and time to feed the 
 I orses. Tom had just gone out to the back lot 
 where Charley stood, saddled as he had come from 
 Sunday school. Tom threw ten ears of corn in the 
 trough in front of Charley, and quietly slipped 
 his rifle into the scabbard that stayed fastened to 
 the saddle at all times. Then he picked up 
 Charley's foot and looked at the new steel shoes 
 that had been put on recently. 
 
 As he gently lowered the horse's foot, Tom 
 was wistfully looking toward the house. Charley 
 liad taken several bites of corn, when he noticed 
 that there was no smoke coming out of the kitch- 
 en stovepipe, and no smell of cooking, which he 
 had smelled every night of his life. There was 
 s omething different and he noticed it, and he was 
 jiever satisfied unless he could understand and 
 help in some way. With his nose he rooted the 
 f»ars of corn from one end of the trough to the 
 other and took a deep bite out of one, biting the 
 —109— 
 
SILENT 
 
 cob half in two. Then he looked around at Tom, 
 pushed the boy's hat back with his nose, and 
 looked right in Tom's face. He could understand 
 now that something was wrong. That was enough 
 for him. He did not want to eat. The corn in his 
 mouth tasted like cockle burrs and he spat it ah 
 out, blew his nose and looke i again. He had never 
 seen Tom look that way before, and his true and 
 loyal mind told him that whoever had mistreated 
 Tom must pay. His head went up and his ears 
 back ; he stamped and stepped around, and switch- 
 ed his tail as much as to say: 
 
 "I am ready, and I have the power and the 
 will to avenge the wrong." 
 
 Poor Charley ! He did not know, but he con- 
 tinually reminded Tom that he was ready and 
 willing for the command to surrender the horse 
 life that his mother had given him, if necessary. 
 Tom cinched up the saddle very tightly, and when 
 Charley knew that there was something lor him 
 to do. 
 
 The sun had just gone down, and Aron was 
 helping Susan get supper. Silent had taken his 
 pan of potatoes outside to peel. Across the road 
 Betty Ash was sweeping the front yard. When 
 Tom put on the bridle, Charley's muscles began 
 to form and stand out like stranded and plaited 
 cables of steel; and he stood erect and motion- 
 less. Tom mounted and sat there just as motion- 
 less and waited, looking toward his home and 
 mother. Charley looked at Tom's feet to see if 
 they were in the stirrups properly, and as they 
 —HO— 
 
THE HARVEST OF HATRED 
 
 were, he stood at attention, ready for the com- 
 mand. Whatever it was it made no difference to 
 him, he was going to obey it. 
 
 Tom took one last and affectionate look to- 
 ward home, then leaned over and held out the 
 reins. Charley started slowly and right toward 
 the Ash house, a direction he had never been al- 
 lowed to go before. When he had crossed the 
 road between the two houses, he was told to "go," 
 and he went ! Like a flash from a rocket he went 
 over the fence and right up to the front of the 
 Ash house; and like the quick and sure strike of 
 the adder, a left arm reached out, seized Betty 
 Ash around the waist, and landed her squarely on 
 Charley's back as he cleared the fence by a safe 
 margin. Then on to the flat and toward the moun- 
 tains he went like a streak! 
 
 The Texans ran for their horses, which were 
 always ready and behind the house. As Tom went 
 over the fence with Betty, the Texans came around 
 the house. They had to go down to the gate to 
 get out of the yard, and they lost some valuable 
 time. On the other hand, Tom had to make a long 
 circle to keep from facing the wind on the flat, as 
 he saw that Betty was about to lose her breath, 
 the horse was going so fast. The Texans, taking 
 advantage of the circle, began to gain on Tom 
 as they all disappeared in the distance. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bear did not know just what had 
 
 happened until they saw Tom going, with Betty 
 
 behind him. And that was all Mr. Bear wanted 
 
 to know. Mrs. Bear called, "Where is Silent?" 
 
 —Ill— 
 
SILENT 
 
 His pan of potatoes was sitting there, half peeled, 
 but he was gone. Mrs. Bear called; 
 
 "Silent!" 
 
 And from the top of the house came the an- 
 swer, "Yes, Mrs. Bear." 
 
 "What on earth are you doing up there? Is 
 everybody going crazy at one time?" 
 
 Silent told her that he had seen the whole 
 thing, and as the distance had hidden the view of 
 the race, he had crawled to the top of the house 
 to get a last look at Tom. 
 
 "Tell me, please," said Mrs. Bear, "tell me all 
 about it. What did you see?" 
 
 "Well, the first thing I saw was the horse 
 walking toward the road between the houses, and 
 just as he crossed the road, he began to leap stiff- 
 legged, like an antelope, till he came to the fence. 
 He was watching Tom all the time to get his 
 meaning; and he leaped that fence so easy-like, 
 and darted right at Miss Betty. But when he 
 jumped that fence going out, he didn't jump easy! 
 I never saw such a jump before! He hit the 
 ground twenty feet on the other side of that fence, 
 and hit it running!" 
 
 Charley knew that the other horses were 
 gaining on him, and he wondered why Tom would 
 not let him go faster; but the unsteady balance 
 of the girl behind convinced him that it was on 
 her account that he was being held back. So he 
 contented himself with the thought that, when 
 they struck the steep side of that rocky mounain, 
 he would leave those three white horses behind; 
 -—112— 
 
THE HARVEST OF HATRED 
 
 for he knew that he was keeping his locomotive 
 pov/ers up to a high standard of perfection, and 
 could go twice as fast if called upon by Tom. 
 
 And the three white horses were coming like 
 the wind. Their bodies were getting closer to the 
 ground all the time, showing Tom that they were 
 running faster. He could see the Texans man- 
 euvering, under orders from the leader, who was 
 forming them into a V-shape, as wild geese fly. 
 Tom knew that they were about to begin their at- 
 tack in some unknown manner. 
 
 The leader began to loosen his rifle in the 
 scabbard and pull his six-shooter around in front, 
 tie other two following suit. Tom saw that some 
 desperate attack was about to take place. Was it 
 possible that they were going to try to shoot him 
 off that horse, and Betty so close to him? He 
 knew they were all good shots, but he did not 
 think they could shoot that well ; and he knew pos- 
 itively that they did not intend to harm the girl. 
 Instantly the thought struck Tom, burning his 
 bead like Are. A cold sweat broke out all over him 
 Ls he realized that they were going to kill his 
 horse. Murder poor Charley, the lowest down thing 
 a man could do — shoot a horse to get a man ! 
 
 His head cooled off, the cold sweat dried and 
 I'om came to himself completely. Recollections of 
 the past, of the grizzly hunt, and also the tradi- 
 tion of ages which is self -protection, brought him 
 back to his daring ,accuracy and alertness. Like 
 a flash and with panther-like suppleness, he threw 
 himself on his back and on the left side of his 
 —113— 
 
SILENT 
 
 horse. With his right hand he brought his rifle 
 from the scabbard, and with his left he pulled 
 Betty down into his lap. All this was done with 
 no lapse of time. 
 
 Tom, steadying himself, touched the trigger. 
 A long, slender bolt of fire left that gun with the 
 report, and also a hissing, shrieking message of 
 death. Did the message find its mark? There 
 was no doubt in the minds of Tom and Charley, 
 for Tom never missed. Tom was sure, for he 
 could see. He touched the trigger the second 
 time, and again the shriek and the flash like 
 lightening left the gun, the report just as distinct 
 as before, showing that it came from a small and 
 very high-powered rifle. Should he fire the third 
 shot ?He must ! He had no time to think, and again 
 the third hissing message was on its way. This 
 time the shreiking sound followed very distinctly 
 until the message was delivered. All these whistl- 
 ing sounds were new to Charley. He did not know 
 that Tom could make home-made mushroom bul- 
 lets. 
 
 But the clatter of Charley's feet never 
 varied. He leaped just the same distance each 
 time, and struck each foot with the same sure 
 tread. Each leap into the darkness, for it was 
 getting dark now, was just equal to the leap be- 
 fore and to the one after, making one think that he 
 was being propelled by perpetual motion, or by 
 some mechanical device invented to mark time 
 accurately. 
 
 And with all this precision of accuracy, he 
 —114— 
 
THE HARVEST OF HATRED 
 
 ^v3ls running with his right front and hind legs 
 doubled in under him, to throw himself over side- 
 ^vise, and balance the uneven load on his back. 
 On he hastened into the night, with the clock-like 
 clatter of his hoofs dying away in the distance. 
 
 No one said a word. Tom put his gun back 
 into the scabbard and straightened Betty up in 
 the saddle, as he had had no time to change her 
 position before. Then slipping behind the saddle 
 Jiimself, he put his arms around her. But when 
 he kissed her lips, she was cold; he discovered 
 lihat she was cold all over and that her eyes were 
 shut. He called for Charley to stop. 
 
 Poor little Betty! The strain of that awful 
 ride, lying on her back while the shooting was go- 
 ing on, and for all that she knew, one of those 
 hissing messengers might have been aimed at her 
 father ! So many things had happened in a short 
 space of time that poor Betty gave up. 
 
 After taking her off the horse, Tom built a 
 fire and put Betty in front of it; he frantically 
 rubbed and patted her, blew his warm breath on 
 her cold cheeks, worked over her and tried to talk 
 to her ; but there was no use. Betty was dead — to 
 all things except two. She could feel and she 
 could cling to whatever she felt. 
 
 Tom thought that by the right kind of nurs- 
 ing, she would come to all right; but he knew 
 that such nursing as he could do must be done 
 on the horse's back and the horse going, as he had 
 spent thirty minutes already and there was no 
 more time to lose. He knew there would be a new 
 —115— 
 
SILENT 
 
 posse formed as soon as the fate of the three Tex- 
 ans was discovered. So he took off his coat and 
 outer shirt and put them on Betty. Then he took 
 off his shoes and socks, slipped them on over her 
 little thin shoes and stockings, tied them on se- 
 curely, and was about to mount when he noticed 
 Charley acting queerly, nodding his head up and 
 down and striking his saddle-girth with his nose. 
 
 Tom thought the saddle-girth was hurting the 
 horse, but when he felt the girth, his hand touch- 
 ed something soft and warm and Tom knew. He 
 removed the saddle, took a nice, warm wool blank- 
 et from under it, and wrapped it around Betty. 
 He mounted, and with the semi-conscious girl in 
 his arms and pressed closely to his breast they 
 started on that long, dark and dangerous trail. 
 
 Dave Ash and his wife were sitting beside 
 the rock fireplace, cleaning up guns and discussing 
 the awful tragedies that had happened back in 
 Tennessee, rehearsing all the bad deeds that had 
 been committed back home ; but they both vowed 
 that this was the worst and most desperate thing 
 that had ever happened to their knowledge. And 
 Dave "allowed" that by this time the three bad 
 Texans had surrounded Tom. 
 
 "And," said Dave, "as soon as his horse slows 
 down a bit, so as he will not hurt Betty by falling, 
 they'll shoot the horse, capture the boy, put about 
 three ropes around his neck, and with one ridin* 
 ahead and one on each side, bring him right here 
 for me to pass judgment on. And you know what 
 rd say, don't you, Ma? The only trouble will be 
 —116— 
 
THE HARVEST OP HATRED 
 
 the trees don't grow high enough! Maybe they 
 just rode right up beside him and took him off that 
 hoss, for them Texans ain't afraid of nothin'." 
 
 "But I am afraid they will hurt Betty," said 
 Mrs. Ash, after looking into the fire awhile. 
 
 "Don't worry, Ma; them fellers didn't come 
 out here for nuthin'. They'll catch that feller so 
 slick he won't know what's happened, it'll be done 
 so quick, and Betty will just get a little shaking up 
 from goin' over that fence. Say, Ma, it takes 
 some hoss to clear that 'bob-wire' fence with two 
 people on his back. And he didn't even 'light — 
 he just hit the ground runnin'. Did you notice 
 how quick them fellers got into action when some- 
 thin' did happen? I didn't get my breath hardly 
 after he grabbed Betty, until here they come, 
 Winchesters and six-shooters all on and ridin' like 
 Comanche Indians. That boy sure used poor judg- 
 ment! I tell you. Ma, it was a lucky day when I 
 sent to Texas for them fellers." 
 
 Just then Ma said, "Listen! I hear horses 
 coming!" 
 
 Mr. Ash said, "That means Betty is coming, 
 and that rascal is about draggin' behind, for I hear 
 them and they are comin' slow. What did I tell 
 you. Ma, about them fellers? Well, we'll go out 
 and wait for them to come up. One thing sure, 
 that boy is dead, everything is so quiet. It's al- 
 ways that way, they say, when some one is killed." 
 
 Up came the three white horses, saddled and 
 bridled, but riderless. 
 
 —117— 
 
SILENT 
 
 "What does this mean?" they said to each 
 other. 
 
 They examined the horses and found them 
 apparently unharmed, and they both knew what 
 had happened. Dave Ash was fearful and angry 
 together. He told his wife that he had stood all 
 he could, and now he was going to kill somebody. 
 And Mrs. Ash said that she could not blame him, 
 as it was enough to drive anybody to distraction. 
 
 So Mr. Ash strapped on two six-shooters, took 
 a rifle in his right hand, tied the three white 
 horses together, and leading them with his left 
 hand, started over to Mr. Bear's. 
 
 Aron and Silent were out in front of the 
 house in the road, apparently unarmed. Susan 
 was in the kitchen, sobbing as silently as pos- 
 sible, but she could be heard plainly. Dave held 
 up his left hand, with which he was leading the 
 horses, and shouted at the top of his voice in the 
 darkness : 
 
 "That plague-taked boy of your'n killed all 
 three of them fellers that were working for me! 
 What have you got to say for yourself?" 
 
 "I have nothing to say, Mr. Ash, I am a brok- 
 en and ruinned man," answered Aron. "All that 
 I can say is that I am sorry for you and your fam- 
 ily. And about the only thing left to live for is 
 to help you bring my own son back to justice." 
 
 That took some of the fighting spirit out of 
 Dave. He had half a notion to feel sorry for Aron. 
 He could hear Mrs. Bear sobbing and saying to 
 herself: 
 
 —lis— 
 
r 
 
 THE HARVEST OF HATKED 
 
 "No, no! My baby never done anything 
 wrong! He couldn't do it! No, no, no!" she 
 would murmur over and over. 
 
 Dave looked at Silent through the dusk. He 
 looked again and he wondered what kind of a man 
 Silent was. He did not look as though he felt 
 sorry or happy, or had ever had any likes or dis- 
 likes, successes or reverses. In fact, he looked to 
 Dave to have just the same expression as the 
 f(3nce post he was resting his hand upon. 
 
 Aron assured Dave again that he would help 
 in any way possible. Silent even gave a nod in 
 tlie affirmative when asked if he would assist in 
 bringing Tom back. Dave felt much better now 
 w hen he turned to go back home. And the only 
 audible sound was the quiet sobbing in the kitchen. 
 
 As Dave walked back, he began to think, "I 
 sure do feel sorry for that woman, and I kinda 
 feel sorry for that old man. But I believe the old 
 devil is lyin' just to get a chance to help that boy 
 of his'n. And that feller that don*t say nothinM 
 Somethin* funny about him ! Don't think he's got 
 much sense." 
 
 Dave got home and he and his wife went to 
 bed, but there v/as very little sleep. They would 
 both awaken at the slightest sound. Along in 
 t le night, some time before daylight, they thought 
 t ley could hear voices in the distance ; and finally 
 they were convinced that they did hear someone 
 talking. 
 
 They both got up and dressed, and Dave pre- 
 
 —110— 
 
SILENT 
 
 pared for the worst. The voices came right up 
 close and stopped. Dave called out: 
 
 "Who's there, and what do you want?" 
 
 "We're the fellers that work for you. Our 
 horses were shot down under us, and it took us 
 nearly all night to walk home," shouted the Tex- 
 ans. 
 
 Mr. Ash went out to the gate to meet them, 
 and they exchanged views. Long after daylight 
 they were still there, and exhausted as to any 
 idea that would unravel the miracle. Then Dave 
 started toward the Bears' house. 
 
 "Where you goin'?" asked the leading Texan, 
 puzzled at the actions of Dave. 
 
 "That old feller has been blowin' about help- 
 in*, and right now I am goin' to give him a 
 chance." 
 
 More excited than ever, Dave arrived at 
 Aron's, and before he got to the house, called out : 
 
 "Come on, if you want to help." 
 
 Again he called, "Come on!" 
 
 Aron met him at the gate, and Dave, almost 
 out of breath, exclaimed: 
 
 "Them three fellers come back before mom- 
 in* without a scratch on 'em; and I want you to 
 come right over and have a talk with them fel- 
 lers, and see if we can figger out what's hap- 
 pened." 
 
 They started immediately for Dave's home, 
 
 as Aron was a man of his word — there was never 
 
 any deviation from that, and when he told Dave 
 
 he would help him in any way he could, he meant 
 
 —120— 
 
THE HARVEST OF HATRED 
 
 it just that way. For, a§ he had told Dave before, 
 his only object in life was to bring his own boy 
 back to justice. 
 
 Silent, hearing all this, did not just like the 
 idea of Aron's visit. The thought of four to one 
 did not suit him a little bit. After darting back 
 to the house and coming out straightening out 
 his coat and buttoning it, he sauntered along be- 
 hind with his head down and his hands folded 
 behind. He was in a deep study. How had it 
 happened? He suddenly raised his head and his 
 hands began to sv/ing by his sides as he started 
 walking faster. He had thought it all out ! 
 
 He remembered teaching Tom how to shoot 
 a horse through the muscle on the top of its neck, 
 and in that way knock the horse out for the time 
 being, the same as a knock-out blow in the prize 
 ring. The horse would recover in a few minutes 
 and be as well as ever, with the possible exception 
 of a little stiffness in the neck. 
 
 "But then," he said to himself, "Tom has such 
 a small rifle I am not sure the ball was large 
 enough to cause the shock." 
 
 He had forgotten about teaching Tom to 
 mushroom bullets to give them more destructive 
 power. 
 
 Aron and Dave arrived and, together with 
 the Texans, formed a small party for consultation. 
 Silent came up and stayed back a short distance 
 from the group, where the wildest conjectures 
 prevailed. Ghost stories, miracles, powers di- 
 rected from above were discussed, until the blame 
 —121— 
 
SILENT 
 
 was centered on the three white horses being 
 possessed with some evil. 
 
 Then Silent spoke two words: "They're 
 creased." 
 
 "For God's sake!" said the leading Texan, "I 
 never thought of that before, and I have done it 
 many a time!" 
 
 They went around to the horses, raised up 
 their manes, and there, just as plain as day, were 
 the wounds where the little high-powered mush- 
 room bullets had passed through. 
 
 In making their plans for the pursuit, 
 the leading Texan kept trying to excuse himself in 
 various ways. Nothmg in the world hurt him so 
 badly as to be outdone, and by a mere boy. He 
 finally contented himself with the statement that 
 he did not know that the boy was a tried, trained 
 and desperate outlaw; but as he knew now, he 
 would treat him as such, and from now on, there 
 would be no quarter shown. The only mercy 
 shown would be to the captive girl. 
 
 —122— 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE FUGITIVES ON A DARK AND DANGER- 
 OUS TRAIL. 
 
 HILE elaborate preparations were under 
 way to capture the kidnaper, Tom had 
 mounted Charley with Betty in his arms 
 cold and almost lifeless ; but he kept her 
 hugged tightly to his breast, and with his cheek 
 pressed snugly to hers, transmitted to her body 
 what warmth he could in that way. Charley 
 made the grade of that steep, rocky mountain just 
 as quietly and just as fast as he thought his 
 top-heavy load could stand it. He had noticed 
 that his load was very unsteady and he must be 
 careful, for to let a person fall off his back would 
 be a disgrace, and if he did such a thing, he would 
 be classed as a bronco. He knew that he had the 
 strength and agility to stay under his load, and 
 under it he was going to stay. On they went, 
 Tom holding Betty just the same. When they 
 reached the mountain top, Charley circled to the 
 right until he came to a low, flat place on the 
 mountain side, one mile above a deep, dark creek. 
 There he stopped and partly turned his head to 
 listen and see at the same time. Tom straight- 
 ened himself up and pressed his bare feet down 
 securely in the cold, iron stirrups. Holding Betty 
 more securely than ever before, he gave Charley 
 the command to go, and with three cat-like jumps, 
 
 —123— 
 
SILENT 
 
 the horse landed, and turned squarely down the 
 hill. 
 
 The mountain began to move, with squeak- 
 ing, grinding and crashing noises, under Charley's 
 feet and around him. Charley was satisfied now 
 that he had started a mountain slide of loose rock, 
 and that it would never stop until it landed him 
 in the creek bottom below. With his head down 
 hill he could see to keep in the middle of the slide ; 
 and at times, when his forefeet would catch on a 
 solid rock or snag, he would jump clear of it and 
 land in the rolling, grinding mass far below; in 
 that way he would help the slide to go faster. He 
 was getting restless; this was very slow time for 
 him to make; and he was in such a hurry; for 
 he knew there was danger behind ! 
 
 On reaching the end of the slide and the creek 
 bottom, it was very dark, and a new problem and 
 terror was presented. The water in the creek was 
 from ankle-deep to breast-deep, except in places 
 where it would suddenly drop off to an unknov*'n 
 depth. 
 
 With a prayer to his Maker for his fair un- 
 derstanding of things and his keen scent of dan- 
 ger, he was confident that he would in some way 
 be able to warn Tom, who could steady himself 
 and prepare for whatever it might be — a leap over 
 snags and brush, or a sudden drop into swimming 
 water, and then straight up and out again to the 
 bank on the other side. What he feared most 
 was the landing on the other side of these holes, 
 as he knew his body would be standing straight 
 —124— 
 
FUGITIVES ON A DARK AND DANGEROUS TRAIL 
 
 up when he went out ; and he was not sure if Tom 
 could carry his weight in the stirrups with Betty 
 in his arms. He figured to himself that if he dis- 
 covered any weakness in Tom's legs when he 
 ^^as lifting himself out of the deep holes, he 
 w ould shove himself back into the water and swim 
 around until Tom was ready and told him to go 
 again. 
 
 Knowing that only himself and Tom had ever 
 dared to travel this trail before, and that only in 
 daylight, he was still confident of his ability. With 
 his head very low, his nose within an inch of the 
 A^ ater and his ears thrown forward as far as they 
 would go, he had determined he would see, hear, 
 sinell, or, in some unexplained way of the horse, 
 know of the dangers as he came to them. Thus 
 on they went, with Charley guarding the way, and 
 in ways of his own, transferring the dangers to 
 Tom. 
 
 After riding up the creek bottom for sev- 
 eral hours, Tom discovered that he was getting 
 so very cold that poor cold Betty had begun to feel 
 warm to him. He knew that when the warmth 
 left his body, it would be impossible for the girl 
 to keep warm. He must get her out of that cold 
 c:"eek bottom. The place he had selected where 
 he could leave the creek was very far from there, 
 and the banks were so steep that it was impos- 
 sible for a man to climb out, let alone a horse. 
 Tom began a resurvey of the creek as far as he 
 had gone before in daylight. The only thing that 
 —125— 
 
SILENT 
 
 he could remember, outside of the straight banks, 
 was a tree which had fallen across the creek and 
 the stump end had slid down into the water. It 
 was quite a jump over it and he wondered if he 
 could hold Betty as Charley made the jump. He 
 studied all ways and means of getting themselves 
 out of that cold creek before Betty was frozen to 
 her final death. Charley kept his steady pace, just 
 as he thought Tom wanted him to go, with his ears 
 pointing forward and his nose touching the water, 
 still confident that there was no lurking danger 
 that would get the best of his alertness. 
 
 "Here is that log," said Tom almost aloud, 
 "and it is larger than I thought it was." 
 
 Charley also noticed the log and wondered if 
 Tom would be able to stick on with his charge. Or 
 would Tom stop, get off and let him jump over, 
 and then get on again. By that time they were up 
 to the log and Charley stopped. Tom urged him on 
 slowly; Charley thought he understood and he 
 leaped across. Tom turned him around with the 
 reins and urged him up to the log again. Charley 
 decided that Tom was going back, so he jumped 
 back ; and again Tom turned him around with the 
 reins and urged him up to the log. 
 
 Charley knew that something altogether dif- 
 ferent must be done; this time he was going to 
 watch Tom more closely and he was going to un- 
 derstand. Tom took him by the mane, reined him 
 up sideways to the log and urged him on; but 
 Charley could not understand. Tom kept urging 
 him on until at last Charley planked one front foot 
 —126— 
 
^ 
 
 FUGITIVES ON A DARK AND DANGEROUS TRAIL 
 
 on the top of the log and waited. Tom petted him 
 on the neck and then he knew. But how was he 
 going to do it ? 
 
 Tom had been holding Betty as high as pos- 
 sible to keep her out of the water, carrying her 
 in his left arm and over his left shoulder. Charley 
 knew that the awful lunge he must make to get 
 all four of his feet on that log would jerk Betty 
 of;' from Tom's shoulder. So they both hesitated 
 for a minute. Then, sliding himself back in the 
 saddle, Tom let Betty slip down into the saddle in 
 front of him, holding her head in his left arm ; and 
 with his right hand he urged Charley on. The 
 horse raised himself on his hind legs and squatted 
 for the spring. When he jumped he landed right on 
 top of the log with all four feet. 
 
 Tom reined him to the left and he started on 
 the trip up the log. Each hoof he planked down, 
 **tiger fashion," so as to sink the calks of his new 
 shoes into the log and eliminate any chance of a 
 slip. For Charley knew as well as the others that 
 a slip on that log meant the end of the trip. Up 
 the log he went. Caution is not the word to de- 
 scribe the horse's method, it was more than that, 
 each step was guarded individually. He looked as 
 best he could in the darkness, rubbed his nose on 
 the bark to try and discover if it was loose ; and he 
 felt cautiously with each foot before he planked 
 it down for the next step. When he reached the 
 baak, he kept right on going until the tree began 
 to get too small for his feet. Then he knew he 
 was safe and he leaped to the ground below. 
 
SILENT 
 
 Tom alighted and said to himself out loud : 
 "I must build a fire and warm this girl." 
 "I am not cold," said Betty, clearly and dis- 
 tinctly. "I have been warm for some time." 
 
 Then, discovering that she had on Tom's 
 shoes, stockings, coat and shirt, besides Charley's 
 saddle blanket, she said: 
 
 "Take off those shoes and stockings and put 
 them on yourself, you silly boy. Don't freeze 
 yourself to death just because I had to get foolish 
 and swoon off like those high-toned ladies we read 
 about. And put this blanket back on that horse's 
 back. He is not to blame for what we do." 
 
 Tom did as she said, except that he cut the 
 blanket in two and divided it. After a few more 
 hurried preparations, they were on their way 
 again. They followed beside the creek on the 
 bank to the place where they originally expected 
 to leave the water. About the only sound audible 
 was the gentle flap of Charley's feet as they patted 
 the damp sod under them. They could see the 
 place where they must leave the creek and follow 
 a canyon to the top of the mountains again. They 
 started up this steep and almost impassable way. 
 The horse stopped, and pawing the ground with 
 one front foot, put his nose to the ground and 
 snorted, almost defiantly. Tom urged him on, and 
 on he went. But it was the first thing that he could 
 not understand; why Tom should turn his shoes 
 backward, just after he had done the most heroic 
 thing in his life — climbing out of that cold, dark 
 creek on a log. But Tom knew that the ones hunt- 
 
 —128— 
 
FUGITIVES ON A DARK AND DANGEROUS TRAIL 
 
 ing them would be looking for tracks going from 
 the creek, not into it. So up Charley went, zig- 
 zagging his way from cliff to crag, higher and 
 higher, until they reached the top. And there they 
 found the little hut that Tom had prepared. 
 
 It had been one long, eventful night since 
 Tom had decided to start on this desperate mis- 
 sion ; and after he took off the saddle and bridle, 
 Charley was at a loss which to do, rest or eat. So, 
 after sizing up the abundance of good grass, he 
 decided to rest. After resting a short time, he got 
 up and ate until almost daylight. Then he again 
 lay down, and putting the end of his nose on the 
 ground to rest comfortably, took a short nap. He 
 was up and ready to go at daybreak. Tom was 
 up but did not want to go further. After taking 
 Charley's shoes off in order to save them, Tom 
 began to cook breakfast. There seemed to be 
 quite a variety of provisions stored in the shack, 
 and it did not take long. Betty arose, washed her 
 face and hands and appeared happy and contented, 
 as every woman should appear to get the most out 
 of life whether she is satisfied with her surround- 
 ings or not. 
 
 —129— 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SILENT ON GUARD. 
 
 |AAL," said the leading Texan, "now that 
 we have our plans laid to capture that 
 boy, I suppose Mr. Bear will go with us, 
 as he has said several times that he 
 wanted to help us bring the boy to justice." 
 
 The Texans did not really want Mr. Bear 
 along, as they wanted to give Tom a "dirty deal" 
 when they found him, just to "get even." Mr. 
 Bear answered in just the way they wanted and 
 just the way they had figured he would, other- 
 wise they would not have asked him to go. He 
 said that, as it was his boy and their only child, 
 he would prefer to stay and comfort the lad's 
 mother; but at any time they felt that they 
 needed him for any purpose, he would go, regard- 
 less of his own or his wife's feelings. And again 
 he wanted to assure them that he was sincere in 
 everything that he said, and they could trust him 
 absolutely. 
 
 In addition to that, he said, he was going to 
 offer the services of his man Silent. He turned 
 and asked Silent if he would go with the others 
 and do his best toward bringing his boy back. 
 Silent nodded that he would. Mr. Bear then ex- 
 plained that, while his man had very little to say, 
 they had recognized him to be a very worthy and 
 trusted man. And added: 
 
 —130— 
 
SILENT ON GUARD 
 
 "As to being afraid, we have never seen him 
 excited yet, and have considered him to be a man 
 without fear." 
 
 Before anyone had a chance to say anything, 
 Dave Ash answered that the proposition of Mr. 
 Bear looked plumb good and honest to him, add- 
 ing: 
 
 "And I am like Mr. Bear. I would like to 
 stay with my daughter's mother, as she is very 
 sad since we lost our only child." 
 
 So the posse was made up of the three Tex- 
 ans and Silent. As the postmaster said, when he 
 saw Silent with the Texans : 
 
 "They are just exactly alike — only different." 
 
 The leading Texan, taking command as usual, 
 directed each one to a different route in the same 
 direction. And he would designate the stopping- 
 place at night by a big fire; and the others were 
 to come to the fire at night and report to the 
 leader what they had seen or done that day. 
 Then they were to hobble out their horses and 
 get supper. Silent was to get the wood and water 
 and the other two Texans were to do the cooking. 
 
 Week after week they hunted without suc- 
 cess. Not even a sign of anything that would in- 
 dicate which way the boy had gone. They had 
 ridden over the tracks up to the rock slide, but 
 from there on there were no tracks. With each 
 trip back for provisions, they were more disheart- 
 ened than before. The Texans began to get mean 
 and sullen toward Silent, but he never complained 
 to anyone. He always seemed anxious, or it 
 —131— 
 
SILENT 
 
 might be said, determined, to stay with them and 
 help hunt. 
 
 Mr. Bear seemed the most anxious of any 
 one. He wanted it over with, whatever it was, 
 and it mattered little to him what it was. His in- 
 terest in life had left him, and he said that all he 
 lived for was to prove to his wife and the rest of 
 the world that he did not approve of the selfish 
 and cowardly act of his son. He made a new 
 proposition to Mr. Ash, after they had exhausted 
 all efforts to find the boy. He said that, several 
 days* ride to the east, there lived a tribe of In- 
 dians called the Tejones, who had the name of be- 
 ing great trailers. If Mr. Ash would send one of 
 his men after them, he would pay the bill. So 
 that was agreed, and the Texan that had the best 
 sense of direction was sent. 
 
 When the Texan found the Indians, there 
 were so many trailers among them that he hesi- 
 tated. But his instructions were: "Bring all the 
 trailers." 
 
 After the Texan had made motions until his 
 hands were tired out, one of the Indians spoke up 
 in very good English. He said that the miners 
 passing through to the west had taught him some 
 English; and also there had been United States 
 soldiers there, who had built a fort called Fort 
 Tejon. After a bargain to take their pay in cattle 
 and horses, the Indians agreed to help him find 
 the kidnapped girl. 
 
 Aron wondered if he had enough cattle and 
 horses to pay the bill when he saw that army of 
 —132— 
 
SILENT ON GUARD 
 
 Indians when they came. But after being assured 
 by the interpreter that they only wanted small pay 
 and that their desire was to be good and friendly 
 to the white men, he was satisfied. 
 
 The leading Texan took complete command 
 of the army of trailers and rehearsed the plans of 
 the man-hunt over with the Indian who could talk. 
 
 Silent was, as usual, in the kitchen helping 
 Mrs. Bear with her work; and Mrs. Bear talked to 
 him without even expecting an answer. Every 
 night, when she was kneading biscuits with her 
 right hand, her left hand, with her apron in it, 
 was drying away the tears. And thus she would 
 knead and cry and talk to herself ; and would say, 
 as Silent had heard her say, over and over again : 
 
 "My boy was a good boy. He couldn't do 
 anything wrong. He kissed his mamma good 
 night every night. He never told any lies." 
 
 And then, in a baby voice, as though she were 
 talking to her baby, she would say: 
 
 "No, no! he didn't do it! He couldn't do it! 
 No, no, no! He never did anything wrong! No, 
 no, no!" 
 
 Silent felt awfully bad. He thought that, if 
 he could only change places with that boy and give 
 him back to his mother, it would be the last and 
 greatest privilege of his life. 
 
 And, of course, at the post office and store 
 at Coalinga, where everyone in the community 
 met and gossiped, stories of all kinds were in cir- 
 culation. The one generally conceded to be about 
 right was that the fury of the Lord had caused 
 —133— 
 
SILENT 
 
 the ground to open and swallow Tom and Betty 
 in a deep crevice ; and it had then closed again to 
 hide them forever, the one from shame, the oth- 
 er from society. 
 
 When the three Texans came to town they 
 were the center of all interest. The postmaster 
 invited them to come over to his cabin and eat, 
 and even offered to take over some canned oysters 
 and tomatoes, and open them up for the occasion. 
 The Texans did not like to talk much, but after 
 accepting the offer of the canned goods, they 
 "opened up" a little. They told the postmaster 
 that they were men of the world and were not 
 born yesterday nor today. They touched on their 
 operations around Devil's Den, and how easily 
 they had picked up the bad men but that boy had 
 shown them something new. As to "creasing" the 
 horses, that was "old stuff"; they had captured 
 wild horses many times that way before. 
 
 "But that flip-flop he did when he did that 
 shootin* was new to us. Why if I done that," 
 said the leading Texan, "flop myself over on the 
 side of my horse with a grown gal in my lap, I 
 would puil my hoss right off his feet and right on 
 top of us and kill us both." 
 
 **Well, didn't his horse stumble?" asked the 
 excited postmaster. 
 
 "Hoss? He's no hoss — he's human. Say, 
 Mister Postmaster, let me tell you somethin' about 
 hosses. From the time we began gainin' on that 
 hoss until the end, that hoss never looked at where 
 he was agoin'. He just watched that boy; and 
 —134— 
 
I 
 
 SILENT ON GUARD 
 
 whatever that boy wanted that hoss done it right 
 now. The only time that hoss ever took his eye 
 off that boy was when he watched us. And he 
 sure kept an eye on us. When we began to man- 
 euver to kill that hoss, and we sure was about to 
 do it, I believe right now that he told that boy. For 
 when that boy grabbed the gun and made that 
 flop, the hoss flopped the other way and put the 
 boy right up straight, where he couldn't have 
 missed if he had tried to. And the last we seen 
 of him he was still runnin' on his side thataway. 
 Course, when our horses fell, we run after him on 
 foot, thinkin' that hoss might fall, but never a 
 stumble." 
 
 After the visit of the Texans, the postmaster 
 seemed to change. He began to look at things in 
 a broader way. Could it be that Tom was such a 
 terrible bad boy and still have a horse love him 
 like that? Horses do not love unless the love is 
 returned. The two things did not hitch up just 
 right with the postmaster, and he wasn't going 
 to think about the boy as being lost altogether. 
 And the mob talk, which had been decided on as 
 a proper climax, he was not going to be a party to 
 that any more. 
 
 The posse, now reenforced by the army of 
 Indian trailers, was operating in a new way. Sil- 
 ent and the three Texans took the pack train to 
 a certain place and made camp. The trailers 
 would comb the country in a circle around the 
 camp, and while some of them would be bringing 
 in reports, the others would be searching further 
 —135— 
 
SILENT 
 
 on. After the hunt had gone on many days with- 
 out encouragement, the Texans began to get 
 grouchy and mean again. They would continually 
 pick at Silent, whom they had nicknamed the 
 "Kurdistan Chief." And they all laughed and 
 seemed to have great fun at the nickname. But 
 that got old and there was no more fun. Some- 
 times they would ask Silent to talk, and if the 
 poor fellow tried to say anything, they would all 
 jibe him and make so many insulting remarks that 
 Silent would get out of the notion again. 
 
 The same thing was going on every day and 
 every night, and from bad to worse, until Silent 
 began to fear that they would refuse to have him 
 with them at all, which would never do, as he had 
 promised Mr. Bear that he would go and help to 
 bring the boy back, and he must do that. Besides, 
 Silent had desires of his own. So he decided that, 
 if he would talk a little, it would be better, and 
 he asked the leader what a "Kurdistan Chief" was. 
 
 The Texan answered that Kurdistan was a 
 little, rough, mountainous country in Asia, adjoin- 
 ing Persia, and controlled by a brigand called a 
 Sheik. Under him are chiefs, who take out small 
 bands and watch on the hill-tops for caravans of 
 camels loaded with merchandise. And without a 
 word, this chief swoops down on the Persian mer- 
 chants and robs them. The loot is taken straight 
 to the Sheik, where it is divided equally. 
 
 "Is that all they do?" asked one of the Tex- 
 ans. 
 
 "No," said the leader, "they make rugs, and 
 — ise— 
 
SILENT ON GUARD 
 
 it is said they are better than Persian rugs. Each 
 rug is a map of the place where they worship ; and 
 they get on this rug to worship their prophet who 
 is not always Mohammed." 
 
 "Well, why do I remind you of them ?" asked 
 Silent. 
 
 "Because," said the leader, "that Kurdistan 
 chief stands on the top of that mountain for days 
 without saying a word — just silently waiting and 
 watching for the object he has in view. And this 
 man strikes me as funny at times, fellers," he said, 
 addressing the other two Texans. 
 
 Then the leader looked long and earnestly 
 at Silent, as much as to say : 
 
 "I believe you have some object in view, and 
 will swoop down when the opportunity comes." 
 
 The shot landed all right. Silent understood 
 what the Texan was driving at. So he thought 
 he had better talk some more, since he could see 
 that the gap between them was getting wider all 
 the time. The others might have a suspicion that 
 his silent watching had an object, and he must 
 throw them off, as there must be no break — not 
 then. 
 
 So the next night at the camp-fire, after the 
 "Talkin* Injun" had reported to the leading Texan 
 all the findings of the trailers for the day, there 
 being, as usual nothing of interest to report, and 
 everything had simmered down, as before, to 
 quietness, the Texans resumed their sarcastic re- 
 marks to him. 
 
 Silent said, "Well, fellers, I'm not much at 
 —137— 
 
SILENT 
 
 stories, but Til tell you what happened to me once, 
 if you fellers care to listen." 
 
 *'Go ahead," they replied, "We can stand any- 
 thing once." 
 
 And they all rolled over toward him to listen 
 to Silent's story. 
 
 "When I left East Texas, I rode up through 
 the Red river bottom, on the Arkansas side. Not 
 bein' particular to have everybody knowin' just 
 when and where I went, I stayed in that river- 
 bottom road. I was goin' west, like all people that 
 want to improve their ways and fortunes. I had 
 been sleepin' out for several nights, and wasn't 
 feelin' well. 
 
 "So that evenin' I came upon a store and 
 stoppin'-place, all in one. An old man kept the 
 store in the front, lived and kept house in the 
 back, and had a double row of rooms for lodgers 
 up stairs. I found his prices were reasonable and 
 decided to take a good rest for one night. I put 
 up my horse, and after the old man had cooked 
 supper, he entertained me by telling me the his- 
 tory of the place. It seemed, from his story, that 
 every owner of the place but him was dead. They 
 had either been murdered for money or some 
 quarrel had come up and they were killed. Mur- 
 der after murder was related. He showed me 
 bullet-holes in the sides of the house, where the 
 bullet went after it had killed so and so. Finally, 
 after I had told him that I wanted to go to bed, 
 he led me around to the back end of that two- 
 story house, still pointing out in the moonlight 
 —138— 
 
SILENT ON GUARD 
 
 and the shadows where so and so fell. Pointing 
 to the stairway in the back and outside the house, 
 he said: 
 
 " *You can just go up thar and take any of 
 them beds. Nobody else up thar but you.' 
 
 "So I walked up the stairway on the outside, 
 entered the only door, and put a chair under the 
 knob, which securely locked it. I looked in all the 
 other rooms, and as he said, I was the only one 
 up there. The only door leading out was locked 
 with a chair, and I was safe for the night. I took 
 the first room nearest the door, and laid down for 
 a good night's rest. I could look out the window 
 from my bed and see that the building stood 
 among some big tall cottonwood trees, and that 
 the ground was covered with leaves. There was 
 just enough breeze blowing to move the tops of 
 those trees back and forth, and that movement 
 would cast peculiar shadows on the leaf-covered 
 ground. 
 
 I watched and watched the shadows, until 
 they became life-like. They seemed as if they 
 were beings, gathering together in small groups, 
 and then departing like magic. I finally went to 
 sleep, only to be awakened in a short time on 
 account of the covers being partly pulled off me. 
 I sat up in bed and looked all around, but could 
 see nothing. I noticed it was awfully still. I had 
 never heard anything so still before. I could hear 
 the leaves hit the ground, as they fell off the trees, 
 and that was the only sound to be heard. 
 
 "I pulled the covers back, lay down again, 
 —139— 
 
SILENT 
 
 and finally went to sleep for the second time. 
 Again I was awakened the same as before. This 
 time the covers were pulled clear off. This sec- 
 ond offense compelled me to get up, and get up 
 right. So I slipped my pistols from under my pil- 
 low and buckled them on. There was no sound. 
 It was more quiet than before. I stepped on the 
 bare floor with my bare feet, and every joint in 
 my toes and legs cracked like sticks breaking. 
 The floor also cracked and recracked, and echoed 
 clear down to the end room. 
 
 *The awful noise that I made when I gently 
 stepped on that bare floor, almost took my breath. 
 But I was determined to fight whatever it was. 
 So I went out into the hallway and looked in ev- 
 ery room on each side of the hall. Bewildered, 
 I began to think and I remembered that I had not 
 looked in the end room, opposite the room that 
 I had occupied. And, when I turned to look that 
 way, a form appeared in the doorway of that room. 
 It was clad in some thin stuff I had never seen be- 
 fore. The poor, bony limbs looked just like skin 
 and bones, and it carried what appeared to be a 
 small light in one hand. 
 
 "I darted into the room nearest me and the 
 ghost did the same thing. I darted out again, 
 and the thing did the same. I darted into the 
 next room and it did the same, and that was what 
 I wanted — to get to it, whatever it was, and have 
 it out. So I stepped into the next room and again 
 it followed suit. The next time it appeared it be- 
 gan to take on the proportions of a man; and 
 —140— 
 
SILENT ON GUARD 
 
 what appeared to be a light carried in his hand, 
 v/as a bright and glittering dagger. The moon 
 shining on it through the windows, made it glis- 
 ten and actually cast out a light, 
 
 "I stepped quickly into the next room and out 
 again; the ghost or man or whatever it was did 
 the same, and I knew then that it was only the 
 matter of a few seconds until we must meet. Al- 
 though I would not weaken now, I was getting 
 scared. I almost felt as if I was too weak to match 
 myself with such an inhuman being. I had noticed 
 that it was carrying the dagger very high, with 
 the point down, and most of the pearl handle was 
 above its hand. I thought I could grab that 
 handle at the top, above the being's hand, hang 
 on, and call for help. So I went on from room to 
 room, and on it came until w^e were opposite ; and 
 as I darted out for the last time, there it was right 
 at me. I grabbed for that dagger!** 
 
 And then Silent*s eyes traveled stealthily 
 from one Texan to another to see what effect 
 the story had had. The idea of the story was 
 two-fold. First, he wanted them to know that 
 he was not the tenderfoot they thought. Secondly, 
 lie wanted to see if he could discover, from the ef- 
 fects of the story, whether they all had the nerve 
 to "stand hitched** in a tight place. He decided 
 1 hat the smaller of the trio was the one to watch ; 
 but he did not think that the other two would 
 i^Xand the pace he knew that he could set with two 
 guns if he had to. 
 
 After recovering and waiting, the leader said : 
 —141— 
 
S I LENT 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 Silent told him that was all there was to it. 
 He had been dreaming and woke up when he 
 grabbed the dagger. 
 
 They all tried to laugh, but it was a coarse, 
 dry laugh. Silent assured them that it was not a 
 laughing matter, as he was just as badly scared 
 as if he had been awake. 
 
 The "Talkin' Injun," as they called the in- 
 terpreter, "took in" the story and his understand- 
 ing of it was that Silent was trjdng to make fun 
 of the spirits, which was unpardonable with the 
 Indians. And Silent soon found that he was very 
 much disliked by them. Only the fact that he did 
 not talk much made him bearable at all from then 
 on. The leading Texan decided that the silent 
 one, with about half sense, was not just what he 
 had appeared before. He then decided that they 
 would all watch Silent and see if they could tear 
 away that cloak of mystery, and find out some- 
 thing about him. 
 
 The next afternoon in came a messenger, rid- 
 ing a panting horse and very much excited. The 
 trailers had sent word that they had found a new 
 cabin, but that they had not investigated, as they 
 were waiting for orders. So, after a hurried con- 
 ference, the Texans decided to act with great cau- 
 tion, as it was the only thing that looked encour- 
 aging since the hunt began. 
 
 They dispatched the messenger back on a 
 fresh horse with instructions for the Indians to 
 crawl up on their bellies to where they could see 
 —142— 
 
SILENT ON GUARD 
 
 who lived in the cabin. After watching the house 
 for some time, the messenger came again with 
 the news that a young man and a woman lived 
 there, but they could not describe them, as they 
 were only just close enough to see them. 
 
 They were all positive that this was the 
 couple they were after, as no one else lived in 
 that country. The Texans knew it well, as they 
 had combed that section time and again not very 
 long ago for outlaws. And again they sent the 
 messenger with instructions to the trailers to 
 cntwl as before, after dark, and stand guard all 
 night; and in the morning, before daylight, re- 
 turn to camp and report on the happenings of 
 the night. The Texans wanted all the credit for 
 the capture. They did not want the Indians around. 
 And another thing, they said, there would be 
 "something doin*," and they did not want the In- 
 dians' story of the affair, as in those days an 
 Indian would not lie or deceive — death was prefer- 
 able. 
 
 —148— 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A CRY THROUGH THE NIGHT. 
 
 HEY sat around the fire that night, 
 planning the capture, each one giving 
 his individual view of how it should be 
 done. Each time Tom's name was men- 
 tioned, the Texans signified their intention of do- 
 ing away with him the first thing they did. The 
 leader said : 
 
 "Suppose we are on all four sides of the 
 house and this gentleman, (meaning Tom) , should 
 step out, with both hands up high, in front of the 
 man who had the drop on him. Then, if another 
 man should walk around the comer of the house 
 and catch sight of him, (meaning Tom) , he should 
 shoot, and shoot to kill. He is not supposed to 
 know or see if the young feller has his hands up. 
 Anyway, they all look alike after it is all over." 
 
 And so the conversation went on until late 
 that night. Silent sitting on his feet with his legs 
 crossed under him. He was not only silent but 
 motionless. His eyes were squinted almost shut 
 and his jawbones protruding out from clenching 
 his teeth so tightly, as he thought of the murder- 
 ous intentions of the Texans. He began to rise, 
 straightening his feet and legs out under him until 
 he arose to his full height. And with emotion that 
 shook his frame, he said : 
 
 "Gentlemen, I am with you, and I intend to 
 
 —144— 
 
A CRY THROUGH THE NIGHT 
 
 stay with you until this thing is over. But I have 
 this to say : *Don*t anybody try to harm this boy 
 >^ hen we find him.' I will go to him and tell him, 
 and he will surrender to me. We will take him to 
 his parents, and what their judgment is, will be 
 done; for I want his mother to speak to him. 
 ^[others don't keep saying the same thing over 
 and over again unless there is something to it." 
 
 The leading Texan rolled over on his side, fac- 
 ing Silent. 
 
 "Well, that livens things up a bit," he said 
 ill a jeering way. "May I ask from what authority 
 you speak?" 
 
 Still standing erect, Silent answered: 
 
 "From a right and left hand, sir ! I can shoot 
 BO fast and so straight, with both hands, that it 
 would take a mathematician two hours to figger 
 out the damage I can do in one minute." 
 
 And Silent stood and no one answered. Those 
 black eyes traveled with flashes as they danced 
 from one Texan to another. And no one moved, 
 as there were only a few moves that could be made 
 tiiat would keep terror from entering the party 
 right there. 
 
 Lying there, the Texans began to think that 
 maybe all the bad men were not registered, and 
 maybe the worst man in the world might slip into 
 The Pleasant Valley unheralded. 
 
 They were all up early the next morning, each 
 one looking eagerly for the return of the trailers, 
 who had been left to watch the cabin the night 
 before. 
 
 ,-145— 
 
SILENT 
 
 "Here they come, boys," said the leader. 
 
 As the trailers rode up it was evident by their 
 actions that there were great things to be told. 
 Something new, something unheard of had hap- 
 pened. When the trailers had all alighted, they 
 gathered in a bunch in front of the leading Texan 
 and made motions that they wanted the inter- 
 preter, who was down in the canyon where the 
 rest of the Indians were camped. One of the oth- 
 er Texans went hurriedly bringing the interpreter, 
 lined him up in front of the leading Texan, and 
 motioned to the trailers, who had gathered a short 
 distance away. 
 
 One of the trailres stepped up quickly, and in 
 a clear, ringing voice, and with scarcely any mo- 
 tions at all, explained that, all thi^ough the night, 
 the woman had lamented and cried. Sometimes 
 the cries were screams, and sometimes she would 
 whimper and cry like a baby when it cries itself 
 to sleep; then the cries would get softer and 
 fainter until they would stop. In about two hours 
 the same thing would happen again. The other 
 trailers grunted and nodded their confirmation of 
 the story as it went on, only when the speaker was 
 telling how the woman whimpered like a child 
 crying itself to sleep, there seemed to be a mix- 
 ture of grunts, and varying opinions as to the ex- 
 act sound. Some would say, "Wuah !" others would 
 say, "Eah !" The story finished with no explana- 
 tion as to the difference of opinion among the 
 trailers. 
 
 —146— 
 
A CRY THROUGH THE NIGHT 
 
 The three Texans looked at Silent and on» 
 said : 
 
 "What have you got to say to that?" 
 
 Silent looked more determined and defiant 
 than before, but said nothing. The Texans could 
 see very plainly that the odds of three to one made 
 no difference with him. 
 
 Everything ready, there was nothing to do 
 but advance cautiously. The three Texans, with 
 Silent, were to surround the cabin and wait for 
 Tom to come out; to leave the house to get water 
 or look after his horse; or anything else that 
 might take him away from Betty; or if they saw 
 any other chance to get them separated. They 
 knew, that, if they tried to get them together, Tom 
 \\'ould make a shield of Betty and get away again. 
 
 So they left their horses and took their re- 
 spective positions as agreed, two on each side of 
 the cabin until they were close enough. Then 
 they divided so as to be on the four sides of the 
 house, Silent being directly in front of the door. 
 There they waited but Tom did not come out. Sil- 
 ent had just begun to think about the girl com- 
 ing out, when out she popped with one of those 
 large, narrow, pointed bonnets on. Silent had 
 just time to raise his eyes when she turned hur- 
 riedly around the corner of the house and went 
 into a shed room. 
 
 Silent gave the signal, as agreed, and step- 
 ped auickly to the front door with a well-cleaned 
 Bnd Dolished six-shooter in each hand. The three 
 Texans rushed up around the house, and the lead- 
 —147— 
 
SI LE N T 
 
 er called out, 
 
 "The jig is up partner ! Come on out and face 
 the music!" 
 
 A.nd then all waited for Tom to come out. 
 But instead, a very excited and high-pitched 
 voice answered. It was the voice of a man, but it 
 did not sound just like Tom's, and it said: 
 
 "Gentlemen, be patient just one minute. No 
 ha*in will come, but I wish to explain. As for 
 myself, I don't care; I am guilty and should be 
 punished ; if you shoot or hang me I will have no 
 complaint. But I have a wife and baby that are 
 just as innocent and pure and sweet as the wild 
 flowers that grow on the hillsides; and before I 
 surrender alive, you must promise me that you 
 will not harm them and will give them a chance in 
 this world after I am gone." 
 
 "Well," said the leader, "I must admit that 
 we are *up a stump.' But the wish you just made 
 will sure be granted, for even we are human be- 
 ings the same as yourself. All we want now is a 
 better explanation. So come on out and let us look 
 at you." 
 
 Out stepped the excited man, with his hands 
 raised high over his head, and subdued murmurs 
 ran through the crowd. The three Texans frown- 
 ed at one another as their trigger-fingers straight- 
 ened out. They showed that they were filled with 
 hate and disappointment. Biit not so with Silent. 
 He tried to look serious, but he could not. He was 
 so happy that it just beamed out all over him. The 
 kind of a man that Silent is doesn't make friends 
 —148— 
 
A CRY THRpUGH THE NIGHT 
 
 very often, or very easily. But, when they do, 
 no power on earth can separate them. If a friend 
 does a wrong deed, as Tom had done, they don't 
 hate him for it, they just hate the incident — the 
 thing that he has done — ^and feel sorry for the 
 friend. But they stick to him through every- 
 thing, to the end. 
 
 When the leader had recovered from the dis- 
 appointment, he recognized the man and under- 
 stood. 
 
 "You are the man who used to make his head- 
 quarters at DeviFs Den." 
 
 The man nodded that he was. Then the lead- 
 er put on a voice such as a former United States 
 marshal should, and asked : 
 
 "What are you a-doin* up here?" 
 
 The man answered, 
 
 "I will tell you all, since you know me. When 
 I was operating out of Devil's Den, my wife lived 
 in Santa Barbara. And when you were reading 
 about the big hauls we were making, my wife was 
 taking in washing for a living; I was unable to 
 support her. It is true that we did make some big 
 hauls, but there was so much cutting up to do, so 
 many people had to be in on it before we could 
 pull a job and get away with it, that there was just 
 enough left for each of us to live on until we pulled 
 another. And believe me, starvation generally 
 drove us to the next job. 
 
 "Listen, friends, when the gang was broken 
 
 "Listen, friends, when the gang was broken up 
 and people were flocking into the Devils' den to dig 
 —149— 
 
SILENT 
 
 outlaws, I was in Santa Barbara, taking from my 
 wife the few nickels and dimes she had washed 
 for. I wouldn't work, as I thought I was a bad 
 man and could make a living that way. But there 
 is no use ; it can't be done. I sold my horse, saddle 
 and guns, and with that and the money we got for 
 our little home, we bought stock and seed, and 
 here we are, three of the most grateful and happy 
 people in all the world." 
 
 The leader said, "Amen." 
 
 And the others nodded their approval. 
 
 The leader then handed the man a letter and 
 said: 
 
 "Here is a letter to you from the other sur- 
 vivor. I picked it up at the Den." 
 
 The man took the letter, and as the party 
 turned away, he picked up his teething baby boy, 
 who had cried all the night before, took his little 
 hand and waved a farewell to the four mysterious 
 strangers. Silent, being the only one in that 
 mood, waved good bye to the baby boy and his 
 father. As they rode down the mountain to the 
 camp, Silent was thinking: 
 
 "Maybe men like the one we have just left 
 have been murdered without a chance by blood- 
 thirsty man-hunters." 
 
 And his determination to protect Tom was 
 strengthened. 
 
 So he began to ponder as they rode on : 
 
 "What's in a name? Only a mark of distinc- 
 tion. It is better to be remembered by noble deeds 
 than by name. What a good and noble man that 
 —150— 
 
A CRY THROUGH THE NIGHT 
 
 was, ready and willing to die for only a promise 
 of protection for the ones he loved? Did this man 
 have that power of love and self-sacrifice when he 
 was an outlaw in the outlaw's camp? Time has 
 answered the question "yes." He certainly did and 
 was only awaiting the development of home love. 
 
 Silent knew that the next move of the Tex- 
 ans would be to get him out of the way. The first 
 thing they said after they arrived at camp was : 
 
 "Now, what are you a-goin' to do?" 
 
 Silent answered that he was going to do 
 whatever they did. So the leader ordered him to 
 get up the pack mules and pack up. The Texans 
 lay on the grass, watching the job. Everything 
 ready, they ignored Silent entirely and started on 
 the way home. 
 
 Trailing along behind, alone and meditating. 
 Silent decided that the Texans would make it very 
 dangerous and unpleasant for him from now on. 
 And, taking his hat in his left hand and with his 
 right hand raised, he looked straight up into the 
 heavens above him and made a solemn vow that 
 he would be there and demand a square deal when 
 the boy was captured. 
 
 -^161— 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 "DAMNING AND DESTROYING." 
 
 mm 
 
 |0M was happy to know that Betty took 
 things in a matter-of-fact way. He de- 
 cided that everything would come out all 
 right, and that he would stock up the 
 place and stay right there, as he knew there 
 would be a big price on his head, dead or alive. 
 He also knew that every person would swear to 
 avenge the wrong. Even the newcomers, who had 
 arrived since he left, would be treated and intro- 
 duced to that hideous, poisonous reptile, scandal, 
 until they would be ready to shoot him on sight. 
 
 He knew that the geographical location he had 
 selected would fool them all. The only way to find 
 him was to track him and he knew that was im- 
 possible. So the only thing for him to do was to 
 wait until the heat of the incident had cooled off. 
 Then he would venture out, get his stock, chick- 
 ens and the like, and go to living right. 
 
 Betty summed up her own situation : Where- 
 ever she was she had not the least idea, and it did 
 not matter now, as the burning thought in her 
 mind was: 
 
 What would people say about her? Could it 
 ever be stopped?" 
 
 Anything to her would be a welcome visitor 
 beside the terrible things they would say! And 
 she prayed that she be spared, if necessary by 
 
 ^152— 
 
"DAMNING AND DESTROYING" 
 
 death, from that villainous, sickening monster, 
 scandal. 
 
 She realized that, by now, it was possible that 
 everyone was talking about her. How could she 
 face it? That one thing troubled her day and 
 night; for she knew that, from its lashing tongue, 
 tJiere was no mercy, no pity. 
 
 The caravan of Indians and Texans returned, 
 aid pitched camp between Mr. Ash*s and the house 
 : Aron Bear. Silent rode up in front of the kitch- 
 e 1 door. Mr. and Mrs. Bear came out, and without 
 getting off his horse. Silent related the experiences 
 of the night before, except for his declaration to 
 protect Tom, when they thought they had Betty 
 a ad Tom located. Then Aron and his wife walked 
 over to the camp to look the outfit over, and 
 to learn if they had made plans for the future; 
 also whether they were in any way doubtful of the 
 success of the hunt. 
 
 The Texans assured Mr. Bear that the only 
 thing that stood between them and success was 
 time, and that another week, if not less, would fin- 
 it h the job. Susan then noticed Mr. and Mrs. Ash 
 coming that way, and she asked Aron to take her 
 home, which he did. 
 
 The Texans were too proud to admit that the 
 silent gentleman "had them going" in a way. They 
 could not figure just what to do with him right 
 now ; but they certainly knew what they would do 
 w ith him after the capture was made. 
 
 The posmaster was changing his ways rap- 
 idly. The Texans were not an object of interest 
 —153— 
 
SILENT 
 
 any more. He talked more with the preacher now, 
 and listened to his kindly advice. Every night, 
 when the neighbors and customers gathered in the 
 post office and the exchanges of the day were 
 passed, the conversation would never fail to center 
 on that one thing. But the instant the kidnaping 
 incident was mentioned, the preacher would al- 
 ways get up, bid them all good night and go home. 
 Now that the postmaster had lost all interest in 
 the scandal, he would go back into the corner, 
 where the little post office really was, as soon as 
 the preacher had left. There he would thumb over 
 the mail and wonder why the people who never got 
 any mail were always asking for it, and the folks 
 who got lots of mail seldom called for it. 
 
 A big Missouri rancher, who had come out 
 west with the postmaster, called him out of the 
 little office and asked him what the matter was 
 with the preacher, remarking that he had noticed 
 that, every time the crowd began to talk about 
 the kidnaping, or anything else like that, the 
 preacher would leave. 
 
 "He is right," said the posmaster. "What a 
 wonderful world it would be if we would all do 
 that ! Just think, neighbors, what it would mean, 
 what happiness it would create! What harmony 
 we would have if we could all say good night when 
 unpleasant conversations come up. 
 
 "There was a woman by the name of Preston, 
 in North Carolina, who once said that Mrs. Dowd 
 did not get along well with her children. What 
 she meant was that some of the children were sick 
 
"DAMNING AND DESTROYING" 
 
 nearly all the time. But by the time this story 
 reached Mrs. Dowd, it sounded different. Mrs. 
 Dowd thought she was accused of quarreling with 
 her children, and she made a remark about Mrs. 
 Preston. Soon the two were thinking of all the 
 mean things they could to say of each other. And 
 from that remark started the Preston-Dowd feud, 
 in which, up to date, over one hundred people have 
 lost their lives. 
 
 "Let me tell you, fellers, I am with the 
 preacher, heart, soul and body; and from now on, 
 folks, when you are thinking and talking evil 
 about somebody, take it outside and do it all to 
 yourself. We will all be better off without it. 
 Tlie preacher is sure a good man, fellers. He 
 don't blame anybody for anything they do. The 
 worst thing I ever heard him say about anyone 
 was that some people do not go very deeply into 
 this worldly life. They live very shallow, ready 
 to damn nnd destroy or praise and reward, with- 
 out a serious thought. Let Us all think more 
 about the preacher and what he says." 
 
 Back on the hill-top, Tom was leaving one 
 morning on one of his regular trips. His feet 
 were all tied up in barley sacks to avoid making 
 tracks. He would go over on the edge of the hill 
 leading down into the valley and watch, to see if 
 h(^ could discover how much activity there was in 
 the valley and in that way, learn how many peo- 
 ple were looking for him. He could distinguish 
 endless numbers, and as he knew nothing of the 
 Indians, he had decided that the entire country, 
 —155— 
 
SILENT 
 
 every settler, and even the outlaws at Devils* Den, 
 were after him. He knew that the odds were ter- 
 rible, but he assured himself that they would not 
 find him, but would get tired after awhile and all 
 go back home and forget. 
 
 Betty asked him that morning to leave the 
 rifle with her. She wanted to shoot chicken 
 hawks, so that, when they got their chickens, 
 there would be no hawks to get them. She said 
 she had seen hawks flying at a distance. 
 
 "And it will be distance," said Tom, pointing 
 up into a tree. "That little mother up there is not 
 going to let a hawk get near those little mocking 
 bird babies of hers. She would die first." 
 
 Just then they saw a large hawk soaring in 
 the distance, his ravenous eyes searching the tree- 
 tops for unprotected young ones of any kind. 
 When the little mother spied the hooked bill of 
 the hawk, with his claws hanging down, ready to 
 grasp anything he saw, she gave a little warn- 
 ing sound and the young birds huddled down in 
 the bottom of the nest, very quiet. Then the 
 mother started to meet the intruder, flying very 
 high. When she was directly over the hawk, the 
 latter saw her and turned to go the other way. 
 But it was too late; the little mother folded her 
 wings and darted like an arrow, right down on 
 top of the intruder, and out came a feather from 
 the hawk's head. Again she darted and again 
 came a feather from the retreating hawk. 
 
 Betty and Tom watched the uneven battle in 
 which the hawk had no chance at the little bird, 
 — 156— 
 
"DAMNING AND DESTROYING" 
 
 which remained above his head all the time. When 
 the bird and the hawk were out of sight, Betty 
 remarked that the bird was right and that right 
 always won. 
 
 Tom was thinking about what Betty had just 
 said and wondering if right would always win, 
 when the little mother came back. A chirp brought 
 the little birds* heads up, mouths open, ready to 
 receive the worm that the mother had gathered 
 on her way back. And Tom thought : 
 
 "Isn't it funny ? The mother never for an in- 
 stant forgets her young." 
 
 Then, as he thought of the power of a moth- 
 er's love, he said : 
 
 "I'll bet she located that worm when she was 
 fighting that hawk." 
 
 At that instant the thought was transmitted 
 to him some way that his own mother, in a way, 
 was like that bird ; that she was with him, as ever. 
 And he seemed to know that she believed in him 
 and would always be with him. At the happy 
 thought he chuckled with delight, right out loud. 
 Betty looked at him and in astonishment discov- 
 ered that tears were streaming from his eyes. 
 Was he crying or laughing? He would not say, 
 but excused himself by saying that he must be 
 going to his lookout station to see what was go- 
 ing on in the valley. 
 
 —157— 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A HIGH RESOLVE. 
 
 [HE conversations around the post office 
 changed like magic. Everybody talked 
 about good things, which brought with 
 it the fruit, which is "thought." That 
 was good, and soon everybody thought much more 
 of one another's company. The church attendance 
 became one hundred per cent. And the preacher 
 visited and talked with the people at the store un- 
 til they were all ready to say good night. He 
 would thank them for attending his church and 
 say it made no difference about the denomination. 
 If they would all think about good and heavenly 
 things, they would soon be all the same, anyway. 
 
 And the postmaster said to the preacher one 
 day: 
 
 "Wasn't that the easiest thing to do ? People 
 are naturally good Uke that. All they need is one 
 good man, whom they like and have confidence in, 
 to guide them in the right way. They sure learn 
 fast; so did I." 
 
 And he thought of the change in his own self. 
 
 It was in the spring when Betty was myster- 
 iously taken from her home, and now it was fall — 
 almost seven months. The same monotonous hap- 
 penings of the day before were happening every 
 day. She was positive that, when she did not re- 
 turn after the third day, she would be blamed. 
 —158— 
 
w 
 
 A HIGH RESOLVE 
 
 They would condemn her from that day. They 
 would say she could have kept the boy from pick- 
 ing her up, if she had wanted to, and that she could 
 have gotten away the next day and walked home. 
 Her own people would be saying these same things 
 about her — she knew them only too well. 
 
 As she sat there in front of the smoky chim- 
 ney, meditating, with palms on her cheeks and 
 elbows on her knees, Tom came from his lookout 
 station and quietly entered the cabin. Betty jump- 
 ed and said, in a voice not altogether kind: 
 
 *'Tom, you frighten me, slipping up that way 
 with those old sacks on your feet! And, Tom, I 
 am not like I used to be. I am getting so that I get 
 all fussed up about little things. Besides that, I 
 don't feel well at times. You know that it snows 
 up in these mountains, and it is getting along to- 
 ward that time of the year, I think, for the squir- 
 rels ar^ so busy, packing their little mouths full of 
 nuts and taking them up and putting them in a 
 hole in that big tree. All that reminds me so 
 much, Tom, of what will happen up here if we get 
 Ciiught in the snow, no doctors, no grannies, no 
 medicine, nothing." 
 
 She turned toward him appealingly and asked 
 him to bring her some slippery-elm bark, so that 
 she could dry it and have it ready. Tom said he 
 would go to the creek bottom the first thing in 
 the morning and get the bark. And then, for the 
 first time, Tom began a review of the things that 
 he had done ; and there came to him a strict real- 
 ization of what he was doing now. He looked at 
 
SILENT 
 
 Betty and he could notice that she did look bad and 
 worn. He wondered what there was that he could 
 do; and he asked her what else she needed be- 
 sides the bark. 
 
 "Oh, nothing," said Betty. 
 
 But it did not sound to Tom as if she meant 
 nothing. There was some meaning back of that 
 "nothing," and he must find out what it was. 
 
 Next morning he came back with the bark, 
 and as usual, slipped up on his sacked feet, to find 
 Betty crying. 
 
 "Now, Betty, tell me," he said. 
 
 He knew now what it was, but he wanted her 
 to tell him. He wanted more encouragement, and 
 he wanted it from her. He put the bark away and 
 started for his lookout station. There he could see 
 the hunters, riding back and forth. He knew they 
 were after him with orders to shoot on sight ; and 
 back he trudged to the lonely cabin. 
 
 The two families were getting discouraged 
 and wanted to give up the hunt. But the Texans 
 kept a messenger on the way all the time, giving 
 glowing reports of fresh evidence ; of new and en- 
 couraging things they were finding, in order to 
 keep things bolstered up so that they could con- 
 tinue the hunt. For they certainly wanted to find 
 Tom. 
 
 Up early the next morning, Tom started to get 
 breakfast. Betty immediately informed him that 
 he was out of place ; and that it made no difference 
 how they happened to be there, it was her place 
 to get the meals, and she was going to do it. Af- 
 
 —160— 
 
A HIGH RESOLVE 
 
 t(»r breakfast, Tom left for his lookout post, and 
 there he saw the same hurrying in and out. Only 
 today there seemed to be more men and they rode 
 faster; he knew that the excitement must be 
 greater, and he knew what that meant — less 
 chance for him. 
 
 The time was coming for the "show down," 
 and he knew it. For he could no longer stand the 
 sufferings of the one he loved so dearly. And how 
 h«i did blame himself for the things that he had 
 done, and for some he had not done! He was riot 
 afraid to take the chances, but he was fearful of 
 one thing; that was of being killed by strangers, 
 without the slightest chance to explain to his 
 mother or father. He did want to tell them so 
 badly that his father's intention to institute a 
 crusade of extermination against the Ash family, 
 on that fatal morning, had made him act as he had 
 the night before. If he could just tell them that, 
 he did not care for the rest. 
 
 He came back to the cabin that night. 
 Cliarley was standing in front of the door, wait- 
 ing for him, and after caressing and talking horse 
 talk awhile to him, Tom went into the shack. 
 B(5tty looked more pitiful than ever before; and 
 as he looked at her, he said to himself: 
 
 "I will do it. I don't care what the cost is, 
 or how big the odds are, I am going to do it." 
 
 As he had never done anything much without 
 
 the assistance of Charley, he asked Betty how the 
 
 horse had been acting lately. She said that he 
 
 seomed to be full of play, and that she believed he 
 
 —161— 
 
SILENT 
 
 would get too fat on that good grass were it not 
 that he played so hard just to keep in good con- 
 dition. 
 
 "And when I am out in the woods walking," 
 she said, "he will come up to me and push me with 
 his nose, and then run and kick up his heels, as 
 much as to say, *Catch me if you can.' He is just 
 the dear old darling horse that he has been since 
 we have been up here." 
 
 Tom felt his mind fill with pity for Betty. He 
 w6uld give everything now to restore her to her 
 former place, unharmed. His life or the life of his 
 horse was nothing compared to her safety. Out 
 he went again to the lookout station, and there 
 he could see the man-hunters coming and going as 
 before, 
 
 Tom did not tell Betty of his intentions, as 
 he knew that she realized the dangers just as well 
 as he did ; and that was enough. He was not going 
 to frighten her with his plans; but he steadily 
 made preparations for the dash — to what? He 
 could not tell, but he had fully decided to try. 
 
 He went out and called Charley, who came 
 on the run. After the usual greetings between 
 them, Tom began to comb the horse's mane and 
 tail out until he had them clean and beautiful; 
 each hair was standing out by itself. Then he led 
 the horse to the saddle and put on the shoes he 
 had taken off when they arrived at the shack. 
 
 Charley began to realize that something was 
 going to happen, and whatever it was, it was ser- 
 ious, for in all his life he had never seen Tom act 
 —162— 
 
A HIGH RESOLVE 
 
 SO earnestly. He knew that more was going to 
 be expected of him than ever before; and he 
 thanked his Creator for in all his life he had 
 never felt so strong and able as now. So, what- 
 ever the demand on his body was to be, he knew 
 it was going to be fulfilled. 
 
 Tom wanted Charley to wear his shoes a few 
 days so that he would be accustomed to them 
 v^hen the trial came. Three more days at the 
 lookout station convinced Tom that they did not 
 intend to abandon the search. He asked about 
 Charley again, and Betty told him that the horse 
 had a new play now, since the shoes were on 
 agam; that he would take a few quick jumps, 
 squat like a cat, then jump just as high as he 
 could and twist himself until his bones cracked. 
 
 "And," she continued, "he will be running, 
 and, as if something unforeseen had appeared in 
 front of him, he will leap high in the air." 
 And again she asked the same question : 
 "Tom, why did you put the shoes back on 
 Charley? Please tell me. I must know." 
 
 Tom could keep his secret no longer; so he 
 told Betty of his intention of going home. He said 
 that, if they did not kill him outright, he would 
 live in a dying condition to tell his parents what 
 he wanted to, and, at the same time, clear away 
 the cloud that was hanging over her. He said 
 he believed that he could slip right home, and, at 
 tie worst, would get to tell his tale. He told her 
 that Silent had explained to him how hard it was 
 —163— 
 
SILENT 
 
 to kill a man outright ; neariy always a man lived 
 to talk after he had been mortally wounded." 
 
 Betty said, "No, there is no such thing go- 
 ing to be done." 
 
 She suggested that they go the other way, 
 toward the coast, until they found settlements, 
 Tom explained to her that that would not do. 
 
 "By this time," he said, "they have notified 
 all the settlements to be on the lookout for us. 
 And we might both be hung, as mob law is not 
 particular what it does, and that is the only kind 
 of law we have here." 
 
 Betty then said that she would go home and 
 try to fix things for them both. 
 
 But Tom said, "No ! I would rather suffer a 
 hundred deaths than to be humiliated like that. 
 Never will I take refuge behind a woman. Even 
 my mother would not forgive that." 
 
 What was he going to do? He knew that it 
 would almost kill Betty to see him start, and he 
 knew that it would be just as bad for him to leave 
 her there alone. So he decided on a new plan. 
 He got up quietly the next morning, long before 
 daylight, and slipped out, leaving Betty asleep. 
 He saddled and bridled Charley, gave him a big 
 long, affectionate hug, and whispered and whis- 
 pered to him, Charley listening as if he under- 
 stood. Then quietly slipping back into the shack, 
 Tom kissed Betty on the top of her head for fear 
 of waking her, kissed the bed clothes and the 
 clothes she wore, picked up her little slippers and 
 hugged them tightly to his breast; and with a 
 —164— 
 
A HIGH RESOLVE 
 
 fond, appealing look at Betty, departed, waving 
 good bye to Charley as he passed. Poor Charley ! 
 His feelings were hurt. He, the one who would 
 be so proud to sacrifice his life for the protection 
 of his master, left behind with reins tied to a 
 tree! 
 
 He chewed his bit and he stamped the ground 
 and gnawed the bark off the tree. Tom had taken 
 the big, heavy belt of cartridges that the horse 
 used to carry on the saddle; and that convinced 
 Charley that Tom was not coming back. But 
 why? the horse reasoned. And, as he was think- 
 ing, he remembered the little woman who was 
 asleep in the shack. He knew, as he had always 
 known before, that there was another and greater 
 task for him. And he wished for it to come 
 quickly, as never before had he been so full of 
 strength to give and ambition to do. 
 
 Then he thought ; 
 
 "She will get up this morning and see Charley 
 tied in front with the saddle and bridle on. And 
 she will think that I am at the lookout station, 
 but will return in the afternoon to make my start 
 on the horse. It will spare her for some time, 
 and whatever the news is, she will get it all at 
 once, and will not be punished with fear and sus- 
 pense for so lohg." 
 
 "When she gets on Charley she must and will 
 know how to prepare, for he alone knows the 
 short-cut home. Nothing will be able to catch him 
 when she lets him go. I have done all I can for 
 her." 
 
 —165— 
 
SILENT 
 
 He was walking down the hill, taking the 
 short-cut home ; and was getting down toward the 
 flat of the valley, where he must soon come out 
 in the open, when he noticed a snake crossing his 
 path. As he was approaching too near, the snake 
 coiled and made ready to give battle. Down came 
 the rifle from his shoulder with the thought, "the 
 first practice today." As he raised the rifle the 
 snake looked him right in the eye, without fear. 
 As his fingers gently touched the trigger, he 
 thought: 
 
 "Poor thing! Ready to fight and no chance 
 to win! The odds are all against you, and your 
 chances are none." 
 
 As he was thus thinking, his mind reverted 
 to himself; he compared his chance with that of 
 the snake. And as the snake, deciding that the 
 intruder did not want to fight, went crawling on 
 his way, Tom said, 
 
 "Goodby, partner, we are two of a kind. Come 
 down some time and see me, crawl over the place 
 where they put me." 
 
 And on Tom went to the valley below. 
 
 —166— 
 
CHAPTER XVL 
 
 THE HOME-COMING. 
 
 HE Texans must find Tom in order to 
 keep up the foolish war between Aron 
 and Dave, and in that way, retain their 
 good home. Silent had heard the Tex- 
 ans trying to keep up the interest of the Indians 
 by telling them that the boy had said that he in- 
 tended to kill every Indian who was hunting for 
 him. They instructed the Indians to shoot as 
 soon as they laid eyes on him. On that account 
 Silent had changed his position. Instead of trail- 
 ing behind, he was riding ahead with the vow up- 
 on his lips to see Tom first, and to protect him 
 after he saw him. 
 
 The Texans were getting desperate, as fail- 
 are to find Tom would lose them their homes in 
 that beautiful, pleasant valley they loved so 
 much. But it was agreed among them that, if 
 they lost out on this deal, they would buy a ranch 
 there and settle down. 
 
 It was afternoon and they were moving 
 camp. They had made the entire circle around 
 the country back to where they had started. Silent 
 was riding ahead, determined and scanning ev- 
 erything in sight, his eyes penetrating the dis- 
 tance, with almost the power of a telescope, when 
 like a flash, he flopped on his horse's side with his 
 Kuns drawn and facing the Texans behind him. 
 —167— 
 
SILENT 
 
 "Fellows," he said, "there is that boy. If 
 you want to be square, I will disarm him and you 
 can march the two of us into camp." 
 
 The Texans agreed, as they had not seen Tom 
 yet. Silent's horse marched directly to the boy, 
 who was crouched behind some bushes, ready to 
 do battle with whatever came. He saw the horse 
 coming his way, apparently riderless, until at 
 last when he discovered the rider in that famil- 
 iar position, he knew it was Silent. Tom laid his 
 gun down and waited; and there he met that 
 friend of friends. He did not cry; he was too 
 much of a man now; but he had no control over 
 two little streams that trickled down over his 
 cheeks. 
 
 As the Texans rode along some distance be- 
 hind, the leader said : 
 
 "Say, boys, what do you think of that flip- 
 flop? Wasn't it a peach? Got the boy skinned! 
 Had them *gats* right on us before we knew what 
 was a-goin* on!" 
 
 Then with a revengeful laugh, he added : 
 
 "Three hard nuts come all the way from 
 Texas, break up the worst gang of outlaws that 
 ever got together, and then let two *nesters* show 
 us somethin' new in fancy fightinM Just about 
 *gets' me! Wish Td seen him first! It would 
 'a-ben a different story." 
 
 And the much dissatisfied leader mumbled his 
 disgust as they followed slowly behind. 
 
 Silent hurriedly explained to Tom that he 
 was to disarm, and that the two would be escorted 
 —168— 
 
THE HOME-COMING 
 
 in by the Texans. He took Tom's gun and laid 
 it on the ground, put Tom on the horse and 
 mounted behind him, and then awaited the com- 
 ing of the Texans. When they arrived he told 
 the leader to get Tom's gun, and asked them to 
 keep a respectable distance behind them. Then he 
 signaled that they were ready to proceed. Tom 
 \ms in the lead and going home. What a home- 
 coming it was! 
 
 Everything was going fine, the Texans 
 talking more and louder and riding closer and 
 closer, until Silent raised his hand as if giving 
 warning. 
 
 The leader said abruptly: "What d'ye want?" 
 
 Silent answered that he had carried out his 
 end of the agreement, fair and square, and asked 
 if they would please not crowd him so, as the boy 
 v/as getting nervous. At the same time Silent 
 urged his horse on faster, and when they had 
 gained a little headway, he remarked to Tom that 
 he lad two six-shooters and a Winchester rifle, 
 and he could not use them all at once. But, in 
 case of an accident, he sure would like to see his 
 guni well manned. Tom knew what Silent meant 
 and iaid: 
 
 *I understand." 
 
 He added that, whatever happened, Betty was 
 vvell protected, as he had left Charley, tied to a 
 ti'ee in front of their shack, saddled and bridled 
 and ready to go. 
 
 "Why didn't you say so before?" asked Sil- 
 eat. "We will plan to get word to her and get her 
 —169— 
 
SILENT 
 
 home as soon as possible. This small Texan is 
 square and game and you can trust him. Let's 
 ask him if he will go after her." 
 
 Silent raised his hand again and, address- 
 ing the small one, made the request. Yes, they 
 were all willing; the small one said that he had 
 the best horse and was ready to go right now. 
 As Tom got down on the ground, Silent was look- 
 ing three ways at the same time. Tom gave the 
 small one the complete geography of the hills, and 
 with pencil and paper, directed him to where Betty 
 and the horse were. He told the man to tell Betty 
 that he (Tom), was all right and on his way 
 home; and to tell her to tie herself on the horse 
 and turn Charley loose — the horse knew the short- 
 cut and would come home. 
 
 The Texan left on the run, as he knew that 
 he must ride hard to give Betty time to get home 
 before night. The tension was greatly relieved 
 now, as Tom and Silent both knew there was no 
 danger in even numbers. 
 
 On to the house the party went, Tom was liv- 
 ing for just one thing, and that was to make a 
 complete confession to his mother and father. 
 
 Silent went directly to Mr. Bear for instruc- 
 tions. 
 
 Aron said that he never wanted to lay eyes 
 upon his boy again, and he refused to let Mrs. 
 Bear see him either. He told Silent to get Mr, 
 Ash and they would decide together what to do. 
 Silent told Tom that his duty, as man to man, had 
 —170— 
 
THE HOME-COMING 
 
 been fulfilled, and that he had promised Tom's 
 j'ather to follow his orders. 
 
 "As far as you are concerned, Tom," he said, 
 *'I am still with you until your requests conflict 
 with the orders of your father." 
 
 And Tom could see that Silent was right, ac- 
 (x)rding to the laws of seniority. 
 
 Tom saw Mr. Ash coming, but he knew that 
 it would be useless to confess to him. His only 
 desire then was that Betty get there safe and 
 ^vell. She would be able to make the confession 
 lor him. Dave Ash arrived in a fit of rage; and 
 when Silent explained everything that had hap- 
 j)ened, and that the Texan had gone after the girl, 
 Dave Ash exclaimed: 
 
 "You're all a set of fools! None of you has 
 l,^ot any sense! That boy just wanted to get rid 
 of you one at a time 'til he'd have a chance to get 
 away again. The idea of sending for Betty ! No I 
 If she's not dead, he's sold her to some of them 
 ininers for gold, or hired her out to 'em. And, 
 ]ike as not, he was on his way back for another 
 one to sell." 
 
 And with that Dave walked up and gave Tom 
 a kick. 
 
 Tom said nothing. No one said anything, 
 but Silent's hands began working like someone 
 1 eeling or groping for something in the dark. That 
 was too much ! He could not stand it ! He walked 
 MP in front of Mr. Ash, and so close that their 
 ])odies were touching each other. 
 
 "Mr. Ash, don't do that any more," he said. 
 —171— 
 
SILENT 
 
 "Hit me if you want to, but don't hit that boy. 
 He is a prisoner, and will probably be hung; but 
 it will be done right." 
 
 Now right here is an example of thinking. 
 The worst thoughts possible were entertained and 
 drove Dave insane for the moment, almost caus- 
 ing him to get the top of his head blown off by 
 SUent. 
 
 It was noticeable that Dave's action did not 
 "set" well with the Indians, who immediately 
 changed their attitude toward Silent. And a few 
 passing ranchers, who had stopped to see the 
 lynching, openly remarked that such stuff "did 
 not go" at all, which created a very unpleasant 
 situation. 
 
 Then the leading Texan stepped in and said 
 that he had been instructed by Mr. Ash and Mr. 
 Bear to take charge of the case. He said that he 
 would see fair play, and would also see that the 
 prisoner did not escape. And forthwith he pro- 
 ceeded to bind, gag and blindfold the prisoner. 
 
 Before the gag was placed in his mouth, Tom 
 requested that he be allowed to whisper a few 
 words to Silent. The Talking Indian heard the re- 
 quest and said, very loudly, "Yes." 
 
 All the Indians repeated, "Yes." 
 
 The leading Texan looked around, and when 
 he saw the determined look on those bronze faces, 
 he said "yes," also. 
 
 The Indian brought Silent from the kitchen 
 where he had gone to comfort Tom's mother, and 
 as Silent stepped up to Tom, everything was still. 
 —172— 
 
THE HOME-COMING 
 
 There was no sound except the one coming from 
 the kitchen, where Mrs. Bear was sobbing and 
 saying, as if talking to her baby: 
 
 "No, no! My boy didn't do it! He couldn't 
 do it! He was such a good boy! He couldn't do 
 anything wrong! No, no, no, no!" 
 
 Silent asked Tom what the request was, at 
 the same time cautioning him that it must not 
 conflict with his father's orders. Tom said he un- 
 derstood, and it was no secret. They could get 
 his father's permission before going. All he 
 wanted was the minister. Silent answered that 
 110 man would refuse a request like that, his voice 
 thowing that it would do no good for anyone to 
 lefuse. Then Silent asked fair play until he re- 
 turned with the preacher. And in a short time 
 there was only a fog of dust to show that Silent 
 ^ms riding for life. 
 
 Little groups gathered around the house, and 
 it looked very bad at times. The Indians, after 
 seeing Silent's attitude of fair play and square 
 dealing, changed their minds completely about 
 him. They were with him and they agreed with 
 one another that there would be nothing done 
 with the boy until the "No Talk Man" came back. 
 
 Silent knew that he must hurry for several 
 reasons. One was that the sentiment might 
 ( hange and they would decide not to wait for him. 
 Another was that he wanted to get back before 
 ]3etty, as he thought the situation would be worse 
 when she arrived. He knew that, if there hap- 
 pened to be a mix-up there were at least two men 
 —173— 
 
SILENT 
 
 there who would shoot Tom, blindfolded as he 
 was. He also knew that he had to ride fast to 
 beat Charley, for he was one of the two who knew 
 Charley. Besides, he knew that the little Texan 
 would get to where Betty was at about the time 
 he had started for the preacher ; and he knew that, 
 to win the race, he must ride fast and manage to 
 save his horse for the return. 
 
 As he rode on he thought : 
 
 "Poor girl! If she gives that horse the rein 
 and lets him go, she will not be able to ride him. 
 Or, if she does ride him, it will take her breath 
 away; for he will jump canyons that will scare 
 her to death." 
 
 As he rode on, he thought of schemes for 
 different ways of saving her. At the same mo- 
 ment Tom was thinking of the same thing. Two 
 minds, with the power of unselfish love and truth, 
 were concentrated on the same thing. 
 
 —174— 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SHE WHISPERED IN HIS EAR AND HE UN- 
 DERSTOOD, 
 
 IHE small Texan arrived at the shack in 
 good time. Betty was outside talking to 
 Charley. Alighting and taking off his 
 
 hat, he walked up to her and said: 
 
 ''Don't look so sad, Miss Betty. We captured 
 Tom and he is now on his way to your house, dis- 
 armed and well guarded." 
 
 Betty was in the saddle by the time these 
 v/ords were spoken. 
 
 "Don't be in a hurry," said the Texan, as 
 he took off his cartridge belt and told Betty to 
 buckle it tightly around her. 
 
 Then he took the saddle strings and tied 
 them in the belt from every angle. The cinch 
 was tight; and he hobbled the stirrups, as he 
 saw that Tom had shortened them. He asked 
 Betty if she was ready to go. She took off her 
 little poke bonnet, and turning it backwards, blind- 
 folding herself, tied it on that way. And then she 
 told the Texan to take off the bridle. She then took 
 a firm grip of Charley's mane with her left hand, 
 and with her right slapped him on the shoulder and 
 told him to go. Heaven help her ! He went! On the 
 first jump, the horse sprang so quickly and so 
 tiir that the Texan had not recovered from the 
 surprise until the horse with his bound and blind- 
 
SILENT 
 
 folded rider, was gone. And all there was left 
 to tell which way the horse had gone, was a roar- 
 ing and crashing of timbers, and upturned stones, 
 which were rolling down the mountain-side. 
 
 Guiding her body to follow the horse as best 
 she could, with her left hand clenched tightly in 
 his long mane, Betty did not care or could not 
 see, but she knew that she was going. Charley 
 would take a few short jumps, crouching for a 
 leap across a canyon. It was then she would get 
 breath enough to scream at the top of her voice: 
 
 "Go, Charley, go!" 
 
 It was the first and only time in the horse's 
 life that he had been urged to go, and he went. 
 The small Texan said to himself. 
 
 "It sounds like a storm in the mountains, that 
 horse a-goin' that way. I never heared a horse 
 make so much noise before. And, if I didn't know 
 it was a horse, I wouldn't believe it." 
 
 The crowd at the Bear ranch was getting very 
 large. Nearly everybody was there, even the 
 postmaster, who called the two families together, 
 and in loud tones, so that Tom could hear, he told 
 them not to get excited, that God was Love and 
 Justice to all. 
 
 Just then the leading Texan spoke up, inter- 
 rupting the postmaster, and said that they had 
 better do something. He added that there was a 
 storm in the mountains; it was getting late and 
 the storm was coming that way. Already the 
 wind was blowing hard, and they had better de- 
 cide upon some action. Most of the people took a 
 
 —176— 
 
SHE WHISPERED IN HIS EAR and HE UNDERSTOOD 
 
 look and some of them said that a tornado was 
 coming hke fury toward them. The leader got 
 liis field glasses, the ones he had used to hunt the 
 outlaws with, and after a long and careful look, 
 he took the glasses down, rubbed his eyes, and 
 iooked again carefully. Then he exclaimed that 
 it was a horse and he thought that something or 
 jjomebody was on it. 
 
 "Can it be possible ?" they all remarked. 
 
 To satisfy them the leader let all who wanted 
 1:0 take a look. Most of the time there was noth- 
 :ng to see but the cloud of dust, and they still 
 )naintained that it was a tornado without clouds. 
 
 Tom knew mighty well what it was, but he 
 was gagged and could not tell. He blessed the 
 whole world and all that was in it, for he knew 
 that, when Betty was on this side of the moun- 
 tains, the roughtest part of the trail was over. 
 .\nd he also knew, from what they were saying, 
 that Charley was coming to suit himself. But 
 how could Betty stand it ? What saved her? 
 ^hen he remembered what the postmaster had 
 said, and he tried to speak aloud through his 
 , ?ag. He could almost be heard to say : 
 
 "God is Love!" 
 
 By this time they had all had a look at the 
 liorse and they believed that a miracle was about 
 ^:o happen — that the Lord was sending a mes- 
 senger to them. The horse was coming with the 
 wind and dust. Sometimes, on good footing, the 
 horse would lead the dust, and again, he would 
 be swallowed up in it. But they could hear tht 
 —177— 
 
SILENT 
 
 constant roar from his striking hoofs, the crashing 
 of the timber, and the sound of the loose rocks, 
 falling below. 
 
 On came the horse! At times it would be a 
 dead heat with the dust, just the horse's head 
 and nostrils showing. Then he gained a little 
 and they could see his neck and shoulders. Now 
 he was leading the cloud of dust and wind, and 
 the piston-like movements of his fore-arms showed 
 him grasping frantically at the ground ahead. 
 
 He struck the level valley and Betty knew. 
 She pulled her bonnet off her eyes and looked. She 
 knew she was passing objects, but she could not 
 distinguish them, one from another, as everything 
 seemed to blend together in one long streak, until, 
 like a steaming, seething, frothing monster, 
 Charley halted in front of the door. 
 
 Betty called: "Cut me loose!" 
 
 And she was cut loose. 
 
 The leading Texan handed her his best six- 
 shooter, and pointing inside, said: 
 
 "Go in there and use it." 
 
 Betty walked in, gun in hand. Mr. Ash 
 pointed to Tom and said : 
 
 "There he is. Plug him!" 
 
 Mr. Bear covered his ears and his eyes. Mrs. 
 Bear dropped on her knees to pray, while Mrs. 
 Ash exclaimed, 
 
 "How the poor thing has suffered!" 
 
 Betty recognized the situation instantly, and 
 said: 
 
SHE WHISPERED IN HIS EAR and HE UNDERSTOOD 
 
 "Somebody get that gag and blind off or there 
 wUl be someone plugged." 
 
 And Mrs. Bear responded then and there. 
 
 Silent rode his ride as best he could, and saved 
 his horse wherever possible. He found the preach- 
 er walking from the church to his home. Without 
 a word Silent swooped down on the preacher and 
 picked him right up. With his right arm around 
 the preacher's waist he lifted him astride the 
 horse, and after a few whispered words of ex- 
 planation, he told the preacher to put his right 
 foot in the stirrup and his left leg in the saddle 
 with his own, and thus they would ride a horse 
 as two men should. And, as the two looked at 
 each other, they recognized that they were alike 
 and as brothers, in a way, for when friends were 
 on trial they were friends worth while. And they 
 rode in one embrace, as one. 
 
 The crowd was watching Betty, as she sur- 
 veyed them from end to end, looking for a hostile 
 move. Then the crowd turned the other way to 
 watch a new object of excitement. Two men were 
 coming, riding one horse, and in each other's em- 
 brace as one man, and making good time. 
 
 Silent said: 
 
 "Look! There is that horse, covered with 
 lather, but still ready to go !" 
 
 And he slipped off the horse with the preach- 
 er in his arms, half leading, half carrying him 
 to where he knew Tom was waiting. 
 
 The preacher entered. Betty nodded and 
 dropped her head. Tom raised his head and told 
 — X79— 
 
SILENT 
 
 the preacher to tell all With a look not just as 
 kind and retreating as usual, the preacher said : 
 
 **Tom has asked me to make a statement for 
 him. It is not my principle to talk or to tell any- 
 thing until I am asked." 
 
 The preacher's voice was very hoarse and 
 commanding. He showed by his looks and actions 
 that he could be either a soft and gentle adviser or 
 a demon of courage. He continued: 
 
 "I am addressing the parents of these child- 
 ren. Your object of keeping these children from 
 loving each other failed. It is true that you made 
 them quarrel and at times hate each other. But 
 the power to prohibit love, which you tried to im- 
 pose upon your children, has not been manufac- 
 tured by our Maker. For the Sunday they left 
 here together, they were man and wife. 
 
 "They followed me from Sunday school to my 
 home, and while they were not walking together, 
 I knew what they wanted. Tom came up to me 
 and began stammering about wanting to see me 
 and asking me to promise never to tell anyone. He 
 was about to get it out, when Betty came up and 
 poor Tom was unable to make another sound. So 
 I promised to keep the secret and asked him if 
 he had a ring. He answered that he had a ring 
 made out of a horseshoe nail, saying that it was 
 the best he could do. I answered him by saying 
 that I thought it the most valuable ring that I 
 had ever heard of, as it was. And, in my esti- 
 mation, it was far ahead of gold or jewels. 
 
 "And then and there I married them. Now 
 —180— 
 
SHE WHISPERED IN HIS EAR and HE UNDERSTOOD 
 
 that I have kept the secret and have done my 
 duty as man to man, and have performed God's 
 will, I am ready to answer. Do with me as you 
 will." And he passed out. 
 
 "Let's sell them guns and buy a farm," said 
 the leading Texan, as the three left the house. 
 
 Aron said : "Mr. Ash, I am willing to take all 
 the blame for this. And as my daughter-in-law 
 is yours, and your son-in-law is mine, I am will- 
 ing to give you half of everything else that I have 
 r'or half of everything you have. As we are part- 
 ners in our children, let's be partners in every- 
 thing." 
 
 Dave Ash took Aron by the hand and said: 
 
 "That is just what I wanted to say all the 
 dme, but didn't know how to say it." 
 
 As the two old men walked out still shaking 
 hands and talking, Mrs. Bear walked over to Mrs. 
 Ash and said: 
 
 "I am mighty glad you came over to our 
 house today, let's get our albums out and look at 
 the pictures." 
 
 And the two old ladies toddled off together. 
 The storm was over, no more wind or dust, a hush 
 and stillness followed. And as the warring fami- 
 lies made up and smiled that beautiful smile of 
 oeace and contentment, it reminded Silent so much 
 )f the uneventful future. Would they need him 
 or would he be in the way? He became restless 
 and would walk back and forth, each time he pass- 
 ad the door he would look out and up into the 
 heavens where he would hesitate and admire the 
 —181— 
 
SILENT 
 
 mountainous bundles of silver tipped clouds as 
 they gracefully drifted by. And again he won- 
 dered if he would ever be called upon again to 
 face the odds and take the chances for the pro- 
 tection of friends or the helpless. Desperate men 
 and moments he loved to meet and face when they 
 were forced upon him. Again he stood in the door- 
 way eagerly watching the endless numbers of 
 clouds as they majectically hurried past, their sil- 
 very arms seemed to beckon him. Come ! Come ! 
 For the second time this peculiar smile and bright- 
 ness covered his face. Stern and determined his 
 eyes followed the clouds, as he smilingly whispered 
 his answer to the beckoning call. As he started for 
 his horse Silent passed the Indians who were re- 
 joicing and smoking the pipe of peace, and when 
 they learned that the clouds had beckoned and 
 he must go they lifted their voices to the Great 
 Spirit chanting their pdayers to Him and asking 
 His protection for the one called by the clouds. 
 Then they gave Silent the most affectionate fare- 
 well ever offered the Wanderer. 
 
 Back in the house another silent drama was 
 being enacted. Tom looked at Betty and Betty 
 looked at Tom. The language they had learned 
 failed to describe their feelings. They embraced, 
 but said nothing. As they stood there, a power- 
 ful magnet seemed to draw them, and, embraced 
 as they were, they walked to the door sidewise, 
 like two small children. 
 
 As they looked, there he stood, head up and 
 ears back, ready to go, but he did not look like 
 —182— 
 
Other Books 
 
 BY 
 
 C A. FOX 
 
 The Secret Order 
 Bad and Ella 
 Truth 
 My Savior 
 
liariey. He looked like a siaute of welded rnuscie 
 ad bone. They walked to his head and kissed 
 m and then kissed each other. They kissed him 
 ^'•ain, and blew their breath in his nostrils. They 
 itted and pulled his mane. Finally, he dropped 
 is head and Betty whispered in his ear. And 
 e unders};ood. And was transformed back to the 
 nd and gentle horse that he was. 
 
 TIIE END 
 
 ~..-183^-'- 
 
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