Buffalo Roost. Frank H. Cheley
Probably not, for that was ten years ago, you know."
The remains of the last log dropped between the andirons and rolled over.
Mrs. Thornton rose.
"It's time we were in bed, son, long ago." With that she gently bent, kissed him on the forehead, and slipped off to her own room, leaving him with the dying fire. He sat still a long time, his eyes wide open and his fists clenched.
"If I only could," he was saying. "If I only could."
CHAPTER III
In Which Willis Is Honored
"You're always trying to get in a new fellow, Chuck. We never would have a new member if you didn't do your scouting around. You know more about the fellows in this town than any half-dozen of the rest of us. How do you get next to them?"
These remarks came from Robert Dennis, the splendid captain of the High
School Basket Ball Team. He had met a few of his companions at the Young
Men's Christian Association that evening.
The Association was a very handsome, four-story brick that stood some distance back from the street. Of all the places in the community for young fellows to "hang out" the Association was the most popular. At any hour after school, until closing time in the evening, small groups of fellows of every age might be found in the various departments, talking athletics, planning an all-day hike into the mountains, discussing an amateur theatrical, a debating club, a Bible study supper, or some other of the many activities carried on by these fellows with the Association as a basis of operations and a partner. It appealed to the best fellows in the school, and even in the entire community, for it had very early in its history made itself known as a clean, broad-minded, sympathetic, and constructive agency in the lives of boys and young men. It appealed to the fellows because they could have a hand in its operations and a voice in its government; because it stood for clean sport, clean bodies, clean minds, healthy spirits, and a type of social life that had all the appearances of being powerfully masculine, and yet clean and gentlemanly. It stood for a three-sided manhood—spirit, mind, and body.
Chuck seated himself. "No, Dennis, not always getting a new member, but I'll tell you one thing, I always do have an eye open for a first-class fellow for our bunch. You know as well as I do that if we are going to keep things right, here in our old Y.M., and give the 'Chief' the help he needs, we'll have to keep adding every strong, clean, congenial fellow we can lay our hands on. You don't need to worry about our getting too many. O.F.F. has been doing stunts for two years now, and in that time we have just taken in five new men. We have room for at least three more. I know sometimes I make a mistake, but I'll bet my hat on this fellow. He's no ordinary kid, I'll tell you that. I saw him in the swimming tank with his uncle, Mr. Williams, yesterday, and a cleaner-cut, better-built fellow you never saw. Swim like a fish, and dive—why, there's nothing to it. If he takes a membership in this Department he'll be in the Leaders' Corps in less than a jiffy, and, what's more, he'll be a leader in everything else, too, when he gets acquainted."
"Well, I'll tell you," said "Shorty" Wier, who had thus far kept silent, "Let's all look him over and get better acquainted with him Wednesday night on the hike. The 'Chief' told me he had invited him to go along with the bunch."
"What's the bunch going to do on Wednesday night?" inquired "Sleepy" Smith, who was always preoccupied when anything of real importance was going on.
"Why, you ought to wake up occasionally and you wouldn't be so far behind the times," replied Chuck, rather dryly. "The class is going to Sweet Potato Gulch for a business meeting and wiener-bake. Be sure to be on hand, every man of you."
"O well, I don't like wieners, anyway," replied Smith, and he returned to his own thoughts.
* * * * *
Wednesday night was perfect—not a cloud in the sky, and a great half-moon to help them find their way. There was a spring breeze in the air, the kind that makes a great wood-fire of dry logs and pine needles about the most attractive thing on earth to a crowd of young savages. Far away to the westward Pike's Peak's hoary head was lifted into the sky, dimly lighted by the yellow rays of the moon. There was a faint odor of spring in the air, while the little mountain stream had not as yet given up its icy prattle. Little patches of snow still dotted the sides of the canyon, and here and there a crystal icicle sparkled from the end of a pine bough.
It was a night of wonders for Willis. He had never felt the "call of the wild" so strongly and irresistibly as on that night. Every mountain crag seemed to be calling him, and in his fancy he thought the fir trees reached their gently-waving branches, beckoning him to come into the darkness and solitude. In spite of himself, his thoughts would wander to the Michigan homeland. He wondered if the ice had broken on the lake yet, and if the blossoms had begun to come in the old orchard, and if his grandmother had filled the incubator. He felt queer with so many strangers, yet not at all ill-at-ease, for he had lived a wholesome life in the out-of-doors, and the meaning of fear was almost unknown to him. As the fire was lighted and the wieners set to bake on the end of long, green willow sticks, he began to enter more completely into the merriment of the crowd.
It was an exceptional group of older fellows—the clean fun and wholesome chat was above the ordinary, yet was spontaneous and real. The "Chief," whose name was Allen, stood at one side of the fire with a note-book in his hand, while the fellows were seated upon a dead log that had been dragged close to the fire. Allen was a young man of medium height, well-built, and clean-cut. His hair was black and his eyes were dark and very bright. A merry smile played over his features. Every fellow in the group knew that that smile meant "good will toward men." His hiking trousers bagged about the tops of his high mountain boots, and his sweater bore the marks of many a camping trip. He always wore on such occasions as this an old felt hat, which had the initials of many a stanch, good, out-of-door companion printed on it. There was the color and vigor of health in his face, and his movements were swift and powerful. He was a splendid specimen of a clean, unselfish college man who loved God, His out-of-doors, and all his fellow-men. There was not a man in the community who had such an influence, or for whom the boys felt such profound respect, as Allen. He was a "square deal" personified. Many were the personal differences of the fellows that were submitted to him free-willed for arbitration. His Department was his kingdom, and these fellows his stanch and loyal supporters. Where he led they followed, always knowing it was for some good purpose. Meanness, like a wolf in the night, slunk away when he came upon it. Smut and slander knew they had no chance in his presence. To these fellows, and many more who knew him, he stood as a confidential friend and counselor, and was as a father to many a boy in the time of trouble. Many were the fathers who would have given a good deal to have held the place in their sons' estimations that Mr. Allen did.
The trip that night did several things for Willis. It told him plainly that he was going to be an ardent lover of the mountains and life in them, just as he had dreamed and hoped he might.
Several weeks later, when Willis came home one evening, he found his mother waiting for him at the door with an envelope in her hand. Willis had told his mother all about his trip to the "Gulch," and had confessed to her how proud he would be to become a member of "O.F.F." A warm friendship had sprung up between Chuck and himself, and he was learning to be happy in the companionship of that crowd. He eagerly reached for the envelope, and, opening it, read aloud:
"Next Friday evening 'O.F.F.' will hold an outing meeting in Williams Canyon. We will first take you through Huccacode Cave, then we will have supper on Pinion Crag. We will hold our meeting about the council fire, at which time we will be very pleased to extend to you the right hand of fellowship, and make you a full-fledged member of 'O.F.F.'
"ROBT. DENNIS,
President."
"Isn't that great, mother! I'm really to be a member of the very best Bible group at the Association. It's a club, too, you know, and holds every member to a clean standard of life in work