Page:From the West to the West.djvu/289



XXXIX

THE OLD HOMESTEAD

THE gray dawn of a bleak December morning found the Ranger brothers alternately stamping the snow from their feet on the front veranda of the old homestead, and listening for the first sounds of awakening within. The same denuded locust-boughs swept the lattice as of yore; and it seemed but yesterday to John Ranger as he recalled the time he had caught his gentle Annie in his arms on that momentous and well-remembered evening, and made the startling announcement, "It's all settled, mother. Brother Lije has bought the farm, and we'll be off in less than a month for Oregon."

He turned to his brother, whose face was like marble as he stood in the shadow of the wall, as silent as the Sphinx.

"Who in thunder is coming here to rout a fellow out o' bed at this time of a Sunday morning?" growled Lije Robinson, as he opened the door an inch or so and peeped out into the biting air.

"It is I and another," cried John Ranger, pushing the door wide open. For a moment the brothers-in-law faced each other in silence. One was dumb with many conflicting emotions, the other with simple wonder.

"Your conscience must have troubled you," said Lije, after an awkward pause, "or you wouldn't have come back. But come in! I'll start up the fire. Who's this?" looking hard at Joseph, whose bronzed and bearded face was more than half concealed by the upturned collar of his fur-lined overcoat.

"Don't you know him, Lije?"

"Naw, nor I don't wan