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Columbia Falls was outside of Glacier Park. Kalispell was even farther outside of Glacier Park, and horses were needed badly in the Park. For last year Glacier Park had the greatest boom in its history and found the concessionnaires unprepared to take care of all the tourists. What we should do, we knew, was to deadhead our horses back into the Park as soon as they had had a little rest.

At Kalispell he went out on the platform and filled his lungs again and again with Montana air, that was clean of fog and had a nip to it. The sun shone, the sky was blue and the clouds reminded him of a band of new-washed sheep scattered and feeding quietly. The wind blew keen in his face and set his blood a-dance, his blood, which for long months had moved sluggishly in his veins.

Claire had not seen Milt for a day and a half; not since the morning when both cars had left Butte. She wondered, and was piqued, and slightly lonely. Toward evening, when she was speculating as to whether she would make Kalispell almost up to the Canadian border she saw a woman run into the road from a house on the shore of Flathead Lake. The woman held out her hand. Claire pulled up.

This Boltwood? Hotel in Kalispell trying to locate you, for two hours. Been telephoning all along the line, from Butte to Somers." "W-well, w-will you g-get 'em for me?" It was not Milt's placid and slightly twangy voice but one smoother, more decisive, perplexingly familiar, that finally vibrated, "Hello! Hello! Miss Boltwood! Operator, I can't hear. Get me a better connection. Miss Boltwood?"

The deep snows and extreme cold of a long and unusually severe winter drove the hungry deer down out of the mountains into the settlements, where the ranchmen joyously slaughtered them. The destruction around Kalispell was described by Harry P. Stanford as "sickening." Mr.

In 1910 the Bison Society raised by subscription a fund of $10,526, and with it purchased 37 very perfect pure-blood bison from the famous Conrad herd at Kalispell, 22 of which were females. One gift bison was added by Mr. and Mrs.

They know its exact cost in blood and sweat. They value it. And they will do their best by it. Perhaps, after all, this is the end of this particular adventure. And yet, what Western story is complete without a round-up? There was to be a round-up the next day at Kalispell, farther south in that wonderful valley. But there was a difficulty in the way. Our horses were Glacier Park horses.

J-e-f-f! Jeff Saxton!" "Oh!" It was like a sob. "Why why but you're in New York." "Not exactly, dear. I'm in Kalispell, Montana." "But that's right near here." "So am I!" "B-but " "Out West to see copper interests. Traced you from Yellowstone Park but missed you at Butte. Thought I'd catch you on road. You talking from Barmberry's?"

To-day, when I am low in my mind, I take that cowgirl hat from its retreat and read its inscription: "Give 'er pep and let 'er buck." It is a whole creed. Somewhere among my papers I have the programme of that round-up at Kalispell. It was a very fine round-up. There was a herd of buffalo; there were wild horses and long-horned Mexican steers. There was a cheering crowd.

I've arranged for a motor-boat so we can explore the lake here tomorrow. That's why I had you wait here instead of coming on to Kalispell. Tomorrow morning, unfortunately, I have to hustle back and catch a train called to California, and possibly a northern trip. But meantime By now, my driver must have sneaked my s'prises into the kitchen." "What are they?" "Guess." "Food. Eats. Divine eats."