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Updated: June 16, 2025
He sent Sam with an order to the constable to come for the prisoner. Yan went to the house for provisions and to bring Mrs. Raften, and Guy went home with an astonishing account of his latest glorious doings. The tramp desperado was securely fastened to a tree; Caleb was in the teepee lying down. Raften went in for a few minutes, and when he came out the tramp was gone.
"Oh, I remember reading about it now, and they are like that, and it's on them that the Indians paint their records. Isn't that bully," as he saw Raften add two long inner stakes which held the dew-cloth like a canopy. "Say, Da, I never knew you and Caleb were hunting together. Thought ye were jest natural born enemies." "Humph!" grunted Raften. "We wuz chums oncet.
Burns actually wept for joy to see her heroic boy properly recognized at last. Then she went over to Sam and said, "Did you bring your folks here to see my boy get praised?" Sam nodded and twinkled an eye. "Well, I don't care who ye are, Raften or no Raften, you got a good heart, an' it's in the right place.
"D you, Raften, I've stood all I'm goin' to stand from you." The revolver was out in a flash, and doubtless Caleb would have lived up to his reputation, but Sam, springing to push his father back, came between, and Yan clung to Caleb's revolver arm, while Guy got safely behind a tree. "Get out o' the way, you kids!" snarled Caleb.
There was something positively pathetic in the simplicity of the three shrewd men and their abject reverence for the wonderful scholarship of this raw boy, and not less touching was their absolute faith in his infallibility as a mathematician. Raften grinned at him in a peculiar, almost a weak way.
"That's what the Injuns used; that's what we used ourselves in the airly days of this yer settlement." The boys had looked for a rebuke, and here was a helping hand. It all turned on the fact that this was "play hours," Raften left with a parting word: "In wan hour an' a half the pigs is fed." "You see Da's all right when the work ain't forgot," said Sam, with a patronizing air.
That night a heavy storm set in, and next day the boys found their flimsy wigwam blown down nothing but a heap of ruins. Some time after, Raften asked at the table in characteristic stern style, "Bhoys, what's doin' down to yer camp? Is yer wigwam finished?" "No good," said Sam. "All blowed down." "How's that?" "I dunno'. It smoked like everything. We couldn't stay in it."
If Yan had only known, that was the one word of comfort that Raften found when he saw his big boy go down: "It's eddication done it. Oh, but he's fine eddicated."
Turner made a million. Titian lived in a palace, and so did Raphael." "Hm. Don't know 'em, but maybe so maybe so. It's wonderful what eddication does that's what I tell Sam." They now drew near the schoolhouse. It was holiday time, but the door was open and on the steps were two graybearded men. They nodded to Raften. These men were the school trustees.
The tramp felt again for his knife, swore savagely, looked around for a club, found only a big stone, and would have done no one knows what, when there was a yell from behind, another big man crashed down the trail, and the tramp faced William Raften, puffing and panting, with Guy close behind. The stone meant for Caleb he hurled at William, who dodged it, and now there was an even fight.
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