Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Dec 1920)

CLASSIC the trail, they spoke with coarse freedom of the boy's dubious parentage. "A bound boy, wi^ no pappy and no mom as anybody knows on," they sneered, "set tin' hisself up to be somebody — it's 'nough to make a hawg laff. He'd 'a' done better to have stayed and minded Jeff Turner's sheep, and kept his belly full." Only one person watched Chad set out, and sent a gentle thought with him, a prayer that he might find what he went to seek for — happiness and success. Melissa, hidden behind the great tree at the bend of the trail, heard their voices coming closer, passing, then dared to look out from her leafy covert for one last glimpse of the dark head, held so high in its rough fur cap, the straight shoulders in their sheepskin covering, the very way he walked — as if, she thought, he already had his white castles, his towers. She closed the memory of this last glimpse of him away in her heart sacredly, to be taken out when she was alone sometimes, looked at, dreamed over. "I'll never see him again," said Melissa, but she did not know. A week later Caleb Hess returned. It got about, after a while, thru assiduous questioning, that he had not taken Chad up North after all, but left him in Lexington with a Major Rufus Buford, who had taken a fancy to the boy and promised to care for him and give him an education. The name reawakened old rumors. What if Chad should have a right to the half-jesting patronymic he had always borne? What if this major should be kin of his? "Always said the boy had something to him," the mountaineers told each other. "Reckon M'W be moughty proud, now he's got fine friends, an' fergit aU we've done fer him !" Life went on, thru the cold winter days, the .sheep, huddled in their folds, bleating plaintively. The women shuffled about the dark cabins from greasy skillet to the cradles of their ailing babes. Caleb, in the frigid log schoolhouse, labored patiently, but without inspiration, to plant a small seed of beauty in the unfertile minds before him, and M'liss dreamed in the red dusks of a tall, erect figure, panoplied like a knight, striding down the shining street of a great city. And then one night, as the Turners sat about their eternal sow-bdly and beans, and the cabin swam in the sooty, greasy light of oil lamps, the door opened and Chad stood on the threshold, looking at them with a set, white face and eyes cold and empty, hke dead>brands when the flame is gone. The elder Turner brought his knife handle down on the table with a hoarse cackle of delight. "Haw, haw I Come back, eh ? Fine friends turn you out and you come crawlin' back to fill your crop." (Thirty-one) "You've been moughty good to me, Mliss ; I reckon I wont forget it, ever," he said Dan and Jake, the boys, echoed their father's hateful hilarity, Mrs. Turner gave a spiritless glance at the silent figure, then shuffled to the stove to pile another plate with food, but Melissa sprang to her feet and ran to Chad, clutching his hands in her hard, calloused ones. "Chad boy ! Oh, mebbe it's wicked to be glad, but I am — I am !" Melissa sobbed. Then, vaguely terrified by the stillness of him, she stood on tiptoe, thrusting her face close to his. And the set despair she read there brought a cry to her lips. "Chad! What's happened? Tell me. Oh, Chad, the fire — the fire in your eyes is out ! What have they city folk done t' you ?" But the boy merely .shook her off, not unkindly, and went to the table. "I've come back — if you'll keep nle," he said, with set lips. "I kin take care of the sheep for my keep. I found" — he drew a deep breath, and his face went white — "I found I belonged up here " And that was all he would say, tho he pushed the plate of repulsive food away and sat silent, staring down at his lax hands till all but Melissa had yawned themselves away to bedLike a little, grey shadow, Melissa slipped closer, laid her hand tremblingly on his knee. "Now, Chad, tell me," she whispered. "I reckon 'tisn't any tiling that cant be mended. What did theyall do to you — down thar?" Chad drew a sharp breath, laughed terribly. He was very tragic, as is youth's way, for his pride had been hurt almost to death and his heart was sick. "Kin you mend bad stock? Kin you find me a mammy and a pappy — kin you give me the right to be homed at all ?" Unconsciously, his tongue fell into