Picturegoer (1922)

40 THE PI CTU RE-GOE-R JUNE 1922 The horror of the discovery had left him dazed. " What's this, Ort ? " his wife demanded. " You bin — workin' — an' puttin' it by ? " Ort evaded her eye. " Course you know," he said. " I wanted to leave my wife an' kids well fixed when I die. You see, Mary. . . ."' Suddenly she sat and buried her face in her hands and sobbed. " It don't matter," cried Hutch. It don't matter wot sort o' news you give a woman, they starts 'ollerin'. It beats me. Listen, Mary. P'raps you wunnerin' why I never said a thing about it. Well, I ain't a bragger, Mary, and I never was ; an' besides, I wanted it to be a bit of a pleasant surprise for you, an' . . . Oh, I dunno. There's another thing, Mary. Now it's all out an' there's no need to keep it dark no longer, I reckon there'll be no harm in taking up old Hiram Joy's ranch and see what we can make of it. You can wash out the washing, Mary, and give me a hand up there. Hiram reckons it won't stand no hired help at first, but'll pick up wonderful soon." You mean this, Ort ? " " Mean it ? Did I ever take up a thing I didn't go on with ? " asked Ort indignantly. " Can't say, Ort. Never knew you take up a thing." That night Hutch went along the street and had another talk with Hiram Joy, and insidp a week the Joy ranch on the hill was being worked by the Hutchinses — father, mother and family — and the reputation of father for hard work was growing and growing and growing and growing — much to father's disgust. But there was no other way. . Not a day passed without Hutch's customary visit to the little money bush. Keep on growin' an' lookin' pretty," he'd say. " I'll be callin' for you proper soon." The summer dawdled along, and the farm prospered beyond all expectations, and Hutch, to his vast surprise, discovered that he was making money out of hard work. There was not too much pleasure in the discovery, but there was surprise. In the first quarter's trading he made a thousand dollars, and he drew a thousand dollar bill and showed it around the town plenty, just to let 'em see he was used to the things." " Better prepare 'em for it," he thought. One evening^ he strolled down for his peep at the money bush. Soon would come the time for the harvest. But on his arrival there was surprise piled on surprise. A dark-skinned foreigner — a wandering gipsy — was chopping down the bush and building a hut above it. " Hey ! " cried Ort, rushing forward. " Stop ! You can't do that." " Oh ? " said the gipsy. " But why, now ? But yes. But I can. I have the permeesh." ' The permeesh ! " cried Ort. " I don't care if you have a hundred permeeshes. You can't " " Mr. Gunnison, which own the land, he give me the permeesh for all the lots of years, and I build the 'ut on it, and I stay on it, and you can commit, suicide about yourself with great pleasure for all the care I have about you." " But " Ort turned away, baffled and beaten. Little money bush ! Cut down 1 Built over 1 What's the use now ? He met Gunnison in the store saloon. " Oh, Gunnison," he said. " That land o' yourn down by the river, where the foreigners is pitched. I gotter bit of'n idea for a bungalow for the wife an' kids. The ranch ain't too nice an' handy for 'em. Now, if you could make it your business to sell. . . ." " Yes ? Well," the squeezer considered, " say a thousand dollars, and it's yours." Inwardly staggered at the impudence of the price, outwardly Ort was calm as ever. " Yes, that don't sound unreasonable, Gunnison," he said. " I'll let you have a answer by mornin'." Willow Bend, crowded round the stove, gasped with astonishment. " Lordy ! " it whispered. " He must have piles and piles of it." Ort lazily strolled down the street to the bank, and called in to see Hiram about it. " There's a bit o* land down by the river I'm wantin' for a little place for the wife an' kids. It's the only place I can get 'em to like. It's Gunnison's, and he wants a thousand. I've talked and talked and talked with him no end, and argued till my voice has pretty well broke again, but he won't come down on the price. Now, it's this way, Mr. Joy. I made a hundred thousand on the tradin', but of course some of it's gone in expenses an' things. And then there'll be the cost of the little house. I been kinder wonderin'. ..." " Hutch," said Hiram. " You're a winner. I've closely watched the work you've put in that farm. You've done the work of a dozen men. You've won out, an' I know I can bank on you. I'll give you a bill for a thousand, and we can call it off your next trading. Only too glad to. The way you're going, the place'll be your own inside a year or two." Ort returned home in a state of great satisfaction that evening. Mary was at the gate to meet him, the children gathered round. Thus it was every evening now. " This," sighed Mary, " is what I've dreamed of for years. And now — look at it ! " Ort looked at it and agreed it was a dream. Gone the squalor and the filth that had been their home atmosphere in the rough home down the street. Now Mary was smiling and happy, the children well clothed and clean, and Hutch himself, for the first time in his career, well dressed, well set up, his slouch gone, a look of pride on his face. " Ain't it worth workin' for, Ort ? " Mary beamed. " Ain't it just ! " laughed Ort, meaning not quite the same, but meaning it strong. [Continued on page 6j.