devolved the duty to provide for their three
small sons had given her the strength to resolve not to succumb to a
like fate. Her voice brightened when she told me that in all her misery
there had come one tiny streak of good fortune to her, a poor, helpless
widow cast upon the mercy of the world with three children. The new
section foreman, whom the company had sent to fill the vacancy caused by
Mr. McDonald's death, proved to be a crusty, old bachelor of perhaps
sixty-five who no doubt appreciating a few extra comforts at his age,
gladly consented to have Mrs. McDonald remain and continue taking charge
of the section house, and the boarding crew, in return for a small
stipend and a shelter for herself and her fatherless children.

When in the evening the new foreman and the crew came home from their
work, Mrs. McDonald spoke a word in my favor, and although there was no
need of an additional laborer, the new foreman, after he had heard my
story, engaged my services.

Until the thawing of the snow I faithfully worked upon the section, but
when Spring again set in with full force, there came another attack of
the strange fever that drove me onward every year, and, following the
"Call of the Wanderlust", I left for the South, having again promised
that with the approach of winter I would be on hand to fill my place
with the section crew.

I drifted along with the harvest, but after the wintry storms that swept
over the endless expanse of the plains had twisted off the last leaves
which the autumn had burnished to a fiery red, and the nights became too
chilly to make out-of-door camping a pleasure, I found my way back to my
North Dakota section reservation, which I now considered my regular
winter quarters.

I arrived at the section house almost at the time when the hand car was
due to return for supper, and intending to surprise Mrs. McDonald,
knowing that in all the world it would be the poor widow who would give
me, a homeless harvester, a glad welcome, I slipped almost noiselessly
up to the porch and knocked on the door, but no answer came to my
repeated knocks. Then I tried to open the door, which during Foreman
McDonald's time had never been known to be locked, and to my surprise I
found it bolted. Thinking that perhaps the widow had gone to purchase
provisions, I walked around to the rear of the building and tried every
door, but found that all of them were locked. A miserably starved black
cat, that made a ten