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along the trail they made. Do you know Richard's out there at the end of the line--nearly?" "He would be likely to be. Roving boy! What's he doing there?" "Poor boy! He almost died in that terrible southern prison. He was the mere shadow of himself when he came home," said Hester. "The young men of the present day have little use for beaten paths and safe ways. I offered him a position in the bank, but no--he must go to Scotland first to make the acquaintance of our aunts. If he had been satisfied with that! But no, again, he must go to Ireland on a fool's errand to learn something of his father." The Elder paused and bit his lip, and a vein stood out on his forehead. "He's never seen fit to write me of late." "Of course such a big scheme as this road across the plains would appeal to a man like Richard. He's doing very well, father. I wouldn't be disturbed about him." "Humph! I might as well be disturbed about the course of the Wisconsin River. I might as well worry over the rush of a cataract. The lad has no stability." "He never fails to write to me, and I must say that he was considered the most dependable man in the regiment." "What is he doing? I should like to see the boy again." Hester looked across at her son with a warm, loving light in her eyes. "I don't know exactly, but it's something worth while, and calls for lots of energy. He says they are striking out into the dust and alkali now--right into the desert." "And doesn't he say a word about when he is coming back?" "Not a word, mother. He really has no home, you know. He says Scotland has no opening for him, and he has no one to depend on but himself." "He has relatives who are fairly well to do in Ireland." The Elder frowned. "So I've heard, and my aunts in Scotland talked of making him their heir, when I was last there." "He knows that, father, but he says he's not one to stand round waiting for two old women to die. He says they're fine, decorous old ladies, too, who made a lot of him. I warrant they'd hold up their hands in horror if they knew what a rough life he's leading now." "How rough, my son? I wish he'd make up his mind to come home." "There! I told him this is his home; just as much as it is mine. I'll write him you said that, mother." "Indeed, yes. Bless the boy!" The Elder looked at his wife and lifted his brows, a sign that it was time the meal should close, and she rose instantly. It was her habit nev
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