by F. M. Parker
“Hello there,” a man called from the road. Without further words, he left the road and came into the clearing. He looked at Alice, who had come to stand near Paul. “Are both of you all right?” the man asked.
“We’re okay,” Paul replied and wondering who the fellow was. He put his arm protectively around Alice’s shoulders
“I saw what happened and you’re lucky to be alive for the sheriff is a crack pistol shot. Oh, by the way, I’m Sam Horton, Deputy Sheriff.” He paused as a thought came to him. “Actually, now that Taggert is dead, I’m the Sheriff of Beltrami County.
At Sam’s pronouncement, Paul glanced at his rifle lying in the snow.
“You won’t need that for I’m on your side. I followed Taggert to stop him from killing Alice.”
“What did you say?” Alice asked quickly and not believing what she had heard.
“Matty told me about Oscar and I came to stop him from killing you. Further I know that you killed Cole in self defense.” He gave Alice a sad look. “I’m sorry about that fellow you were traveling with these last miles.”
“What about Will?” Alice asked hastily.
“I’ve been following Oscar’s tracks and they led me straight to Will’s body. Oscar killed him over there in Canada just beyond the bridge.”
“He was good to me,” Alice said and her eyes misting. She wanted to cry for Will. She would do that when she was alone.
“What about him?” Paul asked and gestured at Oscar’s body.
“My lawman’s deduction from the visible evidence is that a wild dog killed the sheriff. In fact I see the dog lying on top of his victim. I’ll take its body back with Oscar’s as proof.”
Paul did not like the thought of Brutus being taken to Bemiji for display and declared to be a wild killer. Brutus deserved a proper burial at the farm. Still brave and faithful Brutus would want his body used to protect Paul as it had before in other dangerous situations. Paul locked eyes with the lawman and nodded. Sam nodded back and there was complete understanding and agreement between the two.
“Then we’re both really free to go?” Alice said.
Sam turned to Alice. “Like I said, I believe you killed Cole in self defense. If there are any questions about Cole’s or Oscar’s death, then I’ll drive up here and get a statement from you two. But I don’t think there will be any for Oscar wasn’t much liked. My job now is to report several deaths and arrange funerals for the dead.”
Paul picked his rifle up from the snow. “Alice, let’s go home so my mom can doctor my wound.”
“Home?”
“Yes. Mom said to bring you home to live with us.” Paul put his arm around Alice’s shoulders and pulled her against him.
Alice in turn put her arm around Paul. She had a home and a family. A warm, secure feeling evicted the cold loneliness that had dwelled in her heart for such a very long time.
“You two take good care of each other,” Sam called and gave them a smile.
“We’ll do that very thing.” Paul replied. “And thanks.”
Alice and Paul, side by side, walked away through the falling snow.
Epilogue
From 1854 to1929 an estimated 150,000 homeless children, orphans and abandoned children, were shipped by train from New York City to farms in mid-west America to be “taken in” by a family. There are an estimated 1,000,000 descendants, most of them alive today, who trace their roots to the boys and girls that rode the orphan trains.
In 1979 Bruce (Utah) Phillips, an offspring of one of the Orphan Train girls, wrote a song about the Orphan Train.
Orphan Train
Once I had a darling mother, though I can’t recall her name
I had a baby brother who I’ll never see again
For the Children’s Home is sending us out on the Orphan Train
To try to find someone to take us in
Chorus - Take us in, we have rode the Orphan Train
Take us in, we need a home, we need a home.
Take us in, oh won’t you be our kin
We are looking for someone to take us in
I have stolen from the poorbox, I’ve begged the city streets
I’ve swabbed the bars and poolrooms for a little bite to eat
In my daddy’s old green jacket and these rags upon my feet
I’ve been looking for someone to take me in
The Children’s Home they gathered us, me and all the rest
They taught us to sit quietly until the food is blest
Then they put us on the Orphan Train and sent us way out west
To try to find someone to take us in.
The farmers and their families they came from miles around
We lined up on the platform of the station in each town
And one by one we parted like some living lost-and-found
And one by one we all were taken in.
Now there’s many a fine doctor or a teacher in your school
There’s many a good preacher who can teach the Golden Rule
Who started out an orphan sleeping in the freezing rain
Whose life began out on the Orphan Train
Girl in Falling Snow
Copyright © FM. Parker 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
This digital edition published in 2011 by Fearl M. Parker
ISBN 978-1-908400-44-4
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