178 THE COUNTRY BOY 



ing my right arm I could tell whether my 

 bank account was all right or not. 



Father w^as always careful at figures and 

 accurate in calculations, so he figured in giving 

 me the change I was to have in my pockets, a 

 day's allowance extra, in case of a washout, or 

 something, and finally we started for the train. 

 All along the streets were lined with people. 

 Silverton, as I was likely seeing it for the last 

 time, looked more beautiful than ever. The 

 rain had dwindled down to a fine mist that 

 didn't amount to anything. The people of 

 the town were all smiles. I guess they looked 

 better to me than I did to them. It was a 

 bashful trip for me, as I had left a few months 

 before to be the artist on the Oregonian at 

 Portland, and the whole town went into a half- 

 holiday, and the streets were decorated. I 

 even bid them good-bye for ever; but I was 

 fired, and came back before some of the flower 

 decorations had wilted. Thus it got to be a 

 joke, and naturally the people thought we w^ere 

 foolish to let father spend so much money on 

 such an uncertain trail, and I couldn't blame 

 them. 



But father, — God bless him, — he didn't com- 



