A RANCHMAN'S RECOLLECTIONS 



nant influence on my life. Kirk Armour stood 6 feet, 

 perhaps a trifle over; he was built in proportion; a 

 massive chest, broad shoulders, a square jaw and 

 laughing eyes. His face and hands were bronzed by 

 the great outdoors that he loved. Little waves of 

 magnetism seemed to radiate from him, even before 

 he spoke, and when he spoke a mental arm seemed to 

 come up to salute. In that initial interview I became 

 aware of qualities in him which I have heard com- 

 mented upon hundreds of times; as, for example, his 

 interest in individuals, his love of progress, and his 

 doing things worth while. He asked questions so 

 rapidly that they could hardly be answered, and be- 

 fore I knew it I was hired. I took away with me the 

 same impression that everyone took who ever talked 

 with him ten minutes: "This man is interested in 

 me." It was true of all; he was interested in them 

 and their work; he had suggested something pro- 

 gressive. It was his interest in everyone, develop- 

 ment, progress, betterment in everything, which 

 proved a burden even greater than his Herculean 

 strength could carry. It sent him back to Mother 

 Earth at the age of 48. I still mourn some of the 

 things that he had planned; things which would have 

 been great community benefits, often of national 

 importance, if his life had been spared. I have often 

 felt that he would have become the world's greatest 

 merchant. 



Of all the incidents that I can recall which illus- 



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