1 
American Agriculturist, May 19,1923 
The Valley of the Giants 
The End of Peter B. Kyne's Popular Serial 
B ryce glanced at his watch. “It’s 
half after eleven,” he said. “Guess 
I’ll run up to the Giants and bring him 
home to luncheon.” 
He stepped into the Napier and drove 
away. Buck Ogilvy with sudden de¬ 
termination entered the office. 
“Moira,” he said abruptly, “your dad 
is back, and Bryce Cardigan has let him 
have his old job as woods-boss. And 
I’m here to announce that you’re not 
going back to the woods to keep house 
for him. Understand? Now, look here, 
Moira. I’ve shilly-shallied around you 
for months, and I haven’t gotten any¬ 
where. To-day I’m going to ask you 
for the last time. Will you marry me?” 
“I’m afraid I don’t love you well 
enough to marry you,” Moira pleaded. 
“I’m truly fond of you, but-” 
“The last boat’s gone,” cried Mr. 
Ogilvy desperately. “I’m answered. 
Well, I’ll not stick around here much 
longer, Moira. So I’ll quit my job here 
and go back to my old game of rail¬ 
roading.” 
“Oh, you wouldn’t quit a ten-thou- 
sand-dollar job,” Moira cried, aghast. 
“I’d quit a million-dollar job. I’m 
desperate enough to go over to the mill 
and pick a fight with the big band-saw.” 
“But I don’t want you to go, Mr. 
Ogilvy.” 
“Call me Buck,” he commanded 
sharply. 
“I don’t want you to go. Buck,” she 
repeated meekly. “I shall feel guilty, 
driving you out of a fine position.” 
“Then marry me and I’ll stay.” 
“But suppose I don’t love you the 
way you deserve-” 
“Suppose!” Buck Ogilvy cried. 
“You’re no longer certain of yourself. 
How dare you deny your love for me? 
Eh? Moira, I’ll risk it.” 
Her eyes turned to him timidly, and 
for the first time he saw in their smoky 
depths a lambent flame. “I don’t know,” 
she quavered, “and it’s a big responsi¬ 
bility in case-” 
“Oh, the devil take the case!” he 
cried rapturously, and took her hands 
in his. “Do I improve with age, dear 
Moira?” he asked with boyish eager¬ 
ness; then, before she could answer, he 
swept on, a tornado of love and plead¬ 
ing. And presently Moira was in his 
arms, and he was kissing her, and she 
was crying softly because—well, she 
wondered, and as she wondered, a quiet 
joy thrilled her in the knowledge that 
it did not seem at all impossible for her 
to grow, in time, absurdly fond of this 
wholesome red rascal. 
“Oh, Buck, dear,” she whispered, “I 
don’t know, but perhaps I’ve loved you 
a little bit for a long time.” 
OHN CARDIGAN was seated ' n his 
lumberjack’s easy-chair as his son ap¬ 
proached. His hat lay aside him; his 
chin was sunk on his bi’east, and his 
head was held a little to one side in a 
listening attitude; a vagrant little 
breeze rustled gently his fine, white 
hair. Bryce stooped over and shook 
him gently by the shoulder. 
“Wake up, partner,” he called cheer¬ 
fully. But John Cardigan did not 
wake, and again his son shook him. 
The old eyes opened, and John Cardi¬ 
gan smiled up at his boy. “Good son,” 
he whispered. He closed his sightless 
eyes again. “I’ve been sitting here— 
waiting,” he went on in the same gentle 
whisper. “No, not waiting for you, 
boy—waiting ” 
His head fell over on his son’s 
shoulder; his hand went groping for 
Bryce’s. “Listen,” he continued. “Can’t 
you hear it—the Silence? I’ll wait for 
you here, my son. Mother and I will 
Wait together now. Look after old 
Mac and Moira—and Bill Dandy, who 
lost his leg—and—all the others, son. 
Sorry I can’t wait to see the San Hed- 
rin opened up, but—I’ve lived my life 
and loved my love. Ah, yes, I’ve been 
happy — just doing things — and — 
dreaming here among my Giants— 
and-” 
He sighed gently. “Good son,” he 
whispered again; his big body relaxed, 
and the great heart of the Argonaut 
Was still. Bryce held him until the 
realization came to him that his father 
Was no more. 
“Good-bye, old John-partner!” he 
murmured. “You’ve escaped into the 
light at last. We’ll go home together 
now, but we’ll come back again.” 
And with his father’s body in his 
strong arms he departed from the little 
amphitheatre, walking lightly down the 
old skid-road to the waiting automobile. 
And two days later John Cardigan re¬ 
turned to rest forever with his lost 
mate among the Giants, himself at last 
an infinitesimal portion of that tre¬ 
mendous silence that is the diapason of 
the ages. 
W HEN the funeral was over, Shirley 
and Bryce lingered until they 
found themselves alone beside the fresh¬ 
ly turned earth. Through a rift in the 
great branches two hundred feet above, 
a patch of cerulean sky showed faintly; 
the sunlight fell like a broad golden 
shaft over the bdossom-laden grave, 
and from the brown_ trunk of an adja¬ 
cent tree a gray sqtiirrel, a descendant, 
perhaps, of the gray squirrel that had 
been wont to rob Bryce’s pockets of 
pine-nuts twenty years before, chirped 
at them inquiringly. 
“He was a giant among men,” said 
Bryce presently. “What a fitting place 
LIVING WITH OUR CHILDREN 
N choosing toys for your chil¬ 
dren, or in teaching them games, 
remember the following age-classi¬ 
fications: 
1-3 years, toys and games to de¬ 
velop muscles and senses. 
3-6 years, to develop imagina¬ 
tion. 
6-11 years, to develop self-con¬ 
fidence. 
11-16 years, to develop loyalty and 
fair play. 
Toys to children are what tools 
are to grown men. They learn to 
use them and through the tools to 
use their own bodies and minds. 
Thought as to the right choice of 
toys is not time wasted on childish 
foolishness, but is constructive 
building for the man who will 
some day take his place in the 
community life. 
Get the child’s point of view; 
respect his tastes and property as 
you expect him to respect yours. 
Above all, play with him—not 
condescendingliF, or half-heartedly, 
but in the true spirit of Froebel’s 
great appeal “Come let us live 
with our children.” 
for him to lie!” He passed his arm 
around his wife’s shoulders and drew 
her to him. “You made it possible, 
sweetheart.” 
She gazed up at him in adoration. 
And presently they left the Valley of 
the Giants to face the world together, 
strong in their faith to live their lives 
and love their loves, to dream their 
dreams and perchance when life should 
be done with and the hour of rest at 
hand, to surrender, sustained and com¬ 
forted by the knowledge that those 
dreams had come true. 
BUYING “ON TIME” 
From personal experience we have 
learned the advantage of installment- 
plan buying. When one’s income is 
small it often means that a much- 
needed article for the home must be 
gone without for a long time while the 
price is slowly saved. However, by 
choosing a good, reliable firm to deal 
with, in your home town or not, as you 
prefer, the desired goods may be pur¬ 
chased and paid for in monthly install¬ 
ments. Besides the advantage of pos¬ 
sessing the article, there is the satis¬ 
faction of establishing one’s credit. 
If a reliable concern is chosen for 
your dealings, and you pay your in¬ 
stallments promptly, there is no reason 
why you should not be one of those who 
benefit by this practical method of 
furnishing your home. 
Like other things, moderation is the 
principle which makes “busring on time” 
successful. It is the abuse of the 
credit privilege instead of its use that 
has spoiled it for many people.—M. R. 
445 
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Make sure you get Post Toasties—in 
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You saw it in the American Agriculturist 
