Lon

“ Lon Simpson bellowed into the beamphone. He heard clicking, then Cathy's voice. It was at once reproachful and sympathetic.
"Lon! Please!"
But Lon couldn't talk to her. He panted at her, and hung up. It is essential to a young man in love that he shine, somehow, in the eyes of the girl he cares for. Lon was not shining. He was appearing as the Galaxy's prize sap. He'd invested a sizable fortune in his farm. He was a good farmer—hard-working and skilled. In the matter of repairing generators, he'd proved to be a genius. But he was at the mercy of the Cetis Gamma Company's representative. ”

“ The one dream the girl had had was a dream of long hair, ankle dresses, and girl's shoes. Until that year Lon had insisted that her hair be kept short, and had himself trimmed the ebony curls every month. Now, in the damp air, they twisted and turned in the wildest profusion. The coming of womanhood had thrown new light into the clear-gray, brown-flecked eyes. At this moment she was wondering what she and her brother would do if Granny Cronk died. She shivered as she thought of life in the hut without the protecting old woman. ”

“ Lon doubles his fists and strikes; but the blow lands in the air as Seth grabs Lon. They fight furiously and in dead earnest, though there is no ethics to the struggle. The rickety furniture trembles as they advance and retreat. Seth is quicker and lighter and less easily winded; but Lon's bulk is not readily moved, and, despite his "weak back," he can still wield his arms. It looks like a fight to the finish. Isn't their future at stake? And they are giving vent to a hatred bred by their father. ”

“ The Flush of Gold that I knew, that Dawson knew, and that Forty Mile knew before that, is dead. That dumb, lunatic creature we saw last night was not Flush of Gold."
"And Dave?" I queried.
"He built that cabin," Lon answered. "He built it for her . . . and for himself. He is dead. She is waiting for him there. She half believes he is not dead. But who can know the whim of a crazed mind? Maybe she wholly believes he is not dead. At any rate, she waits for him there in the cabin he built. Who would rouse the dead? Then who would rouse the living that are dead? ”

“ Lem insisted.
"Then, if ye has Flea, Lem," said Lon, looking keenly at the scowman, "and ye git yer share of money, ye has to share up yer half with me. See?"
"Yep," muttered Lem. "Will ye bring the feller down here some day, and we'll talk it over?"
Lon acquiesced by a nod of his head, saying only, "Come on out, and let's get a drink."
"When's he goin' to git 'em—Flea and Flukey, I mean?"
"I dunno. The boy's too sick to come to court. He's liable to die any minute." ”

“ The lad to whom Lon referred was Hagle, whose movements and bearing justified the comparison he had drawn. Hagle was behaving like a satellite of Zorn, bearing him company, following him about, now drawing close, now retiring, uneasily alert for word of command. Lon whistled softly.
“Talk about coach dogs runnin’ under a wagon or after it——” he said to himself. “Somehow that’s kind of a poor job for a human. And that feller ain’t gettin’ the fun out [73] of it that a dog does; he ain’t happy.... ”

“ Everett Brimbecomb took the letter Lon Cronk handed him, without rising from his chair.
"It be for Flea," said Lon, grinning, "and I think she'll understand it. It's as plain as that nose on yer face, Mister."
"May I read it?" asked the lawyer indifferently. Then, as Lon nodded, he slipped the letter deftly from the finger-marked envelop and read the contents with a smile. "It's strong enough," he said, replacing it. "I, too, think she'll succumb to that. If you'll leave this letter with me, I'll see that she gets it." ”

“ Lon moved nearer her as he spoke. "Ye be my brat, and ye'll come home with yer pappy!"
Fledra choked for breath.
"I can't go with you tonight," she replied, bending over in supplication. "Flukey's sick here, and I have to stay." [Pg 168]
"Sick! Sick, ye say?" Cronk exclaimed.
"Yes, he's been in bed ever since we left home, and he can't walk, and I won't go without him."
"I'll take ye both," said Lon ferociously. "I'll come after ye, and I'll kill the man what keeps ye away from me! I'm a thinkin' a man can have his own brats!" ”

“ Lem lifted the steel hook in deep reflection and caught the clasps together.
"I'm a wonderin', Lon," he said presently, "if I'm to ever git her."
"Yep, tomorry," assured Lon.
"Honest Injun?" demanded Lem.
"Honest Injun," replied Lon. "If ye takes her tonight, she'll only cut up like the devil. That's the worst of them damn women, they be too techy when they come of stock like her."
"I like 'em when they're techy—it ain't so easy to make 'em do what a man wants 'em to as 'tis t'other kind—say like Scraggy. ”

“ They looked around as Mark was pushed to the doorway between the guide and another man. Facing him, with his hands outspread over a paper, Mark saw Chun Lon, who smiled slowly and quite cordially. Mark started to say, "You villain!" and thought better of it. He merely looked at Chun Lon instead.
"How do," said the Chinese briskly. "You come make little business, yes? Can do? See, you write here—just little tiny two word—just your name, yes? ”

“ This seemed to give Lon his text.
“I’m right down sorry for that Hagle boy,” he said. “Still, there’s more or less o’ what’s called alleviatin’ circumstances. He’s like a feller that’s been needin’ a bath mighty bad, but when he gets one, finds he’s in awful hot water. And he squirms, and wriggles, and sweats, but all the while it’s doin’ him a heap o’ good. Why? Because he’s gettin’ clean. And when the dirt’s good and thick and caked on, as you might say, it takes a real b’ilin’ out to start it good and proper. But I reckon Hagle’s gettin’ his laundryin’ all right. He’s doin’ well, to date. ”

“ As if by its own volition, the hook rose threateningly to within a short distance of the fair, appealing face. But it dropped again, as Lon repeated:
"That ain't nothin' to do with the thing, nuther, Flea. A man ain't a seekin' for a lovin' woman. He wants her to take care of his shanty and what he gets by hard work, he does, and he gives her victuals and drink for the doin' of it. That's enough for you, or for any gal what's a squatter."
So well did Flea realize the powerlessness of the rigid boy at her side to help her, that she dropped his hand and alone went nearer to the thief. ”

“ The day for the fulfil [Pg 24] ment of Lon Cronk's revenge had arrived. That afternoon Lon had come from Ithaca with his brother Eli to meet Lem.
"Be ye goin' to steal the kids tonight, Lon?" asked Lem.
"Yep, tonight."
"Why don't ye take just one? It'd make 'em sit up and note a bit to crib, say, the boy."
"We'll take 'em both," replied Lon decisively.
"And if we get caught?" stammered Crabbe.
"We don't get caught," assured Lon darkly, "'cause tonight's the time for 'em all to be busy 'bout the Vandecar house. I know, I do—no matter how!" ”

“ His shirt, stained with sweat, is opened at the throat, revealing red flannel underwear. When Seth sees Lon he immediately closes the bedroom door, silently turns the key in the lock, and puts the key in his pocket. For a moment the men stand looking at each other, reminding one of two roosters. Then Seth strolls to the stove, pours the water into the kettle, and planks himself down in the rocker. Lon glances once or twice at the bedroom door, but moves not to it. He watches Seth suspiciously. Finally he speaks.]
Lon [in an expressionless drawl] . I hear Pa's dyin'.
Seth. Yuh hear right. ”

“ Lon shook his head. “Sam,” he said, “if I thought this was a real in-growin’ attack, I’d be worried a heap wuss than I am. But I’m worried enough as it is. Now, I’ll give you a good tip. If you don’t want to see the other boys, go for a good, long tramp. Walk it off! That’s jest what the real hedgehog can’t do—his legs ain’t long enough.”
“No fun walking—day like this.”
Lon was a patient soul. “Wal, why don’t you go huntin’, then?”
“What for? Rabbits?”
“If you can’t get anything bigger. ”

“ Lon gave the rug another flick with the brush.
“By and large, son,” he remarked, “it ain’t good business to have hedgehog days. I know, I know! When you’re feelin’ that way, that’s the way you feel, as the fox said to the bear in the trap. But you ain’t doin’ yourself no good, and you ain’t any perticular help to the rest of the community.”
“Hang the community!”
“Jest what the hedgehog says,” quoth Lon tranquilly. He carried his rug into the barn; brought out another; brushed skilfully for a minute.
“Hunt up some of the boys, Sam,” he advised. ”

“ He goes away up there only because he's too lazy to pull straight across where the current's strong," grumbled Lon, who had a passion for short cuts, and who kept urging his companion to head the canoe more directly toward their destination, until at last Alec, for very peace's sake, and against his better judgment, altered their course in compliance with his wishes. ”

“ Lon glanced at Groche. The light was strengthening, and the alarming appearance of the man’s face was undeniable. A very [341] sick man was Peter Groche, at least to the eye of a layman.
“Jiminy, but something’s got to be tried!” Lon confessed. “And followin’ the South Fork would be different from stragglin’ aimless. I dunno, I dunno!”
Sam pressed his advantage. “I do know, then. And Lon! The quicker I start, the better.”
“I reckon that’s true,” said Lon slowly. “Yes; if you’re dead sot to go, there’s no good in lingerin’. And you’re as husky as any of the boys. ”

“ Lon. Yuh ain't. We with three mouths t' feed. Yer a swindler, yuh are. Yuh always tried t' cheat me.
Seth. No one kin say that t' me. I'm an honest man. But I'm a goin' 't heve the two acres if I heve t' go t' law.
Lon. Wall, yuh ain't a goin' t' wreck me.
Seth [calmly; philosophically again] . Maybe yer right, Lon, when yuh say I ought t' have a roof. I'll tell yuh what I'll do, seein' as how yer my brother. Yuh give me the ground an' the house on it, an' I'll make yuh a present o' twenty-five dollars.
Lon. That's a lie! Yuh ain't got twenty-five dollars t' yer name. ”

“ It consoled Lona, however, to learn which he was, for she had been expecting him to grow a bad giant, from which worst of fates death had saved him. The leopardess sprang upon his murderer, took him by the throat, dragged him into the street, and followed Lona with him, like a cat with a great rat in her jaws.
“Let us leave the horrible place,” said Lona; “there are no mothers here! This people is not worth delivering.” ”

“ He was all the while prowlin’ through the woods, diggin’ up roots for his medicines; and he called himself a hermit; and he built himself a mighty queer house off by his lonesome, a stone house, and——”
“I’ve seed it,” one of the men broke in. “What’s left of it’s standin’ over on the South Fork, not ten mile from here. But ’twa’n’t all stone. Calleck got tired o’ luggin’ rock, and topped it off anyhow he could.”
“Like enough!” said Lon. “I’ve never been to the house, but that’s about the fashion old Calleck’d ’a’ done any job. But I’ll get [275] on to where Wallowby and the bear come in. ”

“ Whiter than the light itself—far, far lighter than any reflected rays could make it.
Inside the all-encompassing, roasting grid of the melting suit, Lonnie writhed. Faintly, as the suit failed, his screams came through—momentarily. Then they were gone as the fused, molten heap subsided lower ... lower ... began to trickle across the dazzling, ice-white marble of the floor.
Afterward, had Jason known anything at all about Lonnie's Philosophy, he'd have immediately supplied another "rule"; making a foursome out of the "Triple Ethic": "If you do it yourself, make sure you know what you're doing." ”

“ Surely, I thought, no suppression of their growth can be essential to their loveliness and truth and purity! Not in any world could the possibility exist of such a discord between constitution and its natural outcome! Life and law cannot be so at variance that perfection must be gained by thwarting development! But the growth of the Little Ones WAS arrested! something interfered with it: what was it? Lona seemed the eldest of them, yet not more than fifteen, and had been long in charge of a multitude, in semblance and mostly in behaviour merest children, who regarded her as their mother! ”

“ Calling to mind the appeal of Adam, I suggested to Lona that to find them water might perhaps expedite the growth of the Little Ones. She judged it prudent, however, to leave that alone for the present, as we did not know what its first consequences might be; while, in the course of time, it would almost certainly subject them to a new necessity.
"They are what they are without it!" she said: "when we have the city, we will search for water!" ”

“ Here, among the limestone rocks, the succulent cactus, and the drought-parched grass of that arid valley, had been born the Boy Artist. Why he came to woo art is beyond postulation. Beyond doubt, some spore of the afflatus must have sprung up within him in spite of the desert soil of San Saba. The tricksy spirit of creation must have incited him to attempted expression and then have sat hilarious among the white-hot sands of the valley, watching its mischievous work. For Lonny’s picture, viewed as a thing of art, was something to have driven away dull care from the bosoms of the critics. ”

“ Lonigan paused, to get the effect.
"Of course," he continued, "There isn't anyone else on the island. Nobody at all! And no radio, no newspapers, no way at all to hear from the outside world. Yes sir, Don, you'll be a real Robinson Crusoe. But just think, for two months, you'll get paid your regular salary; we're taking care of that. You can read, fish, think, maybe even write a book if you feel like it. Ever think about writing a book, Don?" ”