Excerpt from The Archive, Vol. 39: October, 1926
The boy smiled. He took off his hat and packed it with the clothes slung around his back. There was the tan of long days beneath the sun on his cheeks, hiding the tired lines which otherwise would certainly have shown themselves. He was a slight boy, a mere blade of grass in comparison to these weeds of men he traveled with. He glanced furtively at the old man. Across his mind there came that memory of the day when he had first met Dad. Somewhere out in Kansas, two weeks ago - he had never taken the trouble to recall it before. The temperature had been unbearable, nearly a hundred and twenty in the shade, and even the mules that drew the header barge had given away, and it had become necessary to rest them. He remem bered now sitting beneath the wagon, protected from the intense heat, when the old man had come over from the other rack with a cool jug of water which one of the boys had brought from the farmhouse. It was a case of adoption, lie mused, humorously.
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