I can still see those two men sitting on the
bench; Otto's close-clipped head and Jake's
shaggy hair slicked flat in front by a wet
comb. I can see the sag of their tired shoul-
ders against the whitewashed wall. What
good fellows they were, how much they knew,
and how many things they had kept faith
with!

Fuchs had been a cowboy, a stage-driver, a
bar-tender, a miner; had wandered all over
that great Western country and done hard
work everywhere, though, as grandmother
said, he had nothing to show for it. Jake was
duller than Otto. He could scarcely read,
wrote even his name with difficulty, and
he had a violent temper which sometimes
made him behave like a crazy man -- tore
him all to pieces and actually made him ill.
But he was so soft-hearted that any one could
impose upon him. If he, as he said, "forgot
himself" and swore before grandmother, he
went about depressed and shamefaced all day.
They were both of them jovial about the cold
in winter and the heat in summer, always
ready to work overtime and to meet emergen-
cies. It was a matter of pride with them not
to spare themselves. Yet they were the sort

[[76]]

p075 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p076w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p077

v?