heads in the clouds and their eyes on the roseate future were there through his efforts. Appreciative of this fact, the Major's eyes were kindly as they gazed upon the editor's retreating back.
His expression was benignity itself as his glance turned lovingly to the Prouty House and the White Hand Laundry — the latter in particular being a milestone on the road of Progress since it heralded the fact that the day was not far distant when a man could wear a boiled shirt without embarrassing comment. Three saloons, the General Merchandise Emporium, and " Doc " Fussel's drug store completed the list of business enterprises as yet, but others were in contemplation and a bottling works was underway. Oh, yes, Prouty was indelibly on the map.
The Major's complacent smile changed to a slight frown as a man in a black tall crowned hat stopped to rest his back against the post of the Laundry sign.
It had reached the Major's ears that Mormon Joe had said that Prouty had no more future than a prairie dog town. He had been In his cups at the time but that did not palliate the offense.
Now, there — there was the kind of a man that helped a town The Major's brow cleared as Jasper Toomey swung round the corner by the Prouty House and clattered down the main street sitting high-headed and arrogant in a Brewster cart. Spent money like a prince — he did. A few more people like the Toomeys and the future of the country was assured.
In the meantime Toomey had brought the velvet mouthed horse to its haunches in front of the laundry where he tossed a bundle into the sheep man's arms, saying, casually :
" Take that inside, my man."
29
