There were Esmond Clarenden and Jondo, in the prime of middle life,
the one a little bald, and more than a little stout; the other's heavy
hair was streaked with gray, but the erect form and tremendous physical
strength told how well the plains life had fortified the man of fifty
for the years before him. The prairies had long since become his home;
but whether in scout service for the Government, or as wagon-master for
a Clarenden train on the trail, he was the same big, brave, loyal
Jondo.
And there was Rex Krane, tall, easy-going old Rex, with his wife beside
him. Mat was a fair-faced young matron now, with something Madonna-like
in her calm poise and kindly spirit. Two little boys, Esmond, and Rex,
Junior, clinging to her gown, smiled a shy welcome at us.
In the background loomed the shining face and huge form of Aunty Boone.
She had never seemed bigger to me, even in my little-boy days, when I
considered her a giant. Her eyes grew dull as she looked at us.
"Clean faces and finger-nails now. Got to stain 'em up 'bout once more
'fore you are through. Hungry as ever, I'll bet. I'll get your supper
right away. Whoo-ee!"
As she turned away, Mat said:
"There is somebody else here, boys, that you will be glad to meet.
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