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Show page 81 The youth's denims f e l t tight through his groin. There was an itchy feeling in his boots. He breathed short. I t came, came as he had known it would come. "Any p a r t i c u l a r horse, Al?" asked Fritz. F r i t z ' s smile rolled up into s i l e n t laughter. The phrase rang in the youth's ears like the silver peal of a Sunday church b e l l . It had a clearness like the distant mountain peaks. " I ' v e had my eye on t h a t gelding," Jim said and pointed, "for a couple of months now. For you, .-il, the t a l l gun-metal one, for you." They laughed aloud. They were a l l kindred. They were a l l of the strength of the land. That summer he was a youth, almost a man but yet a youth, and through the eyes of a youth he saw the glamour of the range and the color of a l l things, in roseate panorama, extending on and on and on . . . . We were proud of Al Bonner. He enlarged our world and made our lives more receptive. But Al d i d n ' t live long in our town, once he was full grown and educated. He went away to San Francisco, and according to Mulberry Dillard, editor of our local paper, accepted employment with the Del Monte Corporation, using a l l his acquired knowledge of Theseus, Odysseus, Buddha, Gilgamesh, Orpheus, Quetzalcoatl, Jesus in the writing of advertisement for tomato catsup. |
