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Show h5 When the robins meet again, And the flowers are in bloom, When the springtime's sunny smile Seems to vanish all sorrow and gloom, Then my bonnie blue-eyed lad, If my heart is true till then, Has promised he'll return to me, When the robins nest again. As I ran down the trail, I felt envious of that boy-for no other reason, I suppose, than that his mother was going to cook pancakes for him that night. Several times when I returned to Canyon City, I noticed footprints, larger than my own, around my tent. I was not surprised, therefore, when a few of my canvas bags were missing. I knew Soapy Smith controlled the trail. His methods included swindling and murder, and, of course, grub snatching. And since the stolen goods and the abandoned goods looked the same, it was impossible to claim them at the con men's trail-side stands, I kept a knife handy on my belt. No one v;as going to steal my supplies that I had packed 160 miles-and get away with it. To reach my tent earlier the next day, I packed only twenty-five pounds and did not stop to eat beans at Finnegan's Point. |