From the Children’s Friend, 1924 –

Cowboy Kim

By Ida Stewart Peay
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Chapter 1.

“I Don’t want to go away from the ranch,” said Kim decisively.

Peter Sloane regarded his small nephew with deep concern in his eyes. “It’s quite natural that you shouldn’t wish to leave, Kim,” he said kindly. “Your whole life has been spent in this beautiful spot, and all the memories of your dear mother and father and even of good old Buck are centered around this place. But now that they are all gone – well, you cannot stay here alone!”

The little boy heaved a deep sigh and leaned limply for an instant on the old kitchen table. “I think I can,” he mused speculatively.

“Impossible,” put in Mrs. Sloane who had been impatiently waiting for her husband to end this conversation so they could pack preparatory to leaving.

“No, you could not stay here alone, Kim,” corrected Mr. Sloane gently, “that is quite out of the question. I know of nothing to do but take you with us back to town. Besides, long before your mother died she planned that you should live with me and your Aunt Mabel and go to school when she felt she could no longer teach you or, rather when she considered you should have the contact and companionship afforded by school life.”

“Indeed, she did,” Mrs. Sloane again offered, hoping to help matters on a little faster.

“I can’t be a cowboy in town, Uncle Pete,” argued Kim with a mere nod to his aunt’s remark.

Peter Sloane laughed softly. “Well, perhaps not,” he agreed, then added quickly with a whimsical smile, “but you might get to be the President of the United States if you go to school and study hard. Wouldn’t that do about as well?” The child turned the corners of his little red mouth down scornfully as though he knew perfectly well the improbability of such a thing. “You used to say you were going to be President!” Mr. Sloane reminded him by way of defending the apparently foolish suggestion.

“Yes, when I was a little kid,” scoffed Kim disdainfully, then drawing himself up to his full height he added, “Now I want to be a cowboy! Buck was a cowboy; and Dad was getting to be one. An’ I got old ’Sandro left! ’Sandro’s the fastest runner in this country!” The boy’s eyes began to sparkle as he made this brag.

“But, Kim, my boy, I’m sorry to tell you that we’ll have to sell old ’Sandro as well as the ranch. There were so many bills. You see, it was a big undertaking and was working out fine but – well, you understand, don’t you?” Anyone could see that it was very hard for Mr. Sloane to add this last disappointment to the little fellow’s woes; but there seemed no other course.

At first Kim just stared at his uncle as though he did not – could not believe him. This, after all the rest was too much! It surely couldn’t be true! His eyes began to smart, his lips quivered painfully. He wanted to shout – “No, no, you can’t sell ’Sandro!” – but he could only blink his eyelids rapidly and hold his mouth together with the greatest determination. he must not have them think him a baby. he had always been treated as if he were a grown person and he must, therefore, act like one. Suddenly he could feel rather than see his aunt’s eyes upon him, and he grew more uncomfortable.

Finally Mrs. Sloane spoke. “Peter,” she said, “don’t waste so much time. We’ll be obliged to hurry to get off on that two-twenty train.”

Kim did not hear what she said. It was the tone of her voice that sent him stumbling hurriedly from the room and out into the meadow to hide his unmanly tears.

When the boy was out of hearing, Mrs. Sloane took her husband to task. “Peter,” she began with the best meaning in the world, “I am afraid you are going to spoil the child right at the start. You know – and he ought to know, that he must go home with us. But it looks like you are going to spend the rest of the day trying to convince him of a perfectly evident fact.”

“I want him to go willingly,” explained Mr. Sloane. “My sister was so gentle, so careful of his feelings; her corrections and teachings were all given in such a kindly spirit –”

“Yes, of course, one can see that Clara has been decidedly easy with the by,” returned Mabel Sloane. “That was all very well out here, perhaps, where he had no playmates and no chance of getting into mischief, and she had plenty of time to devote to him; but when we get him in town where there are other boys to lead him off we are going to find him quite a trial if we are not firm in the beginning. Wallie Carson is dreadfully hard to handle.”

“Kim is not going to be difficult,” Mr. Sloan assured her placidly.

Further discussion was prevented by the appearance of a caller. It was the man who wished to buy the race horse, the much talked of Allesandro, or ’Sandro as Kim called him. Mr. Sloane went out to attend to the business of the sale; but in a few minutes every one was thrown into consternation.

’Sandro was not in his stall, nor in the barn, nor in any of the corrals, nor in the little pasture which joined the barn-yard. In a puzzled state of mind Mr. Sloan sought his small nephew – he would, no doubt, know where the horse could be found. Kim was called and called, the buyer yelled Kim’s name loudly a number of times, and even Baby-Belle went around lisping – “K-i-m-b-a-l-l, K-i-m-b-a-l-l,” in her baby tones; but the boy did not appear nor make any reply. Then a search began which covered the whole place. They sought for him in the house and in the garden, and in the small orchard, and in the milk room by the spring, also in the old willow trees that lined the roadway, as well as in the barns and in the calf pens and along the wide slough in the meadow; they looked for him everywhere they could think of but no Kim could be found.

It was extremely provoking. Everyone was annoyed and worried. Even Mr. Sloane was out of sorts and anxious. The buyer declared constantly that he was in such a hurry he could not wait much longer. But he did wait an hour or two, telling his varied experiences in life meanwhile to pass the time. His well meant remarks failed to enthrall Mrs. Sloane; she was almost ill with impatience when all of a sudden there appeared over the brow of the hill in the near distance a horse and rider galloping towards them at a furious gait.

It was ’Sandro – no other horse could be making such remarkable time. As the two drew nearer the watchers could see that the noble animal was breaking the world’s record in a mad, reckless race, while astride his round back moving in perfect unison with the flying steed, his hair blow back from his forehead, his coat flapping behind him in the breeze was little Kim – “Cowboy Kim,” as he proudly called himself. He was leaning forward in his saddle like a fore-sure jockey, his eyes keen, one hand on the reins on the horse’s neck, the other wildly wielding a tiny, harmless whip. The brave young cowboy and his handsome thoroughbred surely made a picture to stir the blood in the veins of the watchers.

His uncle gave an admiring gasp. “How that little scamp can ride! No wonder he wants to be a cowboy! Why, he would make a star performer in a circus!” he bragged excitedly.

By this time Kim had brought his foaming mount to a standstill. Slipping easily to the ground he threw the bridle reins over the racer’s head and walked straight to his uncle.

“I ran away on ’Sandro,” he said simply. “I was going to be a wild man and live I the hills. I didn’t want to go to town. I went up to Breecher’s Cave on Skull Hill. It’s pretty up there. There are lots of grassy slopes and some trees. The cave’s clean – it’s nothing but rock – an’ I could see the ranch from there, – but I – I got to thinking. I knew Mother and Dad wouldn’t want me to stay up in the hills. They would want me to go to town and to school. Mother used to talk often about when I should go to school. so I came back.” His face was hopeless and resigned; but he brightened wonderfully as he thought of something. “Ask the man if I can buy ’Sandro back when I get big,” he said eagerly as he came closer to his uncle and leaned confidently against his knee.

The man who was to get the prize horse, being near enough to hear Kim’s request, smiled oddly, “You bet you can buy the nag back when you grow up,” he promised, ready to indulge the whim of a forlorn child. Everybody in this part of the country respected and admired Selman and his beautiful accomplished wife; and everybody now sympathized with their orphan child. I ain’t ever goin’ to sell him to no one else, you can just bet your neck I ain’t. I’m mighty tickled to own old ’Sandro an’ I ain’t denyin’ it, but I’ll give him up when you get big enough to earn his price.”

Kim looked greatly mollified. He believed the man utterly. It was his experience that these old ranchers around the Deer Run did not say idle words. The boy’s interest in life revived. he had suddenly an objective. Some wonderful end to work towards; because, it popped into his head that moment that he could work hard and earn money, and finally buy back the precious old Deer Run, and all his beloved animals and pets, especially the famous ’Sandro. Instantly his head went up and into his small face came the eager, questioning, intelligent look that had been his habitual expression. His mind was naturally full of ideas and plans grew in its soil like mushrooms in a marsh. So he at once began to scheme how he would earn money to carry out his heart’s desire. He might ride horses in a circus, he speculated.

As though in tune with this thought, Mr. Sloane, not having recovered from his surprise at Kim’s feat on old ’Sandro, asked with glowing interest, “Who taught you to ride that way, my boy?”

Kim’s smile was reminiscent. “Old Buck,” he answered proudly. “Buck was the best trick rider in this state, you know. everybody knows that! He’s had me learning stunts since I can first remember. I can ride standing up,” he boasted excitedly. “Does Baby-Belle want to see me?”

Speaking two words for himself and one for the child, Peter Sloane declared that Baby-Belle would be delighted to watch such a marvelous performance. Then he, himself, borrowed old ’Sandro from the new owner and cleared a space for the ring. Elaborately explaining his maneuvers to his tiny daughter he outlined a large circle with a big stick and importantly led the horse around several times. While he was making these preparations with mock gravity, to kindle the little girl’s interest, Kim went into the house on some particular errand. In a few minutes he was back carrying something in his hands at which he peeped now and then mysteriously.

Of course, it was lump sugar and Kim sparkled with pleasure as he fed it to his horse. It seems that animals have a sweet tooth as well as little boys and girls. It was fun to see old ’Sandro enjoy his refreshments. he would lift a lump daintily out of Kim’s palm and crush it quickly between his teeth. Then he would arch his handsome neck and prance a little showily, and pretend to paw the dirt with one of his front feet as much as to say that now he had received his pay he was ready to perfor4m.

With a helping hand from his Uncle Pete Kim sprang into his place with ease and agility. The saddle had been removed and so had Kim’s shoes, therefore, when he had found the broadest place on the pony’s back for his feet he stood proudly and fearlessly erect. Then holding a tight rein he spoke softly to old ’Sandro. “Giddup,” he purred. “Giddup!”

The noble animal seemed to understand the situation as well as anyone present. Arching his neck he began to gallop as slowly and easily as he could; almost under Kim’s guiding hand, in the exact circle Mr. Sloane had mapped out. To the delight of the small audience, who breathlessly awaited the outcome, Kim held his position until he had made the circle, then he slipped and fell. Not upon the ground but astride his good steed where he sat laughing proudly while those who had witnessed his exploit declared he was a fine rider. peter Sloane made no secret of his pride and pleasure.

“He’s the best performer for a kid of his age I have ever seen,” he vowed.

Then Kim did a few stunts with a lariat which further aroused admiration and Mr. Sloane decided that the boy had rightfully earned the title of “Cowboy Kim.” Also, the buyer was fully as enthusiastic as Mr. Sloane and the child was naturally highly elated over their warm and earnest praise. In this mood he watched the rancher and ’Sandro, his good four-footed friend, depart without comment. In a few minutes he turned away and began to amuse himself, child like, with Baby-Belle.

During this scene Mrs. Sloane had held her peace. But now she spoke up impatiently, “Kim, do you know you caused us to miss the two-twenty train?

Kim looked around at her, his big grey eyes troubled and serious. “I’m sorry!” he murmured. Then he edged up to his uncle and lifted appealing eyes. “I’m so sorry! he said again. “I’m awfully sorry!”

“I know you are,” conceded his uncle, patting him affectionately on the head. ‘Your little mother was the last person in the world to wish to cause anyone annoyance; and I’m sure her son is going to be just like her.’ Kim’s eyes were swimming in tears at this tender reference to his dear mother; he turned quickly and walked away to hide his emotion.

Mrs. Sloane faced her husband soberly. “Now, Peter,” she said, “You know that is not the way to bring up a child. After he has run away and caused us all sorts of trouble you do not even reprove him.”

“Couldn’t you see that he had repented?” asked Mr. Sloane. “Besides I don’t suppose he was ever scolded in his life.”

“That may be, but we must not spoil him because Clara did,” argued the wife, still unconvinced.

“A child under Clara’s influence could hardly be anything but noble, straightforward and considerate,” was Mr. Sloane’s verdict as he hurried away to attend to the business at hand.

Mabel Sloane shook her head gravely. She had serious misgivings about the trials that were ahead of her in the rearing of this strange boy. Her husband, it appeared, was going to be very lenient with him; this course on his part would make the burden much harder for her. Not for a moment could she get these thoughts out of her mind and their constant contemplation kept her quite ill at ease.

The preparations for leaving the Deer Run ranch were at last completed and the little party started on their long journey. The worst that could be said of Kim’s behavior on the trip was that he asked questions incessantly. Everything was new and strange and Kim was soon nearly bursting with curiosity and anticipation. Going away from the farm was not half as bad as he had feared: in fact, there was no such to see and learn that his wonderful past was, for the time being, pushed quietly into the background. The splendid sights kept him in a state of not very well suppressed excitement. All the farms and orchards, mountains, rivers, canals, towns and the ever increasing number of people elicited innumerable questions from him. At last his Aunt Mabel burst into an exclamation.

“Mercy!” she cried. “That child can think of more questions in a minute than any ordinary person could conjure in a year.”

It was late at night when Mr. Sloane’s home town was reached. Everybody was weary and travel worn. Kim was very grateful for the comfortable room and bed his aunt hastily arranged for him and he told her so with warm thanks. She felt now quite cheerful and reassured. No doubt the boy was going to be alright after all.

However, the very next morning she was again in despair. When she went to call Kim to breakfast he was not in his bed nor on the place. He had run away again!

(To be continued)