Footprints by Kay Cleaver Strahan

I

September 10, 1900.

Judith dearest: Christopher, I think, is going to sell Q 2 Ranch. It seems odd and perhaps not right that a private disaster like this should completely overshadow, for us, the terrible disaster in Galveston day before yesterday. But it has. I think that Christopher gave us credit for more altruism, and so told us yesterday when we were all so troubled over the Galveston sufferers. I think that he thought our own trouble would diminish by comparison. It has not.

When all the mortgages are paid, Christopher will have about $9,000 left over. If he and Irene take half, that will leave $4,500 for Grandfather, Father, Olympe, Uncle Phineas, Aunt Gracia, you, Greg, Neal, and me.

Christopher says that we can buy a pleasant Willamette Valley farm for less than half of that, and start free and clear. That will be much better, he says, since this place is too large for Father and Neal to handle, especially since Father's health is so uncertain.

Indeed, Christopher declares, Father's health is one of his chief reasons for selling. He thinks it is not fair to expect Father to carry on this struggle under a load of debt. Aside from the sentiment attached to the place, Christopher says, a smaller place, clear of debt, would be better for everyone. However, he says he will not act hastily, nor counter to our wishes in the matter. The offer is open for sixty days.

No one says anything. No one will say anything. I mean, not anything at all. I mean, not one single word. Not, "Yes, Christopher," or, "No, Christopher. " I believe that Uncle Phineas might talk, if he were here. Uncle Phineas is lost.

Neal and I are the only ones who know this. After Christopher broke the news to us yesterday morning, Neal and I rode to Quilterville. We sent a telegram to Uncle Phineas, in care of Dr. Joe. Neal had to tell me what he was going to do because he had to borrow my pocket money, to put with his money, to send the telegram. We stayed in Quilterville several hours waiting for the reply. When it came it was from Dr. Joe. It said: "Phineas not here. Mum's the word. No occasion for worry. He is O. K. Joe."

We had no money to answer that telegram. Neal says he thinks that Uncle Phineas has gone on another prospecting trip. It is odd, because Olympe got a letter from him this morning, written in Portland and mailed from there. I picked up the envelope and looked to see the postmark.

Neal thinks that Uncle Phineas wrote several letters, and left them for Dr. Joe to mail in regular order. It would not be unlike Uncle Phineas. The fact that Olympe had sent him her garnet set to be cleaned, and that he did not mention it in this letter, might seem to prove Neal right. Olympe has written, now, to have him sell the set instead.

Aunt Gracia is going to sell Great-great-great-grandmother's silver tea set. It is hers, you know. Olympe says the Turkey carpets belong to Uncle Phineas and have ever since he settled the estate in Virginia. She is going to have him sell them. The amount should keep you and Greg in comparative comfort for a long time, she thinks. Aunt Gracia is hoping for a teacher's position. She is hunting out old books to bone up for the examinations. Neal plans to stay right here and work for his board only, if necessary. Grandfather will apply for his pension after all these years. It will be about seventeen dollars a month.

Aunt Gracia has asked me to come and help her now, so I must go. Dear, I love you and Greg very, very much. -Lucy.

II

September 21, 1900.

Dearest, dearest Judy-pudy: If you have worked out, in your philosophy for living, any special thing to say or to do to prepare you for a shock, it would be wise to say or do it right now. I have very bad news to tell you.

The stress and worry of the last several months, combined with darling Father's ill health and the final news that Q 2 is to be sold, has unhinged his mind. Just a little bit, Judy dear. Not enough so that any of us had noticed it. Truly, truly. We had no idea of such a thing, before the blow fell. And, if the blow had not fallen, we would not know it now. He seems just the same as always. Truly he does, Judy. Perhaps a little sweeter and kinder-but really just the same. So, when you think of dear, darling Father, think of him as acting just as he acted when you and Greg left home in March. If you were to walk right into the room this minute, you would not see a bit of difference in Father's mentality. Truly, truly you wouldn't, Judy. But, dear, the truth is that Father is now a baptized Siloamite. But remember quickly, Judy, before this makes you ill or anything: _Father is just the same wonderful man._

Wednesday those two pleasant young missionaries, Mr. Cordinger and Mr. Withmore, came to the house. Since they knew nothing about our troubles, and were jolly and interesting, it was almost a blessing to have them. If they had not unhinged dear, darling Father's mind, it would still be better than not to have them here. They are staying on, in the attic room, for a week or so. You know they never force their religious views on anyone, or even ask anyone to join their church; so how it could have happened that they unhinged Father's mind, I cannot understand.

To-day, when they and Aunt Gracia and darling Father started to drive to Quilter River, we had no idea that Father was not in a normal state. Judith, when they got to Quilter River, Father allowed himself to be baptized in it. They all came home and deliberately told us.

Knowing Father as we know him, and knowing his opinions of even less ornamental nonconformist religions, of course such an act can mean but one thing. I have not found courage yet to discuss the matter with anyone except Neal, not even with Grandfather.

Neal says that he thinks there is some dark, sinister meaning behind it, like blackmail. Neal says that Christopher thinks so, too. If Christopher does think this, it seems odd that he has now ridden to Quilterville to mail a letter asking Dr. Joe to come to Father.