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braking； after which he and Fritz succeeded their father as the
town tailors。
Arthur sat about the sleepy little town all his lifehe died
before he was twenty…five。 The last time I saw him； when I was
home on one of my college vacations； he was sitting in a steamer
chair under a cottonwood tree in the little yard behind one of the
two Sandtown saloons。 He was very untidy and his hand was not
steady； but when he rose； unabashed； to greet me； his eyes were as
clear and warm as ever。 When I had talked with him for an hour and
heard him laugh again； I wondered how it was that when Nature had
taken such pains with a man； from his hands to the arch of his long
foot； she had ever lost him in Sandtown。 He joked about Tip
Smith's Bluff； and declared he was going down there just as soon as
the weather got cooler； he thought the Grand Canyon might be worth
while； too。
I was perfectly sure when I left him that he would never get
beyond the high plank fence and the comfortable shade of the
cottonwood。 And； indeed； it was under that very tree that he died
one summer morning。
Tip Smith still talks about going to New Mexico。 He married
a slatternly； unthrifty country girl； has been much tied to a
perambulator； and has grown stooped and grey from irregular
meals and broken sleep。 But the worst of his difficulties are now
over； and he has； as he says； come into easy water。 When I was
last in Sandtown I walked home with him late one moonlight night；
after he had balanced his cash and shut up his store。 We took the
long way around and sat down on the schoolhouse steps； and between
us we quite revived the romance of the lone red rock and the
extinct people。 Tip insists that he still means to go down there；
but he thinks now he will wait until his boy Bert is old enough to
go with him。 Bert has been let into the story； and thinks of
nothing but the Enchanted Bluff。
End