Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you.
And let all the worries of the day drift away.
This is your time and your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
After many days The square bare front room of the Baxter Station Hotel,
So called because there was no other house in the place to dispute the title,
Was filled with men.
Some of them were putting up at the hotel while they worked at the new branch line and some of them had dropped in to exchange news and banter while waiting for the mail train.
Gabe Foley,
The proprietor,
Was playing at checkers with one of the railroad men but was not too deeply absorbed in the game to take in all that was said around him.
The air was dim with tobacco smoke and the brilliant scarlet geraniums which Mrs Foley kept in the bay window looked oddly out of place.
Gabe knew all those present except one man,
A stranger who had landed at Baxter Station from the afternoon freight.
Foley's hotel did not boast of a register and the stranger did not volunteer any information regarding his name or business.
He'd put in the afternoon and early evening strolling about the village and talking to the men on the branch line.
Now he had come in and ensconced himself in the corner behind the stove where he preserved a complete silence.
He had rather a rough face and was flashily dressed.
Altogether Gabe hardly liked his looks.
But as long as a man paid his bill and did not stir up a row,
Gabe Foley did not interfere with him.
Three or four farms from out Greenvale Way were drawn up by the stove discussing the cheese factory sales and various Greenvale happenings.
The stranger appeared to be listening to them intently although he took no part in their conversation.
Presently he brought his tilted chair down with a sharp thud.
Gabe Foley had paused in his manipulation of a king to hurl a question at the Greenvale men.
Is it true old man Strong's to be turned out next week?
True enough,
Answered William Jeffers.
Joe Moore's got a foreclose.
Stephen Strong's got three years behind him with the interest and Moore's out of patience.
It seems hard on old Stephen,
But Moore ain't the man to hesitate for that.
He'll have his own out of it.
What will the Strongs do?
Asked Gabe.
That's a question everyone in Greenvale's asking.
Lizzie Strong's always been a delicate little girl but maybe she'll manage to scare up a living.
Old Stephen's to be the most pitied.
I don't see anything for him but the poorhouse.
How did Stephen Strong come to get into such a tight place?
The stranger asked suddenly.
When I was in his parts a good many years ago he was considered quite a well-to-do man.
So he was,
Replied William Jeffers.
But he began to get in debt when his wife took sick and he spent no end of money on doctors and medicines.
Then he seemed to have a streak of bad luck besides.
Crops failed,
Cows died and all that sort of thing.
He's been going behind ever since.
He kind of lost heart when his wife died.
Now more's going to foreclose.
It's my opinion poor old Stephen won't live any time if he's turned out of his home.
Do you know what the mortgage comes to?
Near three thousand,
Counting overdue.
I'm sorry for old Stephen,
Said Gabe returning to his game.
If anyone deserves a peaceful old age,
He does.
He's helped more people than you could count.
He was always the best Christian in Greenvale,
In or out of it.
He was too good,
Said a Greenvale man,
Crustily.
He just let himself be imposed upon all his life.
There's dozens of people owes him and he's never asked for a cent.
He's always had some shiftless critter or other hanging about devouring his substance.
Do you mind that Ben Butler used to be in Greenvale 20 years ago?
Asked a third man.
If ever there was an imp of Satan,
It was him.
Old Ezra Butler's son from the valley.
Old Stephen kept him for three or four years and was as good to him as if he'd been his own son.
Most people out our way do mind Ben Butler,
Returned William Jeffreys Grimley.
Even if he ain't been a teller for 20 years.
He wasn't the kind you could forget in a hurry.
Where did he go?
Out to the Kootenay was it?
Somewhere there,
He was a regularly young villain up to every kind of mischief.
Old Stephen caught him stealing his oats one time.
Instead of giving him a taste of jail for it,
He ought to have done.
He just took him right into his family and kept him there for three years.
I used to tell him he'd be sorry for it,
But he always persisted Ben wasn't bad at heart and would come out all right someday.
No matter what the young varmint did,
Old Stephen would make excuses for him.
His ma was dead or he hadn't got no bringing up.
I was thankful when he did finally clear out.
If poor old Stephen hadn't been so open-handed to every unfortunate critter he came across,
Said Gabe,
He'd have had more for himself today.
The whistle of the mail train cut short the discussion of Stephen Strong's case.
In a minute,
The room was vacant except for the stranger.
When left to himself,
He also rose and walked out.
Turning away from the station,
He struck briskly into the Greenvale Road.
About three miles away,
He halted before a house built close to the road.
It was old fashioned but large and comfortable looking with big barns in the rear and an orchard on the left slope.
The house itself was in the shadow of the firs but the yard lay out in the moonlight and the strange visitor did not neglect to cross it.
Instead,
He turned aside into the shadow of the trees around the garden and leaning against the old rail fence,
Gave himself up to contemplation of some kind.
There was a light in the kitchen,
The window blind was not down and he had a fairly good view of the room.
The only visible occupant was a grey-haired old man sitting by his table,
Reading from a large open volume.
The stranger whistled softly.
That's old Stephen reading the Bible same as ever by all that's holy.
He hasn't changed much.
He's got mighty grey though.
Must be close on 70.
It's a shame to turn an old man like him out of a house and home.
But Joe Moore always was a genuine skinflint.
The man drew himself softly up and sat on the fence.
He watched old Stephen Strong close his book,
Place his spectacles on it and kneel down by his chair.
He could not help remembering at the same time how patient old Stephen Strong had always been with him.
He recalled the time he'd been caught stealing the oats,
How frightened and sullen he'd been and how gently the old man had talked to him and pointed out the sins of which he'd been guilty.
He had never stolen again,
But in other respects he had not mended his ways much.
Behind old Stephen's back he laughed at him and his preaching.
But Stephen Strong had never even lost his faith.
He always asserted mildly Ben would come out all right by and by.
And Ben Butler remembered this too as he sat on the fence.
He patted his pocket knowingly.
Fifteen years previously he'd gone to the Kootenai district with visions of making a fortune.
They were quickly dispelled by reality.
He'd squandered his wages as soon as paid and it was only of late cheers he'd pulled up a bit as he expressed it and saved three thousand dollars.
He brought the money home with him.
Some vague notion of buying a farm and settling down to do the respectable.
But he'd already given up the idea.
This country was too blamed quiet for him he said.
He would go back to the Kootenai and he knew what he would do with his money.
Two friends of him were thinking about running a grocery and saloon.
They would be glad of another partner wishing cash.
It would suit him down to a tea.
I'll clear out tomorrow he mused as he walked back.
As long as I stay here old Stephen will haunt me sure as fate.
But I wonder what he was praying for tonight.
He always used to say the Lord would provide but he don't appear to have done it.
The next afternoon Ben Butler went over to Greenvale and called at Stephen Strong's house.
He found only the old man at home and Stephen didn't recognise him at first.
When at last he did he said,
I do declare Ben Butler how are you?
Sit down take this chair.
Where on earth did you come from?
Baxter just now Kootenai on the large scale answered Ben.
I thought I'd come over and see you again.
Didn't expect you remember me at all.
Of course I do.
Many's the time I've wondered where you was and how you was getting on.
Been a good deal more about than I ever did.
I kind of gone downhill myself and that's a fact.
The old farm's got to go Ben.
I'm sorry for that I'd like to have ended my days here but it's not to be.
I don't want to complain though the Lord does all things well.
I haven't a doubt but that it all fits into his wise purpose.
Not a doubt Ben.
Although it must be kind of hard to see it.
Ben veered around adroitly.
I don't know if the Lord has that much to do with this sir.
Seems to me as if it was the other way around that was running it.
The main thing is as I look at it is to get a clinch on it.
Now how much does the mortgage amount to sir?
About three thousand dollars interest and all.
Old Stephen's voice trembled.
The future was looking very dark to him in his old age.
Ben put his hand inside his coat and brought out a brand new plump pocketbook.
He opened it laid it on his knee and counted out a number of crisp notes.
There you are sir he said.
I reckon that'll keep you out of Jo Moore's clutches.
Three thousand there if I ain't made a mistake that will set you clear.
Ben?
Old Stephen's voice trembled with amazement.
I can't take it it wouldn't be fair I could never pay you back.
Ben slipped the rubber band around his wallet and replaced it airily.
I don't want it paid back it's a little gift so to speak to let you know I ain't ungrateful for all you did for me.
If it hadn't been for you I might have been in the penitentiary by now.
As for the money it might seem a pile to you but we don't think anything more of a thousand or so than you in Greenvale folks do of a fiver.
We do things in Kootenay on a big scale out there.
But Ben are you sure you can afford it that you won't miss it?
Oh Pop sure don't you worry I'm all right.
The tears were running down old Stephen's face now as he gathered up the money with a shaking hand.
I always knew you'd do well Ben I told you you'd do well I always said it.
I knew you had a good heart.
It seems too good to be true though.
Of course I'll pay you back anyhow if I'm spared a while longer.
Bless you Ben.
Ben would not stay long after that he said he had to leave on the 4.
30 train and he was relieved when he got away from the old man's thanks and questions.
When he was out of sight of the house he sat on a fence and counted up his remaining funds.
Just enough to take me back he said and I'll start all over again I suppose.
But was worth the money to see the old fella's face.
He thanked the Lord and me he said.
Now those two mates of mine are raw to hear there's two names in partnership but I'm gonna pull up a bit after this see if I don't just to justify the old man's faith in me.
It would be too bad to disappoint him if he believed for so long I was gonna turn out all right yet.
And when at last the 4.
30 train went out with Ben Butler on it Gabe Foley,
Gabe Foley watched it roll away down the long track.
Blamed if I don't know who that fellow was he remarked to an old crony standing with him.
He never told me his name but it seems to me I've seen him before.
Still what does it matter I heard he paid up fair and square and nobody can say any fairer about a man's business than that.
