"Well, Mr. Peako, this time of the year we don't really have anything. But it's too cold for you to go on to wherever it is you were heading. Why don'... you stay with us a couple of days, at least until this blizzard passes and it gets a little warmer?"I guess it should be here noted; my father and mother had an innate special brand of kindness. I've spent a lifetime trying to learn to live up to their standards. I'm still trying... "Well," my father said thoughtfully, "I guess you could—help me. We had decided that it would make for a quieter stay if the boys didn't accompany me into town, but I still wanted them as close as I could get them.The Rusty Bell was no Three Seasons, nor was Feliks Moroe an Artuma. Certainly not in a physical sense. He was short, fat and seemed to sport his long, greasy hair with a pride that defied its stringy appearance. I arranged for a private room and two meals; tonight's dinner and tomorrow's breakfast.I found a small table by the fireplace and sat. More

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