A Bright Tomorrow by Gilbert Morris

used to hard work. If you’d let me stay here until I find a job, I’ll help you with the housework and the cooking.”
    Anna admired the young woman’s spirit, but was troubled. “Rose, I no gotta place for you.”
    â€œOh, please! Just a place on the floor in here! Don’t make me go—”
    Anna, with her tender heart, could not bear the sight of the girl’s tears. “Now, wait,” she said quickly. “I don’t have-a no more rooms, but if you don’t mind sharing an old woman’s room—”
    â€œOh, no!” Rose made an impulsive move to hug Anna, and the woman melted.
    â€œYou gotta some trouble, Rose? You stay with us. The good Lord, he knows how to fix it!” She held the girl, made motherly noises as Rose clung to her. At last she gently moved away. “You go to bed now, child. Tomorrow we talk.”
    Rose nodded, grateful she didn’t have to face the rest of the family or the boarders.
    She went at once to the room, accompanied by Anna, who turned back the covers. “You gotta warm gown? No? You wear one of mine.” She smiled to see the girl’s slim form. “It’ll be big enough for you, I think!”
    Ten minutes later, Rose lay buried in the thick feather bed and felt her tense muscles beginning to relax. She tried to stay awake, but the rain, still falling, danced on the window, and the last thing she remembered was the round, kindly face of Anna Castellano.

6
E NCOUNTER AT THE W ORLD T HEATER
    A mos, saddle Prince!” James McClendon said, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “The secretary of the Navy, Theodore Roosevelt, is coming with a party…we’ll need to saddle every horse that can walk!”
    Amos had never seen the little Scotsman so worked up, and he threw himself into the task. By the time the three big carriages drew up, he’d harried the other hands into action so that nearly every animal was saddled. He himself held Prince’s reins, for the big gelding was subject to uncertain behavior.
    The owner of the stable, Mr. Harold Greenlee, was an ardent student of politics and an equally enthusiastic supporter of Theodore Roosevelt. He walked with the secretary from the carriages to the yard, leading an entourage of a dozen or so.
    Greenlee spoke to the manager at once. “Are the horses ready, James?”
    â€œAye, they are, sir.”
    â€œGreenlee, I want the liveliest mount in your stable!” The secretary of the Navy spoke in a rapid, rather high-pitched voice. He was, Amos noted, of no great height but gave the impression of tremendous strength. Amos had read of his passion for boxing and hunting and horses, and now as McClendon said, “Bring Prince up, Stuart,” he stepped forward.
    Roosevelt stared at the animal, then grinned. The secretary had big, square teeth, and his eyes gleamed behind his spectacles. “Fine-looking animal,” he exclaimed, then took the reins from Amos. He swung into the saddle with practiced ease, and as Prince took a quick step to the side, Roosevelt pulled him up sharply. He winked at Amos. “A little of the Devil in this one, eh?”
    Amos nodded. “Right, sir. Watch him…he’ll try to rake you off on the fence.”
    â€œWill he? Bully! I like a horse with spirit.” He nodded, adding, “Thanks for the tip, young man!” Then he kicked Prince with his heels and shot out of the yard at a hard run.
    The rest of the party were still trying to mount up, and for a few minutes, Amos and McClendon were busy getting them all into the saddle.
    One of the party, a woman, stood back, giving the mount Amos held for her a rather skeptical look. “I’m not a very good rider,” she admitted. “Is this one gentle?”
    Amos had been too busy to give the woman more than a passing glance. Now he did so. She was young, no more than twenty-one, and very attractive. Light brown hair, dark brown eyes, a