During his school years he had been vaguely aware of a small, livelyfarm girl named Elsie Luderstrom; h ''Please!' Dawkins pleaded, and the trembling minister, biting his lip and closinghis eyes at the crucial moment, swung the rawhide and brought the heavy knot acrossthe man's back. ' It was indicativeof the Klope family that his father replied simply: 'I could let you have a hundredand fifty,' and John said: 'Added to what I have, it'll be enough. ' This was a spot five miles farther up the trail, andsince one had to cross and recross the little river running down the middle of thefootpath, the assistance would be invaluable.
''He wants me to hire you to build the big bunkhouse right now, for the Chinese. Bigears,all the canneries have learned to rely on Chinese to do the major jobs crates, cans,preparing the salmon. s over Desolation Point,' andAmerican fighter planes would scramble aloft to let the Russians know they were undersurveillance. He was John Klope, not a Pole, not a Scandinavian and not a German merely an Americanand happy to be one, like many of his neighbors.
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