Ain't She The Gamest Little Thoroughbred?
: LUCK: Crooked Trails And Straight
Kate galloped into the ranch plaza around which the buildings were set,
slipped from her pony, and ran at once to the telephone. Bob was on a side
porch mending a bridle.
"Have you heard anything from dad?" she cried through the open door.
"Nope," he answered, hammering down a rivet.
Kate called up the hotel where Maloney was staying at Saguache, but could
not get him. She trie
always put up when in town. She asked in turn for Mackenzie, for Yesler,
for Alec Flandrau.
While she waited for an answer, the girl moved nervously about the room.
She could not sit down or settle herself at anything. For some instinct
told her that Fendrick's taunt was not a lie cut out of whole cloth.
The bell rang. Instantly she was at the telephone. Mackenzie was at the
other end of the line.
"Oh, Uncle Mac." She had called him uncle ever since she could remember.
"What is it they are saying about dad? Tell me it isn't true," she
begged.
"A pack of lees, lassie." His Scotch idiom and accent had succumbed to
thirty years on the plains, but when he became excited it rose triumphant
through the acquired speech of the Southwest.
"Then is he there--in Saguache, I mean."
"No-o. He's not in town."
"Where is he?"
"Hoots! He'll just have gone somewhere on business."
He did not bluff well. Through the hearty assurance she pierced to the
note of trouble in his voice.
"You're hiding something from me, Uncle Mac. I won't have it. You tell me
the truth--the whole truth."
In three sentences he sketched it for her, and when he had finished he
knew by the sound of her voice that she was greatly frightened.
"Something has happened to him. I'm coming to town."
"If you feel you'd rather. Take the stage in to-morrow."
"No. I'm coming to-night. I'll bring Bob. Save us two rooms at the
hotel."
"Better wait till to-morrow. Forty miles is a long ride, lass."
"No, I can't wait. Have Curly Flandrau come to the Del Mar if he's in
town--and Dick Maloney, too. That's all. Good-by."
She turned to her cousin, who was standing big-eyed at her elbow.
"What is it, Kate? Has anything happened to Uncle Luck?"
She swallowed a lump in her throat. "Dad's gone, Bob. Nobody knows where.
They say--the liars--that he robbed the W. & S. Express Company."
Suddenly her face went down into her forearm on the table and sobs began
to rack her body. The boy, staggered at this preposterous charge, could
only lay his hand on her shoulder and beg her not to cry.
"It'll be all right, Kate. Wait till Uncle Luck comes back. He'll make 'em
sick for talking about him."
"But suppose he--suppose he----" She dared not complete what was in her
mind, that perhaps he had been ambushed by some of his enemies and
killed.
"You bet they'll drop into a hole and pull it in after them when Uncle
Luck shows up," the boy bragged with supreme confidence.
His cousin nodded, choking down her sobs. "Of course. It--it'll come out
all right--as soon as he finds out what they're saying. Saddle two horses
right away, Bob."
"Sure. We'll soon find where he is, I bet you."
The setting sun found their journey less than half done. The brilliant
rainbow afterglow of sunset faded to colder tints, and then disappeared.
The purple saw-toothed range softened to a violet hue. With the coming of
the moon the hard, dry desert lost detail, took on a loveliness of tone
and outline that made it an idealized painting of itself. Myriads of stars
were out, so that the heavens seemed sown with them as an Arizona hillside
is in spring with yellow poppies.
Kate was tortured with anxiety, but the surpassing beauty that encompassed
them was somehow a comfort to her. Deep within her something denied that
her father could be gone out of a world so good. And if he were alive,
Curly Flandrau would find him--Curly and Dick between them. Luck Cullison
had plenty of good friends who would not stand by and see him wronged.
Any theory of his disappearance that accepted his guilt did not occur to
her mind for an instant. The two had been very close to each other. Luck
had been in the habit of saying smilingly that she was his majordomo, his
right bower. Some share of his lawless temperament she inherited, enough
to feel sure that this particular kind of wrongdoing was impossible for
him. He was reckless, sometimes passionate, but she did not need to
reassure herself that he was scrupulously honest.
This brought her back to the only other tenable hypothesis--foul play. And
from this she shrank with a quaking heart. For surely if his enemies
wished to harm him they would destroy him, and this was a conclusion
against which she fought desperately.
The plaza clock boomed ten strokes as they rode into Saguache. Mackenzie
was waiting for them on the steps of the hotel.
"Have they--has anything been----?"
The owner of the Fiddleback shook his grizzled head. "Not yet. Didn't you
meet Curly?"
"No."
"He rode out to come in with you, but if he didn't meet you by ten he was
to come back. You took the north road, I reckon?"
"Yes."
His warm heart was wrung for the young woman whose fine eyes stared with
dumb agony from a face that looked very white in the shining moonlight. He
put an arm around her shoulders, and drew her into the hotel with cheerful
talk.
"Come along, Bob. We're going to tuck away a good supper first off. While
you're eating, I'll tell you all there is to be told."
Kate opened her lips to say that she was not hungry and could not possibly
eat a bite, but she thought better of it. Bob had tasted nothing since
noon, and of course he must be fed.
The lad fell to with an appetite grief had not dulled. His cousin could at
first only pick at what was set before her. It seemed heartless to be
sitting down in comfort to so good a supper while her father was in she
knew not how great distress. Grief swelled in her throat, and forced back
the food she was trying to eat.
Mackenzie broke off his story to remonstrate. "This won't do at all, Kate.
If you're going to help find Luck, you've got to keep yourself fit. Now,
you try this chicken, honey."
"I--just can't, Uncle Mac."
"But you need it."
"I know," the girl confessed, and as she said it broke down again into
soft weeping.
Mac let her have her cry out, petting her awkwardly. Presently she dried
her eyes, set at her supper in a businesslike way, heard the story to an
end quietly, and volunteered one heartbroken comment.
"As if father could do such a thing."
The cattleman agreed eagerly. There were times when he was full of doubt
on that point, but he was not going to let her know it.
Curly came into the room, and the girl rose to meet him. He took her
little hand in his tanned, muscular one, and somehow from his grip she
gathered strength. He would do all that could be done to find her father,
just as he had done so much to save her brother.
"I'm so glad you've come," she said simply.
"I'm glad you're glad," he smiled cheerfully.
He knew she had been crying, that she was suffering cruelly, but he
offered her courage rather than maudlin sympathy. Hope seemed to flow
through her veins at the meeting of the eyes. Whatever a man could do for
her would be done by Curly.
They talked the situation over together.
"As it looks to me, we've got to find out two things--first, what has
become of your father, and, second, who did steal that money."
"Now you're talking," Mackenzie agreed. "I always did say you had a good
head, Curly."
"I don't see it yet, but there's some link between the two things. I mean
between the robbery and his disappearance."
"How do you mean?" Kate asked.
"We'll say the robbers were his enemies--some of the Soapy Stone outfit
maybe. They have got him out of the way to satisfy their grudge and to
make people think he did it. Unfortunately there is evidence that makes it
look as if he might have done it--what they call corroborating
testimony."
Billie Mackenzie scratched his gray poll. "Hold on, Curly. This notion of
a link between the hold-up and Luck's leaving is what the other side is
tying to. Don't we want to think different from them?"
"We do. They think he is guilty. We know he isn't."
"What does Sheriff Bolt think?"
Curly waved the sheriff aside. "It don't matter what he thinks, Miss Kate.
He says he thinks Luck was mixed up in the hold-up. Maybe that's what he
thinks, but we don't want to forget that Cass Fendrick made him sheriff
and your father fought him to a fare-you-well."
"Then we can't expect any help from him."
"Not much. He ain't a bad fellow, Bolt ain't. He'll be square, but his
notions are liable to be warped."
"I'd like to talk with him," the young woman announced.
"All right," Mackenzie assented. "To-morrow mo'ning----"
"No, to-night, Uncle Mac."
The cattleman looked at her in surprise. Her voice rang with decision. Her
slight figure seemed compact of energy and resolution. Was this the girl
who had been in helpless tears not ten minutes before?
"I'll see if he's at his office. Maybe he'll come up," Curly said.
"No. I'll go down to the courthouse if he's there."
Flandrau got Bolt on the telephone at his room. After a little grumbling
he consented to meet Miss Cullison at his office.
"Bob, you must go to bed. You're tired out," his cousin told him.
"I ain't, either," he denied indignantly. "Tired nothing. I'm going with
you."
Curly caught Kate's glance, and she left the boy to him.
"Look here, Bob. We're at the beginning of a big job. Some of us have to
keep fresh all the time. We'll work in relays. To-night you sleep so as to
be ready to-morrow."
This way of putting it satisfied the boy. He reluctantly consented to go
to bed, and was sound asleep almost as soon as his head struck the
pillow.
At the office of the sheriff, Kate cut to essentials as soon as
introductions were over.
"Do you think my father robbed the W. & S. Express Company, Mr. Bolt?" she
asked.
Her plainness embarrassed the officer.
"Let's took at the facts, Miss Cullison," he began amiably. "Then you tell
me what you would think in my place. Your father needed money mighty bad.
There's no doubt at all about that. Here's an envelope on which he had
written a list of his debts. You'll notice they run to just a little more
than twenty thousand. I found this in his bedroom the day he
disappeared."
She took the paper, glanced at it mechanically, and looked at the sheriff
again. "Well? Everybody wants money. Do they all steal it?"
"Turn that envelope over, Miss Cullison. Notice how he has written there
half a dozen times in a row, '$20,000,' and just below it twice, 'W. & S.
Ex. Co.' Finally, the one word, 'To-night.'"
She read it all, read it with a heart heavy as lead, and knew that there
he had left in his own strong, bold handwriting convincing evidence
against himself. Still, she did not doubt him in the least, but there
could be no question now that he knew of the intended shipment, that
absent-mindedly he had jotted down this data while he was thinking about
it in connection with his own debts.
The sheriff went on tightening the chain of evidence in a voice that for
all its kindness seemed to her remorseless as fate. "It turns out that Mr.
Jordan of the Cattleman's National Bank mentioned this shipment to your
father that morning. Mr. Cullison was trying to raise money from him, but
he couldn't let him have it. Every bank in the city refused him a loan.
Yet next morning he paid off two thousand dollars he owed from a poker
game."
"He must have borrowed the money from some one," she said weakly.
"That money he paid in twenty-dollar bills. The stolen express package was
in twenties. You know yourself that this is a gold country. Bills ain't so
plentiful."
The girl's hand went to her heart. Faith in her father was a rock not to
be washed away by any amount of evidence. What made her wince was the
amount of circumstantial testimony falling into place so inexorably
against him.
"Is that all?" she asked despairingly.
"I wish it were, Miss Cullison. But it's not. A man came round the corner
and shot at the robber as he was escaping. His hat fell off. Here it is."
As Kate took the hat something seemed to tighten around her heart. It
belonged to her father. His personality was stamped all over it. She even
recognized a coffee stain on the under side of the brim. There was no need
of the initials L. C. to tell her whose it had been. A wave of despair
swept over her. Again she was on the verge of breaking down, but
controlled herself as with a tight curb.
Bolt's voice went on. "Next day your father disappeared, Miss Cullison. He
was here in town all morning. His friends knew that suspicion was
fastening on him. The inference is that he daren't wait to have the truth
come out. Mind, I don't say he's guilty. But it looks that way. Now,
that's my case. If you were sheriff in my place, what would you do?"
Her answer flashed back instantly. "If I knew Luck Cullison, I would be
sure there was a mistake somewhere, and I would look for foul play. I
would believe anything except that he was guilty--anything in the world.
You know he has enemies."
The sheriff liked her spirited defense no less because he could not agree
with her. "Yes, I know that. The trouble is that these incriminating facts
don't come in the main from his enemies."
"You say the robber had on his hat, and that somebody shot at him. Whoever
it was must know the man wasn't father."
Gently Bolt took this last prop from her hope. "He is almost sure the man
was your father."
A spark of steel came into her dark eyes. "Who is the man?"
"His name is Fendrick."
"Cass Fendrick?" She whipped the word at him, leaning forward in her chair
rigidly with her hands clenched on the arms of it. One could have guessed
that the sound of the name had unleashed a dormant ferocity in her.
"Yes. I know he and your father aren't friends. They have had some
trouble. For that reason he was very reluctant to give your father's
name."
The girl flamed. "Reluctant! Don't you believe it? He hates Father like
poison." A flash of inspiration came to her. She rose, slim and tall and
purposeful. "Cass Fendrick is the man you want, and he is the man I want.
He robbed the express company, and he has killed my father or abducted
him. I know now. Arrest him to-night."
"I have to have evidence," Bolt said quietly.
"I can give you a motive. Listen. Father expected to prove up yesterday on
his Del Oro claim. If he had done so Cass Fendrick's sheep would have been
cut off from the water. Father had to be got out of the way not later than
Wednesday, or that man would have been put out of business. He was very
bitter about it. He had made threats."
"It would take more than threats to get rid of the best fighting man in
Arizona, right in the middle of the day, in the heart of the town, without
a soul knowing about it." The officer added with a smile: "I'd hate to
undertake the contract, give me all the help I wanted."
"He was trapped somehow, of course," Curly cut in. For he was sure that in
no other way could Luck Cullison have been overcome.
"If you'll only tell me how, Flandrau," Bolt returned.
"I don't know how, but we'll find out."
"I hope so."
Kate felt his doubt, and it was like a spark to powder.
"Fendrick is your friend. You were elected by his influence. Perhaps you
want to prove that Father did this."
"The people elected me, Miss Cullison," answered Bolt, with grave
reproach. "I haven't any friends or any enemies when it comes to doing
what I've sworn to do."
"Then you ought to know Father couldn't have done this. There is such a
thing as character. Luck Cullison simply couldn't be a thief."
Mackenzie's faith had been strengthened by the insistent loyalty of the
girl. "That's right, Nick. Let me tell you something else. Fendrick knew
Luck was going to prove up on Thursday. He heard him tell us at the
Round-Up Club Tuesday morning."
The sheriff summed up. "You've proved Cass had interests that would be
helped if Mr. Cullison were removed. But you haven't shaken the evidence
against Luck."
"We've proved Cass Fendrick had to get Father out of the way on the very
day he disappeared. One day later would have been too late. We've shown
his enmity. Any evidence that rests on his word is no good. The truth
isn't in the man."
"Maybe not, but he didn't make this evidence."
Kate had another inspirational flash. "He did--some of it. Somehow he got
hold of father's hat, and he manufactured a story about shooting it from
the robber's head. But to make his story stick he must admit he was on the
ground at the time of the hold-up. So he must have known the robbery was
going to take place. It's as plain as old Run-A-Mile's wart that he knew
of it because he planned it himself."
Bolt's shrewd eyes narrowed to a smile. "You prove to me that Cass had
your father's hat before the hold-up, and I'll take some stock in the
story."
"And in the meantime," suggested Curly.
"I'll keep right on looking for Luck Cullison, but I'll keep an eye on
Cass Fendrick, too."
Kate took up the challenge confidently. "I'll prove he had the hat--at
least I'll try to pretty hard. It's the truth, and it must come out
somehow."
After he had left her at the hotel, Curly walked the streets with a sharp
excitement tingling his blood. He had lived his life among men, and he
knew little about women and their ways. But his imagination seized avidly
upon this slim, dark girl with the fine eyes that could be both tender and
ferocious, with the look of combined delicacy and strength in every line
of her.
"Ain't she the gamest little thoroughbred ever?" he chuckled to himself.
"Stands the acid every crack. Think of her standing pat so game--just like
she did for me that night out at the ranch. She's the best argument Luck
has got."
More
-
A Soldier Entangled
December and bitter cold. The river frozen stiff. The prairie sheeted in unbroken snow. Great log fires roaring in every open fireplace. Great throngs of soldiery about the red hot barrack stoves, for all the columns were again in winter columns, ... A Soldier's Honor
Delivery day dawned with a heavy fog hanging over the valley of the Yellowstone. The frosts had ceased, and several showers had fallen during the night, one of which brought our beeves to their feet, but they gave no serious trouble and resumed thei... A Spanish Will
With a singing heart Alaire rode through the night at her husband's side. The strain of the last few hours had been so intense, the relief at her deliverance so keen, that now she felt curiously weak, and she kept close to Dave, comforted by his ... A Spill By The Way
The "line" remained busy for so long that the loungers in the hotel lobby grew amused at Leslie's impatience while the two girls became very anxious. "It was only an hour or so, Mr. Ford said, before Aunt Betty's train would leave and I shall b... A Spunky Li'l' Devil
Houck rode away next morning after breakfast, but not before he had made a promise June construed as a threat. "Be back soon, girl." Her eyes were on the corral, from which her father was driving the dogies. "What's it to me?" she said with s... A Stable On The Flat
When the first landmark, the lone clump of cottonwoods, came at length in sight, dark and blurred in the gentle rain, standing out perhaps a mile beyond the distant buildings, my whole weary body hailed the approach of repose. Saving the noon hour... A Stop By Wire
Three days later the infantry guard of the garrison were in sole charge. Wren and Sanders, with nearly fifty troopers apiece, had taken the field in compliance with telegraphic orders from Prescott. The general had established field headquarters t... A Story Is Begun
"It's fonny t'ing how two brown eye Was changin' everything-- De cloud she's no more on de sky, An' winter's jus' lak' spring Dey mak' my pack so very light, De trail, she's not so long-- I'd walk it forty... A Strange Coming
With one orderly and a pair of Apache Yuma scouts, Neil Blakely had set forth in hopes of making his way to Snow Lake, far up in the range to the east. The orderly was all very well,--like most of his fellows, game, true, and tried,--but few were ... A Stranger Going
At the first faint flush of dawn the little train of pack mules, with the rations for the beleaguered command at Sunset Pass, was started on its stony path. Once out of the valley of the Beaver it must clamber over range after range and stumble th... A Stricken Sentry
Sentry duty at Camp Sandy along in '75 had not been allowed to bear too heavily on its little garrison. There was nothing worth stealing about the place, said Plume, and no pawn-shop handy. Of course there were government horses and mules, food an... A Tangled Skein
When Burrell entered he wasted no time in greetings. "I know why you sent for me, Poleon. I've heard the news, and I would have been up anyhow to congratulate her very soon. I call it pretty fine." "Yes, dere's been beeg strike all right, an'... A Telegram And A Girl
Banker Braman went to bed on the cot in the back room shortly after Corrigan departed from Manti. He stretched himself out with a sigh, oppressed with the conviction that he had done a bad day's work in antagonizing Trevison. The Diamond K owner w... A Thankless Task
Modoc waited, as if for an answer, and when it did not come, his face took on an expression of anger, in which cunning seemed to be mingled. "What's yore message?" he rasped. It took Kid Wolf several seconds to recover his composure. Was the w... A Tilt With Sir Redmond
Beatrice, standing on the top of a steep, grassy slope, was engaged in the conventional pastime of enjoying the view. It was a fine view, but it was not half as good to look upon as was Beatrice herself, in her fresh white waist and brown skirt, w... A Touch Of The Third Degree
Cullison was not the man to acknowledge himself beaten so long as there was a stone unturned. In the matter of the Del Oro homestead claim he moved at once. All of the county commissioners were personal friends of his, and he went to them with a p... A Trap For Job Haskers
"What do you think of it, Dave?" "I think Job Haskers is up to some game, Roger." "Selling worthless stocks?" "Yes, or else stocks that are next door to worthless." "I wonder who the old gentleman can be? He looks as if he might have mon... A Treasure Of The Galleon
Her father's house was nearly a mile from the sea, but the breath of it was always strong at the windows and doors in the early morning, and when there were heavy "southwesters" blowing in the winter, the wind brought the sharp sting of sand to he... A Trip To Bald Eagle Rock
Molly gave one glance and screamed. Then flung herself to her knees and buried her face in Helena's lap, who pityingly drew her light skirt over the child's head. Nobody else moved nor spoke. All felt their last hour had come. "An Indian raid!"... A Vanished Heroine
Within forty-eight hours of the coming of Trooper Kennedy with his "rush" despatches to Fort Frayne, the actors in our little drama had become widely separated. Webb and his sturdy squadron, including Ray and such of his troop as still had mounts ... A Villon Of The Desert
When Alice Mackenzie looked back in after years upon the incidents connected with that ride to the Rocking Chair, it was always with a kind of glorified pride in her villain-hero. He had his moments, had this twentieth-century Villon, when he repres... A Walk In The Park
June was the first to speak. "So you're here. You didn't get away." "I'm here," Houck growled. "No chance for a getaway. I ran out the back door of the bank an' ducked into the hotel. This was the first door I come to, an' I headed in." She w... A War Of Wits
"Kidnaped? Gordon Wade?" At Dorothy's announcement, Mrs. Purnell sank, with a gasp, into her rocking-chair, astonished beyond expression. She listened, with anxiety scarce less than her daughter's, to the girl's account of the event as she had ... A Warning
Joyce, a lover of luxury, usually had a roll and coffee in bed as a substitute for breakfast. Sometimes she varied this by appearing late at the table and putting the attendants to unnecessary trouble. This she always paid for with murmurs of apol... A Warning And A Surprise
Dave Law slept for twenty hours, and even when he awoke it was not to a clear appreciation of his surroundings. At first he was relieved to find that the splitting pain in his head was gone, but imagined himself to be still in the maddening local ... A Wild Cat
The Lazy-Y ranch-house, a one-storied building of logs, was built about three sides of a paved court. In the middle of this court stood a well with a high rustic top, and about this well on a certain brilliant July night, a tall man was strolling ... A Woman Rides In Vain
Out of Rosalind Benham's resentment against Trevison for the Hester Harvey incident grew a sudden dull apathy--which presently threatened to become an aversion--for the West. Its crudeness, the uncouthness of its people; the emptiness, the monoton... A Woman's Plot
Woman's intuition often far outstrips the slower mental process of the other sex. The mother who has to see a beloved daughter's silent suffering, well knowing another girl to be, however indirectly, the cause of it, sees all manner of other iniqu... A Yellow Dog
I never knew why in the Western States of America a yellow dog should be proverbially considered the acme of canine degradation and incompetency, nor why the possession of one should seriously affect the social standing of its possessor. But the f... Absent From Duty
For a moment the major stood in silence; then, briefly saying, "Call Captain Ray," turned again to the dimly lighted hallway of his commodious quarters, (the women thought it such a shame there should be no "lady of the house" for the largest and ... Adore Has Only One D
After all, adventures are to the adventurous. In this prosaic twentieth century the Land of Romance still beckons to eager eyes and gallant hearts. The rutted money-grabber may deny till he is a nerve-racked counting-machine, but youth, even to the ... Adventure Comes Smiling
Luck, in the course of his enthusiastic picture making, reached the point where he must find a bank that was willing to be robbed--in broad daylight and for screen purposes only. If you know anything at all about our financial storehouses, you know ... Aftermath
Joan waited for Prosper on the appointed afternoon. There was a fire on her hearth and a March snow-squall tapped against the window panes. The crackle of the logs inside and that eerie, light sound outside were so associated with Prosper that, ev... Again A Hidden Enemy
The boys were early astir the following morning. As soon as they were up Capt. Pipe's wife placed a dish of boiled corn, like hominy, before them, and this was their breakfast. A little later, telling Capt. Pipe of the great amount of work they ha... Against The Bars
Jasper Morena had stood for an hour in a drafty passage of that dirty labyrinth known vaguely to the public as "behind the scenes," listening to the wearisome complaints of a long-nosed young actor. It was the sixth of such conversations that he h... Agood Fellow's Wife
I LIFE in the small towns of the older West moves slowly-almost as slowly as in the seaport villages or little towns of the East. Towns like Tyre and Bluff Siding have grown during the last twenty years, but very slowly, by almost imperceptible d... Ain't She The Gamest Little Thoroughbred?
Kate galloped into the ranch plaza around which the buildings were set, slipped from her pony, and ran at once to the telephone. Bob was on a side porch mending a bridle. "Have you heard anything from dad?" she cried through the open door. "N... Aline Makes A Discovery
Aline pulled her horse to a walk. "You know Mr. Ridgway pretty well, don't you?" Miss Balfour gently flicked her divided skirt with a riding-whip, considering whether she might be said to know him well. "Yes, I think I do," she ventured. "Mrs.... Aline Turns A Corner
Aline might have been completely prostrated by the news of her husband's sudden end, coming as it did as the culmination of a week of strain and horror. That she did not succumb was due, perhaps, to Ridgway's care for her. When Harley's massive gray... All Heroes But One
As we rode up the slope of Buckskin, the sunrise glinted red-gold through the aisles of frosted pines, giving us a hunter's glad greeting. With all due respect to, and appreciation of, the breaks of the Siwash, we unanimously decided that if couga... All In The Day's Work
The next morning the herds moved out like brigades of an army on dress-parade. Our front covered some six or seven miles, the Buford cattle in the lead, while those intended for Indian delivery naturally fell into position on flank and rear. My beev... All This War-talk About Injuns
Over his second cup of coffee the pale eyes of Big Medicine goggled thoughtfully at the forbidding wall of lava rock that stretched before them as far as he could see to left or right. There were places here and there where he believed that a man co... Along The Mountain Trail
The boys had expected some such answer as this, so they were not greatly surprised. They were introduced to the storekeeper by Tom Dillon, who then asked if Abe Blower had been alone. "No, he had two others with him--strangers to me," answered D... Amber Spring
No unusual circumstances was it for Oldring and some of his men to visit Cottonwoods in the broad light of day, but for him to prowl about in the dark with the hoofs of his horses muffled meant that mischief was brewing. Moreover, to Vente... Ambushed
Red Linton had ridden eastward to examine the grass of the range in that direction, for it had been some days since he had sent Stroud to the southern range, and since the cattle had been there for some time before that Linton felt they should be ... Among The Corn Rows
I "But the road sometimes passes a rich meadow, where the songs o/ larks and bobolinks and blackbirds are tangled." ROB held up his hands, from which the dough depended in ragged strings. "Biscuits," he said with an elaborate working of his ... An Accusation
The rescued man ate, drank, and from sheer fatigue fell asleep within five minutes of the time he was shown his bedroom. Since he was not of the easily discouraged kind, the deputy stayed to supper on invitation of Lee. He sat opposite the daugh... An Alternative Proposed And Declined
The prediction made by Blister Haines that some overbearing puncher would bully Bob because of his reputation as safe game did not long wait fulfillment. A new rider joined the Slash Lazy D outfit. He had been working for the K Bar T for a couple ... An Ambitious Man-child Was Buddy
In hot mid afternoon when the acrid, gray dust cloud kicked up by the listless plodding of eight thousand cloven hoofs formed the only blot on the hard blue above the Staked Plains, an ox stumbled and fell awkwardly under his yoke, and refused to sc... An Apache Queen
In the slant of the evening sunshine a young girl, an Indian, was crouching among the bare rocks at the edge of a steep and rugged descent. One tawny little hand, shapely in spite of scratches, was uplifted to her brows, shading her keen and restl... An Arrest
After half a week in the saddle Lieutenant Bucky O'Connor of the Arizona Rangers and Curly Flandrau reached Saguache tired and travel-stained. They had combed the Rincons without having met hide or hair of the men they wanted. Early next morning t... An Assisted Providence
IT was the Christmas turkeys that should be held responsible. Every year the Lossings give each head of a family in their employ, and each lad helping to support his mother, a turkey at Christmastide. As the business has grown, so has the number of ... An Awakening
Time was when Phil Strange boasted that he and his wife had played every fair-ground and seaside amusement-park from Coney Island to Galveston. In his battered wardrobe-trunks were parts of old costumes, scrapbooks of clippings, and a goodly colle... An Elopement
Bob Dillon was peeling potatoes outside the chuck tent when he heard a whistle he recognized instantly. It was a very good imitation of a meadow-lark's joyous lilt. He answered it, put down the pan and knife, and rose. "Where you going?" demand... An Episode Of Fiddletown
In 1858 Fiddletown considered her a very pretty woman. She had a quantity of light chestnut hair, a good figure, a dazzling complexion, and a certain languid grace which passed easily for gentle-womanliness. She always dressed becomingly, and in w... An Escape And A Capture
Far up in the mountains, in that section where head the Roaring Fork, One Horse Creek, and the Del Oro, is a vast tract of wild, untraveled country known vaguely as the Bad Lands. Somewhere among the thousand and one canyons which cleft the huddle... An Evening At Las Palmas
Although the lower counties of southwest Texas are flat and badly watered, they possess a rich soil. They are favored, too, by a kindly climate, subtropic in its mildness. The days are long and bright and breezy, while night brings a drenching dew... An Evening Call
"Says you're to come right up, Mr. Ridgway," the bell-hop reported, and after he had pocketed his tip, went sliding off across the polished floor to answer another call. The president of the Mesa Ore-producing Company turned with a good-humored s... An Explosion In The Taurus
The change of the relationship between Ridgway and his betrothed, brought about by the advent of a third person into his life, showed itself in the manner of their greeting. She had always been chary of lovers' demonstrations, but until his return f... An Hour Too Late
"I had an idea that's who it was when you described him," said Sheriff Hardenberg, to whom Stratton returned at once with the news. "There's only one 'Paul' around here who fits the bill, and he sure does to perfection." "Who is he?" asked Buck... An Initialed Hat
Mackenzie was reading the Sentinel while he ate a late breakfast. He had it propped against the water bottle, so that it need not interfere with the transportation of sausages, fried potatoes, hot cakes, and coffee to their common destination. ... An Invitation Given And Accepted
And already she had met him. Not only met him, but saved him from the just vengeance about to fall upon him. She had not yet seen her own ranch, had not spoken to a single one of her employees, for it had been a part of her plan to drop in unexpecte... An Obstinate Man Stands Pat
A moment of blank silence fell on the little group crouched among the boulders. Bob's statement that he had to go back through the fire zone--to Houck--had fallen among them like a mental bombshell. Blister was the first to find his voice. "You ... An Open-air Prison
An hour after mass Father Esteban had quietly installed Hurlstone in a small cell-like apartment off the refectory. The household of the priest consisted of an old Indian woman of fabulous age and miraculous propriety, two Indian boys who served a... An Out And Out Rotter
Jack strode through the young alders to his horse, swung to the saddle without touching the stirrups, and was off instantly at a canter. He rode fast, evidently with a direct driving purpose to reach a particular destination. The trail was a rough... An Unexpected Departure
Dorothy looked after the fleeing little figure as it disappeared behind a clump of shrubbery in the direction of the laundry. "A child of one of the workmen, I suppose, but such an odd, quaint looking child," she thought, and rejoined her mates.... An Unwelcome Guest
It was late afternoon when Barbara and Harlan--the girl still riding a little in advance of the man--rode their horses out of a stretch of broken country featured by low, barren hills and ragged draws, and came to the edge of a vast level of sage ... And A Knot Tightened
A day of shattered hopes is a desolate thing, but the night of such a day is desolate indeed. In all his life Poleon Doret had never sunk to such depths of despondency, for his optimistic philosophy and his buoyant faith in the goodness of life fo... And Bud Never Guessed
That night, when he had been given a bath in the little zinc tub they used for washing clothes, and had been carefully buttoned inside a clean undershirt of Bud's, for want of better raiment, Lovin Child missed something out of his sleepytime cudding. ... And Rides Again In Vain
Rosalind's reflections as she rode toward the Bar B convinced her that there had been much truth in Corrigan's arraignment of Trevison. Out of her own knowledge of him, and from his own admission to her on the day they had ridden to Blakeley's the... And The Villain Pursued Her
The young man called Gil,--to avoid wasting time in saying Gilbert James Huntley,--mounted in haste and rode warily up the coulee some distance behind Jean. At that time and in that locality he was quite anxious that she should not discover him. G... Andy Green's New Acquaintance
Andy Green, chief prevaricator of the Happy Family of the Flying U--and not ashamed of either title or connection--pushed his new Stetson back off his untanned forehead, attempted to negotiate the narrow passage into a Pullman sleeper with his suitc...