Foxy's Partner
: Glengarry SchooldaysIt was an evil day for Hughie when he made friends with Foxy and became
his partner in the store business, for Hughie's hoardings were never
large, and after buying a Christmas present for his mother, according
to his unfailing custom, they were reduced to a very few pennies indeed.
The opportunities for investment in his new position were many and
alluring. But all Hughie's soul went out in longing for a pistol which
and ball, and his longing was sensibly increased by Foxy generously
allowing him to try the pistol, first at a mark, which Hughie hit, and
then at a red squirrel, which he missed. By day Hughie yearned for this
pistol, by night he dreamed of it, but how he might secure it for his
own he did not know.
Upon this point he felt he could not consult his mother, his usual
counselor, for he had an instinctive feeling that she would not approve
of his having a pistol in his possession; and as for his father, Hughie
knew he would soon make "short work of any such folly." What would a
child like Hughie do with a pistol? He had never had a pistol in all his
life. It was difficult for the minister to realize that young Canada was
a new type, and he would have been more than surprised had any one told
him that already Hughie, although only twelve, was an expert with a gun,
having for many a Saturday during the long, sunny fall roamed the woods,
at first in company with Don, and afterwards with Don's gun alone, or
followed by Fusie or Davie Scotch. There was thus no help for Hughie at
home. The price of the pistol reduced to the lowest possible sum, was
two dollars and a half, which Foxy declared was only half what he would
charge any one else but his partner.
"How much have you got altogether?" he asked Hughie one day, when Hughie
was groaning over his poverty.
"Six pennies and two dimes," was Hughie's disconsolate reply. He had
often counted them over. "Of course," he went on, "there's my XL knife.
That's worth a lot, only the point of the big blade's broken."
"Huh!" grunted Foxy, "there's jist the stub left."
"It's not!" said Hughie, indignantly. "It's more than half, then. And
it's bully good stuff, too. It'll nick any knife in the school"; and
Hughie dived into his pocket and pulled out his knife with a handful of
boy's treasures.
"Hullo!" said Foxy, snatching a half-dollar from Hughie's hand, "whose
is that?"
"Here, you, give me that! That's not mine," cried Hughie.
"Whose is it, then?"
"I don't know. I guess it's mother's. I found it on the kitchen floor,
and I know it's mother's."
"How do you know?"
"I know well enough. She often puts money on the window, and it fell
down. Give me that, I tell you!" Hughie's eyes were blazing dangerously,
and Foxy handed back the half-dollar.
"O, all right. You're a pretty big fool," he said, indifferently.
"'Losers seekers, finders keepers.' That's my rule."
Hughie was silent, holding his precious half-dollar in his hand, deep in
his pocket.
"Say," said Foxy, changing the subject, "I guess you had better pay up
for your powder and caps you've been firing."
"I haven't been firing much," said Hughie, confidently.
"Well, you've been firing pretty steady for three weeks."
"Three weeks! It isn't three weeks."
"It is. There's this week, and last week when the ink-bottle bust too
soon and burnt Fusie's eyebrows, and the week before when you shot Aleck
Dan, and it was the week before that you began, and that'll make it
four."
"How much?" asked Hughie, desperately, resolved to know the worst.
Foxy had been preparing for this. He took down a slate-pencil box with a
sliding lid, and drew out a bundle of crumbled slips which Hughie, with
sinking heart, recognized as his own vouchers.
"Sixteen pennies." Foxy had taken care of this part of the business.
"Sixteen!" exclaimed Hughie, snatching up the bunch.
"Count them yourself," said Foxy, calmly, knowing well he could count on
Hughie's honesty.
"Seventeen," said Hughie, hopelessly.
"But one of those I didn't count," said Foxy, generously. "That's the
one I gave you to try at the first. Now, I tell you," went on Foxy,
insinuatingly, "you have got how much at home?" he inquired.
"Six pennies and two dimes." Hughie's tone indicated despair.
"You've got six pennies and two dimes. Six pennies and two dimes. That's
twenty--that's thirty-two cents. Now if you paid me that thirty-two
cents, and if you could get a half-dollar anywhere, that would be
eighty-two. I tell you what I would do. I would let you have that pistol
for only one dollar more. That ain't much," he said.
"Only a dollar more," said Hughie, calculating rapidly. "But where would
I get the fifty cents?" The dollar seemed at that moment to Hughie quite
a possible thing, if only the fifty cents could be got. The dollar was
more remote, and therefore less pressing.
Foxy had an inspiration.
"I tell you what. You borrow that fifty cents you found, and then you
can pay me eighty-two cents, and--and--" he hesitated--"perhaps you will
find some more, or something."
Hughie's eyes were blazing with great fierceness.
Foxy hastened to add, "And I'll let you have the pistol right off, and
you'll pay me again some time when you can, the other dollar."
Hughie checked the indignant answer that was at his lips. To have the
pistol as his own, to take home with him at night, and to keep all
Saturday--the temptation was great, and coming suddenly upon Hughie,
was too much for him. He would surely, somehow, soon pay back the fifty
cents, he argued, and Foxy would wait for the dollar. And yet that
half-dollar was not his, but his mother's, and more than that, if he
asked her for it, he was pretty sure she would refuse. But then, he
doubted his mother's judgment as to his ability to use firearms, and
besides, this pistol at that price was a great bargain, and any of the
boys might pick it up. Poor Hughie! He did not know how ancient was that
argument, nor how frequently it had done duty in smoothing the descent
to the lower regions. The pistol was good to look at, the opportunity
of securing it was such as might not occur again, and as for the
half-dollar, there could be no harm in borrowing that for a little
while.
That was Foxy's day of triumph, but to Hughie it was the beginning of
many woeful days and nights. And his misery came upon him swift and
sure, in the very moment that he turned in from the road at the manse
gate, for he knew that at the end of the lane would be his mother, and
his winged feet, upon which he usually flew from the gate home, dragged
heavily.
He found his mother, not at the door, but in the large, pleasant
living-room, which did for all kinds of rooms in the manse. It was
dining-room and sewing-room, nursery and playroom, but it was always
a good room to enter, and in spite of playthings strewn about, or
snippings of cloth, or other stour, it was always a place of brightness
and of peace, for it was there the mother was most frequently to be
found. This evening she was at the sewing-machine busy with Hughie's
Sunday clothes, with the baby asleep in the cradle beside her in spite
of the din of the flying wheels, and little Robbie helping to pull
through the long seam. Hughie shrank from the warm, bright, loving
atmosphere that seemed to fill the room, hating to go in, but in a
moment he realized that he must "make believe" with his mother, and the
pain of it and the shame of it startled and amazed him. He was glad that
his mother did not notice him enter, and by the time he had put away
his books he had braced himself to meet her bright smile and her welcome
kiss.
The mother did not apparently notice his hesitation.
"Well, my boy, home again?" she cried, holding out her hand to him with
the air of good comradeship she always wore with him. "Are you very
hungry?"
"You bet!" said Hughie, kissing her, and glad of the chance to get away.
"Well, you will find something pretty nice in the pantry we saved for
you. Guess what."
"Don't know."
"I know," shouted Robbie. "Pie! It's muzzie's pie. Muzzie tept it for
'oo."
"Now, Robbie, you were not to tell," said his mother, shaking her finger
at him.
"O-o-o, I fordot," said Robbie, horrified at his failure to keep his
promise.
"Never mind. That's a lesson you will have to learn many times, how to
keep those little lips shut. And the pie will be just as good."
"Thank you, mother," said Hughie. "But I don't want your pie."
"My pie!" said the mother. "Pie isn't good for old women."
"Old women!" said Hughie, indignantly. "You're the youngest and
prettiest woman in the congregation," he cried, and forgetting for the
moment his sense of meanness, he threw his arms round his mother.
"Oh, Hughie, shame on you! What a dreadful flatterer you are!" said his
mother. "Now, run away to your pie, and then to your evening work, my
boy, and we will have a good lesson together after supper."
Hughie ran away, glad to get out of her presence, and seizing the pie,
carried it out to the barn and hurled it far into the snow. He felt sure
that a single bite of it would choke him.
If he could only have seen Foxy any time for the next hour, how gladly
would he have given him back his pistol, but by the time he had fed
his cow and the horses, split the wood and carried it in, and prepared
kindling for the morning's fires, he had become accustomed to his new
self, and had learned his first lesson in keeping his emotions out of
his face. But from that night, and through all the long weeks of the
breaking winter, when games in the woods were impossible by reason
of the snow and water, and when the roads were deep with mud, Hughie
carried his burden with him, till life was one long weariness and dread.
And through these days he was Foxy's slave. A pistol without ammunition
was quite useless. Foxy's stock was near at hand. It was easy to write a
voucher for a penny's worth of powder or caps, and consequently the pile
in Foxy's pencil-box steadily mounted till Hughie was afraid to look at
it. His chance of being free from his own conscience was still remote
enough.
During these days, too, Foxy reveled in his power over his rival, and
ground his slave in bitter bondage, subjecting him to such humiliation
as made the school wonder and Hughie writhe; and if ever Hughie showed
any sign of resentment or rebellion, Foxy could tame him to groveling
submission by a single word. "Well, I guess I'll go down to-night to see
your mother," was all he needed to say to make Hughie grovel again.
For with Hughie it was not the fear of his father's wrath and heavy
punishment, though that was terrible enough, but the dread that his
mother should know, that made him grovel before his tyrant, and wake at
night in a cold sweat. His mother's tender anxiety for his pale face and
gloomy looks only added to the misery of his heart.
He had no one in whom he could confide. He could not tell any of the
boys, for he was unwilling to lose their esteem, besides, it was none
of their business; he was terrified of his father's wrath, and from his
mother, his usual and unfailing resort in every trouble of his whole
life, he was now separated by his terrible secret.
Then Foxy began to insist upon payment of his debts. Spring was at hand,
the store would soon be closed up, for business was slack in the summer,
and besides, Foxy had other use for his money.
"Haven't you got any money at all in your house?" Foxy sneered one day,
when Hughie was declaring his inability to meet his debts.
"Of course we have," cried Hughie, indignantly.
"Don't believe it," said Foxy, contemptuously.
"Father's drawer is sometimes full of dimes and half-dimes. At least,
there's an awful lot on Mondays, from the collections, you know," said
Hughie.
"Well, then, you had better get some for me, somehow," said Foxy. "You
might borrow some from the drawer for a little while."
"That would be stealing," said Hughie.
"You wouldn't mean to keep it," said Foxy. "You would only take it for a
while. It would just be borrowing."
"It wouldn't," said Hughie, firmly. "It's taking out of his drawer. It's
stealing, and I won't steal."
"Huh! you're mighty good all at once. What about that half-dollar?"
"You said yourself that wasn't stealing," said Hughie, passionately.
"Well, what's the difference? You said it was your mother's, and this is
your father's. It's all the same, except that you're afraid to take your
father's."
"I'm not afraid. At least it isn't that. But it's different to take
money out of a drawer, that isn't your own."
"Huh! Mighty lot of difference! Money's money, wherever it is. Besides,
if you borrowed this from your father, you could pay back your mother
and me. You would pay the whole thing right off."
Once more Hughie argued with himself. To be free from Foxy's hateful
tyranny, and to be clear again with his mother--for that he would be
willing to suffer almost anything. But to take money out of that drawer
was awfully like stealing. Of course he would pay it back, and after all
it would only be borrowing. Besides, it would enable him to repay what
he owed to his mother and to Foxy. Through all the mazes of specious
argument Hughie worked his way, arriving at no conclusion, except that
he carried with him a feeling that if he could by some means get that
money out of the drawer in a way that would not be stealing, it would be
a vast relief, greater than words could tell.
That night brought him the opportunity. His father and mother were away
at the prayer meeting. There was only Jessie left in the house, and she
was busy with the younger children. With the firm resolve that he would
not take a single half-dime from his father's drawer, he went into the
study. He would like to see if the drawer were open. Yes, it was open,
and the Sabbath's collection lay there with all its shining invitation.
He tried making up the dollar and a half out of the dimes and
half-dimes. What a lot of half-dimes it took! But when he used the
quarters and dimes, how much smaller the piles were. Only two quarters
and five dimes made up the dollar, and the pile in the drawer looked
pretty much the same as before. Another quarter-dollar withdrawn from
the drawer made little difference. He looked at the little heaps on
the table. He believed he could make Foxy take that for his whole debt,
though he was sure he owed him more. Perhaps he had better make certain.
He transferred two more dimes and a half-dime from the drawer to the
table. It was an insignificant little heap. That would certainly clear
off his whole indebtedness and make him a free man.
He slipped the little heaps of money from the table into his pocket, and
then suddenly he realized that he had never decided to take the money.
The last resolve he could remember making was simply to see how the
dollar and a half looked. Without noticing, he had passed the point of
final decision. Alas! like many another, Hughie found the going easy and
the slipping smooth upon the down incline. Unconsciously he had slipped
into being a thief.
Now he could not go back. His absorbing purpose was concealment. Quietly
shutting the drawer, he was slipping hurriedly up to his own room, when
on the stairway he met Jessie.
"What are you doing here, Jessie?" he asked, sharply.
"Putting Robbie off to bed," said Jessie, in surprise. "What's the
matter with you?"
"What's the matter?" echoed Hughie, smitten with horrible fear that
perhaps she knew. "I just wanted to know," he said, weakly.
He slipped past her, holding his pocket tight lest the coins should
rattle. When he reached his room he stood listening in the dark to
Jessie going down the stairs. He was sure she suspected something.
He would go back and put the money in the drawer again, whenever she
reached the kitchen. He stood there with his heart-beats filling his
ears, waiting for the kitchen door to slam.
Then he resolved he would wrap the money up in paper and put it safely
away, and go down and see if Jessie knew. He found one of his old
copybooks, and began tearing out a leaf. What a noise it made! Robbie
would surely wake up, and then Jessie would come back with the light. He
put the copy-book under the quilt, and holding it down firmly with one
hand, removed the leaf with the other. With great care he wrapped up the
dimes and half-dimes by themselves. They fitted better together. Then
he took up the quarters, and was proceeding to fold them in a similar
parcel, when he heard Jessie's voice from below.
"Hughie, what are you doing?" She was coming up the stair.
He jumped from the bed to go to meet her. A quarter fell on the floor
and rolled under the bed. It seemed to Hughie as if it would never stop
rolling, and as if Jessie must hear it. Wildly he scrambled on the
floor in the dark, seeking for the quarter, while Jessie came nearer and
nearer.
"Are you going to bed already, Hughie?" she asked.
Quickly Hughie went out to the hall to meet her.
"Yes," he yawned, gratefully seizing upon her suggestion. "I'm awfully
sleepy. Give me the candle, Jessie," he said, snatching it from her
hand. "I want to go downstairs."
"Hughie, you are very rude. What would your mother say? Let me have the
candle immediately, I want to get Robbie's stockings."
Hughie's heart stood still.
"I'll throw them down, Jessie. I want the candle downstairs just a
minute."
"Leave that candle with me," insisted Jessie. "There's another on the
dining-room table you can get."
"I'll not be a minute," said Hughie, hurrying downstairs. "You come
down, Jessie, I want to ask you something. I'll throw you Robbie's
stockings."
"Come back here, the rude boy that you are," said Jessie, crossly, "and
bring me that candle."
There was no reply. Hughie was standing, pale and shaking, in the
dining-room, listening intently for Jessie's step. Would she go into his
room, or would she come down? Every moment increased the agony of his
fear.
At length, with a happy inspiration, he went to the cupboard, opened the
door noisily, and began rattling the dishes.
"Mercy me!" he heard Jessie exclaim at the top of the stair. "That boy
will be my death. Hughie," she called, "just shut that cupboard! You
know your mother doesn't like you to go in there."
"I only want a little," called out Hughie, still moving the dishes, and
hearing, to his great relief, Jessie's descending step. In desperation
he seized a dish of black currant preserves which he found on the
cupboard shelf, and spilled it over the dishes and upon the floor just
as Jessie entered the room.
"Land sakes alive, boy! Will you never be done your mischief?" she
cried, rushing toward him.
"Oh!" he said, "I spilt it."
"Spilt it!" echoed Jessie, indignantly, "you needn't be telling me that.
Bring me a cloth from the kitchen."
"I don't know where it is, Jessie," cried Hughie, slipping upstairs
again with his candle.
To his great relief he saw that Jessie's attention was so entirely taken
up with removing the stains of the preserves from the cupboard shelves
and dishes, that she for the moment forgot everything else, Robbie's
stockings included.
Hurrying to his room, and shading the candle with his hand lest the
light should waken his little brother, he hastily seized the money upon
the bed quilt, and after a few moments' searching under the bed, found
the strayed quarter.
With these in his hand he passed into his mother's room. Leaving the
candle there, he came back to the head of the stairs and listened for
a moment, with great satisfaction, to Jessie muttering to herself while
she cleaned up the mess he had made. Then he turned, and with trembling
fingers he swiftly made up the quarter-dollars into another parcel. With
a great sigh of relief he put the two parcels in his pocket, and seizing
his candle turned to leave the room. As he did so, he caught sight of
himself in the glass. With a great shock of surprise he stood gazing at
the terrified, white face, with the staring eyes.
"What a fool I am!" he said, looking at himself in the glass. "Nobody
will know, and I'll pay this back soon."
His eyes wandered to a picture which stood on a little shelf beside the
glass. It was a picture of his mother, the one he loved best of all he
had ever seen of her.
There was a sudden stab of pain at his heart, his breath came in a great
sob. For a moment he looked into the eyes that looked back at him so
full of love and reproach.
"I won't do it," he said, grinding his teeth hard, and forthwith turned
to go to his father's study.
But as he left the room he saw Jessie half-way up the stairs.
"What are you doing now?" she cried, wrathfully. "Up to some mischief, I
doubt."
With a sudden, inexplicable rage, Hughie turned toward her.
"It's none of your business! You mind your own business, will you, and
leave me alone." The terrible emotions of the last few minutes were at
the back of his rage.
"Just wait, you," said Jessie, "till your mother comes. Then you'll hear
it."
"You shut your mouth!" cried Hughie, his passion sweeping his whole
being like a tempest. "You shut your mouth, you old cat, or I'll throw
this candle at you." He raised the candle high in his hand as he spoke,
and altogether looked so desperate that Jessie stood in terror lest he
should make good his threat.
"Stop, now, Hughie," she entreated. "You will be setting the house on
fire."
Hughie hesitated a moment, and then turned from her, and going into his
room, banged the door in her face, and Jessie, not knowing what to make
of it all, went slowly downstairs again, forgetting once more Robbie's
stockings.
"The old cat!" said Hughie to himself. "She just stopped me. I was going
to put it back."
The memory that he had resolved to undo his wrong brought him a curious
sense of relief.
"I was just going to put it back," he said, "when she had to interfere."
He was conscious of a sense of injury against Jessie. It was not his
fault that that money was not now in the drawer.
"I'll put it back in the morning, anyhow," he said, firmly. But even as
he spoke he was conscious of an infinality in his determination, while
he refused to acknowledge to himself a secret purpose to leave the
question open till the morning. But this determination, inconclusive
though it was, brought him a certain calm of mind, so that when his
mother came into his room she found him sound asleep.
She stood beside his bed looking down upon him for a few moments, with
face full of anxious sadness.
"There's something wrong with the boy," she said to herself, stooping to
kiss him. "There's something wrong with him," she repeated, as she left
the room. "He's not the same."
During these weeks she had been conscious that Hughie had changed in
some way to her. The old, full, frank confidence was gone. There was
a constraint in his manner she could not explain. "He is no longer
a child," she would say to herself, seeking to allay the pain in her
heart. "A boy must have his secrets. It is foolish in me to think
anything else. Besides, he is not well. He is growing too fast." And
indeed, Hughie's pale, miserable face gave ground enough for this
opinion.
"That boy is not well," she said to her husband.
"Which boy?"
"Hughie," she replied. "He is looking miserable, and somehow he is
different."
"Oh, nonsense! He eats well enough, and sleeps well enough," said her
husband, making light of her fears.
"There's something wrong," repeated his wife. "And he hates his school."
"Well, I don't wonder at that," said her husband, sharply. "I don't see
how any boy of spirit could take much pleasure in that kind of a school.
The boys are just wasting their time, and worse than that, they have
lost all the old spirit. I must see to it that the policy of those
close-fisted trustees is changed. I am not going to put up with those
chits of girls teaching any longer."
"There may be something in what you say," said his wife, sadly, "but
certainly Hughie is always begging to stay at home from school."
"And indeed, he might as well stay home," answered her husband, "for all
the good he gets."
"I do wish we had a good man in charge," replied his wife, with a great
sigh. "It is very important that these boys should have a good, strong
man over them. How much it means to a boy at Hughie's time of life! But
so few are willing to come away into the backwoods here for so small a
salary."
Suddenly her husband laid down his pipe.
"I have it!" he exclaimed. "The very thing! Wouldn't this be the very
thing for young Craven. You remember, the young man that Professor
MacLauchlan was writing about."
His wife shook her head very decidedly.
"Not at all," she said. "Didn't Professor MacLauchlan say he was
dissipated?"
"O, just a little wild. Got going with some loose companions. Out here
there would be no temptation."
"I am not at all sure of that," said his wife, "and I would not like
Hughie to be under his influence."
"MacLauchlan says he is a young man of fine disposition and of fine
parts," argued her husband, "and if temptation were removed from him he
believes he would turn out a good man."
Mrs. Murray shook her head doubtfully. "He is not the man to put Hughie
under just now."
"What are we to do with Hughie?" replied her husband. "He is getting no
good in the school as it is, and we cannot send him away yet."
"Send him away!" exclaimed his wife. "No, no, not a child like that."
"Craven might be a very good man," continued her husband. "He might
perhaps live with us. I know you have more than enough to do now," he
added, answering her look of dismay, "but he would be a great help to
Hughie with his lessons, and might start him in his classics. And then,
who knows what you might make of the young man."
Mrs. Murray did not respond to her husband's smile, but only replied,
"I am sure I wish I knew what is the matter with the boy, and I wish he
could leave school for a while."
"O, the boy is all right," said her husband, impatiently. "Only a little
less noisy, as far as I can see."
"No, he is not the same," replied his wife. "He is different to me."
There was almost a cry of pain in her voice.
"Now, now, don't imagine things. Boys are full of notions at Hughie's
age. He may need a change, but that is all."
With this the mother tried to quiet the tumult of anxious fear and pain
she found rising in her heart, but long after the house was still, and
while both her boy and his father lay asleep, she kept pouring forth
that ancient sacrifice of self-effacing love before the feet of God.
More
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It was a month before Trevison went to town, again. Only once during that time did he see Rosalind Benham, for the Blakeleys had vacated, and goods and servants had arrived from the East and needed attention. Rosalind presided at the Bar B ranchho... Failure
Smaltz was a liar, as he said, but Bruce knew that he had told the truth regarding Banule's work. He confirmed the suspicions and fears that had been in Bruce's mind for months. Therefore, when he said quietly to Banule--"You'd better go up the hi... Faith And Unfaith
At Jane Withersteen's home the promise made to Mrs. Larkin to care for little Fay had begun to be fulfilled. Like a gleam of sunlight through the cottonwoods was the coming of the child to the gloomy house of Withersteen. The big, silent h... Fay
At the home of Jane Withersteen Little Fay was climbing Lassiter's knee. "Does oo love me?" she asked. Lassiter, who was as serious with Fay as he was gentle and loving, assured her in earnest and elaborate speech that he was ... Fire And Firecrackers
"What's that!" "The garage on fire!" "Say, look at the blaze!" Such were some of the cries, as the boys tumbled out of bed, one after another. A bright glare of fire was dancing over the walls of the rooms. "It's some brushwood behind th... Fire!
"It was not so much his wounds as his weakness," Dr. Graham was saying, later still that autumn night, "that led to my declaring Blakely unfit to take the field. He would have gone in spite of me, but for the general's order. He has gone now in sp... First Blood
After Ridgway's cavalier refusal to negotiate a peace treaty, Simon Harley and his body-guard walked back to the offices of the Consolidated, where they arrived at the same time as the news of the enemy's first blow since the declaration of renewed ... First Blood!
Occasionally Alice Mackenzie met Collins on the streets of Tucson. Once she saw him at the hotel where she was staying, deep in a discussion with her father of ways and means of running down the robbers of the Limited. He did not, however, make the ... First Principles
Judge Lindman shivered, though a merciless, blighting sun beat down on the great stone ledge that spread in front of the opening, smothering him with heat waves that eddied in and out, and though the interior of the low-ceilinged chamber pulsed wi... First Sight Of The Foe
Ray's gallant half hundred, as has been said, took the route for the north at break of day. Before them spread the open prairie, apparently level and unbroken for full five miles to the front and either flank, the distant slopes and ridges boundin... Flemister And Others
The jocosely spectacular arrest of Barton Rufford, with its appeal to the grim humor of the desert, was responsible for a brief lull in the storm of antagonism evoked by Lidgerwood's attempt to bring order out of the chaos reigning in his small king... Flesh
I Should you chance, in crossing a certain mountain pass in southern Catalonia, to find yourself poised above a little valley against the opposite side of which lies a monastery, look to the heights above it. Should you piece out from among the... Flight
There was a girl named Joan who followed Pierre Landis because he laid his hand upon her wrist, and there was another Joan who fled up the mountain-side at sight of him, as though the fire that had once touched her shoulder had burnt its way into ... Florence Grace Hallman Speaks Plainly
Andy Green rode thoughtfully up the trail from his cabin in One Man coulee, his hat tilted to the south to shield his face from the climbing sun, his eyes fixed absently upon the yellow soil of the hillside. Andy was facing a problem that concerned ... Following A Crooked Trail
Across Dry Valley a dust cloud had been moving for hours. It rolled into Saguache at the brisk heels of a bunch of horses just about the time the town was settling itself to supper. At the intersection of Main and La Junta streets the cloud was ch... For A Good Reason
The young ladies, following the custom of Arizona in summer, were riding by the light of the stars to avoid the heat of the day. They rode leisurely, chatting as their ponies paced side by side. For though they were cousins they were getting acquain... For Once At Least Lite Had His Way
Half a mile she galloped, and met Lite coming home. She glanced over her shoulder before she pulled Pard down to a walk, and Lite's greeting, as he turned and rode alongside her, was a question. He wanted to know what was the matter with her. He ... For The Good Of The Company
All through breakfast Applehead seemed to have something weighty on his mind. He kept pulling at his streaked, reddish-gray mustache when his fingers should have been wholly occupied with his food, and he stared abstractedly at the ground after he h... For The Kiddies
Trevison dropped from Nigger at the dooryard of Levins' cabin, and looked with a grim smile at Levins himself lying face downward across the saddle on his own pony. He had carried Levins out of the Belmont and had thrown him, as he would have thro... For The World's Championship
The scene on which Helen Messiter's eyes rested that mellow Fourth of July was vivid enough to have interested a far more jaded mind than hers. Nowhere outside of Cattleland could it have been duplicated. Wyoming is sparsely populated, but the rider... Forebodings
Almost at once they struck a fresh trail, made by a number of horsemen riding in a bunch, which led diagonally across middle pasture. It was easy to follow, and Hardenberg pushed his men hard to make up for delays which were likely to come later o... Foreshadowed Events
The major commanding looked up from the morning report and surveyed the post adjutant with something of perturbation, if not annoyance, in his grim, gray eyes. For the fourth time that week had Lieutenant Field requested permission to be absent fo... Forging A Letter
The impulse which had moved Harlan to send Red Linton to the T Down ranch to enlist the services of some of his old friends had resulted from a conviction that he could not depend upon those men of the Rancho Seco outfit who had seemed to him, to ... Fort Buford
We were at our rope's end. There were a few accounts to settle in Glendive, after which we would shake its dust from our feet. Very few of the quarantine guards returned to town, and with the exception of Sheriff Wherry, none of the leading cowmen, ... Foxy
After the expulsion of the master, the Twentieth School fell upon evil days, for the trustees decided that it would be better to try "gurl" teachers, as Hughie contemptuously called them; and this policy prevailed for two or three years, with the ... Foxy's Partner
It was an evil day for Hughie when he made friends with Foxy and became his partner in the store business, for Hughie's hoardings were never large, and after buying a Christmas present for his mother, according to his unfailing custom, they were r... Friendly Enemies
Ridgway had promised Aline that he would see her soon, and when he found himself in New York he called at the big house on Fifth Avenue, which had for so long been identified as the home of Simon Harley. It bore his impress stamped on it. Its auster... Friends From The East
Three days after her return to the ranch Madeline could not discover any physical discomfort as a reminder of her adventurous experiences. This surprised her, but not nearly so much as the fact that after a few weeks she found she scarcely remembere... Friends Or Foes?
Tom Fish had a profound respect for Return Kingdom from the moment the latter threw him; but he was no less pleasant and agreeable than before, and he proved himself a valuable friend then and in days long afterward. When night came, as the wind... From The Plains To The Point
CHAPTER I. RALPH MCCREA. The sun was going down, and a little girl with big, dark eyes who was sitting in the waiting-room of the railway station was beginning to look very tired. Ever since the train came in at one o'clock she had been... From The Point To The Plains
CHAPTER I. A CADET'S SISTER. She was standing at the very end of the forward deck, and, with flushing cheeks and sparkling eyes, gazing eagerly upon the scene before her. Swiftly, smoothly rounding the rugged promontory on the right, th... Fugitives From Justice
At the Lodge too an early breakfast was held, though it was five hours later than the one at the camp. The whole party was down by nine-thirty and was on the road within the hour. The morning was such a one as only the Rockies can produce. The win... Further Developments
While Harley had been in no way responsible for Pelton's murderous attack upon Yesler, public opinion held him to account. The Pinkertons who had, up till this time, been employed at the mines, were now moved to the hotel to be ready for an emergenc... Further Perplexities
Wayland, for his part, was not deceived by Siona Moore. He knew her kind, and understood her method of attack. He liked her pert ways, for they brought back his days at college, when dozens of just such misses lent grace and humor and romance to t... God's Ravens
I CHICAGO has three winds that blow upon it. One comes from the East, and the mind goes out to the cold gray-blue lake. One from the North, and men think of illimitable spaces of pinelands and maple-clad ridges which lead to the unknown deeps of ... Gold
As Lassiter had reported to Jane, Venters "went through" safely, and after a toilsome journey reached the peaceful shelter of Surprise Valley. When finally he lay wearily down under the silver spruces, resting from the strain of dragging p... Goliday's Choice
The east was streaked with pink and orange when The Kid and Harry Thomas rode into the sleeping town of Mariposa. The little Mexican city, they discovered, however, was not entirely asleep. At the northern edge of the city, on the stretch of sand... Gone
Motionless in his saddle, save for an occasional restless stamp of his horse, Bud Jessup waited patiently in front of the adobe shack at Las Vegas camp. His face was serious and thoughtful, and his glance was fixed on the open door through which c... Good Enough
"Alf" Banule, the electrical genius for whom Jennings had sent to help him rewind an armature and who therefore had taken Jennings's place as constructing engineer, had the distinction of being the only person Bruce had ever seen who could remove ... Good Indian
There is a saying--and if it is not purely Western, it is at least purely American--that the only good Indian is a dead Indian. In the very teeth of that, and in spite of the fact that he was neither very good, nor an Indian--nor in any sense "dead"... Good News
Pink rolled over in his bed so that he might look--however sleepily--upon his fellows, dressing more or less quietly in the cool dawn-hour. "Say, I got a letter for you, Weary," he yawned, stretching both arms above his head. "I opened it and rea... Grandmother Stark
Except for its chair and bed, the cabin was stripped almost bare. Amid its emptiness of dismantled shelves and walls and floor, only the tiny ancestress still hung in her place, last token of the home that had been. This miniature, tacked against ... Gray Envelopes
It was with more than the usual sinking of heart that Jasper let himself that evening into the beautiful house which Betty and he called their home. Joan's too expressive look had stung the old soreness of his disillusionment. He knew that the hou... Grey Molly
If her soul had been capable of enthusiasm, Marne could have made the trip on schedule time, but she was a burro good for nothing except to carry a pack well nigh half her own weight, live on forage that might have starved a goat, and smell water fi... Guardian Angels Are Riding Point
They plunged into darkness again, rode at a half trot over smooth, hard sand, Bud trusting himself wholly to Marian and to the sagacity of the two horses who could see, he hoped, much better than he himself could. His keen hearing had caught a faint... Guile Against The Wily
Bud liked to have his life run along accustomed lines with a more or less perfect balance of work and play, friendships and enmities. He had grown up with the belief that any mystery is merely a synonym for menace. He had learned to be wary of known... Hail And Farewell
Supper was served in the inner room opening from the corridor lit by a few swinging lanterns of polished horn and a dozen wax candles of sacerdotal size and suggestion. The apartment, though spacious, was low and crypt-like, and was not relieved b... Hands Up
Melissy had been up the Can del Oro for wild poppies in her runabout and had just reached the ranch. She was disposing of her flowers in ollas when Jim Budd, waiter, chambermaid, and odd jobs man at the Bar Double G, appeared in the hall with a fr... Hank's Woman
I Many fish were still in the pool; and though luck seemed to have left me, still I stood at the end of the point, casting and casting my vain line, while the Virginian lay and watched. Noonday's extreme brightness had left the river and the pl... Happy Jack
Big Medicine, Irish and Pink, racing almost abreast, heard a scream behind them and pulled up their horses with short, stiff-legged plunges. A brown horse overtook them; a brown horse, with Happy Jack clinging to the saddle-horn, his body swaying fa... Harlan Joins The Gang
At the edge of the big level, where it merged into the floor of the basin, Harlan drew Purgatory to a halt. For an instant he sat in the saddle scrutinizing a section of buffalo grass that fringed a clump of willows near the almost dry bed of the ... Harlan Rides Alone
Upon the morning of the fourth day following Haydon's visit to the Rancho Seco, a dust cloud developed on the northwestern horizon. Harlan observed the cloud; he had been watching for it since dawn, when he had emerged from the stable door, where ... Harlan Strikes
Joe Barr laughingly replied to Johnny Nelson's growled remarks about the condition of things in general and tried to soothe him, but Johnny was unsoothable. "An' I've been telling him right along that he's got the best of it," complained Jackson ... Harlan Takes Charge
Barbara could not have told why she had not acted upon her determination to ride westward to the Star ranch to acquaint John Haydon with the predicament into which the events of the past few hours had plunged her. She could not have explained why ... Harley Makes A Proposition
Apparently the head of the great trust intended to lose no time in having that business talk with Ridgway, which he had graciously promised the latter. Eaton and his chief were busy over some applications for leases when Smythe came into the room wi... Harley Scores
What Harley had sought in the subornation of Eaton had been as much the moral effect of his defection as the tangible results themselves. If he could shake the confidence of the city and State in the freebooter's victorious star, he would have done ... Harry Conroy At Home
It was late next morning when they got under way; for they had not reached camp until long after midnight, and Wooden Shoes was determined the cattle should have one good feed, and all the water they wanted, to requite them for the hard drive of the... Harry Lossing
THE note-book of Mr. Horatio Armorer, president of our street railways, contained a page of interest to some people in our town, on the occasion of his last visit. He wrote it while the train creaked over the river, and the porter of his Pullman ... Head South And Keep Going
At a lunch wagon down near the water front, Bud stopped and bought two "hot dog" sandwiches and a mug of hot coffee boiled with milk in it and sweetened with three cubes of sugar. "O-oh, boy!" he ejaculated gleefully when he set his teeth into biscuit ... Held Up By Mr Kelly
"'Traveler, what lies over the hill?'" questioned a mischievous voice. Keith, dreaming along a winding, rock-strewn trail in the canyon, looked up quickly and beheld his Heart's Desire sitting calmly upon her horse, ten feet before Redcloud's no... Her Majesty's Rancho
FIVE months brought all that Stillwell had dreamed of, and so many more changes and improvements and innovations that it was as if a magic touch had transformed the old ranch. Madeline and Alfred and Florence had talked over a fitting name, and had ...