A Dinner For Three
: Bucky O'connor"I thought we bumped you off down at Epitaph," Leroy said.
"Along with Scott? Well, no. You see, I'm a regular cat to kill, Mr.
Leroy, and I couldn't conscientiously join the angels with so lame a
story as a game laig to explain my coming," said Collins cheerfully.
"In that case--"
"Yes, I understand. You'd be willing to accommodate with a hole in the
haid instead of one in the
"What are you doing here? Didn't I warn you to attend to your own
business and leave me alone?"
"Seems to me you did load me up with some good advice, but I plumb
forgot to follow it."
The Wolf cursed under his breath. "You came here at your own risk,
then?"
"Well, I did and I didn't," corrected the sheriff easily. "I've got a
five-thousand policy in the Southeastern Life Insurance Company, so I
reckon it's some risk to them. And, by the way, it's a company I can
recommend."
"Does it insure against suicide?" asked Leroy, his masked, smiling face
veiling thinly a ruthless purpose.
"And against hanging. Let me strongly urge you to take out a policy at
once," came the prompt retort.
"You think it necessary?"
"Quite. When you and York Neil and Hardman made an end of Scott you
threw ropes round your own necks. Any locoed tenderfoot would know
that."
The sheriff's unflinching look met the outlaw's black frown serene and
clear-eyed.
"And would he know that you had committed suicide when you ran this
place down and came here?" asked Leroy, with silken cruelty.
"Well, he ought to know it. The fact is, Mr. Leroy, that it hadn't
penetrated my think-tank that this was your hacienda when I came
mavericking in."
"Just out riding for your health?"
"Not exactly. I was looking for Miss Mackenzie. I cut her trail about
six miles from the Rocking Chair and followed it where she wandered
around. The trail led directly away from the ranch toward the mountains.
That didn't make me any easy in my mind. So I just jogged along and
elected myself an investigating committee. I arrived some late, but here
I am, right side up--and so hearty welcome that my friend Cork won't
hear of my leaving at all. He don't do a thing but entertain me--never
lets his attention wander. Oh, I'm the welcome guest, all right. No
doubt about that."
Wolf Leroy turned to Alice. "I think you had better go to your room," he
said gently.
"Oh, no, no; let me stay," she implored. "You would never--you would
never--" The words died on her white lips, but the horror in her eyes
finished the question.
He met her gaze fully, and answered her doggedly. "You're not in this,
Miss Mackenzie. It's between him and me. I shan't allow even you to
interfere."
"But--oh, it is horrible! for two minutes."
He shook his head.
"You must! Please."
"What use?"
Let me see you alone
Her troubled gaze shifted to the strong, brown, sun-baked face of the
man who had put himself in this deadly peril to save her. His keen,
blue-gray eyes, very searching and steady, met hers with a courage
she thought splendid, and her heart cried out passionately against the
sacrifice.
"You shall not do it. Oh, please let me talk it over with you."
"No."
"Have you forgotten already?--and you said you would always remember."
She almost whispered it.
She had stung his consent at last. "Very well," he said, and opened the
door to let her pass into the inner room.
But she noticed that his eyes were hard as jade.
"Don't you see that he came here to save me?" she cried, when they were
alone. "Don't you see it was for me? He didn't come to spy out your
place of hiding."
"I see that he has found it. If I let him go, he will bring back a posse
to take us."
"You could ride across the line into Mexico."
"I could, but I won't."
"But why?"
"Because, Miss Mackenzie, the money we took from the express car of the
Limited is hidden here, and I don't know where it is; because the sun
won't ever rise on a day when Val Collins will drive me out of Arizona."
"I don't know what you mean about the money, but you must let him go.
You spoke of a service I had done you. This is my pay."
"To turn him loose to hunt us down?"
"He'll not trouble you if you let him go."
A sardonic smile touched his face. "A lot you know of him. He thinks it
his duty to rid the earth of vermin like us. He'd never let up till he
got us or we got him. Well, we've got him now, good and plenty. He took
his chances, didn't he? It isn't as if he didn't know what he was up
against. He'll tell you himself it's a square deal. He's game, and he
won't squeal because we win and he has to pay forfeit."
The girl wrung her hands despairingly.
"It's his life or mine--and not only mine, but my men's," continued the
outlaw. "Would you turn a wolf loose from your sheep pen to lead the
pack to the kill?"
"But if he were to promise--"
"We're not talking about the ordinary man--he'd promise anything and lie
to-morrow. But Sheriff Collins won't do it. If you think you can twist a
promise out of him not to take advantage of what he has found out you're
guessing wrong. When you think he's a quitter, just look at that cork
hand of his, and remember how come he to get it. He'll take his medicine
proper, but he'll never crawl."
"There must be some way," she cried desperately,
"Since you make a point of it, I'll give him his chance."
"You'll let him go?" The joy in her voice was tremulously plain.
He laughed, leaning carelessly against the mantelshelf. But his narrowed
eyes watched her vigilantly. "I didn't say I would let him go. What I
said was that I'd give him a chance."
"How?"
"They say he's a dead shot. I'm a few with a gun myself. We'll ride
down to the plains together, and find a good lonely spot suitable for
a graveyard. Then one of us will ride away, and the other will stay, or
perhaps both of us will stay."
She shuddered. "No--no--no. I won't have it."
"Afraid something might happen to me, ma'am?" he asked, with a queer
laugh,
"I won't have it."
"Afraid, perhaps, he might be the one left for the coyotes and the
buzzards?"
She was white to the lips, but at his next word the blood came flaming
back to her cheeks.
"Why don't you tell the truth? Why don't you; say you love him, and be
done with it? Say it and I'll take him back to Tucson with you safe as
if he were a baby."
She covered her face with her hands, but with two steps he had reached
her and captured he hands.
"The truth," he demanded, and his eyes compelled.
"It is to save his life?"
He laughed harshly. "Here's melodrama for you! Yes--to save your lover's
life."
She lifted her eyes to his bravely. "What you say is true. I love him."
Leroy bowed ironically. "I congratulate Mr. Collins, who is now quite
safe, so far as I am concerned. Meanwhile, lest he be jealous of your
absence, shall we return now?"
Some word of sympathy for the reckless scamp trembled on her lips, but
her instinct told her would hold it insult added to injury, and she left
her pity unvoiced.
"If you please."
But as he heeled away she laid a timid hand on his arm. He turned and
looked grimly down at the working face, at the sweet, soft, pitiful
eyes brimming with tears. She was pure woman now, all the caste pride
dissolved in yearning pity.
"Oh, you lamb--you precious lamb," he groaned, and clicked his teeth
shut on the poignant pain of his loss.
"I think you're splendid," she told him. "Oh, I know what you've
done--that you are not good. I know you've wasted your life and lived
with your hand against every man's. But I can't help all that. I look
for the good in you, and I find it. Even in your sins you are not petty.
You know how to rise to an opportunity."
This man of contradictions, forever the creature of his impulses, gave
the lie to her last words by signally failing to rise to this one. He
snatched her to him, and looked down hungry-eyed at her sweet beauty, as
fresh and fragrant as the wild rose in the copse.
"Please," she cried, straining from him with shy, frightened eyes.
For answer he kissed her fiercely on the cheeks, and eyes, and mouth.
"The rest are his, but these are mine," he laughed mirthlessly.
Then, flinging her from him, he led the way into the next room. Flushed
and disheveled, she followed. He had outraged her maiden instincts and
trampled down her traditions of caste, but she had no time to think of
this now.
"If you're through explaining the mechanism of that Winchester to
Sheriff Collins we'll reluctantly dispense with your presence, Mr.
Reilly. We have arranged a temporary treaty of peace," the chief outlaw
said.
Reilly, a huge lout of a fellow with a lowering countenance, ventured
to expostulate. "Ye want to be careful of him. He's quicker'n chain
lightning."
His chief exploded with low-voiced fury. "When I ask your advice, give
it, you fat-brained son of a brand blotter. Until then padlock that
mouth of yours. Vamos."
Reilly vanished, his face a picture of impotent malice, and Leroy
continued:
"We're going to the Rocking Chair in the morning, Mr. Collins--at
least, you and Miss Mackenzie are going there. I'm going part way. We've
arranged a little deal all by our lones, subject to your approval. You
get away without that hole in your head. Miss Mackenzie goes with you,
and I get in return the papers you took off Scott and Webster."
"You mean I am to give up the hunt?" asked Collins.
"Not at all. I'll be glad to death to see you blundering in again when
Miss Mackenzie isn't here to beg you off. The point is that in exchange
for your freedom and Miss Mackenzie's I get those papers you left in a
safety-deposit vault in Epitaph. It'll save me the trouble of sticking
up the First National and winging a few indiscreet citizens of that
burgh. Savvy?"
"That's all you ask?" demanded the surprised sheriff.
"All I ask is to get those papers in my hand and a four-hour start
before you begin the hunt. Is it a deal?"
"It's a deal, but I give it to you straight that I'll be after you as
soon as the four hours are up," returned Collins promptly. "I don't know
what magic Miss Mackenzie used. Still, I must compliment her on getting
us out mighty easy."
But though the sheriff looked smilingly at Alice, that young woman,
usually mistress of herself in all emergencies, did not lift her eyes
to meet his. Indeed, he thought her strangely embarrassed. She was as
flushed and tongue-tied as a country girl in unaccustomed company. She
seemed another woman than the self-possessed young beauty he had met a
month before on the Limited, but he found her shy abashment charming.
"I guess you thought you had come to the end of the passage, Mr.
Collins," suggested the outlaw, with listless curiosity.
"I didn't know whether to order the flowers or not, but 'way down in my
heart I was backing my luck," Collins told him.
"Of course it's understood that you are on parole until we separate,"
said Leroy curtly.
"Of course."
"Then we'll have supper at once, for we'll have to be on the road
early." He clapped his hands together, and the Mexican woman appeared.
Her master flung out a command or two in her own language.
"--poco tiempo,--" she answered, and disappeared.
In a surprisingly short time the meal was ready, set out on a table
white with Irish linen and winking with cut glass and silver.
"Mr. Leroy does not believe at all in doing when in Rome as the Romans
do," Alice explained to Collins, in answer to his start of amazement.
"He's a regular Aladdin. I shouldn't be a bit surprised to see electric
lights come on next."
"One has to attempt sometimes to blot out the forsaken desert," said
Leroy. "Try this cut of slow elk, Miss Mackenzie. I think you'll like
it."
"Slow elk! What is that?" asked the girl, to make talk.
"Mr. Collins will tell you," smiled Leroy.
She turned to the sheriff, who first apologized, with a smile, to his
host. "Slow elk, Miss Mackenzie, is veal that has been rustled. I expect
Mr. Leroy has pressed a stray calf into our Service."
"I see," she flashed. "Pressed veal."
The outlaw smiled at her ready wit, and took on himself the burden of
further explanation. "And this particular slow elk comes from a ranch on
the Aravaipa owned by Mr. Collins. York shot it up in the hills a day or
two ago."
"Shouldn't have been straying so far from its range," suggested Collins,
with a laugh. "But it's good veal, even if I say it that shouldn't."
"Thank you," burlesqued the bandit gravely, with such an ironic touch of
convention that Alice smiled.
After dinner Leroy produced cigars, and with the permission of Miss
Mackenzie the two men smoked while the conversation ran on a topic as
impersonal as literature. A criticism of novels and plays written to
illustrate the frontier was the line into which the discussion fell, and
the girl from the city, listening with a vivid interest, was pleased to
find that these two real men talked with point and a sense of dexterous
turns. She felt a sort of proud proprietorship in their power, and
wished that some of the tailors' models she had met in society, who held
so good a conceit of themselves, might come under the spell of their
strong, tolerant virility. Whatever the difference between them, it
might be truly said of both that they had lived at first hand and come
in touch closely with all the elemental realities. One of them was
a romantic villain and the other an unromantic hero, but her pulsing
emotions morally condemned one no more than the other.
This was the sheer delight of her esthetic sense of fitness, that strong
men engaged in a finish fight could rise to so perfect a courtesy that
an outsider could not have guessed the antagonism that ran between them,
enduring as life.
Leroy gave the signal for breaking up by looking at his watch. "Afraid I
must say 'Lights out.' It's past eleven. We'll have to be up and on
our way with the hooters. Sleep well, Miss Mackenzie. You don't need to
worry about waking. I'll have you called in good time. Buenos noches."
He held the door for her as she passed out; and, in passing, her eyes
rose to meet his.
"--Buenos noches, senor;--I'm sure I shall sleep well to-night," she
said.
It had been the day of Alice Mackenzie' life. Emotions and sensations,
surging through her, had trodden on each other's heels. Woman-like, she
welcomed the darkness to analyze and classify the turbid chaos of her
mind. She had been swept into sympathy with an outlaw, to give him no
worse name. She had felt herself nearer to him than to some honest men
she could name who had offered her their love.
Surely, that had been bad enough, but worse was to follow. This
discerning scamp had torn aside her veils of maiden reserve and exposed
the secret fancy of her heart, unknown before even to herself. She had
confessed love for this big-hearted sheriff and frontiersman. Here
she could plead an ulterior motive. To save his life any deception was
permissible. Yes, but where lay the truth? With that insistent demand of
the outlaw had rushed over her a sudden wave of joy. What could it mean
unless it meant what she would not admit that it could mean? Why, the
man was impossible. He was not of her class. She had scarce seen him a
half-dozen times. Her first meeting with him had been only a month ago.
One month ago--
A remembrance flashed through her that brought her from the bed in a
barefoot search for matches. When the candle was relit he slipped a
chamoisskin pouch from her neck and from it took a sealed envelope. It
was the note in which the sheriff on the night of the train robbery had
written his prediction of how the matter would come out. She was to open
the envelope in a month, and the month was up to-night.
As she tore open the flap it came to her with one of her little flashing
smiles that she could never have guessed under what circumstances she
would read it. By the dim flame of a guttering candle, in a cotton
nightgown borrowed from a Mexican menial, a prisoner of the very man who
had robbed her and the recipient of a practical confession of love
from him not three hours earlier! Surely here was a situation to beggar
romance. But before she had finished reading the reality was still more
unbelievable.
I have just met for the first time the woman I am going to marry if God
is good to one. I am writing this because I want her to know it as soon
as I decently can. Of course, I am not worthy of her, but then I don't
know any man that is.
So the fact goes--I'm bound to marry her if there's nobody else in the
way. This isn't conceit. It is a deep-seated certainty I can't get away
from, and don't want to. When she reads this, she will think it a piece
of foolish presumption. My hope is she will not always think so. Her
Lover,
VAL COLLINS.
Her swift-pulsing heart was behaving very queerly. It seemed to hang
delightfully still, and then jump forward with odd little beats of
joy. She caught a glimpse of her happy face, and blew out the light for
shame, groping her way back to bed with the letter carefully guarded
against crumpling by her hand.
Foolish presumption indeed. Why, he had only seen her once, and he said
he would marry her with never a by-your-leave! Wasn't that what he had
said? She had to strike another match to learn the lines that had not
stuck word for word in her mind, and after that another match to get a
picture of the scrawl to visualize in the dark.
How dared he take her for granted? But what a masterly way of wooing for
the right man! What idiotic folly if he had been the wrong one! Was he,
then, the right one? She questioned herself closely, but came to no more
definite answer than this--that her heart went glad with a sweet joy to
know he wanted to marry her.
She resolved to put him from her mind, and in this resolve she fell at
last into smiling sleep.
More
-
A Man Is Born Again
The meeting between Catherson and Randerson had taken the edge off Catherson's frenzy, but it had not shaken his determination. He had been in the grip of an insane wrath when he had gone to see the Flying W range boss. His passions had ruled him,... Dave Porter's Past
"What do you think of that, fellows?" asked Roger, as he concluded the reading of the letter. "I am not surprised," answered Dave. "Now that Merwell finds he can't show himself where he is known, he must be very bitter in mind." "I thought he... The Bubble Dreams
Loping his pony through the golden haze of the afternoon, Randerson came over the plains toward the Flying W ranchhouse, tingling with anticipation. The still small voice to which he had listened in the days before Ruth's coming had not lied to hi... The Landslide Mine
"Roger, that sounds like a fairy tale--a real gold mine belonging to your mother lost through a landslide!" "So it does sound like a fairy tale, Dave; but it is absolutely true. The mine was owned by my uncle, Maurice Harrison, of Butte, Montana... 0n The Snow-trail
Aline had passed into the house, moved by an instinct which shrank from publicity in the inevitable personal meeting between her and her husband. Now, Harley, with the cavalier nod of dismissal, which only a multimillionaire can afford, followed her... A Band Of Guerrillas
Madeline bolted the door, and, flying into the kitchen, she told the scared servants to shut themselves in. Then she ran to her own rooms. It was only a matter of a few moments for her to close and bar the heavy shutters, yet even as she was fasteni... A Bargain
Melissy saw the two prisoners brought in, though she could not tell at that distance who they were. Her watch told her that it was four-thirty. She had slept scarcely at all during the night, but now she lay down on the bed in her clothes. The ... A Bargain With Peg-leg
"Hey, youse!" shouted the car-boy. He brought his trundling, jolting, loose-jointed car to a halt by the face of the drift. "Hey, youse!" he shouted again. Bunt shut off the Burly air-drill and nodded. "Chaw," he remarked to me. We clamber... A Bear Trap
The winding trail led up to the scrub pines and from there north into the hills. Curly had not traveled far when he heard the sound of a gun fired three times in quick succession. He stopped to listen. Presently there came a faint far call for hel... A Bit Of Paper
Good Indian came out upon the rim-rock, looked down upon the ranch beneath him, and knew, by various little movements about the place, that breakfast was not yet ready. Gene was carrying two pails of milk to the house, and Wally and Jack were wateri... A Blizzard
Moya found in Goldbanks much to interest her. Its helter-skelter streets following the line of least resistance, its slapdash buildings, the scarred hillsides dotted with red shaft-houses beneath which straggled slate-colored dumps like long beard... A Bluff Is Called
Torpid lay Aravaipa in a coma of sunheat. Its adobe-lined streets basked in the white glare of an Arizona spring at midday. One or two Papago Indians, with their pottery wares, squatted in the shade of the buildings, but otherwise the plaza was dese... A Bound Boy's Story
With the horses gone beyond recapture, Big Pete must needs depend on his own legs if he meant to escape. The constable's party could not be far behind, and with the boy, whose throat he clutched, to point the way in which he had gone, when the off... A Branch Road
I "Keep the main-travelled road till you come to a branch leading off-keep to the right." IN the windless September dawn a voice went singing, a man's voice, singing a cheap and common air. Yet something in the elan of it all told he was you... A Buckshot Greeting
"Oh, the cows stampede on the Rio Grande! The Rio! The sands do blow, and the winds do wail, But I want to be wheah the cactus stands! And the rattlah shakes his ornery tail!" Kid Wolf sang his favorite verse to his favorit... A Call For Help
That night the wire across the mountains to Prescott was long alive with news, and there was little rest for operator, adjutant, or commanding officer at Sandy. Colonel Byrne, it seems, had lost telegraphic touch with his chief, who, quitting Camp... A Capture
Flatray swung around Old Baldy through the sparse timber that edged its roots. He knew this country well; for he had run cattle here, and combed the draws and ridges on the annual spring and fall round-ups. There was no trail to follow. Often th... A Carpet Knight Indeed
The flag at Camp Sandy drooped from the peak. Except by order it never hung halfway. The flag at the agency fluttered no higher than the cross-trees, telling that Death had loved some shining mark and had not sued in vain. Under this symbol of mou... A Change Of Base
Stratton staggered back against the wall and leaned there, panting. All his strength had gone out in that last terrific blow, and for a space he seemed incapable of movement. At length, conscious of a warm, moist trickle on his chin, he raised one... A Clean Up
A slight accident occurred at the jail, one so unimportant that Scanlan the jailer did not think it worth reporting to his chief. Blackwell, while eating, knocked a glass from the table and broke it on the cement floor of his cell. There is a lege... A Clean White Man's Option
The light of a lantern coming down the steps blinded them for a moment. Behind the lantern peered the yellow face of the turnkey. "Ho, there, Americano! They want you up above," the man said. "The generals, and the colonels, and the captains want a ... A Compromise
Luck lay stretched full length on a bunk, his face, to the roof, a wreath of smoke from his cigar traveling slowly toward the ceiling into a filmy blue cloud which hung above him. He looked the personification of vigorous full-blooded manhood at e... A Concert In The Moonlight
Night fell on San Leon; and the searching party which had gone out in the morning, sure of prompt success, returned tired and dispirited. But their places were immediately taken by fresh recruits, Mr. Ford announcing that the matter would not be d... A Conspiracy
Tucked away in an obscure corner of the same issue of the papers which announced the resignation of Lyndon Hobart as manager of the Consolidated properties, and the appointment of James K. Mott as his temporary successor, were little one-stick parag... A Conversation
Not five minutes after Melissy had left the deputy sheriff, another rider galloped up the road. Jack, returning from his room, where he had left the box of gold locked up, waited on the porch to see who this might be. The horseman proved to be t... A Conversation
Bucky O'Connor and his prisoner swung down the street side by side and turned in at the headquarters of the rangers. The officer switched on the light, shut the door, and indicated a chair. From his desk he drew a box of cigars. He struck a match ... A Convert Of The Mission
The largest tent of the Tasajara camp meeting was crowded to its utmost extent. The excitement of that dense mass was at its highest pitch. The Reverend Stephen Masterton, the single erect, passionate figure of that confused medley of kneeling wor... A Corner In Horses
It was dark night. The stay-herd bellowed frantically from one of the big corrals; the cow-and-calf-herd from a second. Already the remuda, driven in from the open plains, scattered about the thousand acres of pasture. Away from the conveniences ... A Crossed Trail
The tenderfoot rose from the ledge upon which he had been lying and stretched himself stiffly. The chill of the long night had set him shivering. His bones ached from the pressure of his body upon the rock where he had slept and waked and dozed ag... A Crusader And A Sign
It was the 4th of August, 1854, off Cape Corrientes. Morning was breaking over a heavy sea, and the closely-reefed topsails of a barque that ran before it bearing down upon the faint outline of the Mexican coast. Already the white peak of Colima s... A Cup Of Cold Water
The pursuers caught up with the Utes the third day out from Bear Cat. It was in the morning, shortly after they had broken camp, that Houck and Big Bill while scouting in advance of the troop jumped up an Indian out of the sagebrush. He made ac... A Dastard's Blow
At about the time when Rexhill was freeing Moran from his bonds, Wade and Santry, with rifles slung across their backs were tramping the banks of Piah Creek. In the rocky canyon, which they finally reached, the placid little stream narrowed into a... A Day's Pleasure
"Mainly it is long and weariful, and has a home o' toil at one end and a dull little town at the other." WHEN Markham came in from shoveling his last wagon-load of corn into the crib, he found that his wife had put the children to bed, and was kn... A Dead Man Walks
Harlan had paid strict attention to Lane Morgan's words at Sentinel Rock, and he remembered that Morgan had told him that his son, whom he had called "Bill," had left the Rancho Seco on some mission for the governor. Evidently it had not occurred ... A Desert Meeting
An automobile shot out from a gash in the hills and slipped swiftly down to the butte. Here it came to a halt on the white, dusty road, while its occupant gazed with eager, unsated eyes on the great panorama that stretched before her. The earth roll... A Desert Rider
From out of the shimmering haze that veiled the mystic eastern space came a big black horse bearing a rider. Swinging wide, to avoid the feathery dust that lay at the base of a huge sand dune, the black horse loped, making no sound, and seeming to... A Dinner For Three
"I thought we bumped you off down at Epitaph," Leroy said. "Along with Scott? Well, no. You see, I'm a regular cat to kill, Mr. Leroy, and I couldn't conscientiously join the angels with so lame a story as a game laig to explain my coming," said C... A Dual Tragedy
Harlan and Morgan had made a thorough search of Haydon's desk in the latter's office in the ranchhouse, and they had found letters addressed to Haydon--received at various towns in the vicinity and proving Morgan's charges against him. And upon se... A Family Reunion
The hospitality of a trail wagon was aptly expressed in the invitation to enjoy ourselves. Some one had exercised good judgment in selecting a camp, for every convenience was at hand, including running water and ample shade from a clump of cottonwoo... A Fight With A Fury
The noonday sun was staring hotly down, an hour later, on a stirring picture of frontier warfare, with that clump of cottonwoods as the central feature. Well for Ray's half hundred, that brilliant autumn morning, that their leader had had so many ... A Find In The Sands
The late afternoon of an eventful day had come to camp Sandy--just such another day, from a meteorological viewpoint, as that on which this story opened nearly twenty-four hours earlier by the shadows on the eastward cliffs. At Tuesday's sunset th... A Friend In Need
Stevenson, having started the fire for breakfast, took a pail and departed towards the spring; but he got no farther than the corral gate, where he dropped the pail and stared. There was only one horse in the enclosure where the night before there h... A Game Of Poker
A whitened human skull, fastened to a post by a rusty tenpenny nail, served as a signboard and notified the passing traveler that he was about to enter the limits of Skull, New Mexico. "Oh, we're ridin' 'way from Texas, and the Rio, Comin' ... A Gathering Of Oak Hall Boys
"Well, they are gone, that's certain!" "Yes, and there is no telling where they went to." "Must have slipped out by a back way." "They sure are a slick pair." It was some time later, and Dave and the other boys stood on the broad piazza ... A Gentleman Of The Range
When Madeline Hammond stepped from the train at El Cajon, New Mexico, it was nearly midnight, and her first impression was of a huge dark space of cool, windy emptiness, strange and silent, stretching away under great blinking white stars. "Miss,... A Gift And A Purchase
For a week the scene of the round-up lay within riding-distance of the ranch-house, and Madeline passed most of this time in the saddle, watching the strenuous labors of the vaqueros and cowboys. She overestimated her strength, and more than once ha... A Girl Waits
Lamo, sprawling on a sun-baked plain perhaps a mile from the edge of the desert, was one of those towns which owed its existence to the instinct of men to foregather. It also was indebted for its existence to the greed of a certain swarthy-faced s... A Gleam Of Sunshine
While these various passions had been kindled by her compatriots in the peaceful ashes of Todos Santos, Eleanor Keene had moved among them indifferently and, at times, unconsciously. The stranding of her young life on that unknown shore had not dr... A Good Samaritan
Fendrick had told the exact truth. After leaving him Kate had ridden forward to the canyon and entered it. She did not mean to go much farther, but she took her time. More than once she slipped from under a fold of her waist a letter and reread se... A Good Samaritan
Yesler, still moving slowly with a walking stick by reason of his green wound, left the street-car and made his way up Forest Road to the house which bore the number 792. In the remote past there had been some spasmodic attempt to cultivate grass an... A Grave Discovery
Only an hour was the major away from his post. He came back in time for guard mounting and the reports of the officers-of-the-day. He had reason to be on the parade at the "assembly of the details," not so much to watch the work of the post adjuta... A Handsome Cowboy To The Rescue
Beatrice took immediate possession of the front seat, that she might comfort her heartbroken young nephew. "Never mind, honey. They'll bring the horses back in a minute, and we'll make them run every step. And when you get to Uncle Dick's ranch ... A Hero Is Embarrassed
Following the Ute War, as it came to be called, there was a period of readjustment on the Rio Blanco. The whites had driven off the horses and the stock of the Indians. Two half-grown boys appropriated a flock of several thousand sheep belonging t... A Highgrader In Principle
In spite of the warm defense she had made of Kilmeny, the heart of Moya was troubled. She knew him to be reckless. The boundaries of ethical conduct were not the same for him as for Lord Farquhar, for instance. He had told her as much in those sum... A Horseman Of The Hills
Patty Sinclair reined in her horse at the top of a low divide and gazed helplessly around her. The trail that had grown fainter and fainter with its ascent of the creek bed disappeared entirely at the slope of loose rock and bunch grass that slant... A Journey And A Dark Man
Alaire's preparations for the journey to La Feria were made with little delay. Owing to the condition of affairs across the border, Ellsworth had thought it well to provide her with letters from the most influential Mexicans in the neighborhood; w... A Judicial Puppet
Bowling along over the new tracks toward Manti in a special car secured at Dry Bottom by Corrigan, one compartment of which was packed closely with books, papers, ledger records, legal documents, blanks, and even office furniture, Judge Lindman wa... A Kinsman Of Red Cloud
I It was thirty minutes before a June sundown at the post, and the first call had sounded for parade. Over in the barracks the two companies and the single troop lounged a moment longer, then laid their police literature down, and lifted their ... A Leading Lady They Would Make Of Jean
Sometimes events follow docilely the plans that would lead them out of the future of possibilities and into the present of actualities, and sometimes they bring with them other events which no man may foresee unless he is indeed a prophet. You woul... A Letter With A Moral
The letter which the Virginian wrote to Molly Wood was, as has been stated, the first that he had ever addressed to her. I think, perhaps, he may have been a little shy as to his skill in the epistolary art, a little anxious lest any sustained pro... A Little Brother Of The Cows
Crosswater Gap, so named because the high pass over which the railroad finds its way is anything but a gap, and, save when the winter snows are melting, there is no water within a day's march, was in sight from the loopings of the eastern approach... A Little Enlightenment
Sometime in the night Jean awoke to hear footsteps in the corridor outside her room. She sat up with a start, and her right hand went groping for her gun. Just for the moment she thought that she was in her room at the Lazy A, and that the night-p... A Little Lunch At Aphonse's
It chanced that Ridgway, through the swinging door of a department store, caught a glimpse of Miss Balfour as he was striding along the street. He bethought him that it was the hour of luncheon, and that she was no end better company than the revamp... A Little Target-practice
A grimy buck with no hat of any sort and with his hair straggling unbraided over one side of his face to conceal a tumor which grew just over his left eye like a large, ripe plum, stood outside the gate, in doubt whether to enter or remain where he ... A Lonely Ride
As I stepped into the Slumgullion stage I saw that it was a dark night, a lonely road, and that I was the only passenger. Let me assure the reader that I have no ulterior design in making this assertion. A long course of light reading has forewarn... A Man Errs And Pays
For a time Trevison stood on the gallery, watching the woman as she faded into the darkness toward Manti, and then he laughed mirthlessly and went into the house, emerging with a rifle and saddle. A few minutes later he rode Nigger out of the corr... A Man's Reputation
Purgatory moved fast, but warily. The black horse seemed to have caught something of his rider's caution. For part of the distance toward the rock the animal traveled straight, loping rapidly, but as he neared the little stretch of broken country ... A Man-sized Job For Jean
Jean was just returning wet-lashed from burying the little brown bird under a wild-rose bush near the creek. She had known all along that it would die; everything that she took any interest in turned out badly, it seemed to her. The wonder was tha... A Maple Sugar Camp In The Wilderness
Selecting a stout limb for his purpose, Ree set to work to cut and trim it, making a short, heavy club. He believed that if he should jump suddenly down among the wolves, their surprise would be so great as to keep them away for perhaps a second--... A Martinet Of The Rockies
San Leon ranch was a large one. The dwelling house and many outbuildings were upon a rich plateau topping a spur from the great mountain beyond. On one side, the land sloped to the valley of the Mismit, utilized for the sheep farming; and across t... A Matter Of Millinery
It was three o'clock of a fine, clear, golden afternoon as they said good-by to McFarlane and started eastward, as if for a little drive. Berrie held the reins in spite of Wayland's protestations. "These bronchos are only about half busted," she s... A Matter Of Taste
"What are you writin' so hard for, Mr. Gael?" Joan voiced the question wistfully on the height of a long breath. She drew it from a silence which seemed to her to have filled this strange, gay house for an eternity. For the first time full awarene...