Big Reuben's Raid
: The Boys Of Crawford's Basin"Wake up, boys! Wake up! Tumble out, there! Quick! Big Reuben's into the
pig-pen again!"
Our bedroom door was banged wide open, and my father stood before us--a
startling apparition--dressed only in his night-shirt and a pair of
boots, carrying a stable-lantern in one hand and a rifle in the other.
"What is it?" cried Joe, as he bounced out of bed; and, "Where is it?"
cried I, both of us hal
"It's Big Reuben raiding the pig-pen again! Can't you hear 'em
squealing? Come on at once! Bring the eight-bore, Joe; and you, Phil,
get the torch and the revolver. Quick; or he'll kill every hog in the
pen!"
Big Reuben was not a two-legged thief, as one might suppose from his
name. He was a grizzly bear, a notorious old criminal, who, for the past
two or three years, had done much harm to the ranchmen of our
neighborhood, killing calves and colts and pigs--especially pigs.
Like a robber-baron of old, he laid tribute on the whole community,
raiding all the ranches in turn, traveling great distances during the
night, but always retreating to his lair among the rocks before morning.
This had gone on for a long time, when one day, in broad daylight, while
Ole Johnson, the Swede, was plowing his upper potato-patch, the grizzly
jumped down from a ledge of rocks and with one blow of his paw broke the
back of Ole's best work-steer; Ole himself, frightened half to death,
flying for refuge to his stable, where he shut himself up in the
hay-loft for the rest of the day.
This outrage had the effect of waking up the county commissioners, who,
understanding at last that we had been terrorized long enough, now
offered a reward of one hundred dollars for bruin's scalp--an offer
which stimulated all the hunters round about to run the marauder to his
lair.
But Big Reuben was as crafty as he was bold. His home was up in one of
the rocky gorges of Mount Lincoln to the west of us, where it would be
useless to try to trail him; and after Jed Smith had been almost torn to
pieces, and his partner, Baldy Atkins, had spent two nights and a day up
a tree, the enthusiasm of the hunters had suddenly waned and Big
Reuben's closer acquaintance had been shunned by all alike. Thereafter,
the bear had continued his depredations unchecked.
Among his many other pieces of mischief, he had killed a valuable calf
for us once, once before he had raided the pig-pen, and now here he was
again.
Without waiting to put on any extra clothing, Joe and I followed my
father through the kitchen, I grabbing a revolver from its nail in the
wall, and Joe snatching down the great eight-bore duck-gun and slipping
into it two cartridges prepared for this very contingency, each
cartridge containing twelve buck-shot and a big spherical bullet--a
terrific charge for close quarters. Once outside the kitchen-door, I ran
to the wood-shed and seized the torch which, like the cartridges, had
been made ready for this emergency. It consisted of a broom-handle with
a great wad of waste, soaked in kerosene, bound with wire to one end of
it.
Lighting the torch, I held it high and followed two paces behind the
others as they advanced towards the pig-pen. We had not progressed
twenty yards, however--luckily for us, as it turned out--when there
issued through the roof of the pen a great dark body, dimly seen by the
light of the torch.
"There he is!" cried my father, as the bear dropped out of sight behind
the corral fence. "Look out, now! We'll get a shot at him as he runs up
the hill!"
But Big Reuben had no intention whatever of running up the hill; he
feared neither man nor beast, and the next moment he appeared round the
corner of the corral, charging full upon us, open-mouthed.
With a single impulse, we all fired one shot at him and then turned and
fled, helter-skelter, for the kitchen, all tumbling in together,
treading on each others' heels; my father slamming behind us the door,
which fortunately opened outward.
The kitchen was a slight frame structure, built on to the back of the
house as a T-shaped addition. We were barely inside when bang! came a
heavy body against the door, with such force as to send several
milk-pans clashing to the floor.
My father had hastily loaded again, and now, hearing the bear's paws
patting high up on the door, he fired a chance shot through it. The bear
was hit, seemingly, for we heard him grunt; but that he was not killed
by any means was evident, for the next moment, with a clattering crash,
the kitchen window, glass, frame and all, was knocked into the room, and
a great hairy arm and fierce, grinning head were thrust through the gap.
Joe, who was standing just opposite the window, jumped backward, and
catching his heels against the great tub wherein the week's wash was
soaking, he sat down in it with a splash. Seeing this, I sprang forward
and thrust my torch into the bear's face; upon which he dropped to the
ground again. A half-second later, Joe, still sitting in the tub, fired
his second barrel. It was a good shot, but just a trifle too late, and
its only effect was to blow my torch to shreds, leaving us with the dim
light of the lantern only.
"Into the house!" shouted my father; whereupon we all retreated from the
kitchen into the main building. There, while Joe held the door partly
open and I held the lantern so as to throw a light into the kitchen, my
father knelt upon the floor waiting for the bear to give him another
chance. But Big Reuben was much too clever to do anything of the sort;
he was not going to put himself into any such trap as that; and
presently my mother from up-stairs called out that she could see him
going off.
We waited about for half an hour, but as there was no more disturbance
we all went back to bed, where for another half-hour Joe and I lay
talking, unable, naturally, to go to sleep at once after such a lively
stirring-up.
By sunrise next morning we were all out to see what damage had been
done. The bear had torn a great hole in the roof of the pen, had jumped
in and had killed and partly eaten one pig, choosing, as a bear of his
sagacity naturally would, the best one. We were fortunate, though, to
have come off so cheaply; doubtless the light of our torch shining
through the chinks of the logs had disturbed him.
If there had been any question as to the marauder's identity, that was
settled at once. His tracks were plain in the dust, and as one of his
hind feet showed no marks of claws, we knew it was Big Reuben; for Big
Reuben had once been caught in a trap and had only freed himself by
leaving his toe-nails behind him.
Outside the kitchen door and window the tracks were very plain; there
was also a good deal of blood, showing that he had been hit at least
once. But it was evident also that he had not been hurt very seriously,
for there was no irregularity in his trail--no swaying from side to
side, as from weakness--though we followed it up to the point where, at
the upper end of our valley, the bear had climbed the cliff which
bounded the Second Mesa. Though on this occasion he had thought fit to
run away, there was little doubt but that he would live to fight another
day.
"Father," said I, as we sat together at breakfast, "may Joe and I go and
trail him up? If he keeps on bleeding it ought to be easy, and it is
just possible that we might find him dead."
My father at first shook his head, but presently, reconsidering, he
replied: "Well, you may go; but you must go on your ponies: it's too
dangerous to go a-foot. And in any case, if the trail leads you up to
the loose rocks or into the big timber you must stop. You know what a
tricky beast Big Reuben is. If he sees that he is followed he will lie
in hiding and jump out on you. That's how he caught Jed Smith, you
remember."
"We'll take care, father," said I. "We'll stick to our ponies, and then
we shall be all safe."
"Very well, then; be off with you."
With this permission we set off, I carrying a rifle and Joe his "old
cannon," as he called the big shotgun; each with a crust of bread and a
slice or two of bacon in his pocket by way of lunch. Picking up the
trail where we had left it at the foot of the Second Mesa, we scrambled
up the little cliff, looking out very sharply lest Big Reuben should be
lying in wait for us in some crevice, and finding that the tracks led
straight away for Mount Lincoln, we followed them, I doing the tracking
while Joe kept watch ahead. The surface of the Second Mesa was very
uneven: there were many little rocky hills and many small canyons, some
of the latter as much as a hundred feet deep, so, keeping in mind the
bear's crafty nature, whenever the trail led us near any of these
obstacles I would stand still while Joe examined the canyon or the rocks,
as the case might be.
Every time we did this, however, we drew a blank. The trail continued to
lead straight away for the mountain without diverging to one side or the
other, and for five or six miles we followed it until the stunted cedars
began to give place to pine trees, when we decided that we might as well
stop, especially as for some time past there had ceased to be any
blood-marks on the stones and we had been following only the occasional
imprint of the bear's paws in the patches of sand.
"The trail is headed straight for that rocky gorge, Phil," said my
companion, pointing forward, "and it's no use going on. Even if your
father hadn't forbidden it, I wouldn't go into that gorge, knowing that
Big Reuben was in there somewhere, not if the county commissioners
should offer me the whole county as a reward."
"Nor I, either," said I. "Big Reuben may have his mountain all to
himself as far as I'm concerned. So, come on; let's get back. What time
is it?"
"After noon," replied Joe, looking up at the sun. "We've been a long
time coming, but it won't take us more than half the time going back.
Let's dig out at once."
Turning our ponies, we set off at an easy lope, and had ridden about two
miles on the back track when, skirting along the edge of one of the
little canyons I have mentioned, we noticed a tiny spring of water,
which, issuing from the face of the cliff close to the top, fell in a
thin thread into the chasm.
"Joe," said I, "let's stop here and eat our lunch. I'm getting pretty
hungry."
"All right," said Joe; and in another minute we were seated on the edge
of the cliff with our feet dangling in space, munching our bread and
bacon, while the ponies, with the reins hanging loose, were cropping the
scanty grass just behind us.
About five feet below where we sat was a little ledge some eighteen
inches wide, which, on our left, gradually sloped upward until it came
to the top, while in the other direction it sloped downward, diminishing
in width until it "petered out" entirely. The little spring fell upon
this ledge, and running along it, fell off again at its lower end. As
the best place to fill our tin cup was where the water struck the ledge,
we, when we had finished our lunch, walked down to that point.
Filling the cup, I was in the act of handing it to Joe, who was behind
me, when a sudden clatter of hoofs caused us to straighten up. Our eyes
came just above the level of the cliff, and the first thing they
encountered was Big Reuben himself, not ten feet away, coming straight
for us at a run!
"Duck!" yelled Joe; and down we went--only just in time, too, for the
bear's great claws rattled on the surface of the rock as he made a slap
at us.
Where had he come from? Had he followed us back from the mountain?
Hardly: we had come too quickly. Had he seen us coming in the early
morning, and, making a circuit out of our sight, lain in wait for us as
we returned? Such uncanny cleverness seemed hardly possible, even for
Big Reuben, clever as he was known to be.
These questions, however, did not occur to us at the moment. All that
concerned us just then was that there was Big Reuben, looking down at us
from the edge of the cliff.
There was no doubt that it was the same bear we had interviewed in the
night, for all the hair on one side of his face was singed off where I
had thrust at him with the torch, while one of his ears was tattered and
bloody, showing that some of Joe's buck-shot, at least, had got him as
he dropped from the window.
Joe and I were on our hands and knees, when the bear, going down upon
his chest, reached for us with one of his paws. He could not quite touch
us, but he came so uncomfortably close that we crept away down the
ledge, which, dipping pretty sharply, soon put us out of his reach
altogether.
Seeing this, the bear rose to his feet again, gazed at us for a moment,
and then stepped back out of sight.
"Has he gone?" I whispered; but before Joe could answer Big Reuben
appeared again, walking down the ledge towards us. Of course we sidled
away from him, until the ledge had become so narrow that I could go no
farther; and lucky it was for us that the ledge was narrow, for what
was standing-room for us was by no means standing-room for the bear: his
body was much too thick to allow him to come near us, or even to
approach the spot whence we had just retreated.
As it was obvious that the bear could advance no farther, for he was
standing on the very edge of the ledge and there was a bulge in the rock
before him which would inevitably have pushed him off into the chasm had
he attempted to pass it, Joe and I returned to the spring, where we had
room to stand or to sit down as we wished.
The enemy watched our approach, with a glint of malice in his little
piggy eyes, but when he saw that we intended to come no nearer, he lay
down where he was and began unconcernedly licking his paws.
"He thinks he can starve us out," said Joe; "but if I'm not mistaken we
can stand it longer than he can, even if he did eat half a pig last
night. And there's one thing certain, Phil: if we don't get home
to-night, somebody will come to look for us in the morning."
"Yes," I assented. "But they'll get a pretty bad scare at home if we
don't turn up. Is there no way of sending that beast off? If we could
only get hold of one of the guns----"
By standing upright we could see my rifle lying on the ground and Joe's
big gun standing with its muzzle pointed skyward, leaning against a
boulder. They were only six feet away, but six feet were six feet: we
could not reach them without climbing up, and that was out of the
question--the bear could get there much more quickly than we could.
"Phil!" exclaimed my companion, suddenly. "Have you got any twine in
your pocket?"
"Yes," I replied, pulling out a long, stout piece of string. "Why?"
"Perhaps we can 'rope' my gun. See, its muzzle stands clear. Then we
could drag it within reach."
I very soon had a noose made, and being the more expert roper of the two
I swung it round and round my head, keeping the loop wide open, and
threw it. My very first cast was successful. The noose fell over the
muzzle of the gun and settled half way down the barrel, where it was
stopped by the rock.
"Good!" whispered Joe. "Now, tighten it up gently and pull the gun
over."
I followed these directions, and presently we heard the gun fall with a
clatter upon the rocks; for, fearing it might go off when it fell, we
had both ducked below the rim of the wall.
Our actions had made the bear suspicious, and when the gun came
clattering down he rose upon his hind feet and looked about him. Seeing
nothing moving, however, he came down again, when I at once began to
pull the gun gently towards me, keeping my head down all the time lest
one of the hammers, catching against a rock, should explode the charge.
At length, thinking it should be near enough, I ceased pulling, when Joe
straightened up, reached out, and, to my great delight, when he withdrew
his hand the gun was in it.
Ah! What a difference it made in our situation!
Joe, first opening the breach to make sure the gun was loaded, advanced
as near the bear as he dared, and kneeling down took careful aim at his
chest. But presently he lowered the gun again, and turning to me, said:
"Phil, can you do anything to make him turn his head so that I can get a
chance at him behind the ear? I'm afraid a shot in front may only wound
him."
"All right," said I. "I'll try."
With my knife I pried out of the face of the cliff a piece of stone
about the size and shape of the palm of my hand, and aiming carefully I
threw it at the bear. It struck him on the very point of his nose--a
tender spot--and seemingly hurt him a good deal, for, with an angry
snarl, he rose upright on his hind feet.
At that instant a terrific report resounded up and down the canyon, the
whole charge of Joe's ponderous weapon struck the bear full in the
chest--I could see the hole it made--and without a sound the great beast
dropped from the ledge, fell a hundred feet upon the rocks below,
bounded two or three times and then lay still, all doubled up in a heap
at the bottom.
Big Reuben had killed his last pig!
More
-
At The Round Up Club
A big game had been in progress all night at the Round Up Club. Now the garish light of day streamed through the windows, but the electric cluster still flung down its yellow glare upon the table. Behind the players were other smaller tables litte... At The Watts Ranch
It was with a decided feeling of depression that Patty Sinclair approached the Watts ranch. Long before she reached the buildings an air of shiftless dilapidation was manifest in the ill-lined barbed wire fences whose rotting posts sagged drunkenl... Aunt Janet Braved
Nightfall of a weary day had come. Camp Sandy, startled from sleep in the dark hour before the dawn, had found topic for much exciting talk, and was getting tired as the twilight waned. No word had come from the party sent in search of Downs, now ... Back From Arcadia
The president of the Mesa Ore-producing Company stepped from the parlor-car of the Limited at the hour when all wise people are taking life easy after a good dinner. He did not, however, drive to his club, but took a cab straight for his rooms, wher... Back From The Dead
Westward the little three-car train chugged its way fussily across the brown prairie toward distant mountains which, in that clear atmosphere, loomed so deceptively near. Standing motionless beside the weather-beaten station shed, the solitary pas... Back To God's Country
To minimize the risk, Megales and Carlo left the prison by the secret passage, following the fork to the river bank and digging at the piled-up sand till they had forced an exit. O'Halloran met them here with horses, and the three men followed the r... Back To Holston
Soon we were out of the forest, and riding across the sage-flat with Holston in sight. Both of us avoided the unpleasant subject of my enforced home-going. Evidently Dick felt cut up about it, and it caused me such a pang that I drove it from my min... Bad Medicine
The house at the horse ranch was a long, low L-shaped adobe structure. The first impression Curly received was that of negligence. In places the roof sagged. A door in the rear hung from one hinge. More than one broken pane of glass was stuffed wi... Bad News
Andy Green, that honest-eyed young man whom everyone loved, but whom not a man believed save when he was indulging his love for more or less fantastic flights of the imagination, pulled up on the brow of Flying U coulee and stared somberly at the pi... Bad News
News of the Killing at Alder, as they call that night's slaughter to this day in the mountain-desert, traveled swiftly, and lost nothing of bulk and burden on the way; so that two days later, when Lee Haines went down for mail to the wretched little... Bad News From The Front
It might well be imagined that a man returning from such a morning's work as had been Blake's could be excused from duty the rest of the day. He and his little party had had a spirited running fight of several hours with an evasive and most exaspe... Baffled But Still Dangerous
When Trowbridge left Dorothy Purnell, promising to find his friend for her sake, he had assumed a confidence that he was far from feeling. No man knew the country thereabout any better than he did, and he realized that there was, at best, only a m... Balaam And Pedro
Resigned to wait for the Judge's horses, Balaam went into his office this dry, bright morning and read nine accumulated newspapers; for he was behindhand. Then he rode out on the ditches, and met his man returning with the troublesome animals at l... Bandits
When Madeline and her party recovered composure they sat up to watch the finish of the match. It came with spectacular suddenness. A sharp yell pealed out, and all the cowboys turned attentively in its direction. A big black horse had surmounted the... Banishing A Shadow
Randerson could not adjust his principles to his purpose to do Masten to death while working for Ruth, and so, in the morning following his meeting with the Easterner on the trail leading to Chavis' shack, he announced to the men of the outfit tha... Bank Closed
TO MY CREDITORS AND DEPOSITORS Through a combination of events I find myself obliged to temporarily suspend payment. I ask the depositors to be patient, and their claims will be met. I think I can pay twenty-five cents on the dollar, if given a l... Barb Wire
After the flurry at Perry's Bend the Bar-20 settled down to the calm routine work and sent several drive herds to their destination without any unusual incidents. Buck thought that the last herd had been driven when, late in the summer, he received ... Barbara Is Puzzled
Half an hour later, with Barbara Morgan, on "Billy"--a piebald pinto--riding beside him, Harlan loped Purgatory out of Lamo. They took a trail--faint and narrow--that led southward, for Barbara had said that the Rancho Seco lay in that direction. ... Barbara Sees A Light
When Barbara regained consciousness it was with a gasp of horror over the realization of what had happened. She stiffened immediately, however, and lay, straining at the dread paralysis that had gripped her; for she saw Harlan standing at her side... Barker's Luck
A bird twittered! The morning sun shining through the open window was apparently more potent than the cool mountain air, which had only caused the sleeper to curl a little more tightly in his blankets. Barker's eyes opened instantly upon the light... Battle
On the road he passed Miss Brewster--for the Alder school boasted two teachers!--and under her kindly, rather faded smile he felt a great desire to stop and take her into his confidence; ask her what Betty Neal had been doing all these months. Inste... Battle On The Mesa
"Oh, the cowboy sings so mournful on the Rio! To the dark night herd, so mournful and so sad, And I'd like to be in the moonlight on the Rio, Wheah good men are good, and bad men are bad!" Kid Wolf sang the tune softly to the whispe... Bear Cat Asks Questions
A man bow-legged into Gillespie's and went straight to the bar. "Gimme a drink--something damned hot," he growled. He was a big, broad-shouldered fellow, hook-nosed, with cold eyes set close. Hair and eyebrows were matted with ice and a coat of ... Bear Cat Asleep
Bear Cat basked in the mellow warmth of Indian summer. Peace brooded over the valley, a slumberous and placid drowsiness. Outside Platt & Fortner's store big freight wagons stood close to the sidewalk. They had just come in from their long overlan... Bear Cat Awake
At exactly eleven o'clock Houck, Bandy Walker, and the big young cowpuncher who had ridden into town with them met at the corner of one of the freight wagons. Houck talked, the others listened, except for a comment or two. A cattleman passing them... Bears
The old hunter walked so swiftly that I had to run to keep up with him. The trail led up the creek, now on one side, again on the other, and I was constantly skipping from stone to stone. The grassy slopes grew fewer, and finally gave way altogether... Beating A Good Man
Trevison had not moved. He had watched the movements of the other closely, noting his huge bulk, his lithe motions, the play of his muscles as he backed across the room to dispose of the pistol. At Corrigan's words though, Trevison's eyes glowed w... Beatrice Learns A New Language
"D'you want to see the boys work a bunch of cattle, Trix?" Dick said to her, when she came down to where he was leaning against a high board fence, waiting for her. "'Deed I do, Dicky--only I've no idea what you mean." "The boys are going to ... Beatrice's Wild Ride
"Well, are we all ready?" Dick gathered up his reins, and took critical inventory of the load. His mother peered under the front seat to be doubly sure that there were at least four umbrellas and her waterproof raglan in the rig; Mrs. Lansell did ... Before He Grew Up
The little white "digger," galloping with the stiff, short-legged jumps of the broken-down cow pony, stopped short as the boy riding him pulled sharply on the reins, and after looking hard at something which lay in a bare spot in the grass, slid f... Behind The Bars
In the whirl and excitement following the startling outcry from the flats, all Fort Frayne was speedily involved. The guard came rushing through the night, Corporal Shannon stumbling over a prostrate form,--the sentry on Number Six, gagged and bou... Ben Swann
Since the night when old Joe Cumberland died and Kate Cumberland rode off after her wild man, Ben Swann, the foreman of the Cumberland ranch, had lived in the big house. He would have been vastly more comfortable in the bunkhouse playing cards with ... Benson's Bridge-timbers
It was on the morning following the startling episode at the Dawsons' gate that Benson, lately arrived from the west on train 204, came into the superintendent's office with the light of discovery in his eye. But the discovery, if any there were, ... Berrie's Vigil
The situation in which Berea now found herself would have disheartened most women of mature age, but she remained not only composed, she was filled with an irrational delight. The nurse that is in every woman was aroused in her, and she looked for... Besieged
Deep down in a ragged cleft of the desert, with shelving rock and giant bowlder on every side, without a sign of leaf, or sprig of grass, or tendril of tiny creeping plant, a little party of haggard, hunted men lay in hiding and in the silence of ... Between The Acts
My road to Sunk Creek lay in no straight line. By rail I diverged northwest to Fort Meade, and thence, after some stay with the kind military people, I made my way on a horse. Up here in the Black Hills it sluiced rain most intolerably. The horse ... Big Reuben's Raid
"Wake up, boys! Wake up! Tumble out, there! Quick! Big Reuben's into the pig-pen again!" Our bedroom door was banged wide open, and my father stood before us--a startling apparition--dressed only in his night-shirt and a pair of boots, carrying... Big-game Hunters At Work
Bob and his partner did not rush out of the hotel instantly to get into the fray. They did what a score of other able-bodied men of Bear Cat were doing--went in search of adequate weapons with which to oppose the bank robbers. Bear Cat was probabl... Billy The Clerk
If Sheriff Pete Glass had been the typical hard-riding, sure-shooting officer of the law as it is seen in the mountain-desert, his work would have died with his death, but Glass had a mind as active as his hands, and therefore, for at least a little... Bitter Root Billings Arbiter
Billings rode in from the Junction about dusk, and ate his supper in silence. He'd been East for sixty days, and, although there lurked about him the hint of unwonted ventures, etiquette forbade its mention. You see, in our country, that which a m... Bitter-sweet
Taking his cue from certain passages in the book of painful memories, Lidgerwood meant to obey his first impulse, which prompted him to follow Mr. Brewster to the private office state-room in the forward end of the car, disregarding the couple in ... Black Macqueen Cashes His Checks
It was part of his supreme audacity to trust her. While he was changing his dusty, travel-stained clothes for some that belonged to her brother she prepared a meal for him downstairs. A dozen times the impulse was on her to fly into the street and... Black Sage And Juniper
AUGUST NAAB appeared on the path leading from his fields. "Mescal, here you are," he greeted. "How about the sheep?" "Piute's driving them down to the lower range. There are a thousand coyotes hanging about the flock." "That's bad," rejoine... Black Star And Night
The time had come for Venters and Bess to leave their retreat. They were at great pains to choose the few things they would be able to carry with them on the journey out of Utah. "Bern, whatever kind of a pack's this, anyhow?" question... Blackleg
More than once during the next ten minutes Buck cursed himself inwardly for not having brought along the small but powerful pair of field-glasses that were tucked away in his bag. He had picked them up at the Divisional Headquarters only a week or... Blaze Jones's Nemesis
Blaze Jones rode up to his front gate and dismounted in the shade of the big ebony-tree. He stepped back and ran an approving eye over another animal tethered there. It was a thoroughbred bay mare he had never seen, and as he scanned her good poin... Blind Signals
Lidgerwood was not making the conventional excuse when he gave the deskful of work as a reason for not accepting the invitation to dine with the president's party in the Nadia. Being the practical as well as the nominal head of the Red Butte line,... Blister As Deus Ex Machina
Blister Haines found an old pair of chaps for Bob Dillon and lent him a buckskin bronco. Also, he wrote a note addressed to Harshaw, of the Slash Lazy D, and gave it to the boy. "He'll put you to ridin', Ed will. The rest's up to you. D-don't yo... Blister Gives Advice
Blister Haines, J. P., was by way of being a character. His waggish viewpoint was emphasized by a slight stutter. "S-so you want to h-hitch up to double trouble, do you?" he asked. "We want to get married," Bob said. "S-same thing," the fat... Blizzard's Charge
Kid Wolf was so dazed for a time that he but dimly realized what was happening to him. Half stunned, he was carried, along with Dave Robbins, out of the arroyo. He was light-headed from the blows he had received. That torture was in store for t... Blood Will Tell
As Webb had predicted, even before nine o'clock, came prompt, spirited response from Laramie, where the colonel had ordered the four troops to prepare for instant march, and had bidden the infantry to be ready for any duty the general might order.... Bob Crawls His Hump Sudden
There was a game of stud after supper in the bunkhouse. Bob lay on his bed, a prey to wretched dread. He had made up his mind to have it out with Bandy, but his heart was pumping water instead of blood. When he looked at the squat puncher, thick-n... Bob Holds His Red Haid High
At the corner of the street Bob came upon Tom Reeves and an old Leadville miner in argument. Tom made the high sign to Dillon. "What's all the rumpus about?" he wanted to know. "Jake Houck was seen crossin' the park. He got into the sage." ... Bob Takes A Hand
Fendrick, riding on Mesa Verde, met Bob Cullison, and before he knew what had happened found a gun thrown on him. "Don't you move," the boy warned. "What does this tommyrot mean?" the sheepman demanded angrily. "It means that you are coming... Bonita
Florence's story of the lost mine fired Madeline's guests with the fever for gold-hunting. But after they had tried it a few times and the glamour of the thing wore off they gave up and remained in camp. Having exhausted all the resources of the mou... Brand Blotting
The tenderfoot, slithering down a hillside of shale, caught at a greasewood bush and waited. The sound of a rifle shot had drifted across the ridge to him. Friend or foe, it made no difference to him now. He had reached the end of his tether, must... Breaks One And Makes Another Engagement
Miss Balfour's glass made her irritably aware of cheeks unduly flushed and eyes unusually bright. Since she prided herself on being sufficient for the emergencies of life, she cast about in her mind to determine which of the interviews that lay befo... Brown Of Calaveras
A subdued tone of conversation, and the absence of cigar smoke and boot heels at the windows of the Wingdam stagecoach, made it evident that one of the inside passengers was a woman. A disposition on the part of loungers at the stations to congreg... Buck Finds Out Something
When the fact is chronicled that no less than three times in the succeeding eight days Buck Stratton was strongly tempted to put an end to the whole puzzling business by the simple expedient of declaring his identity and taking possession of the S... Buck Rides
Presently Mrs. Archer released her spasmodic grip on Stratton's flannel shirt and fumbled for her handkerchief. "I'm a fool to--to waste time like this," she faltered, dabbing her eyes with the crumpled square of cambric. "I think you're rath... Buck Takes A Hand
Cowan's saloon, club, and place of general assembly for the town of Buckskin and the nearby ranches, held a merry crowd, for it was pay-day on the range and laughter and liquor ran a close race. Buck Peters, his hands full of cigars, passed through ... Buckskin
The town lay sprawled over half a square mile of alkali plain, its main Street depressing in its width, for those who were responsible for its inception had worked with a generosity born of the knowledge that they had at their immediate and unchalle... Bucky Entertains
Bucky began at once to tap the underground wires his official position made accessible to him. These ran over Southern Arizona, Sonora, and Chihuahua. All the places to which criminals or frontiersmen with money were wont to resort were reported upo... Bucky Makes A Discovery
For a week Bucky had been in the little border town of Noches, called there by threats of a race war between the whites and the Mexicans. Having put the quietus on this, he was returning to Epitaph by way of the Huachuca Mountains. There are still p... Bucky's First-rate Reasons
How long Frances Mackenzie gave herself up to despair she never knew, but when at last she resolutely took herself in hand it seemed hours later. "Bucky told me to be brave, he told me not to lose my nerve," she repeated to herself over and over aga... Bud Cannot Perform Miracles
They went on and on, through the rain and the wind, sometimes through the mud as well, where the roads were not paved. Foster had almost pounced upon the newspaper when he discovered it in Bud's pocket as he climbed in, and Bud knew that the two read t... Bud Faces Facts
New Year came and passed and won nothing in the way of celebration from the three in Nelson's cabin. Bud's bones ached, his head ached, the flesh on his body ached. He could take no comfort anywhere, under any circumstances. He craved clean white beds ... Bud Flips A Coin With Fate
"I don't think it matters so much where we light, it's what we do when we get there," said Bud to Smoky, his horse, one day as they stopped where two roads forked at the base of a great, outstanding peak that was but the point of a mountain range. "... Bud Meets The Woman
A woman was stooping at the woodpile, filling her arms with crooked sticks of rough-barked sage. From the color of her hair Bud knew that she was not Honey, and that she was therefore a stranger to him. But he swung off the path and went over to her... Bud Rides Through Catrock And Loses Marian
"You'll have to show me the trail, pardner," said Bud when they were making their way cautiously out of town by way of the tin can suburbs. "I could figure out the direction all right, and make it by morning; but seeing you grew up here, I'll let yo... Bud Takes To The Hills
In a little village which he had glimpsed from the top of a hill Bud went into the cluttered little general store and bought a few blocks of slim, evil smelling matches and a couple of pounds of sliced bacon, a loaf of stale bread, and two small cans o... Buddy Gives Warning
Buddy swung down from his horse, unsaddled it and went staggering to the stable wall with the burden of a stock-saddle much too big for him. He had to stand on his boot-toes to reach and pull the bridle down over the ears of Whitefoot, which turned ...