Exposed To The Sunlight
: 'firebrand' TrevisonIt 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 ranchhouse, under Agatha's chaperonage, and she had
invited Trevison to visit her whenever the mood struck him. He had been in
the mood many times, but had found no opportunity, for the various
activities of range work claimed his attention. After a critical survey of
Manti and vicinity, J. C. had climbed aboard his private car to be whisked
to New York, where he reported to his Board of Directors that Manti would
one day be one of the greatest commercial centers of the West.
Vague rumors of a legal tangle involving the land around Manti had reached
Trevison's ears, and this morning he had jumped on Nigger, determined to
run the rumors down. He made a wide swing, following the river, which took
him miles from his own property and into the enormous basin which one day
the engineers expected to convert into a mammoth lake from which the
thirst of many dry acres of land was to be slaked; and halting Nigger near
the mouth of the gorge, watched the many laborers, directed by various
grades of bosses, at work building the foundation of the dam. Later, he
crossed the basin, followed the well-beaten trail up the slope to the
level, and shortly he was in Hanrahan's saloon across the street from
Braman's bank, listening to the plaint of Jim Lefingwell, the Circle Cross
owner, whose ranch was east of town. Lefingwell was big, florid, and
afflicted with perturbation that was almost painful. So exercised was he
that he was at times almost incoherent.
"She's boomin', ain't she? Meanin' this man's town, of course. An' a man's
got a right to cash in on a boom whenever he gits the chance. Well, I'd
figgered to cash in. I ain't no hawg an' I got savvy enough to perceive
without the aid of any damn fortune-teller that cattle is done in this
country--considered as the main question. I've got a thousand acres of
land--which I paid for in spot cash to Dick Kessler about eight years ago.
If Dick was here he'd back me up in that. But he ain't here--the doggone
fool went an' died about four years ago, leavin' me unprotected. Well,
now, not digressin' any, I gits the idea that I'm goin' to unload
consid'able of my thousand acres on the sufferin' fools that's yearnin' to
come into this country an' work their heads off raisin' alfalfa an' hawgs,
an' cabbages an' sons with Pick-a-dilly collars to be eddicated East an'
come back home some day an' lift the mortgage from the old
homestead--which job they always falls down on--findin' it more to their
likin' to mortgage their souls to buy jew'l'ry for fast wimmin. Well, not
digressin' any, I run a-foul of a guy last week which was dead set on
investin' in ten acres of my land, skirtin' one of the irrigation ditches
which they're figgerin' on puttin' in. The price I wanted was a heap
satisfyin' to the guy. But he suggests that before he forks over the coin
we go down to the courthouse an' muss up the records to see if my title is
clear. Well, not digressin' any, she ain't! She ain't even nowheres clear
a-tall--she ain't even there! She's wiped off, slick an' clean! There
ain't a damned line to show that I ever bought my land from Dick Kessler,
an' there ain't nothin' on no record to show that Dick Kessler ever owned
it! What in hell do you think of that?
"Now, not digressin' any," he went on as Trevison essayed to speak; "that
ain't the worst of it. While I was in there, talkin' to Judge Lindman,
this here big guy that you fit with--Corrigan--comes in. I gathers from
the trend of his remarks that I never had a legal title to my land--that
it belongs to the guy which bought it from the Midland Company--which is
him. Now what in hell do you think of that?"
"I knew Dick Kessler," said Trevison, soberly. "He was honest."
"Square as a dollar!" violently affirmed Lefingwell.
"It's too bad," sympathized Trevison. "That places you in a mighty bad
fix. If there's anything I can do for you, why--"
"Mr. 'Brand' Trevison?" said a voice at Trevison's elbow. Trevison turned,
to see a short, heavily built man smiling mildly at him.
"I'm a deputy from Judge Lindman's court," announced the man. "I've got a
summons for you. Saw you coming in here--saves me a trip to your place."
He shoved a paper into Trevison's hands, grinned, and went out. For an
instant Trevison stood, looking after the man, wondering how, since the
man was a stranger to him, he had recognized him--and then he opened the
paper to discover that he was ordered to appear before Judge Lindman the
following day to show cause why he should not be evicted from certain
described property held unlawfully by him. The name, Jefferson Corrigan,
appeared as plaintiff in the action.
Lefingwell was watching Trevison's face closely, and when he saw it
whiten, he muttered, understandingly:
"You've got it, too, eh?"
"Yes." Trevison shoved the paper into a pocket. "Looks like you're not
going to be skinned alone, Lefingwell. Well, so-long; I'll see you
later."
He strode out, leaving Lefingwell slightly stunned over his abrupt
leave-taking. A minute later he was in the squatty frame courthouse,
towering above Judge Lindman, who had been seated at his desk and who had
risen at his entrance.
Trevison shoved the summons under Lindman's nose.
"I just got this," he said. "What does it mean?"
"It is perfectly understandable," the Judge smiled with forced affability.
"The plaintiff, Mr. Jefferson Corrigan, is a claimant to the title of the
land now held by you."
"Corrigan can have no claim on my land; I bought it five years ago from
old Buck Peters. He got it from a man named Taylor. Corrigan is
bluffing."
The Judge coughed and dropped his gaze from the belligerent eyes of the
young man. "That will be determined in court," he said. "The entire land
transactions in this county, covering a period of twenty-five years, are
recorded in that book." And the Judge indicated a ledger on his desk.
"I'll take a look at it." Trevison reached for the ledger, seized it, the
Judge protesting, half-heartedly, though with the judicial dignity that
had become habitual from long service in his profession.
"This is a high-handed proceeding, young man. You are in contempt of
court!" The Judge tried, but could not make his voice ring sincerely. It
seemed to him that this vigorous, clear-eyed young man could see the guilt
that he was trying to hide.
Trevison laughed grimly, holding the Judge off with one hand while he
searched the pages of the book, leaning over the desk. He presently closed
the book with a bang and faced the Judge, breathing heavily, his muscles
rigid, his eyes cold and glittering.
"There's trickery here!" He took the ledger up and slammed it down on the
desk again, his voice vibrating. "Judge Lindman, this isn't a true
record--it is not the original record! I saw the original record five
years ago, when I went personally to Dry Bottom with Buck Peters to have
my deed recorded! This record is a fake--it has been substituted for the
original! I demand that you stay proceedings in this matter until a search
can be made for the original record!"
"This is the original record." Again the Judge tried to make his voice
ring sincerely, and again he failed. His one mistake had not hardened him
and judicial dignity could not help him to conceal his guilty knowledge.
He winced as he felt Trevison's burning gaze on him, and could not meet
the young man's eyes, boring like metal points into his consciousness.
Trevison sprang forward and seized him by the shoulders.
"By God--you know it isn't the original!"
The Judge succeeded in meeting Trevison's eyes, but his age, his
vacillating will, his guilt, could not combat the overpowering force and
virility of this volcanic youth, and his gaze shifted and fell.
He heard Trevison catch his breath--shrilling it into his lungs in one
great sob--and then he stood, white and shaking, beside the desk, looking
at Trevison as the young man went out of the door--a laugh on his lips,
mirthless, bitter, portending trouble and violence.
* * * * *
Corrigan was sitting at his desk in the bank building when Trevison
entered the front door. The big man seemed to have been expecting his
visitor, for just before the latter appeared at the door Corrigan took a
pistol from a pocket and laid it on the desk beside him, placing a sheet
of paper over it. He swung slowly around and faced Trevison, cold interest
in his gaze. He nodded shortly as Trevison's eyes met his.
In a dozen long strides Trevison was at his side. The young man was pale,
his lips were set, he was breathing fast, his nostrils were dilated--he
was at that pitch of excitement in which a word, a look or a movement
brings on action, instantaneous, unrecking of consequences. But he
exercised repression that made the atmosphere of the room tingle with
tension of the sort that precedes the clash of mighty forces--he
deliberately sat on one corner of Corrigan's desk, one leg dangling, the
other resting on the floor, one hand resting on the idle leg, his body
bent, his shoulders drooping a little forward. His voice was dry and
light--Patrick Carson would have said his grin was tiger-like.
"So that's the kind of a whelp you are!" he said.
Corrigan caught his breath; his hands clenched, his face reddened darkly.
He shot a quick glance at the sheet of paper under which he had placed the
pistol. Trevison interpreted it, brushed the paper aside, disclosing the
weapon. His lips curled; he took the pistol, "broke" it, tossed cartridges
and weapon into a corner of the desk and laughed lowly.
"So you were expecting me," he said. "Well, I'm here. You want my land,
eh?"
"I want the land that I'm entitled to under the terms of my purchase--the
original Midland grant, consisting of one-hundred thousand acres. It
belongs to me, and I mean to have it!"
"You're a liar, Corrigan," said the young man, holding the other's gaze
coldly; "you're a lying, sneaking crook. You have no claim to the land,
and you know it!"
Corrigan smiled stiffly. "The record of the deal I made with Jim Marchmont
years before any of you people usurped the property is in my pocket at
this minute. The court, here, will uphold it."
Trevison narrowed his eyes at the big man and laughed, bitter humor in the
sound. It was as though he had laughed to keep his rage from leaping,
naked and murderous, into this discussion.
"It takes nerve, Corrigan, to do what you are attempting; it does, by
Heaven--sheer, brazen gall! It's been done, though, by little,
pettifogging shysters, by piking real-estate crooks--thousands of parcels
of property scattered all over the United States have been filched in that
manner. But a hundred-thousand acres! It's the biggest steal that ever has
been attempted, to my knowledge, short of a Government grab, and your
imagination does you credit. It's easy to see what's been done. You've got
a fake title from Marchmont, antedating ours; you've got a crooked judge
here, to befuddle the thing with legal technicalities; you've got the
money, the power, the greed, and the cold-blooded determination. But I
don't think you understand what you're up against--do you? Nearly every
man who owns this land that you want has worked hard for it. It's been
bought with work, man--work and lonesomeness and blood--and souls. And now
you want to sweep it all away with one stroke. You want to step in here
and reap the benefit; you want to send us out of here, beggars." His voice
leaped from its repression; it now betrayed the passion that was consuming
him; it came through his teeth: "You can't hand me that sort of a raw
deal, Corrigan, and make me like it. Understand that, right now. You're
bucking the wrong man. You can drag the courts into it; you can wriggle
around a thousand legal corners, but damn you, you can't avert what's
bound to come if you don't lay off this deal, and that's a fight!" He
laughed, full-throated, his voice vibrating from the strength of the
passion that blazed in his eyes. He revealed, for an instant to Corrigan
the wild, reckless untamed youth that knew no law save his own impulses,
and the big man's eyes widened with the revelation, though he gave no
other sign. He leaned back in his chair, smiling coldly, idly flecking a
bit of ash from his shirt where it had fallen from his cigar.
"I am prepared for a fight. You'll get plenty of it before you're
through--if you don't lie down and be good." There was malice in his look,
complacent consciousness of his power. More, there was an impulse to
reveal to this young man whom he intended to ruin, at least one of the
motives that was driving him. He yielded to the impulse.
"I'm going to tell you something. I think I would have let you out of this
deal, if you hadn't been so fresh. But you made a grand-stand play before
the girl I am going to marry. You showed off your horse to make a bid for
her favor. You paraded before her window in the car to attract her
attention. I saw you. You rode me down. You'll get no mercy. I'm going to
break you. I'm going to send you back to your father, Brandon, senior, in
worse condition than when you left, ten years ago." He sneered as Trevison
started and stepped on the floor, rigid.
"How did you recognize me?" Curiosity had dulled the young man's passion;
his tone was hoarse.
"How?" Corrigan laughed, mockingly. "Did you think you could repose any
confidence in a woman you have known only about a month? Did you think she
wouldn't tell me--her promised husband? She has told me--everything that
she succeeded in getting out of you. She is heart and soul with me in this
deal. She is ambitious. Do you think she would hesitate to sacrifice a
clod-hopper like you? She's very clever, Trevison; she's deep, and more
than a match for you in wits. Fight, if you like, you'll get no sympathy
there."
Trevison's faith in Miss Benham had received a shock; Corrigan's words had
not killed it, however.
"You're a liar!" he said.
Corrigan flushed, but smiled icily. "How many people know that you have
coal on your land, Trevison?"
He saw Trevison's hands clench, and he laughed in grim amusement. It
pleased him to see his enemy writhe and squirm before him; the grimness
came because of a mental picture, in his mind at this minute, of Trevison
confiding in the girl. He looked up, the smile freezing on his lips, for
within a foot of his chest was the muzzle of Trevison's pistol. He saw the
trigger finger contracting; saw Trevison's free hand clenched, the muscles
corded and knotted--he felt the breathless, strained, unreal calm that
precedes tragedy, grim and swift. He slowly stiffened, but did not shrink
an inch. It took him seconds to raise his gaze to Trevison's face, and
then he caught his breath quickly and smiled with straight lips.
"No; you won't do it, Trevison," he said, slowly; "you're not that kind."
He deliberately swung around in the chair and drew another cigar from a
box on the desk top, lit it and leaned back, again facing the pistol.
Trevison restored the pistol to the holster, brushing a hand uncertainly
over his eyes as though to clear his mental vision, for the shock that had
come with the revelation of Miss Benham's duplicity had made his brain
reel with a lust to kill. He laughed hollowly. His voice came cold and
hard:
"You're right--it wouldn't do. It would be plain murder, and I'm not quite
up to that. You know your men, don't you--you coyote's whelp! You know
I'll fight fair. You'll do yours underhandedly. Get up! There's your gun!
Load it! Let's see if you've got the nerve to face a gun, with one in your
own hand!"
"I'll do my fighting in my own way." Corrigan's eyes kindled, but he did
not move. Trevison made a gesture of contempt, and wheeled, to go. As he
turned he caught a glimpse of a hand holding a pistol, as it vanished into
a narrow crevice between a jamb and the door that led to the rear room. He
drew his own weapon with a single movement, and swung around to Corrigan,
his muscles tensed, his eyes alert and chill with menace.
"I'll bore you if you wink an eyelash!" he warned, in a whisper.
He leaped, with the words, to the door, lunging against it, sending it
crashing back so that it smashed against the wall, overbalancing some
boxes that reposed on a shelf and sending them clattering. He stood in the
opening, braced for another leap, tall, big, his muscles swelling and
rippling, recklessly eager. Against the partition, which was still
swaying, his arms outstretched, a pistol in one hand, trying to crowd
still farther back to escape the searching glance of Trevison's eyes, was
Braman.
He had overheard Trevison's tense whisper to Corrigan. The cold savagery
in it had paralyzed him, and he gasped as Trevison's eyes found him, and
the pistol that he tried to raise dangled futilely from his nerveless
fingers. It thudded heavily upon the boards of the floor an instant later,
a shriek of fear mingling with the sound as he went down in a heap from a
vicious, deadening blow from Trevison's fist.
Trevison's leap upon Braman had been swift; he was back in the doorway
instantly, looking at Corrigan, his eyes ablaze with rage, wild, reckless,
bitter. He laughed--the sound of it brought a grayish pallor to Corrigan's
face.
"That explains your nerve!" he taunted. "It's a frame-up. You sent the
deputy after me--pointed me out when I went into Hanrahan's! That's how he
knew me! You knew I'd come in here to have it out with you, and you
figured to have Braman shoot me when my back was turned! Ha, ha!" He swung
his pistol on Corrigan; the big man gripped the arms of his chair and sat
rigid, staring, motionless. For an instant there was no sound. And then
Trevison laughed again.
"Bah!" he said; "I can't use your methods! You're safe so long as you
don't move." He laughed again as he looked down at the banker. Reaching
down, he grasped the inert man by the scruff of the neck and dragged him
through the door, out into the banking room, past Corrigan, who watched
him wonderingly and to the front, there he dropped him and turning,
answered the question that he saw shining in Corrigan's eyes:
"I don't work in the dark! We'll take this case out into the sunlight, so
the whole town can have a look at it!"
He stooped swiftly, grasped Braman around the middle, swung him aloft and
hurled him through the window, into the street, the glass, shattered,
clashing and jangling around him. He turned to Corrigan, laughing lowly:
"Get up. Manti will want to know. I'm going to do the talking!"
He forced Corrigan to the front door, and stood on the threshold behind
him, silent, watching.
A hundred doorways were vomiting men. The crash of glass had carried far,
and visions of a bank robbery filled many brains as their owners raced
toward the doorway where Trevison stood, the muzzle of his pistol jammed
firmly against Corrigan's back.
The crowd gathered, in the manner peculiar to such scenes, coming from all
directions and converging at one point, massing densely in front of the
bank building, surrounding the fallen banker, pushing, jostling,
straining, craning necks for better views, eager-voiced, curious.
No one touched Braman. On the contrary, there were many in the front
fringe that braced their bodies against the crush, shoving backward,
crying that a man was hurt and needed breathing space. They were unheeded,
and when the banker presently recovered consciousness he was lifted to his
feet and stood, pressed close to the building, swaying dizzily, pale, weak
and shaken.
Word had gone through the crowd that it was not a robbery, for there were
many there who knew Trevison; they shouted greetings to him, and he
answered them, standing back of Corrigan, grim and somber.
Foremost in the crowd was Mullarky, who on another day had seen a fight at
this same spot. He had taken a stand directly in front of the door of the
bank, and had been using his eyes and his wits rapidly since his coming.
And when two or three men from the crowd edged forward and tried to push
their way to Corrigan, Mullarky drew a pistol, leaped to the door landing
beside Trevison and trained his weapon, on them.
"Stand back, or I'll plug you, sure as I'm a foot high! There's hell to
pay here, an' me friend gets a square deal--whatever he's done!"
"Right!" came other voices from various points in the crowd; "a square
deal--no interference!"
Judge Lindman came out into the street, urged by curiosity. He had stepped
down from the doorway of the courthouse and had instantly been carried
with the crowd to a point directly in front of Corrigan and Trevison,
where he stood, bare-headed, pale, watching silently. Corrigan saw him,
and smiled faintly at him. The easterner's eye sought out several faces in
the crowd near him, and when he finally caught the gaze of a certain
individual who had been eyeing him inquiringly for some moments, he slowly
closed an eye and moved his head slightly toward the rear of the building.
Instantly the man whistled shrilly with his fingers, as though to summon
someone far down the street, and slipping around the edge of the crowd
made his way around to the rear of the bank building, where he was joined
presently by other men, roughly garbed, who carried pistols. One of them
climbed in through a window, opened the door, and the others--numbering
now twenty-five or thirty, dove into the room.
Out in front a silence had fallen. Trevison had lifted a hand and the
crowd strained its ears to hear.
"I've caught a crook!" declared Trevison, the frenzy of fight still
surging through his veins. "He's not a cheap crook--I give him credit for
that. All he wants to do is to steal the whole county. He'll do it, too,
if we don't head him off. I'll tell you more about him in a minute.
There's another of his stripe." He pointed to Braman, who cringed. "I
threw him out through the window, where the sunlight could shine on him.
He tried to shoot me in the back--the big crook here, framed up on me. I
want you all to know what you're up against. They're after all the land in
this section; they've clouded every title. It's a raw, dirty deal. I see
now, why they haven't sold a foot of the land they own here; why they've
shoved the cost of leases up until it's ruination to pay them. They're
land thieves, commercial pirates. They're going to euchre everybody out
of--"
Trevison caught a gasp from the crowd--concerted, sudden. He saw the mass
sway in unison, stiffen, stand rigid; and he turned his head quickly, to
see the door behind him, and the broken window through which he had thrown
Braman--the break running the entire width of the building--filled with
men armed with rifles.
He divined the situation, sensed his danger--the danger that faced the
crowd should one of its members make a hostile movement.
"Steady there, boys!" he shouted. "Don't start anything. These men are
here through prearrangement--it's another frame-up. Keep your guns out of
sight!" He turned, to see Corrigan grinning contemptuously at him. He met
the look with naked exultation and triumph.
"Got your body-guard within call, eh?" he jeered. "You need one. You've
cut me short, all right; but I've said enough to start a fire that will
rage through this part of the country until every damned thief is burned
out! You've selected the wrong man for a victim, Corrigan."
He stepped down into the street, sheathing his pistol. He heard Corrigan's
voice, calling after him, saying:
"Grand-stand play again!"
Trevison turned; the gaze of the two men met, held, their hatred glowing
bitter in their eyes; the gaze broke, like two sharp blades rasping apart,
and Corrigan turned to his deputies, scowling; while Trevison pushed his
way through the crowd.
Five minutes later, while Corrigan was talking with the deputies and
Braman in the rear room of the bank building, Trevison was standing in the
courthouse talking with Judge Lindman. The Judge stared out into the
street at some members of the crowd that still lingered.
"This town will be a volcano of lawlessness if it doesn't get a square
deal from you, Lindman," said Trevison. "You have seen what a mob looks
like. You're the representative of justice here, and if we don't get
justice we'll come and hang you in spite of a thousand deputies! Remember
that!"
He stalked out, leaving behind him a white-faced, trembling old man who
was facing a crisis which made the future look very black and dismal. He
was wondering if, after all, hanging wouldn't be better than the sunlight
shining on a deed which each day he regretted more than on the preceding
day. And Trevison, riding Nigger out of town, was estimating the probable
effect of his crowd-drawing action upon Judge Lindman, and considering
bitterly the perfidy of the woman who had cleverly drawn him on, to betray
him.
More
-
Desperate Measures
Nightfall found the quartet established in the S Bar bunk house. The joyful thanks of Ma Thomas was enough reward for any of them. She hadn't expected to see Kid Wolf again, she said, and to have him return with help was a wonderful surprise. S... Deveny Secedes
Since the day he had heard that Harlan had appeared at the Star and had been taken into the outlaw band by Haydon, Deveny had exhibited fits of a sullen moroseness that had kept his closest friends from seeking his companionship. Those friends wer... Dick Leslie Ranger
Which end of the street I entered I had no idea. The cabins were all alike, and in my hurry I would have passed the cook's shack had it not been for the sight of a man standing in the door. That stalwart figure I would have known anywhere. "Dick!... Dick Martin Starts Something
Dick Martin slowly turned, leaned his back against the bar, and languidly regarded a group of Mexicans at the other end of the room. Singly, or in combinations of two or more, each was imparting all he knew, or thought he knew about the ghost of San... Discipline
A light step crossed the outer room, with something peculiar in its lightness, as if the heel were not touching the floor, with the effect of the padded fall of the feet of some great cat; there was both softness and the sense of weight. First the w... Discipline
He made the preparation for supper with such easy speed that everything seemed to be done by magic hands. When Joan's mother cooked supper there was always much rattling of the stove, then the building of the fire, a long preparation of food, and an... Don Carlos
Stewart took Nels, Monty, and Nick Steele aside out of earshot, and they evidently entered upon an earnest colloquy. Presently the other cowboys were called. They all talked more or less, but the deep voice of Stewart predominated over the others. T... Don Carlos's Vaqueros
Early the following morning Stewart, with a company of cowboys, departed for Don Carlos's rancho. As the day wore on without any report from him, Stillwell appeared to grow more at ease; and at nightfall he told Madeline that he guessed there was no... Don't Get Excited!
Lovers, it would seem, require much less material for a quarrel than persons in a less exalted frame of mind. Good Indian believed himself very much in love with his Christmas angel, and was very much inclined to let her know it, but at the same t... Don't You Like Me Any More?
Harshaw's rangers caught up with the militia an hour later. The valley men were big, tanned, outdoor fellows, whereas the militia company was composed of young lads from Colorado towns, most of them slight and not yet fully developed. The state tr... Don't You Touch Him!
Inside the big chuck tent of the construction camp the cook was busy forking steak to tin plates and ladling potatoes into deep dishes. "Git a move on you, Red Haid," he ordered. Bob Dillon distributed the food at intervals along the table whi... Dorman Plays Cupid
Dorman toiled up the steps, his straw hat perilously near to slipping down his back, his face like a large, red beet, and his hands vainly trying to reach around a baking-powder can which the Chinaman cook had given him. He marched straight to ... Dr Macbride Begs Pardon
Judge and Mrs. Henry, Molly Wood, and two strangers, a lady and a gentleman, were the party which had been driving in the large three-seated wagon. They had seemed a merry party. But as I came within hearing of their talk, it was a fragment of the... Dreams
Although the paper was a year old, Senor Johnson in due time received an answer from Kansas. A correspondence ensued. Senor Johnson enshrined above the big fireplace the photograph of a woman. Before this he used to stand for hours at a time slow... Dried Rose-leaves
The house that Prosper Gael had built for himself and for the woman whom Joan came to think of as the "tall child," stood in a canyon, a deep, secret fold of the hills, where a cliff stood behind it, and where the pine-needled ground descended bef... Dud Qualifies As Court Jester
It was still dark when Dud Hollister and Bob Dillon waded through the snow to the corral and saddled their horses. They jogged across the mesa through the white drifts. Bob's pony stumbled into a burrow, but pulled out again without damage. ... Eavesdropping
Out of the murmur of voices came one that Curly recognized as that of Soapy Stone, alias You Know Who. " ... then you'll take the 9:57, Sam...." After more whispering, "Yep, soon as you hear the first shot ... cover the passengers...." The... Echo Cliffs
WHEN thought came clearly to him he halted irresolute. For Mescal's sake he must not appear to have had any part in her headlong flight, or any knowledge of it. With stealthy footsteps he reached the cottonwoods, stole under the gloomy shade, a... Ed Austin Turns At Bay
Had it not been for her fears, Paloma Jones would have taken her visit to the Austin ranch as an unmixed enjoyment. To her Alaire had always been an ideally romantic figure. More than once, in her moments of melancholy, Paloma had envied Mrs. Aust... Edwards' Ultimatum
Edwards slid off the counter in Jackson's store and glowered at the pelting rain outside, perturbed and grouchy. The wounded man in the corner stirred and looked at him without interest and forthwith renewed his profane monologue, while the propriet... El Capitan
Stillwell's interest in the revolution across the Mexican line had manifestly increased with the news that Gene Stewart had achieved distinction with the rebel forces. Thereafter the old cattleman sent for El Paso and Douglas newspapers, wrote to ra... Eleanor Intervenes
The president's private car was side-tracked on the short spur at the eastern end of the Crow's Nest, and when Lidgerwood reached it he found the observation platform fully occupied. The night was no more than pleasantly cool, and the half-grown m... Em'ly
My personage was a hen, and she lived at the Sunk Creek Ranch. Judge Henry's ranch was notable for several luxuries. He had milk, for example. In those days his brother ranchmen had thousands of cattle very often, but not a drop of milk, save th... Emotions Are Tricky Things
A man's mind is a tricky thing—or, speaking more exactly, a man's emotions are tricky things. Love has come rushing to the beck of a tip-tilted chin, or the tone of a voice, or the droop of an eyelid. It has fled for cause as slight. Sometimes it run... En Passant
It was intentionally late in the day when we reached Dodge. My horse, which I was leading, gave considerable trouble while returning, compelling us to drive slow. The buyers repeatedly complained that dinner would be over at their hotel, but the det... Enter Bear-trap Collins
She had been aware of him from the moment of his spectacular entrance, though no slightest sign of interest manifested itself in her indolent, incurious eyes. Indeed, his abundant and picturesque area was so vivid that it would have been difficult n... Enter Simon Harley
The prospector's house in which they had found refuge was perched on the mountainside just at one edge of the draw. Rough as the girl had thought it, there was a more pretentious appearance to it than might have been expected. The cabin was of hewn ... Enter The Man
Some notable sight was drawing the passengers, both men and women, to the window; and therefore I rose and crossed the car to see what it was. I saw near the track an enclosure, and round it some laughing men, and inside it some whirling dust, and... Enter The Woman
"We are taking steps," said Mr. Taylor. "Bear Creek ain't going to be hasty about a schoolmarm." "Sure," assented the Virginian. "The children wouldn't want yu' to hurry." But Mr. Taylor was, as I have indicated, a serious family man. The pr... Equal Payment
They knew what it meant; even Joan had heard the cry of the lone wolf hunting in the lean time of winter, and of all things sad, all things lonely, all things demoniacal, the howl of a wolf stands alone. Lee Haines reached for his gun, little Joan s... Escape
Down, down I plunged, and the shock of the icy water seemed to petrify me. I should have gone straight to the bottom like a piece of lead but for the lasso. It tightened around my chest, and began to haul me up. I felt the air and the light, and o... Estrella
The honeymoon developed and the necessary adjustments took place. The latter Senor Johnson had not foreseen; and yet, when the necessity for them arose, he acknowledged them right and proper. "Course she don't want to ride over to Circle I with u... Evadna Goes Calling
"I have every reason to believe that your two missing jumpers took the train for Shoshone last night," Miss Georgie made answer to Good Indian's account of what had happened since he saw her. "Two furtive-eyed individuals answering your description ... Even Mushrooms Help
Bud wanted to have a little confidential talk with Marian. He hoped that she would be willing to tell him a great deal more than could be written on one side of a cigarette paper, and he was curious to hear what it was. On the other hand, he wanted ... Everyman's Share
"This switching-engine mystery opens up a field that I've been trying to get into for some little time, Mac," the superintendent began, after the half-hour had elapsed and the trainmaster had returned to the private office. "Sit down and we'll thr... Exit The King
They bedded that night under the great vault-roof where twinkle a million stars. There were three of the outlaw's men with him, and both Mcwilliams and his friend noticed that they slept a little apart from their chief. There were other indicatio... Exposed To The Sunlight
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...