Her Majesty's Rancho
: The Light Of Western StarsFIVE months brought all that Stillwell had dreamed of, and so many more
changes and improvements and innovations that it was as if a magic touch
had transformed the old ranch. Madeline and Alfred and Florence had
talked over a fitting name, and had decided on one chosen by Madeline.
But this instance was the only one in the course of developments in
which Madeline's wishes were not compiled with. The cowboys named the
bestowed were felicitous, and as unchangeable as the everlasting hills;
Florence went over to the enemy; and Alfred, laughing at Madeline's
protest, declared the cowboys had elected her queen of the ranges, and
that there was no help for it. So the name stood "Her Majesty's Rancho."
The April sun shone down upon a slow-rising green knoll that nestled in
the lee of the foothills, and seemed to center bright rays upon the long
ranch-house, which gleamed snow-white from the level summit. The grounds
around the house bore no semblance to Eastern lawns or parks; there had
been no landscape-gardening; Stillwell had just brought water and grass
and flowers and plants to the knoll-top, and there had left them, as it
were, to follow nature. His idea may have been crude, but the result
was beautiful. Under that hot sun and balmy air, with cool water daily
soaking into the rich soil, a green covering sprang into life, and
everywhere upon it, as if by magic, many colored flowers rose in the
sweet air. Pale wild flowers, lavender daisies, fragile bluebells, white
four-petaled lilies like Eastern mayflowers, and golden poppies, deep
sunset gold, color of the West, bloomed in happy confusion. California
roses, crimson as blood, nodded heavy heads and trembled with the weight
of bees. Low down in bare places, isolated, open to the full power of
the sun, blazed the vermilion and magenta blossoms of cactus plants.
Green slopes led all the way down to where new adobe barns and sheds had
been erected, and wide corrals stretched high-barred fences down to the
great squares of alfalfa gently inclining to the gray of the valley. The
bottom of a dammed-up hollow shone brightly with its slowly increasing
acreage of water, upon which thousands of migratory wildfowl whirred and
splashed and squawked, as if reluctant to leave this cool, wet surprise
so new in the long desert journey to the northland. Quarters for the
cowboys--comfortable, roomy adobe houses that not even the lamest cowboy
dared describe as crampy bunks--stood in a row upon a long bench of
ground above the lake. And down to the edge of the valley the cluster of
Mexican habitations and the little church showed the touch of the same
renewing hand.
All that had been left of the old Spanish house which had been
Stillwell's home for so long was the bare, massive structure, and
some of this had been cut away for new doors and windows. Every modern
convenience, even to hot and cold running water and acetylene light,
had been installed; and the whole interior painted and carpentered and
furnished. The ideal sought had not been luxury, but comfort. Every door
into the patio looked out upon dark, rich grass and sweet-faced flowers,
and every window looked down the green slopes.
Madeline's rooms occupied the west end of the building and comprised
four in number, all opening out upon the long porch. There was a
small room for her maid, another which she used as an office, then her
sleeping-apartment; and, lastly, the great light chamber which she had
liked so well upon first sight, and which now, simply yet beautifully
furnished and containing her favorite books and pictures, she had come
to love as she had never loved any room at home. In the morning the
fragrant, balmy air blew the white curtains of the open windows; at
noon the drowsy, sultry quiet seemed to creep in for the siesta that was
characteristic of the country; in the afternoon the westering sun peeped
under the porch roof and painted the walls with gold bars that slowly
changed to red.
Madeline Hammond cherished a fancy that the transformation she had
wrought in the old Spanish house and in the people with whom she had
surrounded herself, great as that transformation had been, was as
nothing compared to the one wrought in herself. She had found an object
in life. She was busy, she worked with her hands as well as mind, yet
she seemed to have more time to read and think and study and idle
and dream than ever before. She had seen her brother through his
difficulties, on the road to all the success and prosperity that he
cared for. Madeline had been a conscientious student of ranching and an
apt pupil of Stillwell. The old cattleman, in his simplicity, gave her
the place in his heart that was meant for the daughter he had never had.
His pride in her, Madeline thought, was beyond reason or belief or
words to tell. Under his guidance, sometimes accompanied by Alfred and
Florence, Madeline had ridden the ranges and had studied the life and
work of the cowboys. She had camped on the open range, slept under the
blinking stars, ridden forty miles a day in the face of dust and wind.
She had taken two wonderful trips down into the desert--one trip to
Chiricahua, and from there across the waste of sand and rock and alkali
and cactus to the Mexican borderline; and the other through the Aravaipa
Valley, with its deep, red-walled canyons and wild fastnesses.
This breaking-in, this training into Western ways, though she had been
a so-called outdoor girl, had required great effort and severe pain; but
the education, now past its grades, had become a labor of love. She
had perfect health, abounding spirits. She was so active hat she had to
train herself into taking the midday siesta, a custom of the country
and imperative during the hot summer months. Sometimes she looked in
her mirror and laughed with sheer joy at sight of the lithe, audacious,
brown-faced, flashing-eyed creature reflected there. It was not so much
joy in her beauty as sheer joy of life. Eastern critics had been wont to
call her beautiful in those days when she had been pale and slender and
proud and cold. She laughed. If they could only see her now! From the
tip of her golden head to her feet she was alive, pulsating, on fire.
Sometimes she thought of her parents, sister, friends, of how they had
persistently refused to believe she could or would stay in the West.
They were always asking her to come home. And when she wrote, which was
dutifully often, the last thing under the sun that she was likely to
mention was the change in her. She wrote that she would return to her
old home some time, of course, for a visit; and letters such as this
brought returns that amused Madeline, sometimes saddened her. She meant
to go back East for a while, and after that once or twice every year.
But the initiative was a difficult step from which she shrank. Once
home, she would have to make explanations, and these would not be
understood. Her father's business had been such that he could not leave
it for the time required for a Western trip, or else, according to his
letter, he would have come for her. Mrs. Hammond could not have been
driven to cross the Hudson River; her un-American idea of the wilderness
westward was that Indians still chased buffalo on the outskirts of
Chicago. Madeline's sister Helen had long been eager to come, as much
from curiosity, Madeline thought, as from sisterly regard. And at length
Madeline concluded that the proof of her breaking permanent ties might
better be seen by visiting relatives and friends before she went back
East. With that in mind she invited Helen to visit her during the
summer, and bring as many friends as she liked.
* * *
No slight task indeed was it to oversee the many business details of Her
Majesty's Rancho and to keep a record of them. Madeline found the course
of business training upon which her father had insisted to be invaluable
to her now. It helped her to assimilate and arrange the practical
details of cattle-raising as put forth by the blunt Stillwell. She split
up the great stock of cattle into different herds, and when any of these
were out running upon the open range she had them closely watched. Part
of the time each herd was kept in an inclosed range, fed and watered,
and carefully handled by a big force of cowboys. She employed three
cowboy scouts whose sole duty was to ride the ranges searching for
stray, sick, or crippled cattle or motherless calves, and to bring these
in to be treated and nursed. There were two cowboys whose business was
to master a pack of Russian stag-hounds and to hunt down the coyotes,
wolves, and lions that preyed upon the herds. The better and tamer
milch cows were separated from the ranging herds and kept in a pasture
adjoining the dairy. All branding was done in corrals, and calves were
weaned from mother-cows at the proper time to benefit both. The old
method of branding and classing, that had so shocked Madeline, had been
abandoned, and one had been inaugurated whereby cattle and cowboys and
horses were spared brutality and injury.
Madeline established an extensive vegetable farm, and she planted
orchards. The climate was superior to that of California, and, with
abundant water, trees and plants and gardens flourished and bloomed in
a way wonderful to behold. It was with ever-increasing pleasure that
Madeline walked through acres of ground once bare, now green and bright
and fragrant. There were poultry-yards and pig-pens and marshy quarters
for ducks and geese. Here in the farming section of the ranch Madeline
found employment for the little colony of Mexicans. Their lives had been
as hard and barren as the dry valley where they had lived. But as the
valley had been transformed by the soft, rich touch of water, so their
lives had been transformed by help and sympathy and work. The children
were wretched no more, and many that had been blind could now see, and
Madeline had become to them a new and blessed virgin.
Madeline looked abroad over these lands and likened the change in them
and those who lived by them to the change in her heart. It may have
been fancy, but the sun seemed to be brighter, the sky bluer, the wind
sweeter. Certain it was that the deep green of grass and garden was not
fancy, nor the white and pink of blossom, nor the blaze and perfume of
flower, nor the sheen of lake and the fluttering of new-born leaves.
Where there had been monotonous gray there was now vivid and changing
color. Formerly there had been silence both day and night; now during
the sunny hours there was music. The whistle of prancing stallions
pealed in from the grassy ridges. Innumerable birds had come and, like
the northward-journeying ducks, they had tarried to stay. The song
of meadow-lark and blackbird and robin, familiar to Madeline from
childhood, mingled with the new and strange heart-throbbing song
of mocking-bird and the piercing blast of the desert eagle and the
melancholy moan of turtle-dove.
*****
One April morning Madeline sat in her office wrestling with a problem.
She had problems to solve every day. The majority of these were
concerned with the management of twenty-seven incomprehensible cowboys.
This particular problem involved Ambrose Mills, who had eloped with her
French maid, Christine.
Stillwell faced Madeline with a smile almost as huge as his bulk.
"Wal, Miss Majesty, we ketched them; but not before Padre Marcos had
married them. All thet speedin' in the autoomoobile was jest a-scarin'
of me to death fer nothin'. I tell you Link Stevens is crazy about
runnin' thet car. Link never hed no sense even with a hoss. He ain't
afraid of the devil hisself. If my hair hedn't been white it 'd be white
now. No more rides in thet thing fer me! Wal, we ketched Ambrose an'
the girl too late. But we fetched them back, an' they're out there now,
spoonin', sure oblivious to their shameless conduct."
"Stillwell, what shall I say to Ambrose? How shall I punish him? He has
done wrong to deceive me. I never was so surprised in my life. Christine
did not seem to care any more for Ambrose than for any of the other
cowboys. What does my authority amount to? I must do something.
Stillwell, you must help me."
Whenever Madeline fell into a quandary she had to call upon the
old cattleman. No man ever held a position with greater pride than
Stillwell, but he had been put to tests that steeped him in humility.
Here he scratched his head in great perplexity.
"Dog-gone the luck! What's this elopin' bizness to do with
cattle-raisin'? I don't know nothin' but cattle. Miss Majesty, it's
amazin' strange what these cowboys hev come to. I never seen no cowboys
like these we've got hyar now. I don't know them any more. They dress
swell an' read books, an' some of them hev actooly stopped cussin' an'
drinkin'. I ain't sayin' all this is against them. Why, now, they're
jest the finest bunch of cow-punchers I ever seen or dreamed of. But
managin' them now is beyond me. When cowboys begin to play thet game
gol-lof an' run off with French maids I reckon Bill Stillwell has got to
resign."
"Stillwell! Oh, you will not leave me? What in the world would I do?"
exclaimed Madeline, in great anxiety.
"Wal, I sure won't leave you, Miss Majesty. No, I never'll do thet. I'll
run the cattle bizness fer you an' see after the hosses an' other stock.
But I've got to hev a foreman who can handle this amazin' strange bunch
of cowboys."
"You've tried half a dozen foremen. Try more until you find the man who
meets your requirements," said Madeline. "Never mind that now. Tell me
how to impress Ambrose--to make him an example, so to speak. I must have
another maid. And I do not want a new one carried off in this summary
manner."
"Wal, if you fetch pretty maids out hyar you can't expect nothin' else.
Why, thet black-eyed little French girl, with her white skin an' pretty
airs an' smiles an' shrugs, she had the cowboys crazy. It'll be wuss
with the next one."
"Oh dear!" sighed Madeline.
"An' as fer impressin' Ambrose, I reckon I can tell you how to do thet.
Jest give it to him good an' say you're goin' to fire him. That'll fix
Ambrose, an' mebbe scare the other boys fer a spell."
"Very well, Stillwell, bring Ambrose in to see me, and tell Christine to
wait in my room."
It was a handsome debonair, bright-eyed cowboy that came tramping
into Madeline's presence. His accustomed shyness and awkwardness had
disappeared in an excited manner. He was a happy boy. He looked straight
into Madeline's face as if he expected her to wish him joy. And Madeline
actually found that expression trembling to her lips. She held it back
until she could be severe. But Madeline feared she would fail of much
severity. Something warm and sweet, like a fragrance, had entered the
room with Ambrose.
"Ambrose, what have you done?" she asked.
"Miss Hammond, I've been and gone and got married," replied Ambrose, his
words tumbling over one another. His eyes snapped, and there was a kind
of glow upon his clean-shaven brown cheek. "I've stole a march on the
other boys. There was Frank Slade pushin' me close, and I was havin'
some runnin' to keep Jim Bell back in my dust. Even old man Nels made
eyes at Christine! So I wasn't goin' to take any chances. I just packed
her off to El Cajon and married her."
"Oh, so I heard," said Madeline, slowly, as she watched him. "Ambrose,
do you--love her?"
He reddened under her clear gaze, dropped his head, and fumbled with
his new sombrero, and there was a catch in his breath. Madeline saw
his powerful brown hand tremble. It affected her strangely that this
stalwart cowboy, who could rope and throw and tie a wild steer in less
than one minute, should tremble at a mere question. Suddenly he raised
his head, and at the beautiful blase of his eyes Madeline turned her own
away.
"Yes, Miss Hammond, I love her," he said. "I think I love her in the
way you're askin' about. I know the first time I saw her I thought how
wonderful it'd be to have a girl like that for my wife. It's all been
so strange--her comin' an' how she made me feel. Sure I never knew many
girls, and I haven't seen any girls at all for years. But when she came!
A girl makes a wonderful difference in a man's feelin's and thoughts.
I guess I never had any before. Leastways, none like I have now.
My--it--well, I guess I have a little understandin' now of Padre
Marcos's blessin'."
"Ambrose, have you nothing to say to me?" asked Madeline.
"I'm sure sorry I didn't have time to tell you. But I was in some
hurry."
"What did you intend to do? Where were you going when Stillwell found
you?"
"We'd just been married. I hadn't thought of anything after that.
Suppose I'd have rustled back to my job. I'll sure have to work now and
save my money."
"Oh, well, Ambrose, I am glad you realize your responsibilities. Do you
earn enough--is your pay sufficient to keep a wife?"
"Sure it is! Why, Miss Hammond, I never before earned half the salary
I'm gettin' now. It's some fine to work for you. I'm goin' to fire the
boys out of my bunk-house and fix it up for Christine and me. Say, won't
they be jealous?"
"Ambrose, I--I congratulate you. I wish you joy," said Madeline. "I--I
shall make Christine a little wedding-present. I want to talk to her for
a few moments. You may go now."
It would have been impossible for Madeline to say one severe word
to that happy cowboy. She experienced difficulty in hiding her own
happiness at the turn of events. Curiosity and interest mingled with her
pleasure when she called to Christine.
"Mrs. Ambrose Mills, please come in."
No sound came from the other room.
"I should like very much to see the bride," went on Madeline.
Still there was no stir or reply
"Christine!" called Madeline.
Then it was as if a little whirlwind of flying feet and entreating
hands and beseeching eyes blew in upon Madeline. Christine was small,
graceful, plump, with very white skin and very dark hair. She had been
Madeline's favorite maid for years and there was sincere affection
between the two. Whatever had been the blissful ignorance of Ambrose, it
was manifestly certain that Christine knew how she had transgressed.
Her fear and remorse and appeal for forgiveness were poured out in an
incoherent storm. Plain it was that the little French maid had been
overwhelmed. It was only after Madeline had taken the emotional girl in
her arms and had forgiven and soothed her that her part in the elopement
became clear. Christine was in a maze. But gradually, as she talked and
saw that she was forgiven, calmness came in some degree, and with it
a story which amused yet shocked Madeline. The unmistakable, shy,
marveling love, scarcely realized by Christine, gave Madeline relief
and joy. If Christine loved Ambrose there was no harm done. Watching the
girl's eyes, wonderful with their changes of thought, listening to her
attempts to explain what it was evident she did not understand, Madeline
gathered that if ever a caveman had taken unto himself a wife, if ever
a barbarian had carried off a Sabine woman, then Ambrose Mills had acted
with the violence of such ancient forebears. Just how it all happened
seemed to be beyond Christine.
"He say he love me," repeated the girl, in a kind of rapt awe. "He ask
me to marry him--he kees me--he hug me--he lift me on ze horse--he ride
with me all night--he marry me."
And she exhibited a ring on the third finger of her left hand. Madeline
saw that, whatever had been the state of Christine's feeling for Ambrose
before this marriage, she loved him now. She had been taken forcibly,
but she was won.
After Christine had gone, comforted and betraying her shy eagerness
to get back to Ambrose, Madeline was haunted by the look in the girl's
eyes, and her words. Assuredly the spell of romance was on this sunny
land. For Madeline there was a nameless charm, a nameless thrill
combating her sense of the violence and unfitness of Ambrose's wooing.
Something, she knew not what, took arms against her intellectual
arraignment of the cowboy's method of getting himself a wife. He had
said straight out that he loved the girl--he had asked her to marry
him--he kissed her--he hugged her--he lifted her upon his horse--he rode
away with her through the night--and he married her. In whatever light
Madeline reviewed this thing she always came back to her first natural
impression; it thrilled her, charmed her. It went against all the
precepts of her training; nevertheless, it was somehow splendid and
beautiful. She imagined it stripped another artificial scale from her
over-sophisticated eyes.
Scarcely had she settled again to the task on her desk when Stillwell's
heavy tread across the porch interrupted her. This time when he entered
he wore a look that bordered upon the hysterical; it was difficult to
tell whether he was trying to suppress grief or glee.
"Miss Majesty, there's another amazin' strange thing sprung on me.
Hyars Jim Bell come to see you, an', when I taxed him, sayin' you was
tolerable busy, he up an' says he was hungry an' he ain't a-goin' to eat
any more bread made in a wash-basin! Says he'll starve first. Says Nels
hed the gang over to big bunk an' feasted them on bread you taught him
how to make in some new-fangled bucket-machine with a crank. Jim says
thet bread beat any cake he ever eat, an' he wants you to show him how
to make some. Now, Miss Majesty, as superintendent of this ranch I ought
to know what's goin' on. Mebbe Jim is jest a-joshin' me. Mebbe he's gone
clean dotty. Mebbe I hev. An' beggin' your pardon, I want to know if
there's any truth in what Jim says Nels says."
Whereupon it became necessary for Madeline to stifle her mirth and to
inform the sadly perplexed old cattleman that she had received from the
East a patent bread-mixer, and in view of the fact that her household
women had taken fright at the contrivance, she had essayed to operate
it herself. This had turned out to be so simple, so saving of time and
energy and flour, so much more cleanly than the old method of mixing
dough with the hands, and particularly it had resulted in such good
bread, that Madeline had been pleased. Immediately she ordered more
of the bread-mixers. One day she had happened upon Nels making biscuit
dough in his wash-basin, and she had delicately and considerately
introduced to him the idea of her new method. Nels, it appeared, had a
great reputation as a bread-maker, and he was proud of it. Moreover,
he was skeptical of any clap-trap thing with wheels and cranks. He
consented, however, to let her show how the thing worked and to sample
some of the bread. To that end she had him come up to the house, where
she won him over. Stillwell laughed loud and long.
"Wal, wal, wal!" he exclaimed, at length. "Thet's fine, an' it's
powerful funny. Mebbe you don't see how funny? Wal, Nels has jest been
lordin' it over the boys about how you showed him, an' now you'll hev
to show every last cowboy on the place the same thing. Cowboys are the
jealousest kind of fellers. They're all crazy about you, anyway. Take
Jim out hyar. Why, thet lazy cowpuncher jest never would make bread.
He's notorious fer shirkin' his share of the grub deal. I've knowed Jim
to trade off washin' the pots an' pans fer a lonely watch on a rainy
night. All he wants is to see you show him the same as Nels is crowin'
over. Then he'll crow over his bunkie, Frank Slade, an' then Frank'll
get lonely to know all about this wonderful bread-machine. Cowboys are
amazin' strange critters, Miss Majesty. An' now thet you've begun with
them this way, you'll hev to keep it up. I will say I never seen such a
bunch to work. You've sure put heart in them."
"Indeed, Stillwell, I am glad to hear that," replied Madeline. "And I
shall be pleased to teach them all. But may I not have them all up here
at once--at least those off duty?"
"Wal, I reckon you can't onless you want to hev them scrappin',"
rejoined Stillwell, dryly. "What you've got on your hands now, Miss
Majesty, is to let 'em come one by one, an' make each cowboy think
you're takin' more especial pleasure in showin' him than the feller who
came before him. Then mebbe we can go on with cattle-raisin'."
Madeline protested, and Stillwell held inexorably to what he said was
wisdom. Several times Madeline had gone against his advice, to her utter
discomfiture and rout. She dared not risk it again, and resigned herself
gracefully and with subdued merriment to her task. Jim Bell was ushered
into the great, light, spotless kitchen, where presently Madeline
appeared to put on an apron and roll up her sleeves. She explained the
use of the several pieces of aluminum that made up the bread-mixer and
fastened the bucket to the table-shelf. Jim's life might have depended
upon this lesson, judging from his absorbed manner and his desire to
have things explained over and over, especially the turning of the
crank. When Madeline had to take Jim's hand three times to show him the
simple mechanism and then he did not understand she began to have faint
misgivings as to his absolute sincerity. She guessed that as long as
she touched Jim's hand he never would understand. Then as she began
to measure out flour and milk and lard and salt and yeast she saw with
despair that Jim was not looking at the ingredients, was not paying the
slightest attention to them. His eyes were covertly upon her.
"Jim, I am not sure about you," said Madeline, severely. "How can you
learn to make bread if you do not watch me mix it?"
"I am a-watchin' you," replied Jim, innocently.
Finally Madeline sent the cowboy on his way rejoicing with the
bread-mixer under his arm. Next morning, true to Stillwell's prophecy,
Frank Slade, Jim's bunkmate, presented himself cheerfully to Madeline
and unbosomed himself of a long-deferred and persistent desire to
relieve his overworked comrade of some of the house-keeping in their
bunk.
"Miss Hammond," said Frank, "Jim's orful kind wantin' to do it all
hisself. But he ain't very bright, an' I didn't believe him. You see,
I'm from Missouri, an' you'll have to show me."
For a whole week Madeline held clinics where she expounded the
scientific method of modern bread-making. She got a good deal of
enjoyment out of her lectures. What boys these great hulking fellows
were! She saw through their simple ruses. Some of them were grave as
deacons; others wore expressions important enough to have fitted the
faces of statesmen signing government treaties. These cowboys were
children; they needed to be governed; but in order to govern them they
had to be humored. A more light-hearted, fun-loving crowd of boys could
not have been found. And they were grown men. Stillwell explained that
the exuberance of spirits lay in the difference in their fortunes.
Twenty-seven cowboys, in relays of nine, worked eight hours a day. That
had never been heard of before in the West. Stillwell declared that
cowboys from all points of the compass would head their horses toward
Her Majesty's Rancho.
More
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The east was streaked with pink and orange when The Kid and Harry Thomas rode into the sleeping town of Mariposa. The little Mexican city, they discovered, however, was not entirely asleep. At the northern edge of the city, on the stretch of sand... Gone
Motionless in his saddle, save for an occasional restless stamp of his horse, Bud Jessup waited patiently in front of the adobe shack at Las Vegas camp. His face was serious and thoughtful, and his glance was fixed on the open door through which c... Good Enough
"Alf" Banule, the electrical genius for whom Jennings had sent to help him rewind an armature and who therefore had taken Jennings's place as constructing engineer, had the distinction of being the only person Bruce had ever seen who could remove ... Good Indian
There is a saying--and if it is not purely Western, it is at least purely American--that the only good Indian is a dead Indian. In the very teeth of that, and in spite of the fact that he was neither very good, nor an Indian--nor in any sense "dead"... Good News
Pink rolled over in his bed so that he might look--however sleepily--upon his fellows, dressing more or less quietly in the cool dawn-hour. "Say, I got a letter for you, Weary," he yawned, stretching both arms above his head. "I opened it and rea... Grandmother Stark
Except for its chair and bed, the cabin was stripped almost bare. Amid its emptiness of dismantled shelves and walls and floor, only the tiny ancestress still hung in her place, last token of the home that had been. This miniature, tacked against ... Gray Envelopes
It was with more than the usual sinking of heart that Jasper let himself that evening into the beautiful house which Betty and he called their home. Joan's too expressive look had stung the old soreness of his disillusionment. He knew that the hou... Grey Molly
If her soul had been capable of enthusiasm, Marne could have made the trip on schedule time, but she was a burro good for nothing except to carry a pack well nigh half her own weight, live on forage that might have starved a goat, and smell water fi... Guardian Angels Are Riding Point
They plunged into darkness again, rode at a half trot over smooth, hard sand, Bud trusting himself wholly to Marian and to the sagacity of the two horses who could see, he hoped, much better than he himself could. His keen hearing had caught a faint... Guile Against The Wily
Bud liked to have his life run along accustomed lines with a more or less perfect balance of work and play, friendships and enmities. He had grown up with the belief that any mystery is merely a synonym for menace. He had learned to be wary of known... Hail And Farewell
Supper was served in the inner room opening from the corridor lit by a few swinging lanterns of polished horn and a dozen wax candles of sacerdotal size and suggestion. The apartment, though spacious, was low and crypt-like, and was not relieved b... Hands Up
Melissy had been up the Can del Oro for wild poppies in her runabout and had just reached the ranch. She was disposing of her flowers in ollas when Jim Budd, waiter, chambermaid, and odd jobs man at the Bar Double G, appeared in the hall with a fr... Hank's Woman
I Many fish were still in the pool; and though luck seemed to have left me, still I stood at the end of the point, casting and casting my vain line, while the Virginian lay and watched. Noonday's extreme brightness had left the river and the pl... Happy Jack
Big Medicine, Irish and Pink, racing almost abreast, heard a scream behind them and pulled up their horses with short, stiff-legged plunges. A brown horse overtook them; a brown horse, with Happy Jack clinging to the saddle-horn, his body swaying fa... Harlan Joins The Gang
At the edge of the big level, where it merged into the floor of the basin, Harlan drew Purgatory to a halt. For an instant he sat in the saddle scrutinizing a section of buffalo grass that fringed a clump of willows near the almost dry bed of the ... Harlan Rides Alone
Upon the morning of the fourth day following Haydon's visit to the Rancho Seco, a dust cloud developed on the northwestern horizon. Harlan observed the cloud; he had been watching for it since dawn, when he had emerged from the stable door, where ... Harlan Strikes
Joe Barr laughingly replied to Johnny Nelson's growled remarks about the condition of things in general and tried to soothe him, but Johnny was unsoothable. "An' I've been telling him right along that he's got the best of it," complained Jackson ... Harlan Takes Charge
Barbara could not have told why she had not acted upon her determination to ride westward to the Star ranch to acquaint John Haydon with the predicament into which the events of the past few hours had plunged her. She could not have explained why ... Harley Makes A Proposition
Apparently the head of the great trust intended to lose no time in having that business talk with Ridgway, which he had graciously promised the latter. Eaton and his chief were busy over some applications for leases when Smythe came into the room wi... Harley Scores
What Harley had sought in the subornation of Eaton had been as much the moral effect of his defection as the tangible results themselves. If he could shake the confidence of the city and State in the freebooter's victorious star, he would have done ... Harry Conroy At Home
It was late next morning when they got under way; for they had not reached camp until long after midnight, and Wooden Shoes was determined the cattle should have one good feed, and all the water they wanted, to requite them for the hard drive of the... Harry Lossing
THE note-book of Mr. Horatio Armorer, president of our street railways, contained a page of interest to some people in our town, on the occasion of his last visit. He wrote it while the train creaked over the river, and the porter of his Pullman ... Head South And Keep Going
At a lunch wagon down near the water front, Bud stopped and bought two "hot dog" sandwiches and a mug of hot coffee boiled with milk in it and sweetened with three cubes of sugar. "O-oh, boy!" he ejaculated gleefully when he set his teeth into biscuit ... Held Up By Mr Kelly
"'Traveler, what lies over the hill?'" questioned a mischievous voice. Keith, dreaming along a winding, rock-strewn trail in the canyon, looked up quickly and beheld his Heart's Desire sitting calmly upon her horse, ten feet before Redcloud's no... Her Majesty's Rancho
FIVE months brought all that Stillwell had dreamed of, and so many more changes and improvements and innovations that it was as if a magic touch had transformed the old ranch. Madeline and Alfred and Florence had talked over a fitting name, and had ... Her Name Was Rosemary
Andy Green came in from a twenty-hour ride through the Wolf Butte country and learned that another disaster had followed on the heels of the first; that miss Allen had been missing for thirty-six hours. While he bolted what food was handiest in the ... Hidden Valley
Across the desert into the hills, where the sun was setting in a great splash of crimson in the saddle between two distant peaks, a bunch of cows trailed heavily. Their tongues hung out and they panted for water, stretching their necks piteously to ... High And Dry
The counsel to don a garb smacking less of the recent East struck me as sound; for although I was not the only person here in Eastern guise, nevertheless about the majority of the populace there was an easy aggressiveness that my appearance eviden... High-water Mark
When the tide was out on the Dedlow Marsh, its extended dreariness was patent. Its spongy, low-lying surface, sluggish, inky pools, and tortuous sloughs, twisting their slimy way, eel-like, toward the open bay, were all hard facts. So were the few... Higher Than Statute Law
Wade descended the stairs of the hotel and went into the barroom, fuming with rage and chagrin because Helen had seen him in such a temper. Like most men of action, he took pride in his self-control, which seldom failed him, but the villainy of th... His Only Asset
It would be a pleasure to record that Capital found Bruce's personality so irresistible that his need of funds met with instant response, that the dashing picturesqueness of his appearance and charm of his unconventional speech and manner was so f... His Shadow Before
At ten o'clock the following morning, in a rear room of "Balleau's First Chance" saloon--which was directly across the street from the Lamo Eating-House--Luke Deveny and two other men were sitting at a card-table with bottle and glasses between th... His Stock In Trade
"The science of salesmanship is quite as exact as the science of astronomy," said Mr. Gross, casting his eyes down the table to see that he had the attention of the other boarders, "and much more intricate. The successful salesman is as much an ar... Holding The Claim
"Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O," hummed Waffles, sinking the branding-iron in the flank of a calf. The scene was one of great activity and hilarity. Several fires were burning near the huge corral and in them half a dozen irons were getti... Homing Hearts
Jack Kilmeny had not been brought up in the dry sunbaked West for nothing. The winds of the Rockies had entered into his character as well as into his physique. He was a willful man, with a good deal of granite in his make-up. A fighter from his y... Hopalong Keeps His Word
The waters of the Rio Grande slid placidly toward the Gulf, the hot sun branding the sleepy waters with streaks of molten fire. To the north arose from the gray sandy plain the Quitman Mountains, and beyond them lay Bass Ca on. From the latter e... Hopalong Loses A Horse
For a month after their return from the San Miguel, Hopalong and his companions worked with renewed zest, and told and retold the other members of the outfit of their unusual experiences near the Mexican border. Word had come up to them that Martin ... Hopalong Nurses A Grouch
After the excitement incident to the affair at Powers' shack had died down and the Bar-20 outfit worked over its range in the old, placid way, there began to be heard low mutterings, and an air of peevish discontent began to be manifested in various... Hopalong's Decision
Shortly after noon, Hopalong, who had ridden with his head bowed low in meditation, looked up and slapped his thigh. Then he looked at Red and grinned. "Look ahere, Red," he began, "there ain't no rustlers with their headquarters on this God-f... Hostage
The revolution of Todos Santos had to all appearances been effected as peacefully as the gentle Liberator of Quinquinambo could have wished. Two pronunciamientos, rudely printed and posted in the Plaza, and saluted by the fickle garrison of one hu... Houck Takes A Ride
Tolliver rubbed a hand uncertainly over a bristly chin. "Why, what are they doin' that for, Jake?" "Are you the Tolliver girl's father?" asked Larson. "Yes, sir." "Then we got bad news for you. She's sick." "Sick?" the trapper's lips tre... How Happiness Returned To The Lazy A
When Lite rapped with his knuckles on the door of the room where she was waiting, Jean stood with her hands pressed tightly over her face, every muscle rigid with the restraint she was putting upon herself. For Lite this three-day interval had been ... How Tom Connor Went Boring For Oil
One thing was plain at any rate: we could do nothing towards finding the source of the underground stream until the snow cleared off the mountain, and that was likely to be later than usual this year, for the fall had been exceedingly heavy in the... How Trouble Came To The Lazy A
Without going into a deep, psychological discussion of the elements in men's souls that breed events, we may say with truth that the Lazy A ranch was as other ranches in the smooth tenor of its life until one day in June, when the finger of fate wro... Hughie's Emancipation
Hughie rose late next morning, and the hurry and rush of getting off to school in time left him no opportunity to get rid of the little packages in his pocket, that seemed to burn and sting him through his clothes. He determined to keep them safe ... Hunting Big Game
In point of fact, Denver's occupation at that moment was precisely what they had guessed it to be. He was sitting beside Nora Darling in the grand stand, explaining to her the fine points of "roping." Mr. Bob Austin, commonly known as "Texas," was m... I Accept An Offer
We found a small table, one of the several devoted to refreshments for the dancers, in a corner and unoccupied. The affair upon the floor was apparently past history--if it merited even that distinction. The place had resumed its program of dancin... I Cut Loose
I nodded; rebuffing his attentive eyes I stuffed the envelope into my pantaloons pocket. "Good-bye, sir." "Good luck. When you come back remember the Queen." "I'll remember the Queen," said I; and with the envelope smirching my flesh I ste... I Do The Deed
We had camped well beyond a last bunch of the red-shirted graders, so that the thread of a trail wended before, lonely, sand-obscured, leading apparently nowhere, through this desert devoid of human life. Line stakes of the surveyors denoted the g... I Don't Care Much About Girls
"There's no use asking the Injuns to go on the warpath," Gene announced disgustedly, coming out upon the porch where the rest of the boys were foregathered, waiting for the ringing tattoo upon the iron triangle just outside the back door which would... I Go To Rendezvous
The hotel lamps were being lighted by the gnome porter. When I stepped outside twilight had deepened into dusk, the air was almost frosty, and this main street had been made garish by its nightly illumination. It was a strange sight, as I paused... I Go Where Wagalexa Conka Say
That afternoon Ramon joined them, suave as ever and seeming very much at peace with the world and his fellow-beings. He watched the new leading woman make a perilous ride down a steep, rocky point and dash up to camera and on past it where she set h... I Meet Friends
What shall I say of a young man like myself, fresh from the green East of New York and the Hudson River, landed expectant as just aroused from a dream of rare beauty, at this Benton City, Wyoming Territory? The dust, as fine as powder and as white... I Rise In Favor
With that he went forward. So did I; but the barricade at the end of My Lady's seat was intact, and I sat down in my own seat, to keep expectant eye upon her profile--a decided relief amidst that crude melange of people in various stages of hasty ... I Stake Again
They were indistinguishable except as vocal sounds deadened by the impeding fog; but human voices they certainly were. Throwing off her robe she abruptly sat up, seeking, her features tensed with the strain. She beckoned to me. I scuttled over, as... I Stake On The Queen
Jim had disappeared; until when we had made way to another monte table there he was, his hands in his pockets, his cigar half smoked. More of a crowd was here; the voice of the spieler more insistent, yet low-pitched and businesslike. He was a s... I Take A Lesson
From this hour's brief camp, early made, we should have turned southward, to leave the railroad line and cross country for the Overland Stage trail that skirted the southern edge of the worse desert before us. But Captain Hyrum was of different mi... I'd Just As Soon Hang For Nine Men As For One
Baumberger climbed heavily out of the rig, and went lurching drunkenly up the path to the house where the cool shade of the grove was like paradise set close against the boundary of the purgatory of blazing sunshine and scorching sand. He had not go... I'll Never Go Back
A sharp affair indeed was that of this September day!--a fight long talked of on the frontier if soon forgotten in "the States." Obedient to his orders to push to the relief of the imperilled party on the Dry Fork, Ray had made good time to Moccas... I'm Here Neighbor
Moya still rode afternoons with her friends, fished occasionally, and took her regular hand at bridge. But it was unaccountably true that her zest in these amusements was gone. She could give no satisfactory reason for it, but she felt as if somet...