W8976d ''. $ i s I i Iflrf. . ^-,. ^ mil I Ml I Ml 1^1 EJSij T'jir, .,.,,..,, _.<i . . M./it-i .M\NL fXA^,, ...,,,... vNV -7A,., . .../. .t\. ^ONV-SOI^ %a3AiNa-3V^ AVK-UNIVERS/A ^lOS-ANGnfjt, ^ ^-UBRARWk SOl^ .TO% ^ icOF-CAtlFO/5^ F-CAll ? t %Aavaan-^ kOf-CAlH nvD-jo^ : OFCAl!FO^ < k I I wmwrn sun > OTHER STORIES Byr Pauline Wilson Worth Illustrations by* C. A. Friedmann Segnogram Press Los oAngeles 1909 To W. H. D., J. W. D. and P. E. D. Two brave little men and a dear little maid My most gentle critics IN'T never heerd of Death Valley Slim? Well, it's plain thet ye air a stranger in these parts, 'cause ever'body as has been here twenty-four hour has heerd tell of him. "Tell ye about him? Why, certainly, but ye might as well fill your pipe and draw your cheer up comfortable like, 'cause it's a long story, and a strange one ye might be a little inclined to think thet it is stretched a bit, but it ain't it's ever' word gospel truth." Glad of a chance to kill time in the little Ore- gon mining camp, where I had been compelled to stay over Sunday, I filled my pipe and, with my feet on the table, I settled myself back in my chair in front of a cheerful log fire and awaited the story. "Death Valley Slim was about as homely a cuss as you'll ever see; seemed like God had a lot of odd pieces left over and he jist put 'em together and called 'em Slim. He was six foot two in his stockin' feet, he had one game eye thet stared at ye while t'other one looked around, and he had a long, droopin' mustache. Awful awkward, Death Valley Slim was; seemed like his big hands and feet was allus in his way. DEATH VALLEY SLIM "Well sir, thet feller had walked plum acrost the continent; he would stay in one place until he got tired of it, and then git up and stretch his long laigs and strike out fer new diggin's ; he was kinder like thet Injun thet one of the poets tell about. "How did he earn his livin'? Why, man, Death Valley, .could earn a livin' where you couldn't. He"'.ha:d: ; the .finest voice thet ever I heerd and I Jievheerd Aomfe of the best; seemed like all the p'uf tiness* and* -Sweetness thet was left out of his body was put in his voice, and, stranger, he could make a guitar talk. He played and sung in the saloons and he could draw a crowd in less time than it would take to tell it. "He used to work over in the mica mines in Death Valley and when he come here he wouldn't give no name eceptin' Slim, so we all got to callin' him Death Valley Slim, and I reckon they ain't a dozen people here as knows his right name. "I took up with him right from the first, 'cause I liked his big, honest eyes, and I could tell thet underneath all his homeliness was a heart thet was true as steel. Death Valley was a great talker, but after he had left you and you went to think over what he had said to you, you'd find out ez he hadn't told you nothin'; he lived inside of hisself. "Well, sir, one time we had been out to the Palace (thet's one of the saloons where Death Valley used to sing), and I noticed ez how Death was awful quiet like, and I sez to him, 'Death Valley, what's ailin' you tonight? You ain't a gettin' ready to tramp ag'in, be you?' " 'No Dutch,' sez he (he allus called me Dutch ; don't know how it ever got started), 'No, Dutch; I wish to heavens I could git the movin' fever on agin, but there is somethin' thet holds me here &# -Tr7~. : .., y ..... DEATH VALLEY SLIM church, and to Nita, saying thet it is from some one they have helped? You write me out a check fur twenty thousand, and I'll go over to Baker City and git the money tonight and we'll send it from there and they'll never know where it come from and Nita will hev enough so thet she can marry the man she loves.' "Well, sir, Death % Valley Slim grabbed me by the hand and threw a lot into me about allus bein' right where he could find me, and the kind of a friend to hev, and sich rot. "Well, he set right down then and there and writ out a check fer twenty thousan'. He said he wanted two to go to the old man, one to the church, and the rest to Nita, "Cause/ sez he, 'I want her to hev enough to keep her comfortable all her life, and, anyway, Dutch, what good is my money to me unless she kin help me enjoy it?' "We then writ a note which run in this wise : 'Fer Mister John Hayden, Black Cat Camp, Oregon State. 'Dear Sir: Please accept three thousand dol- lars to use as you please fer yourself and church you keep twice as much fer yourself as you keep fer the church from One You Have Helped. "Then we writ another one- 'Fer Miss Juanita Hayden, Black Cat Camp, Oregon State. Dear Miss: Please accept this money as a token of respect from One You Have Helped.' 'P. S. Taint no use to try to find out who sent it 'cause he is dead now. Use it and be happy.' "Well, we fixed the money up and sent it, and the next day the camp was aringin' with the news c>tND OTHER STORIES of the preacher and his daughter agittin' a pile from some unknown person. The next mornin' we heerd as how Nita and the young bookkeeper was agoin' to git married thet night and as how the feller with the long green had hiked off fer the east. "Well, we went down to the Palace thet night and jist as Nita's weddin' bells was aringin', Death Valley Slim started to sing an, say, stranger, I never heerd sich singin' and playin' afore nor sence. Ever' feller in the Palace was cryin' and we wasn't one of us ashamed of it, neither. "He stopped a minute in the middle of a song and then he begun to pick kinder soft and dreamy like on his guitar; then all to once he begun to sing, 'Nita, Juanita, Ask thy soul if we should part; 'Nita, Juanita, Lean thou on my heart.' "All the feelin's thet he had kept bottled up in his big body so long come out in thet song. Didn't seem like it was Death Valley Slim a-singin'; sounded more like an angel; he fergot all about us fellers and his eyes hed a fur away look in 'em. As fer us, we jist stood spellbound. The fellers all said that they never heerd sich singin' in all their days. But I knowed what they didn't know, you see, and I couldn't stand it no longer. I hit the trail." Again my host lapsed into a reverie, but this time with a sad look on his weather-beaten face. Truly, thought I, underneath all this roughness is the place to find the true hearts the friend- ships which last through death. "Well, in a few minutes here come Death Val- ley right on my heels, and he sez, 'Dutch, the DEATH VALLEY SLIM movin' fever is on again, and it's come so strong thet I'm afeerd I won't stop this side of Aus- traly, so I am agoin' to hit the trail tonight. Dutch, if he don't treat her right you'll let me know, won't ye? I'll let ye know where I light. Goodbye, Dutch; don't live too high on the little wad I left under your piller.' "No, I ain't never seen nothin' of him sence. I reckon his great big heart pained him too much when he thought of her to ever try life agin in this camp, but the fellers all remembers him kindly and the camp still talks about the last singin' done in the Palace by Death Valley Slim." UST how she happened to be a resident of Green Gulch Camp no one ever seemed to be able to understand; however, the fact remained that she was there, and the people of the camp, according to the unwritten laws that always exist in a mining camp, asked no ques- tions. "The Princess" she had been named and if she had any other name she herself was unable to tell you what it was. A tiny little slip of a girl with tangled yellow curls and big deep blue eyes eyes which had kept many a mean character in Green Gulch from becoming meaner.. A verita- ble angel of the camp she had been since her ap- pearance there when just a prattling babe. It would be a hard task to find any two people more unlike than the Princess and her "Daddy," as she had lovingly nicknamed him. Jim Brad- shaw was perhaps the most unprepossessing man in the whole country. Gruff and unfriendly, si- lent and sullen, he seemed to all but the Princess ; in her presence he was a changed man; his attitude was all tenderness and solicitude, and sometimes as he looked at her one could note a moisture about his eyes which might have been taken for tears. DEATH VALLEY SLIM As the years went by and the Princess grew into beautiful womanhood beautiful even be- yond all expectations, Jim Bradshaw, instead of growing mellowed and softened, as one would suppose, grew morbid, depressed and restless. Even the Princess, who was accustomed to his moods, was puzzled, and time and again would entreat him to tell her what was on his mind. "Daddy, I know something is worrying you, and am I not your little comforter? I want you to confide in me and let me help to smooth the wrinkles from your dear old brow. You are not worrying over Ben's love affairs, are you? Who knows? Maybe some day I will tell him that I love him as much as he does me." And the Prin- cess colored prettily from one dainty pink ear to the other. "Little gal" Jim started out slowly as if it were an awful task which he had before him, and yet he knew it was his duty, and when Jim Brad- shaw knew it as his duty to do a thing it was usually done. "Little gal, my old heart nigh breaks because I have to tell you this, but I must do it I will start from the first and won't leave nothin' un- said, even if it puts me in the worst light that shifts." "Daddy, why do you talk that way? As if you could ever say anything that would put you in any light but that of the most tender and most thoughtful " "Not so fast, little un, not so fast " Jim Brad- shaw held up his hand as if to ward off a blow. "You mustn't say anything you'll have to back up on. Listen! Nineteen year ago, when I was a-livin' back in the states, a feller come to me an' he says: 'J im Bradshaw, you are the meanes' man in the state of Maine, an' I've got a job for OTHER STORIES you thet will jist about suit your character. It'll pay you plenty, and all you've got to do is to give me your word .thet you'll carry out my di- rections. Jim Bradshaw, you've got only one feature thet ain't clean to the bad, and thet's your word; once given, hell couldn't break it!'" "But, Daddy " "Don't interrupt me, tyke, I must keep a-goin' now that I've started he says: 'Jim Bradshaw, onct I loved a woman and she loved me. Do you know what's contained in them eight words, Jim? They embody ever'thing this earth ever held or could hope to hold, and part of heaven jist them eight words, "Onct I loved a woman and she loved me." But I'm a-wanderin' away from my story. " 'Jist a little while before our weddin' day a man came to town from some place in England. He wa'n't a man ; he was a blamed poor imitation of one, but we got it straight goods thet he was titled. Thet is, he didn't have no title then, as he had a brother older than him, but the fact that some day he would maybe have a title made all the gals forgit what a pup he was. " 'Of course he picked out the gal thet belonged to me, 'cause she was the purtiest, sweetest and best that ever trod dirt, and her pa was purty well heeled. " 'It didn't take long for him to get all kinds qf idees into her head about his home in England, and how some day she would be a duchess, and the little gal run away one night and married him. Jim, two year ago she died died with a broken heart, and she left a little un jist the pic- ture of her ; and Jim, as mean as that man treated that little tyke's mother, he worships the child. " 'Kin you see my revenge? He took away all that I ever loved on this earth, now I'm a-goin' DEATH VALLEY SLIM to take away all he ever loved. What I want you to do is to kidnap this young un and take her out into some God-forsaken country where nobody'll find you, where they won't ever think of lookin' for you. I want you to keep her there in igno- rance of everything; don't let her go to school; don't let her have no book learnin' of any kind, and Jim, when I am dead your contract ends then you can do as you please to, but as long as I am a-livin' you're bound.' "Little gal," Jim spoke with a trembling voice, his great frame shaking like a reed in the wind, "thet man died this day, month." The Princess sat dazed. "Daddy," she whis- pered, "that isn't me, is it?" The old man bent his head. "But, Daddy, if you gave him your word that you would not educate me, why did you do it?" "My contract was thet you shouldn't go to school, thet you shouldn't have no book learnin'. I brought a teacher to you; she didn't teach you one word out of books; all you know has been told to you. Wa'n't it enough fer me to bring you out into this wild place where you couldn't have no comforts of any kind, where you'd never see any people of your own class wa'n't it enough to do that instead of raisin' you to be like 'em?" " 'Course you'll be green in the eyes of your pa's people, but, thank heaven, it's the kind of greenness that will wear off, because your quick wit can catch up all they knew before they have time to see it." "You don't mean you're going to send me to him, do you, Daddy? He doesn't need to know where I am, does he? Why can't you " "Yes, he knows where you are, 'cause I writ and told him four weeks ago. He'll be here to- -: OTHER STORIES morrow to take you back to the home you should uv been in all this time ; to take you back among the people you belong among, to the comforts and luxuries you was born to he's a duke, little un, he's a duke ! "You won't never get to see your old Daddy any more, but all he asks is for you not to con- demn him too much, 'cause he loves you more than the earth or the sky, and you've made a man out of him ; you've made a man out of the biggest villain in the state of Maine!" The Princess was crying, wildly, with a grief such as she had never known before. "Daddy," she sobbed, "why did you let him know? I don't want to go I want to stay here always I want my everyday duties to make a difference in some- body's comfort. I love these mountains and the kind old hearts in Green Gulch. It isn't right that I should be raised to this life and suddenly be torn up and transplanted to another world. Do you think that if you tore up one of our beau- tiful ferns from its cool nook under a rock and planted it under the blaze of Arizona's sun it would live? You see, Daddy, you and Ben " "Tyke you'll have to go. He's your father; you are all he's got and it means a heap to you. You'll have everything you could wish for you'll have servants on ever' hand, jist achin' to do your biddin', and admirers by the houseful. You won't be a duchess you'll be a queen!" Jim Bradshaw leaned over with his head be- tween his great brown hands and muttered to himself, "My mother usto tell me some kind of a story when I was a striplin' about a man not hav- ing any greater love than to die for a feller but dyin's easy easy it's the livin' that sticks." DEATH VALLEY SLIM The most exciting day Green Gulch ever ex- perienced was the day that a real duke visited it and carried away with him the Princess. Everybody in the camp gathered around the stage coach for a last good-bye. Old men who had not walked farther than a few steps at a time for years; children who had never received any- thing but the tenderest kindness from her hands; the hard-working housewives of the camp, giving dabs at their eyes with their freshly laundered aprons ; horny-handed miners who had always re- ceived a pleasant greeting when they passed her cabin. The Princess, changed not a whit by her rise from a cabin to a palace, bade each one good- bye in the gracious manner which had endeared her to them all, while her father looked upon the motley crowd with evident disgust. Two people were absent at the last farewell. The Princess watched in vain for them, and even after the coach had started, she watched as far as her eyes could reach, but Jim Bradshaw and Ben Stanton were nowhere to be seen. The weeks dragged into months, and Jim Brad- shaw, humbled and cast down, showing plainly that man does not wait until the next world for all of his punishment, was seen every day going to and from his work. Where at one time he was so gruff and surly he was now kindly and genial ; the children of the camp lost their fear of him and grew to know him as their friend. One evening he came home very much de- pressed ; all day long his thoughts had been with the Princess. A letter which he had received from her only a few days before had opened the wound. It described the splendor of her sur- roundings, and the sights she was seeing with all t>lND OTHER STORIES of the freshness of her young soul. But through the whole letter a strain of homesickness ran, an undercurrent, as it were, which would have gone unnoticed by anyone else save Jim Bradshaw. In his absent-mindedness he failed to notice the suppressed excitement of the camp. Faces peer- ing at him from the windows did not attract his attention. Even when he saw a light glimmering from his window he mentally commented that Ben was seeking his old haunts again. And he was not mistaken, for Ben was wait- ing for him, but just behind him, peeking around in the same mischievous way that he had loved so much, was a face wreathed with yellow curls, and a voice that seemed to come out of the dreams he had had all day, said, "Daddy, the fern didn't like Arizona's sun." The Princess had returned unto her own. HE desert sun, sinking over the horizon, left a glory of crimson, turquoise and gold, changing as if by magic, the monotonous brown of the barren hills to such a beauty as defies the artist's uttermost skill. The last rays lingered caressingly upon a pile of ore ore that looked as if it were solidified sunbeams, for it glittered and smiled back at the sun, seem- ingly recognizing relationship ore with riches untold, laid bare by the faithful pick of the weary, almost discouraged prospectors. Gold enough in sight to make a man mad unbounded wealth, which meant the reward of years of privation and hardships and the realization of long deferred hopes. By the side of this wonderful gift of Mother Earth stood two men the one, upright and com- pelling, with a steady blue eye that could look squarely at any man; the other, stooped and shrinking, with a shifting eye that evaded the di- rect look of his own dog. They looked into one another's eyes, each feel- ing the question that was in the other's mind. The taller man spoke first: "I guess it's up to us, Hank; what do you think?" The little man shifted from one foot to the other. "What's up to us? Nothing but to cash in a little of this dope we've hit, I reckon." "Now, don't try to retrench, Hank, because that don't go with me. You know when you tried to do away with me last winter, when you thought you had found the pay dirt, you queered yourself for a partner, and it's only been the fear of this .45 that has kept you decent this long. This little document, signed up by us both, is what we go on now. I am willing to give you a square deal on it and we'll start tonight. I will just read this over before we start. Understand you keep your hand out of reach of this paper. If you make a move while I'm reading it, I'll plug you." The man sullenly moved away a few yards, while the other produced from a buckskin wallet a piece of brown paper, from which he read: "We, the undersigned, do make this agreement: That when we uncover pay ore we will start from this camp at the same time, going in whatever direction we choose, and that the first man who places upon the dump ten thousand dollars ($10,000) he shall be the sole owner of the aforesaid DEATH VALLEY SLIM claim. The other party agrees to accept the ten thousand dollars as payment in full for his share. "Signed PRICE HOWARD. HENRY BASHFORD." "I think you understand that all right, Hank. Of course, not being versed in law, it possibly does not sound as legal, or has nbt as much form as it should have, but I think it will hold without any trouble. There is no use to mince matters any, Hank we are partners, but not friends. There is no need for me to tell you my opinion of you; you know what that is. You may be hung some day for murder, but never for kill- ing a man. The man who falls from your gun will have the bullet in his back." "Guess you haven't much edge to go on. If I remember correctly, some ten years ago you wasn't above a little game of chance, with a rattle of chips to it, yourself." "In this country it isn't what a man once was, Hank, it's what he now is. But we are wasting time. It is now half past four at five we leave this camp. I don't know which way you are go- ing. I am going to Goldfield. We will both have to walk, but we can come back any way that we see fit." The men worked silently, covering the ore so recently uncovered, making the camp look like an abandoned one. Just at five each man swung his canteen over, his shoulder and faced in opposite directions. Hank called back over his shoulder: "Kid, I'm thinking that you'll have a run for your money. I've got eight miles the best of you." Howard volunteered no answer, but struck out with long, easy strides across the desert. Thirty miles against Hank's twenty-two. Would he make it? The months of prospecting, with their days OTHER STORIES and days of walking, were now showing their ef- fect, and mile after mile was covered without causing any fatigue. The moon rose after a while, drenching in a soft, white blaze the stretch of echoless, shadow- less waste that lay before, taking away a part of the loneliness that enveloped him. Surely he was in a world apart, a great recumbent, sleeping world; not a leaf or twig to catch the faint south wind; not a bird, or any living thing to murmur drowsily at his passing. But, strange to say, the man's thoughts were far from the scene before him, far from his treacherous partner, and far from the new wealth that was hanging in the bal- ance. All these things vanished, as had the col- ors of the sunset, and left his thoughts in a little four-roomed adobe house in the town toward which his face was set. There he could see a brown-eyed, brown-haired girl, with a sweet, wistful face. He was wondering whether he dared delay long enough to see her and get one kiss from the pure, sweet lips, but he knew that even ten minutes lost might mean failure and the strong heart within him decided that his duty lay in securing that fortune that he might reward her patient waiting, faith and loyalty. His muscles grew sore and finally numb until his whole body was like some automatic machine that could not stop. The myriad indefinable noises seemed to be chanting to him, "Hurry! hurry!" The sand grew heavy and his feet heav- ier; he wondered momentarily where he was go- ing then he remembered and he wondered how many weeks he had been walking. Once a coyote barked and it, too, said "Hurry !" and he tried to walk faster. Reaching into his hip pocket for his handker- chief, he felt the specimens he was carrying in, and the contact with them gave him renewed -mi DEATH VALLEY SLIM courage. The sharp, cold air struck him, and shivering, he drew his coat together and buttoned it, wondering why he had not thought of it be- fore. At last the lights of Goldfield came into sight and his heart leaped. Only a few more miles, but each mile now seemed a league. On and on he pressed until Main street was reached, then he stopped. He pulled out his watch and noted the time. In a dazed way he stood watching the second-hand revolving, then he felt a friendly slap on the shoulder and heard a familiar voice saying: "Hello, Price, old man! When did you get in? How's the prospect? You look fagged out." "George !" His hand grasped that of his friend in an iron grasp. "You are the man I have walked thirty miles to see. I need you." "All right. I'm yours to command. But don't stand here! Come up to my office. You haven't been here since this building was put up, have you?" Howard sank gratefully into a luxurious office chair, and immediately began to tell his story to his friend. When he had finished, he said, "Can you get ten thousand dollars for me inside of an hour?" The serenity of his friend was as unruffled as if he had been asked the time of day or to have a cigar. He sat for a moment in deep thought and then answered, "I will have to hustle a little, if I do. Don't suppose a check would do, would it?" "No, it has to be currency. And for God's sake, hurry ! Hank has eight miles the best of me, and it's millions at stake millions!" "There's a bottle of 'Old Taylor' in the other room ; you'd better take a drop. I'll be back soon. Make yourself comfortable." '*** OTHER STORIES The last few words were all but lost on How- ard, who was already falling asleep. He was aroused in a short time by his friend's voice say- ing, "Here you are, old boy ! A bunch of fellows were going into 'Frisco in the morning and I just delayed them one day. What they had made a pretty neat jack-pot, and it was easy to make up the rest. My machine will be here in a minute and you can sleep in the back seat. I will wake you up only long enough to get directions." Howard put the packet of bills on the inside of his flannel shirt, then gave his hand to his friend. "Thank you, old man, and thank you for the offer of the machine; but there is a possibility of even the best automobile breaking down, and there is no possibility of my little pinto's breaking down. I'll 'phone to the stable and they'll have her ready by the time I get there. You know I left her here for for the use of a friend of mine. I would rather trust to a fagged-out horse than a disabled automobile. George, what was that you said about a jack-pot? Oh yes, I remember. Good bye, George ! If I get to the Sunbeam first, you're half and half. If Hank gets there first, I'll bring this back." Down the familiar street, past the Nixon block, with a glance at the Palm restaurant, where he had had many jolly dinners, Howard hurried. A work spoken in jest burned in his brain, and he repeated to himself, "Jack-pot." A few minutes' walk brought him to the door of the Northern. The music and the brilliancy of its lights attracted him compelled him to en- ter. The months of exile from everything that had the semblance of recreation or enjoyment crowded before him, leading him to forget for the moment that delay was ruin, and he forced his way into a game. He forgot the bed of gold in the desert ; he forgot the partner whose soul ^r *=- DEATH VALLEY SLIM was as black as the spades that he held in his hand; he even forgot the wistful brown eyes that had never been out of his mind for a moment since he had first seen them. He began to lose and the excitement grew in- tense. The men all knew that he was not a "play- ing man," and a crowd of onlookers soon gath- ered around. Gradually his pile of chips began to dwindle down. The fever got into his blood, and he grew reckless. Thrusting his hand into the bosom of his shirt, he drew forth a thick packet. Throw- ing it down on the table, he exclaimed, "There is ten thousand dollars in bills ! Now let's see if we can't have a real game!" Something about his appearance made the other players hesitate as though to decline the challenge, seeing which he spoke again this time with a hardly concealed sneer: "Well, I'd never be a quitter, whatever else I was." The blood rushed to the face of one of his op- ponents. "Quitter? Hell! I'll just cut the cards with you, best two in three, for the ten thousand." This time it was Howard's turn to hesitate, but for an instant only. Then he began to shuffle the cards. A few moments later he arose unsteadily and walked out. Once more in the open air, with the cool breeze fanning his hot temples, he remem- bered, and with a groan, he turned and staggered down the street. His pinto hitched in the block below, whinnied at the sight of him. He went up to her and laid his head against her white face. "Pinto," he said, his voice choking with emo- tion, "you mustn't love me any more, I'm not fit for anybody to love I am a traitor and worse. I've heard that we've all got to be fools once in c>lND OTHER STORIES our lives, but hooted at the idea; always main- tained that a man could always be a man. God, why couldn't I have gotten mine when it didn't matter so much?" In answer the pony rubbed her nose against his sleeve, caressingly, as if to say, "You have never been anything but a friend to me; why should I care what you have done otherwise?" In a moment his whole attitude changed. He squared his shoulders, and with his head erect he started at a brisk pace up the street. At the foot of the stairs of the building that he had left an hour before, he stopped ; then again squaring his shoulders he mounted the stairs and gave a thundering knock on his friend's door. Upon receiving no answer he pulled out his watch. Of course, George would not be in his office at that hour. He turned and slowly retraced his steps. When he reached the street, he heard the puffing of an automobile, and to his intense relief he saw his friend jump out and rush toward him. "Howard, we thought you had met with foul play. We saw the pinto still tied down there, and we have been searching all the dark corners for you. For God's sake, boy, you are as white as a ghost! What's happened?" "Come up to the office and I'll tell you. You didn't look in the darkest corner. Don't touch me I'm not fit for anybody to touch. George, I've taken my trip up Fool's Hill, all in one hour. I never was attracted to the Hill until it meant everything that the world holds then I went up with full steam. I gambled away your ten thous- and." George coolly unlocked the office door and they went in. "Is that all?" "Is that all? God, man, what more could it be? ''A.'--. DEATH VALLEY SLIM Isn't that enough? After ten years, too! You'd think a fellow could down the devil himself in that time. But there's a chance for me to make good to you, even though I've thrown away my own chance. Hank's reputation is against his raising money quickly he has exploited too many wild-cats." Once more pulling out the contract, he read: " 'The first man who places upon the dump ten thousand dollars ($10,000) he shall be the sole owner of the aforesaid claim.' You see that doesn't specify that it has got to be Hank or me it says 'the first man.' You can put it on there yourself as well as I can. I'll show you the way and the claim is yours." George swung his chair around suddenly and looked Howard square in the eye. "Price How- ard," he said slowly, "some people think I haven't the morals that I should have, and maybe I haven't. But as low as they might think me or as mean as I might be, I have never been known to turn on a friend. I think my credit is good at the Northern for ten thousand I always find them pretty white people and I know my car is good for thirty miles in forty minutes. You go and wake up Jack, while I go to the Northern, and he can run you out. I'd go myself, but I'm too blamed sleepy. I'll attend to the pinto when you're gone." Over the same road that he had traveled so wearily a few hours past, Price Howard sped in a magnificent automobile built especially for the desert roads. The chauffeur who knew every bolt and screw in the machine, handled it with a master hand and urged it on and on. With an almost human ef- fort the machine responded, skimming over the sunbaked desert, super-heated by drinking in the heat of ten thousand summer suns. .* cAND OTHER STORIES When the last hill was rounded and the camp came into sight, Howard leaned forward, clutch- ing the wheel. The sight which met his eyes caused him to sink down into the seat with an ashen face. A drooping, worn-out horse was tied to the tent-stake and Hank was sitting on the dump! Upon the approach of the automobile Hank sat up, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Well," he drawled, "did you get the coin?" "No need to ask that you are here first, and the claim is yours." "You are dead right about me bein' here first, but I reckon you are mistaken about the claim a-bein' mine." "What?" "I said that you was mistaken about the claim a-bein' mine, because I didn't raise no money." "Hank Bashford, you fool with me and I'll kill you. I am in no mood for jokes. We will settle up this deal and I will get out just as we agreed." "I ain't a-foolin', Price; wish to God I was, but I found that you wasn't the only one that mis- trusted me. The man I was dependin' on was out of town." Howard stood as if turned to stone. The cer- tainty that he had won, brought up so suddenly against the previous certainty that he had lost, stunned him. His senses had undergone a thous- and shocks and strains within the last twenty- four hours, until they seemed impervious to any further emotion. Mechanically he held out the bag containing the money. "You can count it, Hank, and see if it is all there." "Do you say that it is all there?" "All I have is my friend's word that it is, and that is enough for me." "Well, I reckon it's enough for me, too," and, tr" / , \.: '" / DEATH VALLEY SLIM stuffing the bag into his pocket, he went on: "I wish you luck, Kid! You are on the square. Shake. Good bye!" Howard watched him walk away, his head down, and a dejected droop to his shoulders, and a wave of pity swept over him. The night, with all of its horrors, came up before him, and he muttered under his breath, "There is so much bad in the best of us, and so much good in the worst of us " Then, coming to himself with a start, he called, "Hank, Hank. Just a minute! I want to say that when this mine is sold, you will find one-fourth of the money deposited to your credit in Cook's Bank. The half goes to the man who raised that money you have in your pocket. By the way, Hank, you'd better not hit out across this lonesome country without a gun. Here's mine take it along." Hank gulped. "You'd trust me with a gun, and you unarmed?" For answer Howard drew the trusty .45 and handed it over to Hank without a word. Then, starting toward the tent, he said: "Let's have some breakfast, boys! I wonder, Hank, if you'd mind staying here while I go to town. There is a a party, over there, whom I haven't seen for a year and I have a little story I want to tell to her. Would you mind staying?" "I'd stay in an egg shell for you, Kid. But say I don't want more out of this thing than you are getting. You take this bag back to your friend, and tell him that he's share and share alike with us. And, Kid, you might just mention to him that there don't have to be no signed con- tract to that effect, because, from now on, Hank Bashford's word will be as good as any man's bond. You know in this country it ain't what a man once was it's what he is now." "You're dead right, Hank. We're friends." HE sun rose slowly over the hills almost cautiously, as if it were infringing upon some domain other than its own, for the ground was covered with snow. The glittering trees and shrubs were sparkling with snow, and, as far as the eye could reach, nothing could be seen but snow. A snow storm on the Fourth of July! The lit- tle mining camp had survived many and varied experiences, but this was the first time in its his- tory that it had looked upon a white earth on the Fourth of July. Shorty Roberts arose with a stretch and a yawn and looked out of the tiny window of his cabin in amazement. "By all that's strange and uncertain, if we ain't havin* a white Fourth! Hurrah for the glorious Fourth ! Wake up, there, you unpatriotic piece of human natur, and let's have a sleigh ride." Barr dander, the "unpatriotic piece of human natur," got up reluctantly and, rubbing his eyes in a vain effort at clearing his vision, drawled, "Well, it's a sure thing we never lack for excite- ment in this camp. If we run out of material ourselves, Nature takes a hand and surprises us. This will probably be the occasion of a certain DEATH VALLEY SLIM young feller I am acquainted with a dismountin' from the high horse he got on to some four year ago." Shorty, whose six feet of stature belied his nick- name, colored like a schoolgirl as a wave of rec- ollection swept over him. Whether it was a re- minder of something pleasant or unpleasant it would have been hard to determine, as his face did not betray him. "Crackey!" he finally ejaculated, "I'd plum for- got all about that. Barr, you've got entirely too good a memory for the welfare of your friends. I don't just exactly recollect the particulars of that resolve, and don't know as I want to." "Well, I think I can help you out on the re- membrance part. I've got a pretty good pictur in my mind of a high-tempered spit-fired chap a makin' a remark that 'not till snow fell on the Fourth of July' " "Oh, I recollect that all right, and I know that a feller's word has got to be as good as his bond out here; but, Barr, nobody but you knows I made that remark " "Don't you fool yourself. There's one more as knows it, and it's my opinion that if prayers is answered they've had somethin' to do with the inclemency of the weather this mornin'." "Do you think She remembers? Do you reckon, Barr, that She would be lookin' for me this mor- ning? Do you s'pose it would make any differ- ence if I didn't show up?" "This ain't my day to reckon, but I do reckon this much, that if a man ain't man enough to keep his word he can't bunk with me no longer, even if he has feasted and famined with me for the last fifteen year. Another thing I reckon is that spuds and bacon look good to me, but I ain't one of them raw food cranks. I prefer 'em to go through their old fashioned process of cookin'. Get busy cAND OTHER STORIES put on the coffee pot while I peel the spuds. This pay streak business ain't agreein' with you." Shorty, for once, was not talkative. The prep- arations for breakfast went on without his as- sistance; nor did he come out of his reverie until Barr had spoken to him twice and had shoved a cup of steaming coffee at his elbow. Looking over the outlay for breakfast, he shook his head. "Don't feel much like eatin' this mor- ning. This freak of the elements has kind of up- set me. Barr, have you seen Her lately?" Barr leisurely sipped his coffee and wiped his mustache methodically before he answered. "Thought you'd get around to it after so long a time. Yep, I seen her the last time I was over the hill. She gets better lookin' ever day. They tell me she ain't havin' the easiest time in the world since her school has dropped off so. You know when the Wilkins and the Simpsons went away it left only nine children, which is a pretty poor assay. But I don't reckon she needs to worry much, for they tell me that the feller from the city wants to marry her as soon as school's out. Do you know, I shouldn't wonder but it would be a good scheme for her to tack on to him. He certainly ain't short on cash." His eyes nar- rowed into slits, and he peered at Shorty through the blue rings of smoke that curled from his pipe. Shorty squirmed. "He's prob'ly goin' to take her somewhere to- day." His eyes scanned Barr's in the hope of a refutation of this 'statement, but Barr was relent- less. "Shouldn't wonder. He'd be a pretty slow proposition if he wasn't. Don't think from what I can collect that he's a dead one. However, that don't concern the remark you made some four year ago, that not till it snowed on the Fourth of July would you ask that sweet little DEATH VALLEY SLIM scrap of a gal to forgive you for bein' such a blamed idiot. If my eyes don't deceive me, I'm thinkin' that the time has come." He struck another match and slowly relighted his pipe, resuming his conversation, but speaking as though to himself. "A gal as is attractive don't have to waste her life a mournin' over one man as prefers to be an idiot. There's too many men in this world that knows how to appreciate a good woman's love. (There's durned few that knows how rare real love is.) Of course, four year is 'bout time enough for anybody to forget, and then time of- ten changes a feller's taste. Now a few year ago nothin' but Duke's Mixture would do for me, but now I won't smoke nothin' but Bull Dur- ham." "That's all true, Barr, but a long time ago I read a poem about a woman that didn't care, and you know when She turned me down I didn't have a cent to bless myself with, while now " Barr Clander jerked his chair around suddenly, causing the smoldering tobacco in his pipe to scatter over the remainder of the breakfast. He eyed Shorty for a moment in silence, then said, "And all these years I've given you credit for a sound mind. Shorty, them words ain't worthy of you, nor of anybody that knows her. If she'd a wanted money, reckon she could have married Newt Ames when he was so crazy over her, and I'm of the opinion that she wouldn't keep that city chap a waitin' so long if she was so allfired fond of cash." Shorty's eyes flashed. "First I knew of Newt Ames' shinin' up to her. He ain't worthy to tie her shoe strings. What do you know about it?" "Never mind what I know about it. If I was you I'd lose no time a saddlin' Bluestreak and I'd hit the other side of that hill before the sun OTHER STORIES could melt off that little patch of snow. It's so small, anyways, it's got you guessin' whether it's frost or alkali." Shorty shook the ashes out of his pipe and put it in his pocket. Then he walked over to the looking glass and surveyed himself. "Guess I'll shave, and you might trim my hair a trifle. This being the Fourth, a feller ought to kind of dress up a little." When, finally fixed in a manner pleasing to himself, Shorty galloped away, Barr went into the cabin and indulged in a hearty laugh; "Reckon there ain't any bigger fools in the world than them that's in love. They have to be han- dled different, too. Some has to be pushed along all the time and encouraged, while the others has to be let alone; some has to be handled rough and be scared, while others has to be handled tender; but they all come out at the same place in the final clean-up." The morning passed away slowly for Clander. The sun had been victor over the Snow King and a tiny patch in some shady corner was all the evidence left that there had been any snow. Clander had eaten a solitary dinner, and bade fair to eat a solitary supper and he wondered. As the day waned he began to worry. He loved Shorty with the love of a David, and, knowing that the outcome of his quest meant everything to him, feared the consequences of a disappoint- ment. His imagination ran riot. He pictured all sorts of impossible things until he could do nothing but pace the floor of the cabin. Pipe after pipe of tobacco was consumed absent mind- edly, while the last spark of fire in the sheet iron stove flickered and went out. Still the anxious friend paced the cabin, stopping once in a while to scan the winding mountain road for some mov- ing object. DEATH VALLEY SLIM At length, unable to control his impatience any longer, he jerked his coat off the hook, hastily latched the cabin door and in an incredibly short time was in his saddle, starting over the same trail that Shorty had traveled in the early mor- ning. His journey was suddenly interrupted by a vision from the hill-top which caused his kindly, weather-beaten old face to radiate with pleasure, for the hill-side was literally covered with people in holiday dress. In the fore-front beamed the smiling face of Shorty, who looked with tender devotion on the sweet faced girl beside him. One of the boys rode ahead of the crowd, and hastened to enlighten Clander regarding the unu- sual procession. "You see," he said, "they wouldn't have the weddin' in town lest you was there, and we thought that time we got over here and back with you it would make it pretty late, so we all just come along and we're goin' to have an outdoor affair right here. That's her ma and the preacher in the buck-board yonder. They's only two people left in camp and that's the night marshal and the city chap, and I reckon the city chap was too busy packin* that flat valise of his'n to come along. You ain't goin' anywhere, are you, Barr?" "Nope just gettin' back ... I think, Shorty, we might change the name of the 'Little Queen' to the 'Fourth of July, Consolidated.' " Shorty grasped Barr's hand with a grip of iron and said, "Anything you suggest is O. K., Barr. You're the pure stuff." Then, dropping his voice to a whisper, he said, "There wasn't a flake of snow on the other side of the hill this morning." And Barr, as he housed his horse for the night, muttered to himself, "and some has to be han- dled rough and be scared." SLIPPY'S SALUTfc jLIPPY was pondering. A very unusual thing for Slippy, who was commonly of a merry, happy-go-lucky turn of mind; but wrinkles of perplexity were gathering be- tween his eyes and once in a while his dirty little fingers scratched his head thoughtfully. "Don't see why my pal couldn't have shots fired over his grave on Dec'ration day same as the others. He was a soldier, I know, 'cause he used to tell me stories about fightin', but that man said that he wore the wrong color of clothes. Don't see why that would make any difference; Mr. Benton wears black clothes and Mr. Strong wears brown ones and they are both preachers. Anyway, my pal has got to have shots fired over him." Slippy rose from his knees where he had been absent-mindedly rolling marbles and with deter- mination in his face started for the nearby store. "Please, how much is shot-guns worth?" "What kind of a gun do you want, sonny? They range in price. What do you want to shoot?" The clerk looked down upon the bit of humanity with an amused look upon his face. DEATH VALLEY SLIM "Oh, I didn't want to shoot nothin' just want to shoot in the air," Slippy faltered. "I see, you want an airgun; we can give you a little beauty for a dollar and a half." A dollar and a half! Slippy almost lost his breath. He had never had a dollar and a half of his own in all of his short life. Then Slippy had an idea. "Don't want a boy for to work, do you?" "Don't know, sonny. Might ask the boss. He's in the back of the store behind his news- paper." Once again Slippy gathered his courage to- gether and sought the "boss." "You don't want a boy for to work, do you?" The boss looked over his glasses and regarded Slippy curiously. "Whose boy are you? What's your name? Your face looks familiar." "I am not anybody's boy since my grandfather died he was my pal. My name is Thomas Dud- ley, same as his was, but they call me Slippy 'cause I'm so little." "So you are old Tom Dudley's grandson, are you ? Well, my boy, if you leave a record as good as his when you leave this world, you will have done well. The only thing that he ever did in his life that was wrong was to fight for the South and then he thought he was right." "He never did nothin' that was wrong, and I don't want to work in your old store!" Slippy's eyes flashed and his pale cheeks burned. The "boss" chuckled. "Tom, for all the world, just the way he talked when we tried to tell him he was on the wrong side. I guess you want to be my errand boy I will give you a dollar a week. How would that suit you?" Slippy's indignation vanished as quickly as it had come. A dollar a week, and two weeks until Decoration day! He could buy a flag, too. He never had dreamed of such wealth, so with a wil- cAND OTHER STORIES lingness born of a happy spirit, Slippy went about his new duties. The little town of Marion was a very patriotic one and on this Decoration day she was doing herself proud in the Governor's honor. The Gov- ernor claimed Marion for his birthplace and this was his first visit to his old home since his boy- hood and the little town, as proud of their chief executive as a man, as they were of his position, was putting itself forward in its best dress. Never had the day been so glorious ; never had the flowers been so profuse or the music so stir- ring and never had the speeches been so eloquent. The "boss," who had grown to be Slippy's idol, was very much in need of Slippy's aid, but Slippy was nowhere to be found. "Strange where that little imp could be. Oh, I guess he is out with that new air-gun he bought last night. A boy with a new gun can no more be depended upon than a newly-engaged man. Still, I can't under- stand how he could forget Decoration day when he thinks so much of the memory of his pal, but boys will be boys." When the small company of veterans marched into the cemetery their eyes were at once at- tracted toward a lonely grave, beside which stood a tiny slip of a boy holding an air-gun in position to fire. At the head of the grave proudly floated the stars and stripes and around the headstone was tied a gray ribbon. The Governor turned a questioning eye to the captain of the company, who was Slippy's "boss," and he stepped forward with a salute and told Slippy's story, simply, but in a way that hushed the crowd about him and caused the Governor to draw his hand across his eyes. Then the Governor did a very unusual thing. "Captain Morgan," he said, "I relieve you of your command; for the time being I am in command. ,K J DEATH VALLEY SLIM Company, attention; to the right; march!" And before the people hardly understood his move- ments the company was lined up beside the grave of their old friend and enemy and the salute that was fired over his grave was almost drowned by the deafening cheers of the people. The Governor then stepped forward and unty- ing the gray ribbon from the headstone, retied it around the staff of the flag and holding up his hand to silence the crowd he said : "On a day like this we remember only the devotion to principle and the valor of our soldiers wherever they have fought or fallen. We are today led by a little child to realize that we are one people and at last the Blue and the Gray blend in perfect harmony." As Slippy crept off by himself with his face beaming, he once again mused: "Guess that pleased Him. Fired shots over Him first. I didn't think clothes would make any difference to the Governor. I like the Governor. He shook hands with me and told me that ever' Dec'ration day he'd see that they fired shots over my pal's grave. I'm glad." (HE stragglers around the postoffice at Mooney Flat had found a subject of great interest to discuss. They were gathered together in a confidential manner, some of them whittling a little more vigorously in honor of the occasion, and others chewing their tobacco with perhaps a little more ve- hemence than before. When they were finally settled in their accustomed places, with a look of anxious expectancy upon each face, they turned toward Mart Stewart, who was the informer of the neighborhood. Mart, recogniz- ing the look, shifted his cud of tobacco to the other side of his mouth, recrossed his legs and began "Reckon there'll be some doin's round Mooney after today's stage. I heard down in the valley last night that the old man Forbes was just rantin' for fair." "Who's tellin' you, Mart?" Bob Robinson drew his soap box a little closer to Mart, as he spoke. Bob ran a close second to Mart when it came to the matter of neighborhood information. "Why, I was over to Pineville yesterday and seen the kid's cousin, and he said that the kid was in pretty hard luck. It seerns that he fell in love with a girl when he was away to college. -.wj'TS '> ..'* DEATH VALLEY SLIM From what I can gather she is a stunner for looks and a right nice girl all around, but you know how old man Forbes has always said that no son of his should ever marry a city girl." "I heard him say with his own mouth," broke in Jud Baines, "that city girls wasn't fit for nothin' but to go to the theayters and eat choc- olate creams." "But what's he rantin' about now?" inter- rupted Bill Williams. "Has the kid married a city girl?" "No; he ain't married her, but he says he's a-goin' to. You know his aunt that keeps house for them thinks the world and all of the kid he tells her about the girl and she ups and in- vites her to come down to the ranch and spend the summer. When the old man hears about it, he gets red-headed and kicks like a bay steer. He says that the girl would would fall off a rockin' horse, and couldn't no more milk a cow than he could harness an automobile." Jud Baines again broke in, "The old man's pretty well fixed the kid better look a little out. He's pretty nervy to buck agin the old man; none of the boys afore him ever dared to do it. Now I recollect one time " "Hold on here, Jud; we relish that story when stories are scarce, but today we have too much of real live interest to take time to listen to that. Go on Mart is she a-comin' anyway?" "Reckon she is. There comes the Forbes surry now with the kid drivin' and Aunt Susan in the back seat." A hush fell upon the crowd as the carriage ap- proached and a handsome, strapping youth jumped out, bidding them all a jovial good mor- ning. Mart was first to speak. "Specting somebody in, Ben?" c>lND OTHER STORIES "Well, rather" a rare smile illumined his face. "How's hay, Bob?" "Fine we've got it all stacked, waiting for the balers. Hear yours is the finest for years." "Yes, it's hard to beat. The stack over in the west field is a beauty. Father struts around it as proud as Punch; think he would have a fit if anything should happen to it." The clatter of the hoofs of four horses and the rumble of the wheels of the heavy stage arrested conversation, and when a dainty, well-dressed, sweet-faced girl alighted, the onlookers stared with their mouths open. Bill Williams was so much interested that he let the stick he was whit- tling fall and roll under the porch, while Mart forgot to shift his tobacco. As they watched the carriage out of sight, Mart ejaculated, "Well, if that old chunk of ice don't melt when he sees her, he's a glacier, that's all!" But the chunk of ice did not melt when he saw her. Although his well known hospitality and old-school courtesy would not allow him to be rude to anyone under his own roof, he gave her no chance to "be friends" with him, speaking to her only when she spoke to him and then making his words as few as possible. After a week of vain effort to make friends with him, she gathered up her courage and asked Ben the cause of his father's peculiar behavior. "Didn't he want me to come? Doesn't he like me now that I am here? What have I done to incur such disfavor?" A tear came in each brown eye, as she spoke. It was a moment of indecision for Ben. Should he tell her the truth, or should he tell her that it was his father's natural way? But a moment he wavered, and then, true to his upright, frank na- ture, he told her the exact situation. DEATH VALLEY SLIM "You see, little girl, it is father's hobby; he has a wrong idea of 'city girl^,' as he dubs you. He got his idea from a cousin of mine who vis- ited us at one time, and since then his antipathy has grown, until now he thinks it is almost a crime for a girl not to know how to milk a cow or ride a horse." His hearty laugh dispelled the tearful look about her eyes and she said, "Are you quite sure, Ben, that that is all?" "Quite sure, little girl; how could there be anything else? Now, look here! You must for- get all about this, because, happily, Benjamin Forbes, Junior, does not inherit that trait of his father's character. It matters not to him whether you can ride a bucking broncho or execute Schu- bert's Serenade with the brilliancy of Schubert himself, so long as you are you. Do you see that smoke over there? That is a forest fire. Did you ever see one?" "No will it come near to us?" "We most certainly hope not; and, if the wind does not change, we have no cause to worry." "But if the wind does change?" "Then all of the men around here will have to fight like mad. At this time of the year every- thing is as dry as powder, and a fire, once started, travels with the fierceness of a tornado. We fight for days without having our clothes off. If it should get to our east field it would sweep the whole ranch and we would be lucky to get away with our lives." June Arnold turned her eyes toward the haze off to the east and if one had been watching her closely, they would have seen creep into her face a look of determination, and if one could have read her thoughts, they would have been surprised by the wish they expressed. The days went by and the fire crept closer to the big California ranch until early one morning, long before old Kate, the cook, was stirring, there c>lND OTHER STORIES came a man horseback awaking the household and putting it into a great flurry with the an- nouncement that the fire was upon them. "Send all of your men to Penn Hill to fight at once if the wind stays as it is now all of this country will be in ashes by night!" Hardly had the echo of his horse's hoofs died away when ten men rode out of the lane at Forbes' ranch. Ben Forbes was in the lead. He paused only long enough to wave a good bye to a white, frightened little face in an upstairs window. All day long June watched the progress of the fire, with Aunt Susan as an interpreter, for each move of the smoke or degree of temperature, for the heat had grown to be almost unbearable. "Aunt Sued!" unconsciously June dropped into Ben's affectionate diminutive for his aunt "Do you suppose I could help any?" "Dear no, child; it is all those men can do to stand the heat over there; it is terrible they simply parch." "Then they must need water." "Indeed they do need water, the worst way, but they can't spare a man to get it they haven't nearly enough men as it is." June arose, with the determination of a few days before deepening. "I am going to take them over some water they are within half a mile now." Aunt Susan gasped. "My child, you would faint with the heat; the best thing for us to do is to pack our valuables and be ready to fly at a minute's notice. I have seen lots of forest fires in my day, but this is the worst in my recollec- tion." "I have only one valuable, and it is always with me," June colored prettily as she glanced at the sparkling stone on the third finger of her left hand. "I believe if they can stand the heat for DEATH VALLEY SLIM hours I can stand it long enough to get some water to them I can try at least." The bucket grew heavy and heavier as she trudged along, the heat growing more and more intense as she got nearer to the fire; but on she went, never faltering for a moment. The grate- ful looks the men gave her for the life-saving draught fully repaid her for it all. They took only time for a hurried swallow and then back again to their fighting no time had they for speech, not even Ben noticed her, further than to give her a look of love and thanks. But there was one who did not stop his fight- ing long enough to know even of her presence. He was calling out orders to the men in a hoarse, excited voice. She looked at him, spellbound she had never before heard him speak more than a few words at a time. "If we had ten more men to fight off the fire at that corner of the field, we could save that haystack, but six miles to get a man, and not a man can be spared to go. My God! the whole country is going to go! Boys over this way; start the back-fire over on this side! The wind is changing and we will have to work like devils to save our own lives! See " But the girl had quietly slipped away and had gone down into a gully where she had seen a saddled pony tied. With trembling hands she untied him and pulling the stirrups up shorter, she mounted. Her breath came quickly as she watched the pony, with dilated nostrils, turn his face toward the roaring, crackling forest. The sky above her was livid, against it the burning trees making gro- tesque figures. She gathered the reins into her hands and, speaking to him in a wavering voice, she started him off. Although the pony was as easy as a cradle, OTHER STORIES it seemed to her that every minute she would be thrown; but she clung to the pommel of the sad- dle with all the strength of her delicate white hands. The light from the flames caught the stone upon her hand, causing it to burst into a glory of scintillating lights, giving her renewed courage as she watched it. On and on they sped, the girl talking to the pony as they skimmed past field after field. "You know this means more than the saving of hay, fences and barns," she was saying to him, "and you must help me to show him that a 'city girl' can do something besides going to the theater and eating chocolate creams. You must help me I've got to make it," and the animal, seem- ing to realize upon what errand he was speeding, needed no whip nor spur. In what seemed an age to her, but in reality an incredibly short time, the town was reached and she quickly informed the crowd, which gath- ered about her foaming horse, of her mission. The men responded to a man, one of them call- ing back to her, "Better not let y^our horse have any water for a time, Miss." The girl's heart sank as she watched the smoke roll up against an already blackened sky and the flames shooting up until it seemed that they almost touched the heavens. She rode her horse back slowly, her nerve force all gone now that her errand was accomplished. She was weak from the hard, strenuous ride and a sudden fear came over her as she remembered that she was on a horse for the first time in her life. She let her arms slip down around the pony's neck and thus she rode, the pony picking his way carefully as if aware that he bore a precious bur- den. At last the ranch-house came into sight and in front of it she saw a crowd of people. As she C ,,.- .-*. \ / DEATH VALLEY SLIM drew near she could distinguish Aunt Susan in the foreground, gesticulating wildly. She could see that the fire was under control, the men hav- ing ceased their vigorous fighting, some of them lying sound asleep in the grass. But could she believe her eyes? Approaching her with his hands extended, and tears rolling down his blackened face, was Ben's father. He lifted her from the saddle and taking both of her hands in his, he looked down into her wondering eyes and said, "I guess, little girl, we can't get along without you on this ranch. Such pluck as yours isn't found every day. I want to say to you that I'll be proud to have you for my daugh- ter; let's go in now and talk over a few things we've been neglecting. Boys, Susan says there's a big supper ready for you all, come right in and welcome; Mart, you lead the way." As Ben gave June's hand a little squeeze he whispered, "'Twas that prize hay stack that did it." THE END NOTE. "The Raceforthe Sunbeam" was first published ^x-x \-<*'. * 3^ ",-& . V^'X^'S^ ty the Ouf West Magazine, and is here reproduced by permis- ' :-;:i^" : '-'---: sion. "Death Valley Slim," "The Princess" and "Slippy's Salute" were first published by fhe Western World, and are here repro- duced by permission. ^-UBRARY^/. <5ttVER%. iclOS- UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. NON-RENEJMBIE JUL 3 1M3 DUE 2 WKS FROM DA E RECEIVED LIBRARY > ncl 315 tlBRARYOc, *V V $1 u$ %towm$ University of California. Los Angetes L 005 490 577 3 %ojnv3-jo : L.OF-CAII % n I 3 clOSANCElfj; -OF-CAII o Jr^ * '% %83WNiHtfi s ^Asvaan- J5133NV-SO?