H E S P E R 
 
 K 
 
 BY 
 
 HAMLIN GARLAND 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GRAY- HORSE TROOP" ETC. 
 
 New York 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 Publishers 
 
Contents 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XX. ANN SENDS PEABODY AWAY 289 
 
 XXI. RAYMOND RECEIVES VISITORS 305 
 
 XXII. RAYMOND MEETS ANN AGAIN 321 
 
 XXIII. Louis CALLS FOR ANN 34i 
 
 XXIV. ANN RETURNS TO SKY-TOWN 35 6 
 
 XXV. A DAY OF ACTION 3 So 
 
 XXVI. A LAST APPEAL 3 8S 
 
 XXVII. HESPER 406 
 
 XXVIII. RAYMOND SILENCES MUNRO 4" 
 
 XXIX. ANN S NEW PHILOSOPHY 418 
 
 XXX. MUNRO S LAST WORD 428 
 
 XXXI. ANN RETURNS TO NEW YORK ....... 43* 
 
Hesper 
 
 The Emigrants 
 
 NEARLY the entire boat-load of passengers was 
 jammed along the forward gates, ready to spring 
 out upon the Jersey wharf, restive to reach the wait 
 ing trains. But quite apart from all these whose faces 
 were set westward, three people a girl, a man nearing 
 forty, and a slim lad lingered on the after-deck as 
 though loath to take their leave of the imperial city 
 whose singular sky-line was becoming each moment 
 more impressive, more unaccountable to those who 
 were looking upon it for the first time. 
 
 As the big barge drew out into mid -stream, the 
 wharfs, the four -story tenements, and the business 
 blocks rose in dim terraces, one behind the other, till 
 the highest of them all loomed like the crest of a mist- 
 hid mesa, and the lights in the dusk of the lower levels 
 allured like camp-fires in the deeps of wooded vales, 
 while between the little group on the stern of the boat 
 and this smoke-hid range of mysterious peaks the cold, 
 gray water rolled, ever widening, menacing, inexorable 
 as death in its power to divide the fortunes of men. 
 i 
 
 
,T 
 
 Hesper 
 
 The resemblance of this monstrous hive of human 
 kind to a height of land was so marked, so singular, 
 that the girl remarked upon it, and the boy, a pale 
 lad of seventeen, cried out, in shrill staccato, 
 
 "Yes; but think of the real mountains we re going 
 to climb!" 
 
 The girl did not speak for a moment, and when she 
 did her voice was distinctly sorrowful. "I feel as 
 though I were saying good-bye to everything worth 
 while." 
 
 "Including me?" asked her escort. 
 
 She did not smile, but her accent was kindly as she 
 answered, "Yes, Wayne, including you." 
 
 "Oh, sis, you make me tired!" cried the boy. "Just 
 as if going West were bidding good-bye to everything!" 
 He beat his thin chest. "I m just beginning to live, 
 now. I m glad to get away from the stuffy old town. 
 I want to see something besides Fifth Avenue and Cen 
 tral Park." 
 
 Wayne Peabody laughed good-naturedly down at 
 the boy. " You wouldn t care if civilization did 
 stop at the west bank of the Hudson River, would 
 you?" 
 
 " I should say not. I m tired of it all the noise and 
 the pavements and the heat and the wetness. I want 
 to get out where the wolves and the cranes and the 
 cow-boys are; I want to hit the trail and find where 
 father s camps were." 
 
 Ann smiled a little. "All of that we ve heard before, 
 Louis. Wayne knows all about your ambitions." 
 
 The city was by this time a vast, blue bank of cloud, 
 an indefinite mass, out of which only the larger lamps 
 still dimly shone. It might have been a mining-town 
 
 2 
 
The Emigrants 
 
 scattered along a hill-side. Around the Hopatcong, 
 scuttling to and fro, other deep-laden craft were ply 
 ing like prodigious water - beetles, confusing to the 
 spectator, yet pursuing each his predestined course, 
 palpitating with power, thronged with other human 
 beings eager to find rest and shelter for the night. 
 
 The girl spoke musingly. " It s singular, but I have 
 a premonition of some dark fate some vague sorrow. 
 I never felt so before not even on my trip to Egypt. 
 If I don t come back I want you to note that I was 
 forewarned." 
 
 Peabody smiled. " That isn t very flattering to 
 the West. You will not find a desert waste exactly, 
 even in Valley Springs. There are some millions of 
 people between here and there " 
 
 "But such people! Just a welter of commonplace 
 personalities. The more we have of such creatures 
 the worse for our country." 
 
 " You re a little severe. There are a few common 
 place personalities on our little island." He nodded 
 at the receding city. " I fear I shall find it an espe 
 cially dreary collection to-night as I go back to jostle 
 elbows with them, while you are being carried out of 
 my reach." 
 
 His attempt to make a personal application of her 
 own misgiving silenced the girl, and as her brother 
 cried out, imperiously, "Come, let s go forward!" she 
 turned with a sigh and followed him. 
 
 Peabody remarked, in a low voice: " Louis is trans 
 formed already. It will do him all kinds of good to 
 go West." 
 
 "I hope so," she replied, rather drearily; "but he 
 seems unwholesomely excited at the present moment. 1 
 
 3 
 
Hesper 
 
 "He ll get over that." 
 
 " I fear he will be disappointed. Father s trip was 
 made nearly twenty -five years ago, when it was a 
 really wonderful land." 
 
 " He is young. He will reimagine it." 
 
 The boy stood like some beautiful animal poised 
 for a spring as the ferry shouldered its clumsy way 
 into the Jersey dock. He was of less bulk than his 
 strong, composed, modish sister, and his face was as 
 dark, as mobile, and as eager as hers was fair and 
 impassive. Peabody experienced once again a twinge 
 of keen regret that Ann had not some of her brother s 
 radiant enthusiasm. 
 
 Surrounded by porters and wearing an air of com 
 mand, Louis led the way to the sleeping-car, impatient 
 of his sister s deliberation. On one hip he carried a 
 pair of large field-glasses, and over the other a costly 
 camera, while half-concealed cases of pencils and pads 
 of drawing-paper bulging from his pockets announced 
 his artistic intention. He was comically prepared to 
 "jot down" at a moment s notice any wild man or 
 animal he might encounter, or any good story he 
 might hear. 
 
 As the time for the train to start drew near, Pea- 
 body strove to win some softer word from Ann ; but 
 she was not of those who manifest emotion her 
 training and her temperament were alike opposed 
 to easy expression. When he tried to take her hand 
 a second time, with eyes that entreated, she re 
 coiled. 
 
 " No! No! You have no right to expect that!" 
 
 He was no longer a boy, and he was bred to self- 
 control; therefore, though his voice trembled a little, 
 
 4 
 
The Emigrants 
 
 he spoke quietly. " Good-bye, Ann. Write every day, 
 won t you?" 
 
 In a voice which chilled him, she replied: "Every 
 day is pretty often but you will hear from me. Go 
 and see mother, please. She will not say so, but she 
 will be glad to have you come." 
 
 "Depend upon me," he said, lifting his hat. His 
 bearded face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes were 
 hot with pain and grief. How cold and unresponsive 
 she had been, and how desirable she was! 
 
 The girl, on her part, felt a sudden twinge of re 
 morse as she left him there, a fine, strong, manly suitor, 
 who uttered no complaint though she wounded him. 
 The twitching of his lips troubled her, but she did 
 not relent. In her heart she said: " I can t help it 
 it isn t in me. He shouldn t ask it." 
 
 Louis threw himself flat on the couch in their 
 state-room and said, boyishly: " Gee! we re off at last. 
 Now let her whiz. This old train can t go fast enough 
 for me." 
 
 Looking down at him at that moment, Ann s bosom 
 swelled with an emotion almost maternal. How 
 thin he is," she thought, as her eyes took in his slight 
 body. " I ll go; I ll do anything for him if only he 
 can grow strong and well." 
 
 She loved that slender lad, and assumed for him a 
 greater weight of care and hope and fear than for any 
 other human being. He was so like his father the 
 soul restless as flame, the slender body racked, worn 
 with endless enthusiasms, the burning, mesmeric eyes 
 and the delicate mouth. All these she had known and 
 valued in her father, and when the doctor seriously 
 advised the Rocky Mountains she readily gave up her 
 
 5 
 
Hesper 
 
 own plans and here and now she sat, rushing tow 
 ards the West, to a town as repulsive to her as 
 Hoboken or Coney Island, a place of emptiness and 
 weariness, a social desert, where no one lived but her 
 cousins the Barnetts, to whose hospitable door they 
 were bound as voyagers on a wide sea to a snug har 
 bor without that home, as a point of arrival, she 
 would have been in such uncertainty of mind as 
 besets a sailor on a chartless sea. 
 
 Her patriotism was not excessive, even when con 
 fined to New York. Patriotism was to her a word of 
 small weight. Hers had been a narrow life narrow 
 without being intense and she knew little of her na 
 tive city; and as for the great inland valley towns, 
 they were unworthy of mention even in a jest. It 
 did not matter to her whether the States contained 
 one or a hundred millions of people. They had no 
 distinction and distinction was a great word with 
 Ann Rupert. The only personalities worth while were 
 necessarily in the East. " And yet," she was accus 
 tomed to add, " New York is a village compared to 
 London. There is but one really satisfactory city, and 
 that is Paris." 
 
 Louis held hot arguments with her on all these 
 points, but they usually ended in substantial agree 
 ment that Paris possessed all that was really worth 
 while in art, but was sadly lacking in mountains, 
 wild animals, Indians, and cow-boys, for which he 
 had developed a most unreasoning passion. He was 
 all for the free, untrodden spaces, the primitive types. 
 He longed to companion those who approached the 
 bear in strength, the wolf in cunning, and the antelope 
 in lightness of foot. 
 
 6 
 
The Emigrants 
 
 In listening to this conversation a stranger would 
 not have suspected Ann of fervent self-sacrifice 
 she was so calm, so cold, so irreproachable in every 
 li ne an( i yet she was making this abhorrent trip in 
 order that her brother might thrive in his physical 
 well-being as well as in his art. He had recently 
 determined on being an illustrator of wild -animal 
 books. " I m going to study them at first hand," he 
 repeated often, " the way Melborn Foster has done. 
 And, besides, I want to illustrate father s journal." 
 This journal, the record of a trip into the West made 
 by Philip Rupert before his marriage, had come to 
 be the most powerful influence in the lad s life. It 
 was a worn, little red book in which the father had 
 written the daily happenings and impressions of his 
 trip and its discovery by Louis, in a box of old papers, 
 had quite transformed his life. It had made him an 
 American, filling him with a longing for the " Hesperean 
 Mountains," as the father called the romantic land he 
 had seen but once, but whose splendor lived with him 
 throughout the remainder of his short life. 
 
 As they sat at table in the dining-car, Ann again 
 listened indulgently to her brother s plans, and per 
 mitted him to order the dinner and assume all the 
 manners of a grown man, honestly trying to conceal 
 her own weariness of spirit, sincerely regretful of her 
 bitter words on the ferry. 
 
 Louis was not weary ; he eyed every man who came 
 in, avid to discover some Western trait, some outward 
 sign of inward difference between himself and his 
 companions, but could not. They were all quite 
 commonplace business men, well dressed, close-clipped, 
 and urbane of manner. Some of them were evidently 
 
 7 
 
Hesper 
 
 salesmen going over to Philadelphia or out to Chicago, 
 and they all ate long and with every evidence of en 
 joyment. Some of the women were young and pretty 
 students returning to the West for their summer 
 vacations. 
 
 Once more in the privacy of her state-room and 
 looking out at the landscape reeling past, Ann sank 
 back in her seat wholly dismayed. "What in the 
 world can I do out there?" she asked herself, most 
 poignantly. " Of course they don t play golf or tennis, 
 and I can t ride; and, besides, whom could I play with? 
 Jeannette is not a bit athletic." And again the small 
 round of her interests she had no gayeties was borne 
 in upon her. "I shall die of inactivity." 
 
 Louis excused himself quite formally and went back 
 into the smoking compartment to sit with the men, 
 while Ann, left alone, gave herself up to a close, half- 
 ironic study of the absurdity of her position. With a 
 dozen most desirable invitations to distinguished Lon 
 don homes, with everything before her that a girl of 
 her age and tastes could desire, she had turned away 
 to face the crude conditions of a Western State in a 
 warm glow of sisterly affection; but now with Louis 
 deserting her for the nondescript crowd of men in the 
 smoking-room, her flame of duty began to flicker and 
 to emit smoke. "Why not Switzerland? or the Ad- 
 irondacks? Either would have done as well for him," 
 she thought; but added: "No, they would not. Noth 
 ing but the Rocky Mountains will satisfy him, now 
 that he has the journal. I can only hope that this 
 enthusiasm will die out like the rest ; only, the trip must 
 do him good." 
 
 She took up the little red book, in which she had 
 
 8 
 
The Emigrants 
 
 taken only a languid interest before, and, turning the 
 leaves at random, fell upon bits of description that 
 stirred her unaccountably. Now that she was about to 
 enter this land of her father s delight, the words took 
 on passion and power. Why should unknown rivers 
 and endless forests and high, lonely valleys so allure 
 a man? Where did this singular passion spring from? 
 Was it a reversal to his pioneer grandsires ? 
 
 Louis came back to her, much excited. 
 
 "Sis, there is a man in there who has a mine in New 
 Mexico. He wants us to visit his camp when we get 
 time. He says there s a mine in Colorado so high up 
 that you can only bring the ore down by an aerial 
 tramway. Jupiter! but I would like to see that! I 
 told him about the places father wrote about, and he 
 says he knows lots of em." 
 
 "You are over-exciting yourself, boy," she said, se 
 verely. "Now you lie down and be quiet for a while. 
 The bad air has started you coughing." 
 
 When she used that tone he generally obeyed, and, 
 stretching himself out on the couch opposite her, he 
 pretended to rest, eying her abstractedly. 
 
 Perceiving his disappointment, she asked, gently, 
 "Was he a Colorado man?" 
 
 His tone showed a little disgust. "No; he lives in 
 Pittsburg; but he s been all over the Rockies," he 
 added in qualification. 
 
 "Well, never mind; you ll see Western men with 
 stories all day to-morrow." 
 
 For a year or two this high-bred, excitable lad had 
 been reading every obtainable book which treated of 
 cow-boys and miners. He had read and remembered 
 all the stories by Welland and Ridgely and Gough 
 
 9 
 
Hesper 
 
 he knew every illustrator of the wild life, and had come 
 to believe that the entire West swarmed with long 
 haired desperadoes and lonesome men in chase of 
 splendid wild animals. " After we leave Chicago we ll 
 meet em," he said. "You know father says the 
 West begins at Chicago. All this country is East," 
 and he went to sleep early in order to be up at dawn 
 to meet the real West. 
 
 They woke next morning in Ohio; and as they sat 
 at breakfast, Ann, looking out on the nameless lit 
 tle towns whizzing backward in a blur of clanging 
 switch -gongs, shuddered and cried out, "Think of 
 living here!" 
 
 The boy was reflective. "Pretty slow, aren t they? 
 But it s different on the other side of Chicago." 
 
 " Oh, of course. No one would want to come here 
 not even a crazy boy like you," she said, in a tone he 
 could not quite fathom. 
 
 He was disposed to be generous, even towards Ohio. 
 "This isn t so bad. It looks a little like Surrey; don t 
 you think so?" 
 
 As the morning wore on, Ann settled down to her 
 reading, refusing to look out even once upon the land 
 scape. She ate her lunch in gloomy silence, and even 
 the boy s spirits began to flag. " I wish this old train 
 ran two miles a minute," he grumbled. "I want to 
 reach the Hesperean Mountains." 
 
 "They will wait for us," replied Ann. 
 
 They arrived in Chicago behind their schedule time, 
 and had but a few minutes in which to make their 
 transfer, and so they saw little of the great central 
 metropolis. To them it was only a gloomy, clangor 
 ous shed, fitted with long strings of railway coaches all 
 
 10 
 
The Emigrants 
 
 marked with strange names names that meant little 
 to her, but which excited Louis almost to tears. " See," 
 he cried, "there is a car from Oregon and one from 
 Wyoming!" The people who filled the coaches were not 
 markedly different at first glance from those she had 
 been travelling with; but Louis, more keenly discern 
 ing, began to distinguish types at once, and when one 
 or two big men came in wearing wide hats and chin 
 beards, he trembled with joy. "There are some cattle 
 men I m sure of it," he whispered, hoarsely. 
 
 A crowd of laughing college girls blew in, half filling 
 the car. Some of them were going home from school, 
 and the others were classmates bidding them good-bye. 
 They were very gay, very lovely, and very fervent, and 
 Ann, looking upon them, recalled that she once looked 
 like that. A little hush fell on the group as one of them 
 said, with a little catch in her voice, "Girls, when will 
 we seven meet again?" 
 
 In that hush came thoughts of courtship, marriage, 
 death and the first chill touch of Time s inexorable 
 hand. They would never meet again. Two would, 
 three might, but four or five no they were parting 
 forever some of them. Their sweet, careless faces 
 clouded; tears sprang to their laughing eyes. For 
 some of them womanhood and duty that is to say, 
 life began at that moment. To them Ann was no 
 longer young. 
 
 At length one of them, irrepressible of spirit, cried 
 out, in jocular, defiant way, "Why, how solemn we all 
 are! This is not a funeral." And then their birdlike 
 chatter broke forth again; but it was no longer care 
 lessly gay, it was forced, spasmodic. With kisses and 
 tears they parted, while Ann, letting her book fall in 
 
 ii 
 
Hesper 
 
 her lap, attained a new realization that her own careless 
 girlhood was over. "I used to feel things like that," 
 she said to herself. "Now I neither love nor hate," 
 and her thought of Wayne Peabody had no glow of 
 tenderness in it. 
 
 Louis did not return to the Pullman till after the 
 train had left the city, and she was just beginning to 
 wonder thereat, when he came in with eyes ablaze. 
 "I ve struck em at last," he fairly shouted in her ear. 
 " They re all up in the reclining-chairs. Chin-bearders, 
 spitters, and all. I m just crazy to sketch two or three 
 of them. It don t pay to ride in a state-room if you 
 want to see types," he ended, in conclusive discon 
 tent. 
 
 "You can go and ride among the spitters, what 
 ever they may be, but you can t expect me to do so." 
 
 "Of course not. But there are two men up there 
 that are stories. One has his whiskers cut exactly like 
 Alkali Ike you know what I mean to make his mus 
 tache look fierce. I m going to tackle him later. He s 
 just what I need to illustrate my story of the man who 
 killed another because the other man was robbing a 
 girl of her mine. Oh, I ve got a bully scheme for a 
 story." 
 
 Ann saw nothing more of her fellow - passengers, 
 and not much of Louis, till next morning at breakfast. 
 The dining service was surprisingly good, and their 
 dainty meal was made really wonderful by contrast 
 with the plains country through which they were rush 
 ing. Louis had been up an hour, and fairly boiled and 
 bubbled with talk about the people in the coaches 
 ahead. "Do you know, sis, they slept in their chairs 
 all night. Think o that ! I didn t know they did that 
 
 12 
 
The Emigrants 
 
 sort of thing, did you? I suppose they were too poor 
 to buy berths. Don t you think so?" 
 
 "Perhaps the berths were all full." 
 
 "That s so," he replied, a little disappointed. "But 
 we re on the edge of the cattle-country. All the talk 
 is about cattle, and I struck one old man who lives 
 away out in the real cattle-country. He wanted me to 
 come out and see him." 
 
 And this was true. Every one liked him, he was so 
 genuine, so lyric in his enthusiasms. His candid, boy 
 ish eyes glowed as he listened to their braggart praise 
 of their own State or county ; his interest had no un 
 dercurrent of distrust or ridicule in it, and young and 
 old opened their hearts to him. He, on his part, went 
 so far as to invite the man with the Alkali Ike mus 
 tache back to see his sister. "She d like to know you, 
 Mr. Barse." 
 
 The rancher shifted uneasily in his chair, and said, 
 with instinctive delicacy: "I m just as much obliged, 
 youngster, but, to tell the truth, I ve been on with 
 some cattle and knockin around Chicago for several 
 days, and I ain t in no fit condition to meet ladies. 
 You can t do such work as mine and not carry off some 
 of the smell." 
 
 Louis insisted that his sister would make all allow 
 ances, but the rancher remained firm in his resolution, 
 and so Ann missed seeing those wonderful whiskers. 
 However, she was forced to look at prairie-dogs and 
 owls, and once she feared Louis was going out of the 
 window in mad pursuit of a wolf. His interest was 
 deeply pathetic, and confirmed her in her good resolu 
 tion to do whatsoever she could to make him happy. 
 
 As the day wore on the boy began to burn with a 
 
 13 
 
Hesper 
 
 new phase of his fever. He commenced to count the 
 hours till he might be able to discern Mogalyon, the 
 great peak of the Rampart Range, whose fame is 
 world-wide. On the railway map was a point mark 
 ed "First view of the peaks here." Thereafter Louis 
 no longer scanned the plains for coyotes. He rushed 
 from one side of the car to the other, resolute to 
 register the exact moment when the great dome could 
 be seen mounting above the sod, and Ann once again, 
 for the thousandth time, wondered at the difference 
 which lay between his temperament and hers. She 
 was nine years older as the clock ticks, but measured 
 in the cooling -down of her loves and hates she was 
 more than twice his age. That she was her moth 
 er s child she knew; but she could not give up the 
 hope that something of her beautiful, poetic father lay 
 dormant in her somewhere. 
 
 A shrill whoop from Louis, who was hanging from 
 the window, roused her from her deep musing. How 
 like his father he was at that moment! His eyes were 
 blazing, and his long, black hair, blown back by the 
 wind, disclosed his high, pale forehead; his sweet lips 
 were parted in an ecstatic smile. 
 
 "There she is! Just as father saw it! And there s 
 snow on it!" he shouted, as he turned towards her. 
 "I m going out on the platform. There s a curve 
 ahead, and then we can see it perfectly." 
 
 Ann experienced her first decided flush of interest 
 as the swinging, reeling rush of the train brought the 
 great peak into view, a dim, blue dome against the 
 western sky. Above the strange, desolate sweep of 
 plain he rose to a low, slate-blue cloud, and then, soar 
 ing above the vapor, appeared far in the clear, upper sky, 
 
 14 
 
The Emigrants 
 
 triumphant and unassailable, his crest glittering with 
 snow. As she peered through her field-glass her heart 
 gave a sudden leap. "That is strange," she thought. 
 Why should I be so moved ? Mont Blanc did not give 
 me such a throb," and she turned again to the passion 
 ate praise of "the portals" in her father s journal. 
 
 There was no rest for Louis thereafter. He saw and 
 tried to estimate every herd of cattle, he waved his hat 
 in greeting to every cow-boy. He called to Ann to 
 observe how much those herdsmen resembled the illus 
 trations in Welland s books. His trips to the common 
 coaches ahead lengthened, and each time he returned 
 he seemed more heavily burdened with newly acquired 
 information. Ann now began to long for the journey s 
 end on his account, rather than on her own. "He 
 is wearing himself out with the joy of it all, and will 
 collapse if he does not rest soon," she thought, anx 
 iously. 
 
 At last, just as the red was paling out of the sky, the 
 train swung to the left on its southerly course, and the 
 whole Rampart Range began to stretch and wind away 
 to northward and southward, while between the plain 
 and the foot-hills rolled a tawny sea of sod, deeply 
 marked with ravines and dotted with pine-clad buttes. 
 The whole land, magnificent in breadth and dignity, 
 made no dramatic appeal, but expressed a colossal 
 reserve even the mountains seemed remote. So qui 
 etly vast was this wall of peaks it dwarfed every 
 thing which intervened, reducing towns to soundless 
 flecks of color and streams to strips of brass. Its 
 mystery and its essential majesty touched the poetic 
 lad to tears, and Ann, imperturbable as she seemed, 
 experienced a singular swelling of the throat. For the 
 
Hesper 
 
 first time she acknowledged that possibly the nature* 
 side of the West might interest her, after all. 
 
 The range grew dimmer as they gazed, and at last 
 even Louis was content to sink back in his seat and 
 wait. 
 
 "It isn t a bit as I expected it to be," he said; "but 
 it is glorious. That purple-green was wonderful. I m 
 going to try and get that sometime. It isn t as pre 
 cipitous as the Alps, but it s superb just the same; and 
 just think how much wilder it was when father came 
 here!" 
 
 "I m glad you were not disappointed, boy," she re 
 plied, laying her hand on his shoulder and caressing 
 his cheek. "But you need rest. You re seeing too 
 much." 
 
 The train was now winding down towards Valley 
 Springs, and only the splendid sky-line of the range 
 could be distinguished as the lights of the town began 
 to sparkle out of the obscure murk. 
 
 The porter, with brush in hand, came down the aisle. 
 "This is Valley Springs, miss." 
 
 They were met at the car door by a big, smiling man 
 in modish summer dress, while behind him stood a pale, 
 sweet -faced woman in blue. 
 
 "Hello, Don!" shouted Louis. 
 
 "Hello, laddie! How do you do, Ann?" replied 
 Barnett; and as Ann and her cousin embraced, the big 
 man caught Louis by the hand. " How s your muscle, 
 my boy? Got all your traps? Here, Tom!" he called 
 to a colored footman, "look out for these things. Now 
 give me a chance, Jeannette," he called, jovially, but 
 Ann put up her hand warningly. 
 
 "Don, you forget. Respect my age." 
 
 16 
 
The Emigrants 
 
 ^e nothing you re tasty as a peach," and he 
 gave her a smack. 
 
 * Donnelly is the same old irrepressible," said Mrs. 
 Baraett. 
 
 "So I see/ 1 replied Ann, dryly. 
 
 " Welcome to the West!" called Barnett, as he opened 
 the carriage door. "The land of gold- "zone, and " 
 
 " Brag," interrupted his wife, with an inflection which 
 made them all laugh. 
 
II 
 
 The Health-seekers 
 
 ANN S entrance into the Barnett home cut her off 
 /\from all contact with life distinctly Western. She 
 found herself still amid the velvet and silver of the 
 parlor-car, and saw only remotely those who slept all 
 night in the cramped corners of the ordinary coaches. 
 Her cousins were not native; they were, indeed, only 
 translated Philadelphians who had gone West in search 
 of health at least Mrs. Barnett was there for that rea 
 son; her husband made the change for love of his wife. 
 A certain percentage of the towns-people, and the 
 members of the special circle in which the Barnetts 
 moved, were health -seekers, and Ann was deeply re 
 lieved to find that all the comforts of an Eastern home 
 were to be enjoyed in the big, gray-stone houses on 
 Rampart Avenue. Indeed, the Barnetts lived quite as 
 they would have done in Seabright or Lenox, 
 had a dozen horses, a suitable assortment of vehicles, 
 saddles, and bridles, and were enthusiasts concerning 
 polo and golf. Their neighbors and friends were un 
 failingly ecstatic in praise of the climate and the views, 
 and seemed illogically anxious to placate the prejudices 
 of this haughty, pale-faced, scarlet-lipped young girl, 
 who looked with calm eyes upon the great peak gloom 
 ing to the westward. They formed, in fact, a colony 
 
 18 
 
The Health-seekers 
 
 of alien health - seekers, busied with pleasures, set 
 distinctly apart from the toilers and traders of the 
 place. 
 
 Ann was puzzled and a bit bored by their insistence 
 on winning her admiration of the mountains, and, being 
 naturally perverse, withheld the expressions of pleas 
 ure she might otherwise have uttered, for she was pro 
 foundly moved by what she saw. The very first day 
 of her stay offered a titanic combat of clouds and peaks, 
 which recalled some of the descriptions in her father s 
 journal. The morning opened dazzlingly bright and 
 very still, and the pitiless light seemed to search out 
 every prosaic line and color-note in the mountains till 
 they shrank, diminished and humbled, as if ashamed 
 of their disfigurements. But towards mid-day a single 
 shining, white-edged cloud appeared behind Mogalyon, 
 clear-cut, radiant as a moon, and swiftly rose and si 
 lently shook out prodigious wings until it covered the 
 summit with a most portentous shadow. Out of its 
 dark folds flashed a yellow lance of lightning, and then 
 the cloud called to its fellows, called imperiously, and 
 they came, suddenly, like warriors from ambush, and, 
 massing side by side, charged to and fro, hurtling over 
 the desolate ridges in a frenzy of warfare, till their bat 
 tle-vapor hid the whole majestic wall. The noise of 
 their onset was majestic. At two o clock the valley 
 was darkened with the smoke of the tumult, and tim 
 orous women in the town trembled with dread. It 
 seemed that all who dwelt below were in peril of their 
 lives. 
 
 They were needlessly alarmed. The sturdy peaks 
 receiving the shock remained unmoved. At four 
 o clock the legions of the air suddenly withdrew, and 
 
 19 
 
Hesper 
 
 Mogalyon s crown soared aloft unchanged save by the 
 transcendently beautiful robe of new-fallen snow with 
 which the storm had covered him as if in acknowledg 
 ment of his kingship. He flamed with a high lustre 
 that humbled the proudest heart, and swept the pass 
 ing plainsman into such emotion as those of old felt 
 when the heavens opened and the walls of the celestial 
 city appeared. 
 
 Louis poetic soul was strung to most intense pitch 
 by this first day s display. He scarcely ate, so eager 
 was he to witness every stage of the struggle. The 
 Barnett dining-room commanded a view of the moun 
 tains, and the host, observing the boy s enthusiasm, 
 said, indulgently: 
 
 "Don t feel that you re losing anything, Louis; this 
 comes every day regularly between n A.M. and 4 P.M." 
 
 "Oh, don t put it that way, Donnelly; it vulgarizes 
 it!" cried Mrs. Barnett. 
 
 "Nothing can vulgarize that peak not even the 
 railway," remarked a guest. 
 
 "I never did understand that girl," said Barnett to 
 his wife one night after a superb drive up into the great 
 Bear Canon. " She has everything to make her happy, 
 and yet she goes about torpid as an oyster. What s 
 the matter with her?" 
 
 Jeannette sighed. " That s her mother s blood. She s 
 like her mother in a hundred ways. Louis is exactly 
 like his father." I remember when he came back 
 from his first and only trip to the West. I was only 
 a child, but I recall his enthusiasm." 
 
 He was a lovable fellow, but I never could stand 
 Alicia. She was positively stony. I have hopes of 
 
 20 
 
The Health -seekers 
 
 Ann. Her hand is strong and warm human, in fact. 
 Don t you think her indifference a pose? 
 
 "I wish it were. No, it s genuine." 
 
 "She needs to be shaken up by a good, hot love 
 affair. Some man will come " 
 
 "That s what I ve been saying, but the man don t 
 come. She s twenty-six." 
 
 "How awful!" 
 
 "That s the part I don t understand about Ann. 
 She has money, is handsome, and yet here she is quite 
 disengaged if we except her affair with Peabody, 
 which Adney writes is quite as tepid as any of Ann s 
 other affairs." 
 
 "Well, now, I ll tell you. She s come to the right 
 place to have men ride up and demand attention. If 
 she don t have at least an offer a week it will not be 
 my fault. I m going to invite all the young fellows 
 home to dinner while she s here. Now watch things 
 bile. " 
 
 "You don t suppose she s going to fall in love with a 
 mining engineer or the clerk in a bank, do you?" 
 
 "Now, that s the funny thing about us. I am all 
 for romance, hot blood, love at first sight, and the like, 
 while you are calculating coldly calculating. Madam, 
 I am shocked at your self-restraint!" 
 
 There was a certain truth in his jocular accusation. 
 For with all her delicacy of mind and body, Jeannette 
 Barnett was deliberate and judicial. She wanted to 
 marry Ann off, but she did not hope for, and did not de 
 sire, a romantic marriage. However, she acquiesced in 
 Don s hospitable and cousinly plan, and their table was 
 filled each night with young people deftly paired off 
 so that Ann was always seated beside some promising 
 
 21 
 
Hesper 
 
 candidate generally a tourist like herself, eager to 
 discuss the differences between his idea of the West and 
 its reality. 
 
 Barnett, nominally a mining broker, was, in fact, 
 president of the polo club, secretary of the Sage Grass 
 Golf Association in short, financial nurse to every col 
 lection of amiable sports in the town. He knew all 
 "the best fellows" in the State and now became more 
 popular than ever. The young men accepted his din 
 ner invitations with gratitude, and each and all paid 
 prompt and undisguised court to "the proud Eastern 
 beauty," as one young fellow called her. But they 
 soon acknowledged failure. Her reserve led to a sense 
 of injury, and was reported to be arrogance. They were 
 seldom flattered by the slightest unbending on her 
 part. 
 
 However, several of these young fellows turned out 
 on acquaintance to be socially related to some of her 
 friends in Boston and New York, and in that way won 
 a certain acceptance which no mere civil-engineer from 
 Omaha or professor from St. Louis could hope to attain. 
 They were met on the conventional plane, and they got 
 no further at any time. 
 
 Ann wrote her mother a coldlv satirical description 
 of the Springs. 
 
 "There are a few nice people here, mostly health-seek 
 ers one-lungers, Louis calls them a vulgar phrase he 
 has picked up but for the most part, of course, the towns 
 people are impossible. The Barnetts practically control 
 the social situation, but they are altogether too catholic 
 to please you. Don Barnett always was indiscriminate 
 in his friends, and all manner of queer people turn up at 
 his table. Naturally, Louis is ecstatic, and is securing a 
 
 22 
 
The Health-seekers 
 
 vast fund of useless information about mining and cattle 
 and timber culture. I m bored most of the time, but the 
 mountains are really very grand and solemn. The canons 
 would be most impressive, only they swarm with tourists. 
 The town is absurd and pathetic. So many are trying, as 
 I am, to interest themselves for the sake of the climate. 
 How long I shall stay I cannot say probably till Novem 
 ber; all depends on Louis health, of course. He is, at 
 present, unwholesomely excited. Every long-haired, 
 broad-hatted man he sees is a story to him, poor boy, 
 and he is on the trot every hour of the day." 
 
 To Wayne Peabody she wrote : 
 
 " It is a strange thing, but I feel as if I were on an island 
 out here a social island with two thousand miles of 
 arid nothingness rolling between New York and our little 
 group. What do you suppose all those millions on the 
 prairie think about? What are their ambitions? I never 
 even considered them before, but being on this side of 
 them has brought them nearer to me. What is the good 
 of all these cheap little men and women?" 
 
 Meanwhile she was really troubled about Louis. He 
 was eating less and less each day, and his sleep was 
 broken, and at the end of the first week fell in a state 
 of collapse. The excitement, the late hours, the con 
 tact with new types, and, above all, the attempt to un 
 derstand the country and his relationship with it had 
 worn him out. Then Ann said, in her decisive way : " I 
 don t believe this altitude is good for Louis. I think 
 I will take him home again." 
 
 "Oh, don t do that. It isn t the altitude; it s the 
 social whirl. Send him down to my ranch. It s, a 
 hole of a place, but it s just what he needs. Nothing 
 
 23 
 
Hesper 
 
 to see but coyotes and cow-boys. We ll put him under 
 Rob Raymond s wing. Rob s my foreman, and a good 
 chap; he ll take to the boy like anything. I m sure 
 of it." 
 
 Louis sat up with a jerk when told of this plan to send 
 him among real cow-boys he had only seen one or 
 two thus far, and they were galloping out of town 
 and was all for starting at once, but Ann was firm. 
 "You stay quietly in bed for a few days and get 
 rested, and then we will see." 
 
 As soon as he was able to ride down-town the boy 
 began again to mix with the ranchers on the street, and 
 to strike hands with every "character" he discovered. 
 He came home to lunch each day full of talk of some 
 picturesque miner or hairy cattle-man whom he had 
 met on the corner, and whose heart had been opened 
 to him. His room began to fill with specimens of ore, 
 and his keen and relentless memory acquired a still 
 more wonderful collection of phrases and scraps of 
 what seemed to him useful information. He began 
 to plead for his visit to the ranch. 
 
 "Everybody cottons to the lad," said Barnett to 
 his wife. "He tackled old man Sandefer to-day and 
 had him telling the story of his life before he knew 
 what he was about. He d make a wonderful broker; 
 he could sell stock, even the stock of the Red Star," 
 which was his own mine. 
 
 "He s very lovable," replied she, "but he is terribly 
 intense. He will wear himself out, just like his father." 
 
 "Oh no; he ll begin to harden up pretty soon. 
 Besides, he s bound to lose interest finally." 
 
 "That would be a pity. His enthusiasm s are beau 
 tiful to me. When do we go to the ranch?" 
 
 24 
 
The Health-seekers 
 
 The plan as worked out by Barnett involved a trip 
 on his automobile for the four of them ; but he delayed 
 too long. Mrs. Barnett entered upon one of her "poor 
 spells," and Donnelly, faithful as a big dog, promptly 
 told Louis to go ahead and not wait for the party. " I 
 must stay and nurse Jeannette." 
 
 Ann was afraid to let Louis go alone, but Barnett 
 pooh-poohed her. " He ll get on all right; in fact, he ll 
 rejoice to be free of us for a day or two. I ll wire the 
 mail-carrier to meet him and take him down, and I ll 
 send a letter to Raymond to look out for him. He ll 
 be more than safe; he ll be happy, and he won t miss us 
 in the least." 
 
 Ann insisted on going down herself. "I want to 
 see him properly settled," she said. 
 
 "It s a dreary ride," murmured Mrs. Barnett from 
 the bed where she lay, weak and wan, "but you are so 
 strong you can do anything; perhaps you ll enjoy it 
 It will be a new experience for you as well as for Louis." 
 
 Barnett slyly winked at his wife. He really wanted 
 to see Ann "jarred." "It 11 do her good to rough it a 
 little," he said, privately. Thereupon, Louis, trem 
 bling with eagerness, began to "rustle his outfit." 
 He bought a pistol, a rifle, and a broad-rimmed hat. 
 He rolled some blankets and tied them, under the 
 instruction of the hostler, who was experienced in such 
 manner of life. He also purchased the most highly 
 ornamental cattle-man s saddle in the Springs, and 
 glowingly explained to Ann what each string and 
 strap was called and what its services were. 
 
 " What a child you are!" she exclaimed, as she watch 
 ed him, her eyes warming with love and pride. " You re 
 a dear boy!" she added, as he came to her side. 
 
 25 
 
Hesper 
 
 He looked up at her tenderly. "You re good to me, 
 Hesper," he said, fervently. 
 
 "Sh! don t ever call me by that absurd name." 
 
 " It isn t absurd. I like it," he said. 
 
 Barnett, seated at his telephone, made every arrange 
 ment for them. "You ll be met by old Jones, and 
 when you get there Mrs. Jones will look after you. 
 She s a very good cook, so don t get nervous when 
 you see her. She s not pretty. Raymond will do his 
 best to entertain you, and when you come back you d 
 better ask Raymond to put his own horses in the 
 cart and drive you out he ll be better company than 
 Jones." 
 
 As the train drew out from the depot and began to 
 climb the hill, Louis stood on the rear platform and 
 swung his cap at Barnett and the coachman; and both 
 made reply, for the boy was on good terms with master 
 and man. 
 
 Ann, again in the Pullman coach, looked out on the 
 tawny landscape and said, "I wish we were on our 
 way home." 
 
 Louis looked up with scared eyes. "You don t mean 
 that, sis. Why, I m just beginning to see things." 
 
Ill 
 
 Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 BARNETT S ranch, one of his chief amusements, 
 lay at the head of a valley surrounding a spring 
 which was the source of Wild Cat Creek. The build 
 ings stood just where the ravine opened out upon a 
 grassy meadow. It was a comfortable place, shielded 
 from the desert winds by the low hills to the north, while 
 a small, artificial pond, gravelled and rimmed with 
 cottonwoods and willows, gave it enviable distinction 
 among the bleak and barren farmsteads. It seemed 
 a very beautiful spot to those who dwelt on the unre 
 lieved plain, for the pond overflowing upon the bog 
 kept it green perennially; and the house, though built 
 of cottonwood logs, was unusually large and well-kept. 
 In brief, it was a show place a shady spot to which 
 lovers drove on a Sunday as to a bower. It was known 
 as the "Goldfish Ranch," for the reason that at one 
 time Barnett had filled the pond with ornamental fish. 
 
 At about five o clock of a hot and windless July day, 
 a horseman galloped swiftly up the valley into the 
 yard, and was met at the door of the house by a tall, 
 composed young fellow in broad hat and spurs. 
 
 "Hello, Perry!" he said, quietly. "You made good 
 time." 
 
 Perry, a young Mexican, showed a score of his white 
 
 27 
 
Hesper 
 
 teeth in a grin. " Here is letter. Some people com- 
 ing to rancho to-night." 
 
 The young man tore the end from the long envelope, 
 and read the letter in silence. His face darkened. 
 "Well, that s a nice case o beans. So they re on the 
 road, are they?" 
 
 "Yes; bout fo miles back." 
 
 The young foreman turned towards the house, from 
 which the faint strains of "Annie Laurie" came. A 
 plump, light -haired young fellow of about thirty sat 
 tilted back in his chair, with one leg thrown across 
 the corner of the table, playing a mouth-organ. His 
 eyes were closed in a musical ecstasy, and his hands, 
 modulating the tone of the instrument, were just open 
 ing into a quavering crescendo when the man with the 
 letter slammed it on the table with such force that the 
 player started to his feet. 
 
 "Hello, Rob! I didn t hear you come in." 
 
 Raymond was in bad humor. "Put up your play 
 thing, you monkey, and listen to me a moment." 
 
 The musician wiped his instrument with his neck 
 erchief while studying his foreman s face. 
 
 "What s up?" 
 
 Raymond pointed at the letter. " Read that. Nice 
 thing the old man works on us." His indignation and 
 disgust deepened into a growl. "This settles it. I m 
 going to pull out." 
 
 The other man composedly took up the letter. 
 "What s he done now?" 
 
 "Going to quarter a crazy kid on us, a New York 
 degenerate, who ll be a confounded nuisance every 
 hour of the day; and that isn t all the kid s sis 
 ter is coming down to stay a few days." Here his 
 
 28 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 dismay was fairly comical. " To get the lad set 
 tled. " 
 
 Baker s eyes widened and his fat face lengthened. 
 "Not comin to-day?" 
 
 "That s what!" 
 
 "And us without no woman round." 
 
 Raymond broke forth again : " That s it, now. You d 
 suppose Barnett would at least read my letters. I told 
 him last week that old Jonesy and his wife were going 
 up to Sky-Town," He turned to the Mexican, who 
 stiH stood in the door, broadly grinning: "How far 
 behind did you say they were?" 
 
 Bout fo miles." 
 
 "Well, we re in for it. We can t turn a woman out 
 on the plain. Jack, you slovenly whelp, set to work 
 and clean up the mess you ve made. Perry, go rope 
 some snags for a fire. Hustle now!" 
 
 Baker opened the letter. "What kind of a girl do 
 you reckon " 
 
 " It don t matter. Any kind is a nuisance just now. 
 She s more than likely to be one of Barnett s Eastern 
 relatives who think we re all half-brothers to red Injuns 
 out here." 
 
 Baker began to read the letter aloud in a monoto 
 nous, painful way, while Raymond moved about the 
 room picking up the litter. 
 
 My dear Rob, I m sending you a new hand and 
 a visitor " 
 
 "Thinks I m running a summer resort," Raymond 
 interrupted, bitterly. 
 
 : They are cousins, and nice people. The lad is not 
 very strong, and I m sending him down to you to get 
 an upward turn. " 
 
 29 
 
Hesper 
 
 Raymond turned. " See ! You thought we were run 
 ning a cattle-ranch; but we re not it s a sanitarium." 
 
 Baker went on, calmly, " He s crazy on the subject 
 of wild animals and cow-boys " 
 
 "Don t you see the meaning of that?" sneered Ray 
 mond. "We re a holy show a Wild West to these 
 people." 
 
 "And is a very clever artist. He ll want to have 
 you pose for him." 1 
 
 Raymond came over and seized the stove-lid lifter 
 as if to break Baker s head. "We re to cook and pur 
 vey like boarding-house keepers, and doctor like a 
 nurse at a health resort, and in addition we re to pose 
 for a delicate youth who thinks we re material. That 
 settles me. I m going up to Sky and take a shy at 
 mining." Baker listened with a fat smile, which ex 
 asperated his boss to danger-point. "Grin, you jack- 
 rabbit. If your chin made a little more noise, you d 
 keep yourself company." 
 
 Baker broke forth into a slow drawl: "Hadn t you 
 better strike a few attitudes so s to be in practice when 
 the boy comes?" 
 
 Raymond throttled him half in earnest. "I ve a 
 mind to wring your neck," he said, through his teeth. 
 Then, suddenly releasing him, he again commanded 
 him to clear away his dishes. 
 
 Baker was not yet finished with the letter. "Hold 
 on. Don t be in a rush. I hain t got to the girl yet 
 that s what interests me. Miss Rupert will only stay 
 a few days to get the lad settled. " 
 
 "She can t stay too quick to suit me." 
 
 Baker s voice took on a little more expression as he 
 read Barnett s appeal. " Now, don t be cranky, old 
 
 30 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 man; the Ruperts are good stuff, and on Mrs.Barnett s 
 account " 
 
 "Ends up by laying me under obligation to his wife, 
 knowing mighty well I d do anything for her. Well, 
 I ll do it, but I reckon the atmosphere won t bake a 
 cake while she s here. I ll leave you and Dutch to 
 do the talking; that 11 chill her cold." 
 
 Baker began to show alarm. "Not by a hatful. 
 Right here is where I take a sneak." 
 
 Raymond s brow darkened and his eyes threatened. 
 "No you don t, my Christian friend and neighbor; you 
 remain right here and do the honors. You will pass 
 for the boss. I ve got to cook." 
 
 " Great Peter! you mustn t do that! I can t carry it 
 through. I m no spieler." 
 
 "Play the mouth-organ for her." 
 
 "Oh, see here, you re joshin ." 
 
 "You won t find it any josh. You ve been getting 
 gay with me lately and need discipline. You pass for 
 the foreman understand? You amuse the girl and 
 pose for the boy, while I knock pots; that is settled. 
 Now take the pail and rustle some water, and don t you 
 peep." 
 
 Perry, entering at the door with an armful of brush, 
 called out, with quiet joy, "The sefiora has come." 
 
 Raymond seized him by the arm. "Listen here, 
 Perry. The old man has written down to say that 
 he has made Jack the boss. I m going to cook a few 
 days, and then I leave. You tell the other boys that 
 Jack Baker is made foreman, and they ve got to obey 
 him you sabbe?" 
 
 Perry grew solemn of face. "I sabbe. If you go, 
 I go." 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Never mind that. Get out there and help take 
 care of the team; and, Jack, you go too " He laid a 
 hand on his back and pushed him through the door 
 way, just as the two-seated hack rounded the corral 
 and drew up to the door. 
 
 " Oh, isn t this fine!" called a clear, boyish voice, and 
 a moment later the cool, deliberate voice of a girl re 
 plied: 
 
 "Oh, what a blessed relief, after the hot sun of the 
 plain!" 
 
 Then Baker was heard to say, with elaborate cour 
 tesy: " Shall I help you out, miss? I reckon you are 
 the friends of the old man I mean Barnett?" And 
 a moment later the young girl stood in the doorway 
 looking out at the plain. Raymond gave her but one 
 glance from the corner of his eyes, but her firm, well- 
 balanced body and calm, high-bred face touched him 
 with admiration. His resolution to be disagreeable 
 weakened, though he kept about his work. There 
 was no mistaking the modishness of her skirt and 
 hat. She was Parisian from crown to toe, and per 
 fectly cool and sweet, in spite of her long and dusty 
 ride. 
 
 " I never knew how grateful the shade of a tree could 
 be," Ann said, partly to Louis and partly to Baker. 
 "The prophet must have had such a country in mind 
 when he spoke of the shadow of a great rock in a weary 
 land. " 
 
 " I m a little weak on poetry, miss," remarked Baker, 
 hesitatingly, "but I know something about the way 
 the sun wallops a man between here and Wallace. But 
 lay off your things ma-make yourself to home." He 
 was twisting his hat into ruin in his agitation. 
 
 32 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 Ann began to draw off her gloves. " Is it always so 
 fiercely bright here?" 
 
 "Oh no, this is an unusual spell. I mean it is 
 rather" 
 
 She was now aware of Raymond moving sullenly 
 about in the gloom wherein the stove sat. He was 
 dressed in a light -tan, loosely fitting shirt, and brown 
 trousers without braces. His spurs rattled at his heels 
 as he walked to and fro, lithe and powerful. He did 
 not look up did not appear to notice what was 
 going on, but came and went at his work, deft and ab 
 sorbed. 
 
 Louis was instantly delighted with the room. "Isn t 
 this ripping!" he exclaimed, as he studied its furnish 
 ings. "Won t this make a strong background for an 
 illustration ? Only that stove isn t it too bad ? that s 
 all out of key. Why don t you have a fireplace, Mr. 
 Raymond?" he asked, turning to Baker. 
 
 Raymond gave Baker a glance, and the plump one 
 waded in: "Too little wood in this country. Cook, 
 draw up a chair for the lady." 
 
 Raymond s eyes flashed with a silent menace, but he 
 did as he was told, and, as he put the chair down for 
 Ann, he dusted it with his hat. 
 
 Louis was husky-voiced with joy. "Did you see 
 that, Ann? I ll have to work that in somewhere." 
 
 Baker continued, in the same tone, "Can t you 
 rustle a little grub for the company, Jack?" 
 
 Raymond curtly replied, "I ll try hard." 
 
 Baker, who was gaining self-control, turned to Ann. 
 "We have to humor our cooks out here. They re 
 scarce and mighty uncertain in their minds stop and 
 shy at nothin , like a locoed steer." 
 3 33 
 
Hesper 
 
 Louis clapped his hands. "Oh, isn t the talk good, 
 Ann? And these chairs aren t they fine?" 
 
 "Cook made em," said Baker. "He s handy as a 
 bootjack with tools." 
 
 Ann ignored the chairs, but studied the cook, whose 
 curiously absorbed, sullen, yet deft movements inter 
 ested her. He appeared to be about thirty years of 
 age, and his lean, powerful figure dignified the rough 
 and dust-stained clothes he wore. His profile was 
 stern and manly, but his chin was youthful. His eyes 
 she had not yet seen. 
 
 Raymond, on his part, was fairly abashed by the 
 grace and youthful charm of his visitor. She reminded 
 him, as she stood there calmly looking about the grimy 
 walls, of the stories he had read of princesses visiting 
 the huts of their peasantry. She was of good height, 
 but the proud lift of her head made her seem taller 
 than she was, and the cut of her gown, the color of her 
 gloves and hat, told of good taste and the service of the 
 best tailors and milliners. "Great Scot!" he said to 
 himself, "she s an up-to-date beauty. What will I do 
 to feed her?" And, imperturbable as he looked, his 
 heart sank within him, and if he could have fled honor 
 ably he would have done so instantly ; but as this was 
 out of the question, he screwed his brows into a still 
 more savage frown and bent to his task. 
 
 Ann was not at her ease for other reasons. Ordina 
 rily the only color in her rather impassive face lay in 
 the vivid scarlet of her lips and the deep gray of her 
 eyes, but the dry wind, playing upon her delicate skin, 
 had filled it with a sense of heat. She believed herself 
 to be scorched to the color of a brick, when, in fact, 
 she was radiant with the most delicate pink. With a 
 
 34 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 sense of appearing ill she was as dazzling as the bride 
 in the songs of Solomon, and the young ranchers were 
 awed and humbled. They wanted to go away and 
 exclaim over their wonderful good - fortune. Baker 
 feared to look at her could not think of anything to 
 say. For a time Louis alone broke the silence. At 
 length Ann turned. "I never was so tired in my life, 
 and my face is burned to a crisp. That wind has fairly 
 stiffened my lips." 
 
 Louis looked at the backs of his hands. "I like it. 
 A few days here will give me a dandy burn. It s just 
 the thing I need. I want to be brown like these men." 
 
 Raymond took no pains to be noiseless or dainty in 
 his work ; but every movement told. He sloshed out the 
 coffee-pot and sliced the bacon and stirred up the fire, 
 all with a grace and quiet dignity which opened Ann s 
 eyes in an effort to understand him. His hands were 
 noticeably fine, and the poise of his head expressed 
 strength and pride. He was very brown, almost as 
 brown as the leather cuffs he wore on his arms. 
 
 Once, when he passed out of hearing, she turned to 
 Baker suddenly and asked: "Why does your cook wear 
 spurs? An affectation, I suppose." 
 
 Baker flushed and stammered. "Well, no; he has 
 to help with the cattle once in a while." 
 
 Raymond called to Perry, who was seated on the 
 doorstep. "Perry, jump your horse and round up a 
 dry cottonwood snag; this brush is of no sort of use. 
 I want a hot fire." 
 
 Louis beamed at Ann. "He s talking just like Wal 
 ter Owen s heroes." 
 
 Ann silenced him. "Hush! He ll hear you." 
 
 Baker, quite ready to take a fall out of Raymond, 
 
 35 
 
Hesper 
 
 interposed: " He s a little hard at first, but reel sociable 
 when you git him started. But he s shy as a rabbit 
 when they s any company round." 
 
 Raymond uttered a cough which made Baker start. 
 "I guess I ll go out and see what that driver has done 
 with his horses." 
 
 Louis sprang up. "I ll go, too, if you don t mind, 
 sis." 
 
 Ann sat with closed lids, resting her aching senses. 
 The ride, after the first moment of exultant joy of the 
 immeasurable tawny plain and the far, translucent- 
 blue mountains, had been an utter weariness. She 
 had stepped from the parlor-car into a rusty, little, two- 
 seated wagon, and almost before she could realize it 
 had been i hot into the midst of a wide, empty, ex 
 pressionless land a land of jack-rabbits and rattle 
 snakes, of barbed and bitter weeds, miserable cabins, 
 and wire fences a land whose grass was scant, hot, 
 and brittle as hair, whose springs were few a land 
 without a tree or a stream, a desert on which the horned 
 toad and the prairie-dog alone seemed cheerful and at 
 peace. 
 
 Her first fleeting interest in the strange blooms and 
 plants, in the delicate color and wonderful lines of the 
 hills, gave way to a sinking of the heart, a deep dismay, 
 as she penetrated farther and farther into this flaming 
 desert. The unkempt men, the slattern women, the 
 desolate huts, the bones of cattle these had at last 
 filled her thought to the exclusion of the glories which 
 Louis was continually discovering. Only when she 
 looked away to the pink-gray and purple domes of the 
 Rampart Range had she been able to find relief from 
 the endless, gray monotony. 
 
 36 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 The lad, however, had taken note of everything. He 
 saw every jack-rabbit, every bird. He discovered in 
 numerable little lizards fleeing before the horses hoofs 
 in the dust. He made the driver wait while he caught 
 a horned toad, and once he killed a rattlesnake. He 
 was wild with delight at the intelligence of a jack- 
 rabbit, which kept under the wire fence in order to 
 escape the swoop of a hawk. 
 
 It had been to Ann not merely an entrance into the 
 life of the common coach; it had been a sudden plunge 
 into the smoking-car, where ranchers, negroes, China 
 men, Mexicans, and dowdy and unlovely women sat 
 discussing the price of cattle and the hay-crop. 
 
 As she looked round the low-ceiled room, in which 
 the flies buzzed, her eyes fell upon a little case of books 
 in the corner. For lack of something better to do, she 
 rose to inspect them. She was surprised to find them 
 mainly essays, and wondered who of these men read 
 Emerson and Burroughs. One of them was a book of 
 verse. Raymond s name was on the fly-leaf. 
 
 "How handsome the cook is!" was her inward ex 
 clamation as she returned to her seat. She was not one 
 of those who sit in silence when they wish information, 
 and, lifting her voice a little, she said: 
 
 "I understood Mr. Barnett to say that you had a 
 woman to cook for you?" 
 
 Raymond shifted a stove-lid. "We did." 
 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 "Gone a week ago." 
 
 "Isn t there any woman about the place?" 
 
 He peered into the coffee-pot. "No one but you. 
 
 Ann sat in silence for a moment. "I don t under 
 stand. Mr. Barnett said 
 
 37 
 
Hesper 
 
 Raymond straightened and looked at her sombrely. 
 "If Barnett paid a little more attention to his ranch 
 and less to polo I wrote him, more than a week 
 ago, that Jonesy was pullin his freight." He returned 
 to his cooking. 
 
 Ann composedly went on, "Was Jones the name of 
 the foreman?" 
 
 "No, he was assistant; but he was married, and his 
 wife was our dough -twister. He s gone to Sky-Town 
 gold camp. The whole country is full o the fever." 
 
 Ann began to feel that she was a little in the way. 
 "I m sorry to trouble you. If I had known, of course, 
 I shouldn t have come down. In fact, if I had realized 
 how desolate it is, I would not have permitted Louis to 
 come. May I take off my hat?" 
 
 Raymond turned quickly. "I beg your pardon I 
 didn t observe why, sure thing!" He wiped his hands 
 on a rod-towel and came forward. "Let me hang it 
 up for you. Mebbe you d like to go in the other room 
 and lie down. I m hustling some grub as fast as I can, 
 and afterwards" he looked about at the bunks 
 "we ll fix a place for you." 
 
 Ann smiled sweetly. " Oh, don t trouble ; I ll be glad 
 to sit here. I am feeling better already." To herself 
 she said, "He has nice eyes." Turning towards him, 
 she quietly said: "You must not bother about me. 
 Can t I help you? I can cook a little. I once went 
 to cooking-school. Won t you let me try?" 
 
 Raymond looked at her delicately colored, hands and 
 fleckless linen. " No, thank you; you d get yourself all 
 tangled up with soot and bacon grease. Besides, it s 
 about ready what there is of it and nough of it, 
 such as tis, as the fello says." 
 
 38 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 Ann, with a note of sympathy in her voice, said: "I 
 don t like to see a big, strong man cook. Do you get 
 extra pay for it?" 
 
 "Not a cent. We all take turns at it, to tell the 
 honest truth." 
 
 "I hope you re the best cook?" 
 
 "That wouldn t be saying much, lady. I cook in 
 self-defence." 
 
 Ann opened her eyes at the significance of this 
 phrase. "Then you don t do it as a a business." 
 
 "Not by a whole row o steers. Do you like prunes 
 and rice?" he asked, hastily. 
 
 Ann looked into the dish which he held out towards 
 her and gravely replied: "I don t think I ever ate any. 
 You don t mean they re cooked together?" 
 
 " That s what. It sure makes a filling combination," 
 said he, dishing some out before her. 
 
 "I can well believe it," she replied, with a humorous 
 intonation. "Let me taste it; perhaps I ll like it." 
 As she nibbled a little of the mess from the spoon, she 
 glanced up at him with a queer little smile that made 
 the room whirl before his eyes. " It seems a nutritious 
 mixture." 
 
 He recovered himself. "Oh, it s a hearty mess, 
 all right. If you re on the lookout for experiences, 
 you ll get em this trip. We re more than half-Injun 
 here, especially since Mrs. Jones pulled out. Any 
 thing that will sustain life goes. My cooking isn t 
 fancy " 
 
 "I beg your pardon," Ann hastened to explain, "I 
 didn t mean to criticise. I didn t intend to hurt your 
 feelings. I m sure it s a very tasty dish." 
 
 "Oh, I don t blame you; but, you see, we re not 
 39 
 
Hesper 
 
 running a summer hotel exactly; still, we ll make you 
 as comfortable as we can while you stay " 
 
 " By which you mean to hint you hope I won t stay 
 long." She was frankly amused. 
 
 He became very sincerely grave. " I didn t say that, 
 lady." 
 
 "But you meant it." 
 
 Raymond scorned to lie. "Well, sit up and do the 
 best you can. The grub isn t as tough as it looks. 
 This coffee I buy myself. We aren t in anywise fitted 
 to cater to delicate appetites, but, as I say, our inten 
 tions are of the best." 
 
 Ann took her seat, filled with singular enjoyment of 
 the cook s embarrassment. "No one ever accused me 
 of having a delicate appetite. It isn t fashionable 
 in these days of golf and tennis." 
 
 Raymond shifted a bowl of sugar her way. "Sony 
 we have no cut-loaf. Where s the invalid?" 
 
 "Do you mean my brother?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " He s not an invalid. He s only a strenuous young 
 ster who needs a change of air." 
 
 "He ll get it." Going to the door, Raymond raised 
 a loud, shrill, quavering call. As he stood on the 
 threshold waiting an answer, his eyes again sought the 
 charming figure at the table, and his blood awoke. He 
 became aware, even through the mist of his resentment 
 and embarrassment, of his amazing good-luck. Ann s 
 eyes being demurely fixed upon her plate, he had op 
 portunity to absorb every detail of her vigorous, well- 
 rounded figure, her dainty yet serviceable clothing, and 
 the graceful and womanly poise of her head. When he 
 spoke again his voice had softened, and Ann experi- 
 
 40 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 enced in the ways of men well understood his change 
 of heart. 
 
 He coughed a little as he weakly began his apology: 
 "As I say, we re not keeping summer boarders, but 
 I ll make you as comfortable as possible, and I hope 
 you ll stay as long as you feel like I mean as long as 
 you think necessary." 
 
 Ann turned a dangerously sweet and winning look 
 upon him. "Thank you. I m not obtuse. I know 
 when I am out of place. I shall flee to-morrow." 
 
 She was forcing his hand, as he well knew, but he re 
 mained gravely simple. "I ll be sorry if our grub, or 
 anything else, should scare you out." 
 
 "Oh, it isn t that. But I don t like to be a burden 
 to any one." 
 
 "Did any one say you were a burden?" 
 
 "No, but you looked it." 
 
 Raymond set his back against the wall and, with a 
 quizzical light in his eyes, replied, "I didn t know you 
 so well when I took that attitude." 
 
 "You mean you didn t know how vigorous my appe 
 tite was?" She changed the subject quickly. "lean 
 see that Louis is to be perfectly happy down here. I 
 am glad I came. I shall feel much more resigned to 
 his being here, now that I have met Mr. Raymond and 
 you." 
 
 Raymond remained inexpressive. "Your brother is 
 an enthusiast, I believe you said. He ll be more char 
 itable than than you, for instance." 
 
 Ann didn t like his emphasis. "I don t wonder at 
 your resentment. Our coming is an imposition, but if 
 I had known Please be kind enough to admit that 
 I didn t know how you were situated." 
 
 41 
 
Hesper 
 
 Raymond resumed his cow-boy manner. "Now, 
 lady, you let that go. I don t blame you a hair. 
 You re here, and I ll see I mean, the boss will see 
 we ll all see that the boy is treated right, and I ll guar 
 antee that he gets a fair share of what s going. I m 
 not apologizing, but I hope you won t take us on the 
 wrong slant. I hope you ll come often you brighten 
 up the place wonderfully." 
 
 Ann drew herself up. "I don t understand you, 
 Mr." 
 
 "Call me cook Mr. Cook; anything goes out 
 here." 
 
 They were now squared before each other, he with a 
 malicious smile lurking at the corner of his mouth, she 
 with dark and puzzled brow. 
 
 "Of course, you cow-boys are all strange to me I 
 mean your manners and customs but my room-mate 
 at college told me a good deal about this life. She was 
 from Colorado." 
 
 He betrayed new interest. "What was your college 
 Smith?" 
 
 Ann lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "No. What 
 made you think it was?" 
 
 Raymond began to retreat. "Oh, I don t know; 
 you seemed about that style. I mean to say, you carry 
 yourself like a Smith College girl that came down here 
 once with Mrs. Barnett." He caught up the water- 
 bucket. "Excuse me a minute; I ll run down to the 
 spring and get some water. His going was equivalent 
 to flight. 
 
 Ann smiled composedly as she sipped her coffee, 
 which was very good indeed. 
 
 Louis burst in at the door. "Sis, you ought to see 
 
 42 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 the corrals out here. They have ninety head of horses 
 think of that! And I m to ride all I want to." 
 
 Baker, who appeared just behind him, put in a drawl 
 ing word: " Feared like he wanted to ride four to 
 once, like a circus-man. Are you get tin somethin to 
 eat, miss?" 
 
 "Oh yes, indeed." 
 
 Louis, throwing down his cap in imitation of Ray 
 mond, cried out, "I m hungry." 
 
 Ann turned to Baker. "Mr. Foreman, isn t there 
 something mysterious about your cook? Part of the 
 time he speaks like a man of the world and part of 
 the time like a rancher. I think he s playing a part, 
 and playing it badly." 
 
 "What makes you think so?" asked Louis. "They 
 say he s a bully rider." 
 
 "They ain t none better, miss," replied Baker, who 
 began to look a little uneasy. 
 
 Ann pursued her point. "I think he s one of those 
 romantic cow-boys who have seen better days per 
 haps an English nobleman in disguise." 
 
 Baker was always ready when a chance to get even 
 with Raymond offered itself. He puckered his plump 
 face into a frown of deep concern. "I guess you re 
 some right, miss; but he ain t no English lord, I don t 
 think. We never inquire very close into a man s pedi 
 gree out here if he can ride a cayuse and flip a gun ; but 
 he s American, all right, and a good cook." 
 
 "Is Cook his real name?" 
 
 Baker became cautious. "Did he say his name was 
 Cook? If he did, that goes. I m not in the habit of 
 disputing him." 
 
 "No, he didn t tell his name, but he intimated 
 43 
 
Hesper 
 
 I might call him Cook. Your name is Raymond, 
 isn t it?" 
 
 Baker was again slow to answer. "Did he intimate 
 that my name was Raymond?" 
 
 "No, but Mr. Barnett said the foreman s name was 
 Raymond, and you re the foreman, aren t you?" 
 
 Baker seemed resigned. "We ll let it go at that. 
 We don t mind little things out here, miss. Never go 
 behind the returns anywhere in this Western country." 
 
 Ann, after looking at him in silence, remarked, 
 gravely, "Of course, you re both having fun with us, 
 because we re from the East, and I don t think it quite 
 nice in you." 
 
 Baker began to look distressed. "Oh, see here, 
 miss, you mustn t think You re all wrong! Why, 
 we re delighted we you see " 
 
 Ann turned to Louis. "Louis, you are living out 
 one of Owen s stories this very minute. I want you to 
 stay here until you can meet these people on their own 
 ground." She faced Baker again. " Tell me more about 
 this cook. He s a college man, and there s some hid 
 den mystery as the story-books say. What brought 
 him to this pass? Is he a fugitive from justice?" 
 
 Baker took a seat and appeared to ponder. "Well, 
 now, I don t like to say. You see, it ain t safe to 
 tell tales on Cook. If you ll swear not to breathe a 
 word " 
 
 " Hold up your hands, Louis, and swear!" cried Ann. 
 "Of course, we won t tell." 
 
 Baker settled into his chair. "You mustn t blame 
 him till you hear the hull story, but he killed a feller 
 back East, somewhere in Illinois." 
 
 Ann started melodramatically. "Rea 1 ly?" 
 
 44 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 Baker, pleased with his success, added, "Two of em, 
 in fact." 
 
 Louis, wide-eyed with interest, "What did he do it 
 for?" 
 
 Baker, glowing with pleasure in the work of his own 
 imagination, cut loose from his moorings. "It was 
 this way. He was courting a girl the daughter of a 
 rich farmer and her family was hot because Rob was 
 poor, and her dad put another feller on to tell lies about 
 Rob s drinkin and all that, and Rob met up with this 
 feller and just naturally piped him full of soft -nose 
 bullets; that led him to seek higher altitudes, as the 
 newspapers say. Now that s the plain truth of the 
 whole business, as I heard it." 
 
 Ann pretended to shudder. "He doesn t look like 
 that sort of desperado." 
 
 "He don t now, does he? But that s the way it 
 goes. Couldn t meet a peaceabler man when he s so 
 ber. Set here and read them books all day long ; but 
 you let him get red-headed once, and whisp, out comes 
 his gun, and then everybody hunts a hole, I tell 
 you." 
 
 Louis pursued the inquiry, "Who was the other man 
 he killed?" 
 
 "The deppity-sherf. Had to do that to get away." 
 
 Ann looked about. "You say he reads these books?" 
 
 "When he has time he dotes on em." 
 
 "Do you read them?" 
 
 "Great Scot, no! I d go to sleep over such things. 
 The Boy s Own is about my size." 
 
 Ann s tone was reflective. "That s queer. Mr. Bar- 
 nett said you were a great reader." 
 
 Baker paled, then got red. He had walked into a 
 
 45 
 
Hesper 
 
 clever little trap. He wriggled in his chair. "Did he 
 say that? Well I I used to, but lately " 
 
 Ann looked at him keenly and said, calmly: "You 
 also are an impostor. Your name isn t Raymond 
 you re not the foreman. You are all bandits and have 
 stolen my cousin s ranch, and are running it to suit 
 yourselves. I believe you killed poor old Mr. Jones 
 and his wife." 
 
 Louis sprang to his feet. "Ann, what do you mean ?" 
 
 Baker threw up both hands. "Hold on! Don t 
 shoot. I ll come down. I knew I couldn t keep the 
 game going." He rose, and his manner changed. 
 "Now listen. I ll tell you the square-toed truth. It 
 was my turn to cook, and Raymond that s our boss 
 when he heard you was comin , knowin I couldn t cook 
 sour-bran mash, says: Baker, you ll have to play boss 
 while the company s here. I ve got to toss up the ba 
 con and prunes. Now that s the God s fact, lady." 
 
 Ann, with conviction, turned to Louis: "Now I be 
 lieve he s telling the truth. What is your name?" 
 
 "John Edwin Baker Jack, the boys call me. I 
 never had any other name, I m sorry to say, and 
 I came here from Kansas. I never killed anything 
 bigger n a coyote. I m just a plain cow-puncher at 
 twenty-six per month." 
 
 Ann was deeply moved by this honesty. "Won 
 derful!" 
 
 "Furthermore, I don t want to kill anybody," ex 
 claimed Baker. 
 
 "Louis, this is your opportunity. Do a picture of 
 a good, honest, sober cow-boy and send it to Puck." 
 She turned to Jack. "Thank you very much, Mr. 
 Baker. I think I understand the situation now." 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 Louis looked relieved, for Baker had not appealed to 
 him very strongly. He was fat, and a fat cow-boy 
 seemed out of conformity with all his preconceived 
 notions. 
 
 Raymond, reappearing at the door, put them all into 
 guilty confusion. His eyes were too keen to be with 
 stood, and Ann s lashes fell for a moment as he offered 
 the dipper. "Like a cool drink, lady?" 
 
 She recovered herself instantly. "Thank you, if 
 you will be so kind." 
 
 Raymond threw a glance at Baker that propelled 
 him through the doorway as palpably as a kick, then 
 turned to Louis. " How does the grub go, youngster?" 
 
 " Bully!" replied the boy, as he took up a spoonful of 
 rice. His eyes followed the lithe figure of the rancher 
 with joy. 
 
 Raymond abruptly inquired, "What are you squint- 
 in at me for, boy?" 
 
 "I m going to draw you." 
 
 "Well, draw me purty, or there ll be war." 
 
 " My, but you re built for a rider! Can you throw a 
 lariat?" 
 
 "We call it a rope out here. Yes, I can do a trick or 
 two with it ; but our days of roping cattle are just about 
 done with." 
 
 Ann cut in with a grave face, belied by something in 
 her voice. "I didn t suppose a foreman would stoop 
 to cook." 
 
 The young fellow frowned. "What s that?" 
 
 Ann went on, " I think it s nice of you, Mr. Raymond, 
 to abase yourself to the rim of a kettle." 
 
 "Excuse me, lady, but " He looked about for 
 Baker. 
 
 47 
 
Hesper 
 
 Ann interposed: "That s twice you ve called me 
 lady. No real cow-boy ever does that, I m told, so 
 you must be an impostor." 
 
 Raymond s face flushed with anger. "See here! 
 What has that fat jackass been saying to you about 
 me?" 
 
 Ann, calmly smiling, made her charges specific. 
 "You re not the cook. You re called Robert Ray 
 mond. You re the foreman and a graduate of Har 
 vard University, like all superior cow-boys, and you 
 have gallantly volunteered to cook, in order that we 
 might eat. Now, isn t this true?" 
 
 Raymond was stunned for a moment, but as she 
 went on his head lifted and into his eyes leaped a 
 spark of red light. "Wait till I sight that scoundrel. 
 You ll have a fine chance to study a cow-boy in action. 
 What else did he say?" 
 
 Louis was becoming alarmed. "Don t tell, Ann; 
 he ll hurt him." 
 
 Raymond turned to Louis. "Now I know he needs 
 killing. Did he tell you I had a private graveyard, 
 and that I had a stage name?" 
 
 "Oh yes," replied Ann, sweetly. "He told us all 
 about your fight with your rival. It was very thrilling. 
 It s like being a character in a novel one s self. I m 
 quite exalted by the thought." 
 
 Raymond s eyes ceased to glower, a faint smile 
 quivered at the corners of his lips as he bowed grace 
 fully. "Miss Rupert, permit me to astonish you still 
 more. My name, though alliterative, is my own. I 
 have never killed a man" he looked towards the 
 door "that incredible ass will be my first. I am not 
 a .graduate of Harvard, and I did not leave my na- 
 
 48 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 tive town between two days. Does this disappoint 
 you?" 
 
 "Most deeply. Are there no mitigating circum 
 stances?" 
 
 "None whatever. I am hopelessly commonplace. 
 I m not even a cow-boy. I m foreman of a hay- 
 ranch." 
 
 "You destroy our dreams. But these books are 
 yours?" 
 
 Raymond s eyes wavered. "Well, yes some of 
 them; but I don t care to pose as the student -rancher. 
 The boys respect me now because I can ride a horse 
 and pitch hay. I make it a point not to air my other 
 accomplishments 
 
 He was interrupted by a series of faint yells, and as 
 they all listened the swift trample of horses hoofs could 
 be heard. Louis sprang up, all excitement, his eyes 
 glowing. 
 
 "What is that Indians?" 
 
 Raymond smiled at Ann. "No, only a bunch of 
 cow-boys passing." He stepped to the door to study 
 their approach. "It s a mob of Williams s men. I 
 don t know what they re doing here." The rush and 
 trample of hoofs swept nearer, and a group of five 
 drab-colored horsemen drew up at the hitching-pole 
 with loud outcries, each man setting his pony on end 
 with a wrench at the reins. 
 
 "Hello, Bob!" shouted the leader. 
 "Howdy, boys howdy?" he replied, coldly. It was 
 plain he was not well pleased by their inopportune 
 call. 
 
 "Got anything to eat?" asked one of them, as he 
 swaggered up. 
 
 4 49 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Sure thing. Tidy up and come in." Raymond, 
 turning to Ann, said, gently, "Perhaps you and the 
 boy had better step into the other room ; this gang is 
 coming in." 
 
 "They re not dangerous?" 
 
 " No, but some of them are not fit to eat in the pres 
 ence of a lady." 
 
 "Louis will want to see your guests." 
 
 "Very well," replied Raymond, and turned to meet 
 his visitors, who appeared fresh from a hasty toilet. 
 "Come right in, boys. What s the best word from 
 over the ridge?" 
 
 The man who entered first was a big, raw-boned, 
 wide - mouthed, freckle - faced fellow, who gaped in 
 amazement as he caught sight of Ann. " Hello, what s 
 all this?" he asked, hunching the man next him. 
 
 The insolent vulgarity of his tone brought a flush of 
 anger to Raymond s face. " Shut up!" he commanded, 
 in a low voice. Then added, in explanation, "Some 
 of Barnett s folks visiting the ranch." At the moment 
 he hated them all with a sudden realization of their 
 essential cheapness and their filthy manners. 
 
 As they took seats each man glanced at Ann with 
 furtive, devouring eyes, and she thrilled under the 
 scrutiny as she would have done beneath the glare of 
 a wolf. She had a sudden sense of danger. "I am 
 getting close to the elemental man," she thought, and 
 by contrast Raymond assumed new interest. Though 
 his clothing was almost as rough as theirs, his face and 
 voice betrayed good blood and refinement. She won 
 dered whether Wayne Peabody could stand between 
 such a mob of ruffians and a woman. This man Ray 
 mond dominated them easily. She imagined them 
 
 50 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 worse than they were, for they were only a group of 
 mongrel, misbegotten types, ludicrously egotistic, jeal 
 ous of their reputations, and careless of the rights of 
 others. Each fellow talked boisterously, in order to 
 show that he was as good as anybody else. 
 
 Louis sat as one entranced, studying the groupings 
 in the sunset light, which had begun to dim a little. To 
 him these men were heroic. Their physical hardihood, 
 their slouching grace, their rumpled hair, their tag- 
 ends of kerchiefs, and greasy belts and cuffs were all 
 "bang-up material." The avid glare under which Ann 
 shivered was hidden from the eyes of the boy; but 
 Raymond took note of every nudge, every wink that 
 passed, and once or twice he fixed his eyes on the man 
 they called Speckle in a look which stayed a coarse jest 
 upon his lawless lips. 
 
 They talked of the great, new mining-camp on the 
 side of Mogalyon, whereto they were all bound. 
 "They re strikin it rich in the grass-roots, and we re 
 going up to take a hand in it. Why, last week they 
 made three strikes on Pine Mountain within fifteen feet 
 of the surface. They say the placer is turning out ten 
 dollars a day. So we re riding up to turn a rock on our 
 own account. The cattle business is done for. Gold- 
 chasing is the game now." 
 
 " Say, Raymond," called out a little man down by the 
 stove, "you d better hustle out your gang and meet 
 that fire; it s comin right over the ridge this way, and 
 is getting worse every minute." 
 
 Raymond s face betrayed keen interest. I ve been 
 trying to locate that fire all day. It s over about 
 Round Top, isn t it?" 
 
 11 Oh no. It s away this side. Look s like it s sure 
 
 5 1 
 
Hesper 
 
 to take Williams s hay, if he don t watch out, and yours, 
 too." 
 
 "Why didn t you ride over and see just where it 
 was?" asked Raymond. 
 
 "Too busy," Speckle replied, loudly, and the others 
 laughed. "I m after gold now. I m sick o forkin 
 hay." 
 
 Raymond s voice grew sterner. "You didn t leave 
 Williams short-handed to fight that fire?" 
 
 "No matter whether we did or not; we ve got done. 
 Our time was up; we ve got our pay. He can fight 
 his own fire; we re not responsible." They all laughed 
 as though this were a good joke. 
 
 Raymond s next words were as cold and calm as 
 they were unexpected. "You get up and get out o 
 here, every man of you. I mean now." His anger 
 broke out as they stared. "I don t feed men who 
 leave a rancher short-handed with a fire rampin down 
 on him." He rose and stood beside the door. 
 
 Speckle rose and stared in silence, coffee dripping 
 from his jaws. "You want o go easy with me, Rob 
 Raymond; you ve done me dirt enough already." 
 
 Raymond s face was pallid with passion. " Get out!" 
 
 They perceived his deadly earnestness, and tramped 
 out, but Speckle blustered : " I see you again. I get you 
 for this. You crawl for this." 
 
 Raymond s hand dropped upon his shoulder, and he 
 landed outside the door on all-fours. With his hand 
 on his revolver, the young foreman stepped out and 
 watched them mount. 
 
 Ann could hear their threats as they rode away, 
 and Louis, breathless, absorbed, his mouth open, stood 
 in the doorway. 
 
 52 
 
Raymond of the Goldfish Ranch 
 
 "What s the matter, Rob?" asked some one outside. 
 
 "Those mangy curs have deserted, leaving Williams 
 short-handed, with a fire over on Porcupine Creek and 
 coming his way. I wouldn t feed them when I found 
 out what they had done." 
 
 "That s like Speck. He has no more honor than a 
 wild-cat." 
 
 Raymond did not acknowledge, even to himself, that 
 the attitude of the ruffians towards Ann was also a 
 sufficient cause for kicking them out, and the worst of 
 the whole affair was, he now stood in the foolish atti 
 tude of a man who has bullied a crowd of cowards in 
 order to display his own honor and courage before a 
 woman. When he came back into the room he was 
 again sullen and silent. 
 
IV 
 Life and Death 
 
 AtfN had been absorbed in a study of the cow-boys. 
 In her own walk of life, even the basest of men 
 approached her clad in linen and broadcloth sleek 
 beasts with civility ; but here were males whose lean 
 jaws clamped upon food with the eager haste of wolves, 
 men primitive as Picts, with less of law than Zulus. 
 They were not outlaws from society, for they had never 
 known society. They were desperadoes for diversion. 
 
 Raymond s motive in thrusting them out appeared 
 more and more a deed to win applause. It lowered 
 him, made him less admirable in every way, and when 
 he spoke to her she withdrew into herself with a glance 
 which chilled and depressed him. 
 
 " Of course his character is of no consequence to me," 
 she thought, "except in so far as he is likely to influ 
 ence Louis." The situation suddenly lost its spirit of 
 comedy and took on a very serious cast. The plan of 
 leaving a sensitive, poetic boy to the company and 
 influence of men like these became questionable, even 
 dangerous. Baker was a foolish and stupid person, 
 and these rough riders troubled her; but Raymond, to 
 whom the boy s eyes already turned with fervent ad 
 miration, was more corrupting still, for whatever weak 
 nesses he might have would surely come to be active 
 
 54 
 
Life and Death 
 
 and vital forces in debasing others. The whole design, 
 in the light of this encounter, assumed the face of folly, 
 
 "I will not leave him here," she resolved, "to be 
 coarsened and perhaps attainted by these savage men. 
 Why, it were better to send him among the Choctaws." 
 
 She was deeply shaken, rendered unwontedly timid 
 by this turn of affairs. What madness to have ex 
 posed herself to the flare of withering sunshine on that 
 long ride ! What insanity to have isolated herself from 
 her friends, her protectors! and yet this thrill of fear 
 was not without a singular sort of pleasure. 
 
 She could feel once more My fear, at least, is vivid. 
 Life being stripped of its forms, its silken covering, took 
 on power, just as storms are more vital than calms. 
 This powerful young rancher, a mixture of barbarism 
 and culture, engrossed her quite as a mountain-lion 
 might have done. His action could not be foretold, 
 and she was amazed to find herself carried entirely out 
 side herself, shaken and dismayed. As he set to work 
 to put the table in order, silent and sullen as before, 
 she watched him from her corner with intent gaze. 
 "How deeply can I trust him?" she asked herself. 
 "Don admires him, and he certainly is a man of in 
 telligence." 
 
 Louis, who had gone to see the sunset, called to her 
 excitedly, and as she stepped outside the door she, too, 
 caught her breath in wonder and admiration, finding 
 herself face to face with a new world a world so big 
 and bare and lonely that her native city seemed but a 
 fleck on the mind s horizon. Far to the southeast a 
 tower of smoke rose. This was the burning grass of 
 Porcupine Creek. Over a swell from the north a couple 
 of horsemen were loping steadily, homing animals, 
 
 55 
 
Hesper 
 
 weary with their long day s ride over the range. Their 
 ponies feet made no sound. The smoke of the far-off 
 fire rose silently. The wind lay flat and breathless 
 along the sod, like a runner utterly spent. A nut- 
 like flavor filled the air a smell of ripened grass, 
 dusty yet aromatic. 
 
 " If we had hunted the world over, we could not have 
 found a place more remote from all we have ever 
 known," she said to Louis. 
 
 The boy turned, his eyes ablaze. "I like it!" he 
 exclaimed, almost defiantly. "I don t know why, but 
 it is beautiful to me! It is magnificent! And those 
 mountains I want to climb them the way father 
 did. I want to explore their canons. I want to tell 
 our friends how beautiful they are." 
 
 Ann turned to the dim purple range, crumpled into 
 ridges and slashed with deep valleys. "They may be 
 alluring to you, laddie, but they scare me a little. 
 Well, perhaps you ll be able to go and see what they 
 are like by-and-by, when you are stronger." 
 
 " Perhaps Rob will take me. I wouldn t be afraid of 
 anything with him. He s a splendid type. Don t you 
 think so?" 
 
 Ann smiled, but answered, doubtfully, "He seems a 
 fine, resolute fellow." Her sisterly anxiety reappeared. 
 "But I don t like to leave you here, Buddie. These 
 men, the best of them, seem rough and reckless. I 
 think you d better go back with me really I do." 
 
 " Oh no ! I m all right here, sis. Rob will look after 
 me. It s just what I need." 
 
 "Maybe it is for the best, but I have a feeling that 
 something is going to happen to you. I don t like to 
 go back without you. I ll stay on a day or two longer, 
 
 56 
 
Life and Death 
 
 anyhow. I want to find out more about conditions 
 here. I have a queer feeling at my heart. I don t 
 want to leave you." 
 
 She was not given to presentiments, but as she im 
 agined that pale and fragile boy surrounded by rude 
 and unsympathetic cow -herders, the keen point of 
 some mysterious, almost maternal, pain touched her. 
 The loneliness and silence of this majestic world ceased 
 to allure; they became a menace. "Let us go in," she 
 said, putting her arm about his neck. " I am tired. I 
 was never so tired in my life." 
 
 "Lean on me. I m feeling fine," he stoutly replied. 
 
 A kerosene-lamp stood among the dishes, and the 
 driver of their team and the two late-coming horsemen 
 and the Mexican boy were all eating together. Ray 
 mond was not to be seen, and Ann realized, with a pang 
 of dismay, how wholly she was depending upon him. 
 "Without him I shall be scared," she admitted to her 
 self. The other men paid very little direct attention to 
 her beyond a moment s awkward pause and a lowering 
 of their voices. They continued to discuss the fire and 
 their day s work. It was plain that they were of dif 
 ferent temper from the crowd Raymond had thrown 
 from the door, and yet they were not prepossesing. 
 
 The liveryman, a short, dirty, and very assertive 
 man of small wit, was maintaining himself against one 
 of the riders in an argument. "I punched cattle all 
 over them hills," he was saying. "I know it s all an 
 other fake like that old Mount Horeb business in 70. 
 It s nothin but a cattle-range a lot o smooth hills " 
 
 " But they ve found the gold; they can t be no ques 
 tion about it now. I ve got a brother up there, and 
 he writes me " 
 
 57 
 
Hesper 
 
 "They told the same kind o yarns about Horeb, and 
 see how it turned out. They ain t an ounce o gold in 
 this whole Rampart Range. It ain t the right kind of 
 formation." 
 
 "Well, I m goin up there, anyhow," said Baker, 
 "as soon as Barnett can fill my place." 
 
 "So am I," said one of the other cow-boys, a dark, 
 smileless fellow of nearly forty years of age. 
 
 "They re talking about Sky-Camp," whispered Louis, 
 "the new mining-town." 
 
 Ann nodded, and again the unimaginable strange 
 ness of her position swept over her. The action and 
 accents of the characters before her were more unreal, 
 more alien, than any play she had ever seen. They were 
 more unaccountable than figures seen in a dream. The 
 yellow flame of the lamp, shooting straight into their 
 uncouth faces, transformed them into wind- worn masks 
 only their eyes remained unclouded of the weather. 
 The flaming sunlight of the long day had produced in 
 each a habit of squinting, and left a fine clutch of lines 
 at the outer corner of each lid. Every garment they 
 wore was tanned and faded. They lounged on the ta 
 ble with their elbows, like tired men, and their spurs 
 clattered and rasped along the floor with every un 
 easy shifting of their aching feet. They were engines 
 wrought into adaptation to certain uses hardly human 
 to her. They were loyal and respectful she could see 
 that and yet the mere thought of remaining in the 
 house unprotected troubled her. There was very little 
 comfort in the sight of Baker s fat, inert face, but some 
 thing chivalrous and considerate went out from Ray 
 mond in spite of his moody silences and abrupt ways. 
 
 The talk among the men shifted again to a discussion 
 
 58 
 
Life and Death 
 
 of the fire. " I hope Bob won t order us out to fight it 
 to-night. I m tired as a dog," said one of the men. 
 
 "The way I put it up is this," bleated the liveryman. 
 "That fire started from somebody campin over on 
 Birch Creek, and it s way beyond the ridge. It s got 
 to cross that rocky wash before it can do any damage." 
 
 "Well, we ll know when Rob gets back," replied 
 Baker, and Ann inferred from this that Raymond had 
 ridden away to locate the fire, and heartily hoped he 
 would not be gone long. 
 
 The men shoved back, one by one, and with sly, 
 curious glances at the girl, sitting so cold and white and 
 still against the wall, went out to smoke and discuss 
 her with the driver. Baker, mindful of his duties, re 
 mained. "Don t be uneasy, miss; one of us will stay 
 here, anyhow." 
 
 Ann was thinking. "A year ago I was in the Tyrol, 
 and now oh, it is incredible! Did any one ever do 
 such a foolish, such an insane thing as this?" 
 
 Louis was looking over his sketching material, his 
 mind busy with plans for work, when a shout outside 
 announced Raymond s return. The lad rushed to the 
 door. "Oh, Ann, come quick!" he called, a moment 
 later. "Here he comes oh, can t he ride!" 
 
 Ann reached the door just as Raymond dashed up 
 and swung from his saddle; his voice was not loud, but 
 it was stirring. "Boys, the fire is climbing the ridge, 
 and we ve got to fight it. Gather up your blankets and 
 gunny-sacks. We ll find Williams over there with some 
 water-barrels. Hustle now! I ll be along a little later. 
 Tom, you take charge till I come." 
 
 With groans and half -jocular curses, the weary men, 
 loyal to their duty, scattered to rope fresh ponies and 
 
 59 
 
Hesper 
 
 gather up such material as they had for fighting flame, 
 while Raymond came to the door and brusquely said 
 to Ann: "I ll leave Baker to look after you, Miss Ru 
 pert. I hope you won t mind." 
 
 " Oh, certainly not," said Ann, as firmly as she could. 
 
 "I d like to go along," cried Louis. "May I?" 
 
 "You re needed right here," Raymond sternly re 
 plied. "We re likely to be out all night, and your 
 sister needs you." 
 
 " Couldn t Baker go in your place?" asked Ann, very 
 quietly. 
 
 "Jack isn t very energetic. No, it s my duty." 
 
 " That s why I d rather you stayed," Ann said. " If 
 we should be attacked by Indians, or anything, Mr. 
 Baker might be asleep." 
 
 He laughed. "Indians! There aren t any within 
 two hundred miles of here." 
 
 "But you said you d take care of us, and Mr. Bar- 
 nett has consigned us to your care." 
 
 He warmed beneath the allurement of her glance. 
 "But how would it look for the boss to remain com 
 fortably at home while a fire " 
 
 "You re not the boss you re only the cook." 
 
 His face lighted up. "True enough!" After a mo 
 ment s hesitation he added: "Very well, consider me 
 your protector and cook. Baker is in for it," and he 
 went away, filled with a delicious sense of having sud 
 denly been honored above his desert. 
 
 Ann was accustomed to men who flew to do her 
 bidding, but this instant victory over the big rancher 
 pleased her unaccountably, and she laughed softly, 
 acknowledging a gloW of confidence and relief in the 
 promise of his presence. 
 
 60 
 
Life and Death 
 
 Louis turned a sorrowful look on her. "I wish 1 
 could go, sis; it s just the kind of thing I want to see; 
 but, of course, I can t." 
 
 "No, you are my knight, Buddie, and I can t spare 
 you. Is your revolver loaded? This may be your 
 time of trial. I feel very weak and defenceless here 
 in this lonely, horrible land." 
 
 He took a small, shining weapon from his pocket and 
 gazed at it ruefully. "I showed this to Jack, and he 
 laughed. He said such a popper as that wouldn t kill 
 a jay-bird." 
 
 "Perhaps he was joking you. It looks very for 
 midable to me. Anyhow, it s all you have, and we 
 must prize it. I ll send you down a larger one next 
 week." 
 
 Out by the corrals, the trampling and snorting of 
 excited ponies could be heard mingled with the mut 
 tered oaths of the men as they hurriedly roped and sad 
 dled. The sky was darkening rapidly, and the pillar 
 of smoke already glowed like a brazen tower. It rose 
 straight into the air for hundreds of feet, then spread 
 away into a long, level cloud, showing that the wind 
 had not yet begun to fan the flame. 
 
 At last the men were all mounted, and, with a final 
 command from the boss, spurred away into the gloom, 
 complaining, weary, but faithful. Raymond felt a little 
 foolish as he faced the liveryman from Wallace. 
 
 "No, I m not going at least not till I get Barnett s 
 people fixed for the night. You ll have to bunk in the 
 tool-shed, I reckon." 
 
 "That s all right. I ll curl down close to my team. 
 I don t want to run any risks with a lot of toughs like 
 that Williams s gang cavortin around. They had just 
 
 61 
 
Hesper 
 
 liquor enough aboard to make em reckless. I d ad 
 vise you to look out for old Turkey Egg there ; he has it 
 in for you." 
 
 Raymond was unimpressed. They re half-way to 
 Wallace by this time, and, besides, Speck is a big bluff, 
 anyway. We re rid of him forever." 
 
 "Well, all is, when you meet him next you pull 
 first," the little man replied, very seriously. 
 
 Raymond walked slowly towards the house, filled 
 with a guilty joy. Instead of a night of hard riding 
 and laborious wet -bag swinging, he had given himself 
 the pleasure of sitting in conversation with a beautiful 
 and cultured girl. "I haven t earned this," he ad 
 mitted. " I don t deserve it. It s too good to be true, 
 but Barnett will approve. Anyhow, I m going to en 
 joy it while I can." 
 
 Nevertheless, this sense of being a sneak and a cheat 
 threw over him a gloomy and preoccupied air which 
 vexed Ann, who began to question him very much as 
 she would have done had she discovered unusual pow 
 ers in her coachman. " How do you happen to be out 
 here, Mr. Raymond?" 
 
 He replied, bluntly: "I don t know. I came here 
 six years ago, because I hadn t any trade and the cat 
 tle business was attractive, and I ve been here ever 
 since." 
 
 "But you are wasting your time and talents." 
 
 For a moment he meditated a jocular reply, but at 
 last gravely said: " I know it ; at least I ve begun to feel 
 so lately, but I ve drifted along from year to year. 
 The fact is, I don t know what else I could go into, and 
 then there s something fine about this life, after all. 
 It s free and wholesome. No man is my master. I m 
 
 62 
 
Life and Death 
 
 afraid I couldn t stand any sort of confinement now. 
 In short, it s easier to drift than to row." 
 
 There was a note of despondency in his voice, in vio 
 lent contrast with the power and decision of his splen 
 did body, and Ann began to regret having started him 
 on that line of thought. 
 
 "Yes, it s always easier to go with the tide," she 
 said, musingly. "But in a big, strong man like you 
 it seems less admirable than in a woman." 
 
 " I don t admire myself," he replied. "I ve felt like 
 a dough -boy for some time, and well, I m just 
 about decided to try my luck up at the big camp. I 
 wish you would take a letter to Barnett, and be sure 
 that he reads it. I want him to send another man 
 down here to take my place. But, see here, you re 
 both tired and want to go to bed. He rose and lighted 
 a second lamp. "Mrs. Barnett s bed is in this room" 
 he opened a door on the side opposite "I ll see if it 
 is prepared." 
 
 Ann interposed. "Oh no! I m not so helpless as 
 that. Let me take the light. I will do very well, 
 never fear." 
 
 He yielded to her. "I ll get you some water, and I 
 hope there are some clean towels. Let me know if 
 there is anything else I can do." 
 
 "You are very thoughtful." 
 
 "We try to keep that room ready, so that when the 
 folks come down it will be tolerable." 
 
 "I m quite sure it will do," she said, definitely, and 
 entered the room. 
 
 Raymond turned to Louis. "Youngster, can you 
 shoot?" 
 
 "Not very well." 
 
 63 
 
Hesper 
 
 " Learn. A man going round this country with a 
 young woman wants to be prepared for war. He may 
 never have any need of a gun, and then again, unex 
 pected, he may. A gang of hoboes like that to-day is 
 dangerous when they get to drinking, and it stands a 
 man in hand " He made a sign commanding silence. 
 
 Ann reappeared with a pitcher in her hands. "If 
 you ll fill this for me?" 
 
 "With pleasure," he quickly replied. After filling it 
 and placing it in her room, he asked: " Now, which bag 
 is yours? I ll pass that in." 
 
 " This one. But where are you and Louis to 
 sleep?" 
 
 "Right here." He caught at a sort of frame hung 
 upon the wall. It fell and was transformed into a 
 bunk. "Right here, close beside your door, I ll put 
 the youngster. I ll not take much sleep to-night. The 
 boys will need some hot coffee when they come in." 
 He walked to the door and stood there looking away 
 towards the fire. "I m afraid they ve an all-night job 
 of it. The mountain wind is springing up." 
 
 " If you really feel that you ought to go " she began, 
 rather feebly. 
 
 "Would you feel safer if I stayed?" His voice pos 
 sessed a note of tenderness as he asked this question. 
 His tail form, outlined on the outer darkness, again 
 appealed to her with power. 
 
 She hesitated. " I never was among I mean I have 
 never been separated from my kind in this way before. 
 I am a city dweller, and, I confess, I am a little ner 
 vous." 
 
 "Then you d like me to stay?" he insisted. 
 
 "Yes, I wish you would." 
 
 64 
 
Life and Death 
 
 Then I will do so. I m sure Barnett will excuse 
 me when he knows " 
 
 Something a whip, a pistol snapped far out in 
 the darkness, a little slapping sound, a puff of dust rose 
 from Raymond s broad breast, and he put his hand to 
 his heart with a quick, indrawn gasp of pain. "Oh!" 
 
 "What was that?" asked Ann. 
 
 He swayed back against the door-frame, and a yel 
 low-white pallor came to his face. "Some one has 
 touched me," he said, slowly, through his set teeth. 
 " It s that cowardly hound Speck. Go call your driver. 
 I m shot." He tried to walk to a chair, but reeled and 
 fell. 
 
 Ann s first impulse was towards laughter. It was so 
 absurd, so melodramatic, so perfectly impossible. "He 
 is trying to frighten us," she thought, looking down at 
 him, but Louis ran out screaming for Watson. 
 
 Raymond partly rose and faced her. Big drops of 
 agony-sweat gleamed on his forehead. "It s no joke," 
 he gasped, seeming to divine her feeling. "He s put 
 it right through, just above my heart. Don t let me 
 bleed to death," he ended, with guttural harshness, and 
 began to tear at his coat in the effort to get it off. 
 "Damn him to shoot in the dark " And as he 
 took away his hand and studied his palm, which was 
 red with blood, Ann s heart grew sick with horror. 
 Her limbs grew numb and weak. Then, as she watched 
 him tearing feebly at his coat, the long-dormant woman 
 in her awoke. She ceased to tremble and fell on her 
 knees beside him. 
 
 " Let me help you," she said, and her voice was calm 
 and clear, her fingers firm. When his coat was off, he 
 sank again exhausted, breathing hard. 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Cut away my shirt get at that hole and plug it," 
 he commanded. "Anything that will fill it. You ll 
 find some scissors there in that box in the window " 
 
 His shirt was wet with blood, and yet the girl clipped 
 it away with steady hands. He looked down at the 
 wound and then smiled up at her. "I m all right. It 
 was a steel-jacketed 30-30; it won t bleed much, and 
 it s above my lung. I ll fool him yet." 
 
 The driver, wild of eye and much crumpled of hair, 
 scrambled into the room. "Who did it? My God! 
 who did it?" 
 
 "Never mind who did it. Plug this hole," com 
 manded Raymond. " Bring some cold water and pour 
 on it." 
 
 Ann saw that the driver s wits were too muddled to 
 permit of proper action, and while her tense nerves 
 quivered she bathed the wound, which was already 
 ceasing to bleed. 
 
 "Turn me over, Cap," called Raymond. "You ll 
 find another vent on the other side." 
 
 Louis and the driver turned him gently on his face, 
 and Ann was horrified to find an uglier wound than the 
 other. Sick with horror as she was, she contrived to 
 cut away the shirt, and stanched the blood as before. 
 
 Raymond was recovering from the first shock of the 
 wound, and, though his breathing was troubled, his 
 mind was clear. " Now, Watson," he said to the driver, 
 "spread some blankets under me and then you go 
 out to the corral and take my brown mare with the 
 saddle on and slide out for Wallace and bring a doc 
 tor. Don t urge the mare just let her take her gait; 
 and don t ride her back. Leave her there " 
 
 After the driver had helped him to a bed on a blanket, 
 
 66 
 
Life and Death 
 
 Raymond added, "Now I ve got to be quiet and wait, 
 that s all there is about it." He looked at Ann. " You 
 can go to bed and sleep. Youngster, you re in for sen 
 tinel duty to-night " 
 
 Ann interrupted him. "You must not talk, not an 
 other word! Lie perfectly still. We will keep cool 
 bandages on your wound till the doctor comes." 
 
 He submitted to her directions and lay quiet, moving 
 only to allow her to change the compress. Louis, when 
 he knew what was needed, became almost as deft as 
 Ann, and relieved her of the painful task of replacing 
 the bandages. But the powerful frame of the ranch 
 man grew each moment more inert, and at last they 
 could not dress the wound at his back. 
 
 Ann sat in a sort of stupor, oppressed with this 
 sudden contact with murder and sudden death. She 
 longed to escape, to recover the care-free, clean, and 
 peaceful life she had put aside. She resented it all. 
 "Why have I been brought to such a brutal and dis 
 gusting country?" she said to herself, and at the mo 
 ment this cowardly assault seemed typical of the West. 
 " I shall return to the East at once." 
 
 Louis, for his part, was exalted by the suddenness 
 with which he had been brought into contact with what 
 he considered real life, and into service to a man dying 
 of a gun-shot. These were the experiences he had 
 hoped to take part in, and in his mind this incident be 
 gan to take shape as a story of revenge. 
 
V 
 
 Ann s Vigil 
 
 FOR a long time the silence remained unbroken, 
 except now and then when the girl bent over the 
 silent figure to ask, " Can I do anything for you?" Each 
 time she listened with added fear, hoping eagerly for 
 his voice. To have him die there would be too horri 
 ble. Looking down on a wounded man she found to 
 be a deeply moving point of view. Merely to see the 
 closed eyes and the hollow, haggard face, was a trans 
 forming experience, but to feel that his life-blood was 
 ebbing away while she sat helplessly by was akin to 
 murder. 
 
 "Oh, I wish we could do something," she whispered 
 now and again to Louis. 
 
 The boy, worn out with his day s excitement, struggled 
 manfully to keep awake, but, as the night deepened, 
 slumber rose about him like a wreath of benumbing in 
 cense. His sense of what had taken place dulled, his 
 head nodded and drooped, and at last Ann lowered him 
 to the floor, where he slept, his cheek pillowed upon her 
 feet. 
 
 Again the singularity of the chance, the absurd un 
 reality of the situation, came upon the self-contained 
 girl, inciting her to a sort of hysterical laughter. Here 
 now she sat Ann Rupert most conventional of per- 
 
 68 
 
Ann s Vigil 
 
 sons, in a rude ranch - house, alone with a strange, 
 rough man sleeping in deathlike trance before her. 
 "I to whom nothing unexpected ever came," she 
 added. Truly this was a domineering land. Outside 
 a weird yapping and howling arose some spiteful dog. 
 Dog! No, it was a wolf; and a creeping movement of 
 her hair followed. 
 
 The wind in the big cottonwood advanced upon her 
 with hissing, stealthy motion. Voices sibilant and pro 
 phetic spoke to her out of the darkness, and invisible 
 arms seemed reaching through the open window. The 
 wounded man, with tightly clinched teeth, drew his 
 breath slowly, irregularly, stifling his pain for her sake, 
 but the boy s breathing was tranquil as that of a babe. 
 The minutes elongated like bands of rubber, attain 
 ing the length of quarter-hours, and the night stretched 
 away into horrifying distance as she sat tensely wait 
 ing, hoping each moment for deliverance, expecting 
 each instant to hear the swift beating of hoofs, the 
 hoarse laughter of the men ; but only the wind-serpents 
 hissed and the wolf howled. 
 
 At last immobility became intolerable, and, lowering 
 Louis head to the floor, she gently placed his doubled 
 coat beneath it, and with a mighty effort of the will 
 bent again above the pallid man, so tragic in his supine- 
 ness, and whispered: 
 
 Are you still suffering ? Can I do anything for you ? 
 
 He turned his head slowly, and with a glance which 
 made her shiver, answered: "No I have ceased to 
 bleed I am going to pull through if my pulse keeps 
 down. Won t you take it?" 
 
 Timidly taking his brown wrist in her soft finger 
 tips she tried to count the pulsing of his blood. 
 
 69 
 
Hesper 
 
 He waited a little time in silence, then said: "It s 
 there, but it s weak. Don t you feel it?" 
 
 "Yes, it is more regular now," she answered, though 
 her throat filled with the pity and the fear of his dying 
 there before her eyes. He was a splendid figure as he 
 lay motionless, straight as a carven figure on a tomb. 
 She had never in her life looked down upon a man lying 
 supine, disabled, and it added to her woman s in 
 stinctive fear a singular tenderness, an almost maternal 
 yearning to help, to minister to his needs. 
 
 He seemed to understand something of this feeling, 
 and, with a little touch of mocking humor, he slowly 
 said: "This is a new experience for you, isn t it? If 
 the boy were awake this would be a good subject for a 
 sketch the dying rancher and the lady." 
 
 "Don t please don t!" she pleaded. 
 
 "Oh, I m not going to die," he continued, in a hoarse, 
 flat tone. "I could get up and mount a horse right 
 now, only I d bleed if I did. It s hard to keep quiet, 
 but I m going to do it. I can t afford to die now. 
 You ve roused me. There s something in the world for 
 me to do." His breath came a little quicker. "The 
 Lord gave me a talent I haven t buried it. I ve only 
 hid it in a napkin if I ever get up again that talent 
 gets burnished." 
 
 "You must not talk," she whispered. "Please it 
 will do you harm." 
 
 She put her hand impulsively on his forehead as if 
 he were a child, and he closed his eyes and lay in silence 
 for several minutes. When she withdrew her palm 
 he muttered, "Leave it there, it is so cool and soft." 
 
 "Would you like a wet cloth on your head?" 
 
 "No only your hand if you don t mind " 
 
 70 
 
Ann s Vigil 
 
 Her feeling towards him at the moment was like 
 that she manifested towards her brother. "I don t 
 mind, if it helps you," she answered, but a flush rose 
 to her face. 
 
 He had a fine brow she could not help noticing 
 that full and white, and his neck was very fair below 
 the red-brown mask which the fierce sun and withering 
 wind had put upon him. It was not a gentle face, but 
 it was handsome and interesting. The lips were re 
 fined and the eyes sincere. Some one must have loved 
 htm deeply a sister, a mother. This gave her a new 
 thought. "Would you like us to send word to any 
 body in the East to your mother?" 
 
 He hesitated. "No; not unless the doctor advises 
 it." His thought turned towards her perplexities 
 again. "The boys will come in soon, and then you can 
 go to bed and rest. I m sorry to trouble you. You 
 can go now. I m all right." 
 
 "I shall not leave you," she firmly replied. 
 
 "You re mighty good," he said, simply. 
 
 The night wore on interminably. Once a fierce 
 yapping and howling broke forth close to the corral, 
 and the girl started visibly, but the wounded man 
 Whispered, " Don t be scared coyotes perfectly harm 
 less," and she was instantly relieved. He knew the 
 wild and its danger. 
 
 Strange to say, she no longer bemoaned her folly in 
 having been dragged into this world. She no longer 
 thought of herself as an alien. Something of the 
 exaltation which irradiates the faces of the devoted 
 Sisters of Charity came to her. She glowed with a 
 species of pleasure born of the conviction that she 
 Was doing a little of Christ s work in the world. She 
 
Hesper 
 
 had never been a visitor of slums, had never enacted 
 the role of Lady Bountiful, and yet her life had not 
 been sensual. She had simply avoided responsibility. 
 Suffering, guilt, death had not come near her. Aside 
 from her sense of duty towards her brother she had 
 never acknowledged obligation, and this sudden reach 
 ing call of a stricken human soul filled her with new 
 conceptions of human need. Suppose this man were 
 about to die? What comfort could she give? 
 
 She had never been a devout Christian, though she 
 formally attended church and tepidly read her prayers 
 with the congregation; but now she wished for some 
 power to solace to prepare a soul for death. This 
 splendid youth, lying along the brink of the grave, 
 caused her to grasp at the known and to question the 
 unseen. She was amazed to find herself nearing him, 
 desiring to help him, and her anxiety became a be 
 numbing pain. 
 
 After some hours of troubled dozing, the wounded 
 man opened his eyes and said, thickly, in a tone he had 
 not used before, "Nell, I thought you were in Europe?" 
 
 Ann s blood froze with a new terror. She read in 
 these words the delirium which precedes death. The 
 fevers of the man s breast had reached his brain! His 
 breathing indicated growing pain. 
 
 His voice was reproachful. "Won t you speak to 
 me, Nellie. I don t blame you. I disgraced you all, 
 but I didn t mean to do so." 
 
 She laid her hand gently on his forehead. "Hash! 
 You must not talk. Be very quiet." 
 
 He raised his big, brown right hand, and brought her 
 palm to his lips and kissed it. 
 
 M No, no!" she cried, putting his hand down by his 
 
 72 
 
Ann s Vigil 
 
 side again. "You must not move. You are hurt. 
 Don t you remember? You must not stir till the doc 
 tor comes." 
 
 His eyes became troubled and wondering. "I I 
 thought you were Nellie." He raised his head and 
 cleared his eyes. "What s the matter with me?" 
 
 In terror she fell upon her knees at his side. "Please 
 don t !" She put both her hands to his face and pressed 
 his head back upon his pillow. "You must not move. 
 You will open your wounds again." 
 
 He smiled curiously. "All right; I feel as if I d 
 been punishin wet boodle. My head is hot. Noth 
 ing so good as a wet towel pounded ice " 
 
 "If you ll be very still I ll go get some water. Do 
 you promise?" 
 
 "Oh yes, I ll promise." 
 
 Hastily sopping her handkerchief in water, she laid 
 it on his brow, which was burning with heat. His face 
 and neck were now flushed and swollen, and his eyes 
 very bright. Putting her hand over them, she said, 
 firmly, "Now shut your eyes and go to sleep." 
 
 He grew still deathly still once more. Only the 
 throbbing of the fevered veins of his temples told of his 
 laboring heart s continued action. For a long time 
 Ann sat thus, her outstretched arms aching with the 
 constraint, but at last he seemed to sleep, and she 
 was free. Rising, she took from her hand-bag a little 
 medicine-case, and from one of the phials marked "Fe 
 vers she poured a few pellets. These she dropped into 
 a glass with a little water, and returned to her seat be 
 side the sleeping man with a feeling of power, a sense of 
 being prepared to deal with his rising pulse ; his wound 
 was beyond her skill. 
 
 73 
 
Hesper 
 
 At a little past three, faint and far, arose the cheerful 
 crowing of a cock. Her heart burned with joy the 
 morning was near ! Hastening to the window, she was 
 able to detect a faint golden refulgence overspreading 
 the eastern sky. As she exulted, the cock s call was re 
 peated, and then a long, sharp, wailing howl answered 
 it. It was the morning song of the wolf. 
 
 As she waited the light came, and voices faint and far 
 away touched her ear, and then slowly, moving in a 
 disorderly squad, the weary fighters of flames came 
 riding down the slope and across the meadow. Their 
 words, even as sounds, seemed weary and spiritless. 
 So impatient of their slow approach was she, the girl 
 leaned far out of the window, eager to scream ; but her 
 better judgment deterred her, and with both hands 
 clinched on the window-sill, her white face ghastly pale 
 in the growing light of the morning, she awaited their 
 approach. "Why do they not hurry?" 
 
 The herders did not ride up to the house as she ex 
 pected them to do, but turned aside towards the stables, 
 and she could hear them as they dropped their saddles 
 and turned their tired ponies loose. " Surely they will 
 come now." Then all was still save the crowing of 
 the cocks and that sad howling of the wolf on the 
 hill. 
 
 Unable to endure the suspense, she tiptoed across 
 the floor and hurried out towards the corrals, her heart 
 in her throat with fear of the body on the floor. She 
 ran as silently as possible, as if to avoid rousing some 
 fierce animal, and was close upon the men before they 
 saw her. 
 
 "What s that!" she heard one quick, keen voice cry 
 out. 
 
 74 
 
Ann s Vigil 
 
 Then each man rose from the heap of blankets where 
 in he lay curled like an Arctic dog. 
 
 Ann answered them breathlessly. "Come to the 
 house, quick. Mr. Raymond is shot!" 
 
 Their responses were like bullets: "Shot! Who shot 
 him?" 
 
 Some one fired out of the darkness he was stand 
 ing in the doorway. He is delirious. I m all alone. 
 He must have help!" 
 
 "Where s Watson?" 
 
 "Gone for the doctor." 
 
 Shaking loose from his bed, Baker started on the run 
 for the house, but Ann cried out, sharply: "Wait! Go 
 quietly. You must not excite him;" and, walking be 
 side him, she returned to the house, and in a sort of 
 daze the other herders silently followed. The jangle 
 of Baker s big spurs, familiar and penetrating, called 
 Raymond to a knowledge of his surroundings. 
 
 He turned his head and looked at the men in a way 
 that made them shrink, and asked: "How s the fire? 
 Did you stop it?" 
 
 Baker replied, "Yes, we got her under." 
 
 Raymond half closed his eyes. "I m glad you re 
 here. This lady needs a rest. Somebody did for me." 
 
 Perry, the Mexican boy, with a face white with pas 
 sion, uttered a sobbing moan, and, rushing across the 
 room, fell on his knees beside his boss. 
 
 "Who did it? Tell me! I will hunt him! I will 
 kill him!" 
 
 His voice, tense, muffled with passion, thrust Ann to 
 the heart; but Raymond, putting his hand on the boy s 
 head, said, gently: "Keep cool, boy. Baker, you and 
 Jones and Skuttle stay here. Perry, you saddle a 
 
 75 
 
Hesper 
 
 horse and get Abe and his wife. Miss Rupert, you go 
 to bed; the boys will look after me now. I can t let 
 you wear yourself out for me." 
 
 But Ann could not so easily be put aside from her 
 plain duty. "No, I will stay till the doctor comes. 
 Men " she turned to the cow-boys " he ought to have 
 an easier bed. Can t you lift him 
 
 Raymond spoke again: "No, don t bother. I m 
 used to hard beds." 
 
 The herders recovered from their awe as they listened 
 to the sound of their foreman s voice. Though weak 
 and broken, it was, after all, that of the master, and 
 familiar. 
 
 Baker, hardly able to speak, hoarsely murmured, 
 "What can we do, miss?" 
 
 "I don t know nothing except to put something 
 soft beneath him." 
 
 And so, to her own wonderment, Ann found herself 
 in direct and full control of a gang of clumsy, rough, but 
 resolute men men who could break a savage horse or 
 fight flame all night long, but who knew not how to lay 
 hands upon a wounded comrade. And, stranger yet, 
 she found herself warming under their naive admiration 
 of her skill and judgment. 
 
 At last, when the wounded man was lying comfort 
 ably on a thick pile of blankets, and the white light of 
 the morning filled the cabin, Ann yielded to his entrea 
 ties, went to her room, and threw herself down upon her 
 bed with a sense of having put all her easeful, careless 
 girlhood behind her. It was as if she had suddenly 
 been flung into a gray and bitter sea far from shore. 
 
 Louis, who had been roused by the return of the 
 herders, and who sat watching their slow and painfully 
 
 76 
 
Ann s Vigil 
 
 cautious handling of the sufferer with the mute, un 
 emotional gaze of a sleepy kitten, followed his sister 
 into the inner room and stood in silence till his bewil 
 derment left him and his perplexity crystallized into 
 words. Then he said: 
 
 "Jupiter! I didn t know you could do such things. 
 What do you think? Is he going to die?" 
 
 " I don t know, laddie. I hope not. I ve done all I 
 can." 
 
 Ann must have dropped asleep thereafter, for when 
 she woke the horizontal rays of the flaming sun filled 
 the room, and the loud and hearty voice of a woman 
 could be heard out in the kitchen. Her words came 
 distinctly to Ann s ears. " Now, Rob, you ve got 
 me to deal with. I ll cuff your ears if you don t 
 do as I say. You ve got to eat to keep your strength 
 up." 
 
 Ann rose hastily, but paused before the closed door 
 with a new and singular timidity. The coming of an 
 other woman made her own position embarrassing. 
 With a return of resolution she opened the door and met 
 the big, gray eyes of a tall, broad-shouldered, slatternly 
 woman, who stood over Raymond with a bowl of steam 
 ing broth in her hand. She was neither deft nor dainty, 
 but Ann perceived that she was capable and good- 
 tempered, a natural nurse, experienced in the ways of 
 the border. 
 
 "Good-morning," she called, and her inflections and 
 many of her phrases were masculine. "You must a 
 had a right hard night of it. Friend of the Barnetts, 
 Rob tells me." 
 
 Her familiarity and the essential commonness of her 
 77 
 
Hesper 
 
 tone repelled Ann, who asked, with cool dignity, " Can 
 I do anything?" 
 
 "Not a thing. I m Mrs. Scribbins, Rob s nighest 
 neighbor. We come a-runnin the moment we heerd 
 of this thing, for Rob s a mighty good man and neigh 
 bor." 
 
 Ann repented and held out her hand. " I m glad to 
 see you, Mrs. Scribbins. I m Miss Rupert, and this is 
 my brother." She turned to Louis, who had crept to 
 her side, pale and silent. 
 
 Mrs. Scribbins shook hands carefully, guarding hep 
 broth. "I don t see how in hell you kept Rob down. 
 I ve had to just about throttle him once or twice since 
 I came. He s a headstrong cuss, and hates being 
 bossed or nussed." 
 
 "Has the doctor come?" 
 
 "Good Lord! no; but I ve sent Abe up the road. 
 That fool Watson is more n likely to get lost and never 
 get in ; even if he did he couldn t get a doctor here before 
 noon, and that Wallace doctor ain t worth the powder 
 to blow him to hell, anyway. We need a bone-doctor 
 from Valley Springs. As soon as Don Barnett hears 
 of this he ll come a-runnin with the best there is in 
 the Springs " She broke off suddenly to say: " Boys, 
 you ll have to kill a critter. I can t feed the people 
 that 11 come a-rackin in here, if you don t. Seems 
 like you ve lost all the sense you ever did have. Hustle 
 out o here, you re in the way." 
 
 Raymond lay on his pile of blankets, his face expres 
 sionless as that of a dead man, but his eyes called to the 
 girl, and she bent to ask, "Are you better?" 
 
 His lips moved a little. She bowed lower, and he 
 whispered, "Yes bring Don " 
 
 78 
 
Ann s Vigil 
 
 "They have gone for him." 
 
 "They must hurry." Then he added, "Don t leave 
 me." 
 
 With a conviction that he knew he was about to die, 
 she spoke, and her tone was tense with a desire to help 
 him, "I will not leave you do not worry." 
 
 He closed his eyes again, and lay so still, so breath 
 less, it seemed that he had entered upon the last coma, 
 beyond the reach of any medicine. 
 
 Louis, awed quite out of his sprightly self, drew Ann 
 aside and whispered, "How is he?" 
 
 "He is worse. Oh, I wish the doctor would come!" 
 
 "The boys say that big, speckled-faced fellow did it. 
 He had it in for Mr. Raymond. Do you know, Perry, 
 the Mexican boy, took a horse and was going to chase 
 them up, but the boys wouldn t let him. They ve sent 
 word to the railway, and they ll have Speckle before 
 night. Uncle Don said that these fellows were only 
 hired men, but seems to me they re a good deal like the 
 old-time cow-boys. I consider I m in great luck." 
 
 Ann looked at him in astonishment. "What do you 
 mean?" 
 
 " Why, it isn t often you can see a man shot, even out 
 here." 
 
 " Louis, I don t believe you realize how heartless that 
 sounds." 
 
 "I m seeing life," he said, triumphantly. 
 
 Ann did not say what she thought, but in her heart 
 she replied, "You are seeing death." 
 
VI 
 
 Barnett to the Rescue 
 
 BARNETT was at breakfast when a telegram was 
 laid at his elbow by the maid. He opened it 
 leisurely, thinking it some matter of business, but his 
 hands stiffened as he read: 
 
 " Bob Raymond is shot. Send best doctor in town, 
 quick. WATSON." 
 
 For just a moment he sat in silence, then rose and 
 walked slowly to his library. Seating himself before 
 the little desk on which stood a movable telephone- 
 receiver, he began to "make things hum." He reached 
 his friend, Dr. Braide, and set him in motion. He or 
 dered out his racing automobile. He telegraphed 
 Watson to take fresh horses and return by way of 
 Junction and get best doctor there. "Burn the air as 
 you go," he added. 
 
 After giving orders for his valise to be packed, he 
 walked up to Mrs. Barnett s room and kissed her good- 
 morning without betraying his excitement. 
 
 "I m going out to the ranch," he said. "The boys 
 are having trouble with the hay, and I want to see how 
 they re coming on. You won t mind, will you?" 
 
 " Of course not, Don. I m going to be all right in a 
 few hours. I m glad you re going. You can bring 
 
 80 
 
Barnett to the Rescue 
 
 Ann home. You should have gone with her yester 
 day." 
 
 " I see that now," he answered, dryly. " It will be a 
 startling world for her. Well, I m off. Better stay in 
 bed to-day. I ll be back by to-morrow night, I think." 
 
 When he took his seat in his big, flat, powerful auto 
 car, his face was set in grim lines. "Is she all right, 
 Henry?" he asked of his engineer. 
 
 1 In perfect order, sir." 
 
 "She needs to be. This is to be a record-breaker." 
 
 With his big goggles over his eyes and his cap drawn 
 low down on his forehead, Barnett seized the wheel, 
 and the ponderous, panting organism began to move. 
 Wheeling into the street, he let on the full power of 
 the engine, and when he drew up at Braide s gate the 
 mechanism was hot with speed, its joints oiled and 
 frictionless in racing trim. 
 
 Braide, a small, smiling, trig young fellow, came out. 
 "What is it all about, Don?" 
 
 "Got your tools?" 
 
 He pointed at his bag, "Emergency kit." 
 
 "Then all aboard!" 
 
 Henry leaped out and caught up the bag, while the 
 doctor climbed in beside Barnett on the front seat. 
 
 " This looks ominous. How much of a trip is it going 
 to be?" 
 
 "Just a short run," answered Barnett, as he swung 
 the shining red bulk of the car into Mogalyon Avenue, 
 which led directly east over the plain. 
 
 Beneath their feet the puff and click of the piston 
 
 and the purr of cogs grew each moment more furious, 
 
 until all sounds fused into a humming roar. The keen 
 
 .air of the morning smote the riders jovially. The 
 
 6 81 
 
Hesper 
 
 flaming sunlight slanted upon them with growing heat, 
 and backward, beneath them, the sod swept like a 
 tawny carpet, while Barnett, watchful, intent, com 
 posed, worked the levers and valves with the skill of a 
 practical engineer. When they had crossed the two 
 railroads, and were climbing the long, low ridge, he 
 casually remarked, 
 
 "My foreman, Raymond, is shot, and you ve got to 
 pull him through." 
 
 "Great Scot, Don, I can t afford the time! It 11 
 take all day. If I d known 
 
 "You d have gone just the same," asserted Barnett, 
 calmly. The machine was again running very swiftly. 
 " You re here, and you daren t jump out, and you 
 might as well enjoy yourself. This is to be a record 
 run. I m going to pull in by noon." 
 
 Braide was young and a man of red blood and shin 
 ing eyes. "Very well; go it, old sport! I can stand it 
 if you can. I ll make it a holiday, and charge you 
 double for every hour." 
 
 "That s like you doctors ; your meat is another man s 
 poison." 
 
 When they had reached the top of the pass between 
 two pinon-spotted hills, the road could be seen for 
 miles, driving straight into the mist of the mighty 
 Missouri Valley. 
 
 "It s all the way down-grade from here to Omaha," 
 remarked Barnett. "I could make the run in two 
 hours only, I mustn t invite a break-down." 
 
 "You seem to value your foreman." 
 
 "He s something more than my foreman. He s a 
 splendid chap. You ve met him the fellow who went 
 on the coyote drive with us." 
 
 82 
 
Barnett to the Rescue 
 
 " Why, certainly I remember him. I ve met him at 
 the club. But he was very reticent. I didn t get at him. 
 Who is he? How does he come to be your foreman?" 
 
 "He s a little slow about telling his own life story, 
 but he s all right. I think I know the cause of this 
 shooting. He got into trouble with a couple of fellows 
 out there, and one of them has done him. It was this 
 way: I am postmaster at my ranch, and Raymond is 
 deputy. One day when he was about to send out the 
 mail a fellow called Speckle rode up with three letters 
 to register. Rob laid the letters down on the table in 
 the room the post-office is in one corner of the dining- 
 room and slipped out to speak to one of the boys. 
 When he came back, Speck was gone. Rob caught 
 up the letters hurriedly, for the carrier was waiting, 
 and thrust them into the bag. Some days later he re 
 ceived notice that the letters arrived at the post-office 
 in Denver without enclosure. Each envelope had been 
 neatly slit with a knife and the money taken." 
 
 "Well," said Braide "Speckle did it, of course?" 
 
 " That s what Raymond thought. But Speckle made 
 counter - accusation : Would I rob myself? One of 
 them letters contained money I was sending home. 
 Moreover, his friends go on to say, One of those letters 
 contained silver, and it is nonsense to say that Ray 
 mond didn t feel the difference in weight." 1 
 
 "They might have been opened on the route." 
 
 " No, the bag went through to Denver without being 
 opened. The authorities came down and investigated, 
 but haven t come to any conclusion. This shooting is 
 likely to be an outcome of the dispute." 
 
 The road was now merely a trail across the prairie. 
 The farm-houses were left behind ; only the long reaches 
 
 83 
 
Hesper 
 
 of wire fence denoted the presence of ranchers. It was 
 a big, bare land, covered with a short, dry grass, with 
 occasional shallow ravines in which minute streams of 
 water percolated. Cattle were scattered over the range, 
 but sparsely. Occasionally they passed a prairie-dog 
 town, and Don laughed to see them disappear at sight 
 of the big, red monster. Once in ten or fifteen minutes 
 Henry was forced to leap down and open a wire gate, 
 and these delays brought a deeper frown to Barnett s 
 face. At last they swept out upon the open range, with 
 only the dry and russet sod basing the hemisphere of 
 flaming sky. 
 
 As they came sweeping down on the " Bar O " ranch- 
 house, half hidden in a narrow valley, all the hands and 
 every child of the family, including the dogs, rushed out, 
 eager to see the new machine, shouting for Barnett to 
 stop ; but he only shook his head and bent resolutely to 
 his levers, leaving them all behind in a whir of dust. 
 
 Twice he met a little squad of whooping cow-boys, 
 and the bucking and the plunging of their terrified 
 ponies gave rise to splendid feats of horsemanship ; but 
 Barnett, busy bringing out of the great red beast every 
 ounce of power that was in her, did not even glance 
 their way. 
 
 The doctor, looking often at his watch, shouted, 
 "We are running more than thirty miles an hour!" 
 
 "We have a sand-flat to cross," replied Barnett. 
 
 As they entered upon a particularly smooth stretch 
 of road, the man at the wheel relaxed his hold and said, 
 with deep feeling: "I don t mind saying that I m anx 
 ious about Rob. I ve grown mighty fond of him. He s 
 not one given to confidences, and I ve respected his 
 reticence. I don t know quite why he is here, but I 
 
Barnett to the Rescue 
 
 trust him and count myself fortunate to have him on 
 the place. He made forty thousand dollars for me 
 last year on hay and cattle, and must have a little 
 bunch laid up for himself. It would be devilish to 
 have him snuffed out by that wide-mouthed black 
 guard." 
 
 "I thought him a little different from the ordinary 
 cow-boy." 
 
 "Cow-boy! Good Heavens, the man is a gentle 
 man." 
 
 "Couldn t he be both?" 
 
 "This cow-boy nonsense is no longer humorous to 
 me. The cattle business is on a new basis now, and 
 what I want is not a woolly jack who shoots off his 
 mouth and his pistol on the slightest provocation. I 
 want steady, decent workmen. Rob is invaluable to 
 me for the reason that he controls these trifling bad 
 boys of Missouri and Kansas. It s a cursed shame to 
 have such a man disabled by a hobo like Speck Han 
 son. It s murder, pure murder, for he must have shot 
 him from ambush. He wouldn t face him." 
 
 Braide was vastly astonished to observe the self- 
 contained Don Barnett growing red with wrath. " May 
 be it was an accident." 
 
 " Oh no, it was one of that Hanson gang. They ter 
 rorize Williams. Saturday night he hides out and they 
 run riot." After a silence he said, slowly : " I ve felt for 
 a year that I ought to put Rob into something bet 
 ter; I owed it to him. Now if he dies He broke 
 off and bent to his wheel to hide the emotion that made 
 his lips quiver. 
 
 "It may be only a flesh wound. Anyhow, we ll do 
 our best for him," replied the doctor. 
 
 85 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Here s our sand -flat," called Barnett. "Henry, 
 we re in for it." 
 
 The machine, hitherto joyous, began to labor and 
 lag. Her master turned a cock here, opened a valve 
 there, threw on the hill - climbing device, and under 
 these stimulants she crawled slowly through. The 
 men bent forward involuntarily, as if trying to push, 
 and the helmsman took advantage of every streak of 
 sod, every patch of gumbo, and at last, with a whoop 
 of joy, struck the hard soil of the opposite hill, and up 
 the slope they went with a sense of victory. 
 
 "We re all right now, except for the bridge at the 
 Goldfish Ranch," said Barnett, with a sigh of deep 
 relief. 
 
 The speed of the splendid chariot now rose to nearly 
 twenty -five miles an hour, and on the down-grade 
 touched railroad speed and the young surgeon took 
 off his hat and yelled with delight. 
 
 "Whirroo! turn on the juice!" Then he shouted: 
 "There go some antelope! Oh, for a chance to race 
 with them!" 
 
 For an interval of several minutes the antelope 
 three does and two fawns ran parallel to the auto s 
 course, as if curious to test its speed and understand 
 its motives; then veered off and drifted, light as cot 
 ton wood down, across a swell and out of sight. 
 
 It lacked ten minutes of noon as Barnett rose above 
 the last great wave of the tawny sea and sighted the 
 clump of cottonwoods in which his ranch buildings sat, 
 and two minutes later he swept into the yard and up to 
 the door, amid a throng of singularly silent cow-boys 
 and ranchers. The first one to speak was Mrs. Scrib- 
 bins, who exclaimed: 
 
 86 
 
Barnett to the Rescue 
 
 Jerusalem the golden ! You hain t come from home 
 this mornin in that doggone thunder-cart, have ye?" 
 
 " That s what. How s Rob?" 
 
 "Quiet as mice; but I hope ye brought help." 
 
 Barnett rose from his seat stiffly and climbed pain 
 fully down, while Braide seized his case of tools and 
 hurried into the cabin. 
 
 Barnett, feeling a small hand gripping his arm, 
 turned to meet Louis. "Hello," said he. "How is 
 Ann?" 
 
 "She s all right. She saved Rob s life," answered 
 the boy. 
 
 Ann, who stood just outside the door, answered, 
 very quietly: "I am quite well. How is Jeannette?" 
 
 "I left her feeling very well But tell me the 
 truth, is Rob dying?" 
 
 "No," said Ann. "But he needs help. He was 
 shot last evening and has lain all night in pain he 
 is very weak now." 
 
 Barnett hurried into the hot dusk of the ranch-house, 
 smelling of the dinner which was cooking, and bent 
 above his foreman. 
 
 " Hello, Rob. How do you feel?" 
 
 Raymond whispered, "Oh, I m all right a little 
 weak " 
 
 The doctor interposed. "Clear the room of every 
 body but the woman." He indicated Mrs. Scribbins. 
 " We must find this bullet!" 
 
 Barnett turned to the men who filled the door 
 way. "Clear out, boys; the doctor wants to be alone 
 now." 
 
 Raymond smiled a little. The bullet went on. 
 It s in the wall somewhere!" 
 
 87 
 
Hesper 
 
 Barnett came to the door and said to Ann, "You 
 better go out under the trees and rest; you look 
 tired." 
 
 " I will stay if I can be of any use." 
 
 "We don t need you Mrs. Scribbins will help us. 
 Please go. Louis t take her away till this is over." 
 
 Released from her benumbing load of responsibility, 
 Ann laid her hand on her brother s arm. "Come, 
 Louis," and together they went out along the little 
 winding path which led to the spring. 
 
 "What do you suppose they will do to him?" asked 
 Louis. 
 
 Ann turned sick. "Oh, I don t know. Don t speak 
 of it it s too horrible!" 
 
 They took seats in the long, matted grass under the 
 willows which rose out of the moist earth beside the 
 spring, and looked away at the pink-brown domes of 
 the range warmed by the morning sun and diminished 
 by the absence of clouds. There was balm and healing 
 in the sight of them, and, with passionate voice, Aan 
 cried out: 
 
 "Oh, to get back to the Springs to be rid of these 
 horrible, prying people! It s like a nightmare! I hate 
 them all!" 
 
 Louis sensitive soul quivered with sympathetic pain 
 at sight of her tears. "I m awfully sorry, sis. I 
 didn t intend to get you into this scrape." 
 
 " I know you didn t, but I feel as if my soul had been 
 scourged. I m not fitted for such life such work. 
 I can t let you stay here, laddie. These men are too 
 savage; they are not suitable companions for a boy 
 like you." 
 
 "I don t want to stay if Rob dies," he said. 
 88 
 
Barnett to the Rescue 
 
 "He won t die," she said, with conviction. "His 
 frame is accustomed to hardship it will throw this 
 off. But you are too young to be mixed up in these 
 wild scenes." 
 
 He was silent for a moment, peering away across the 
 meadow, where a crawling object appeared, curving 
 down like a dark -brown serpent. "There come some 
 cattle. The cow-boys are riding ahead. See! They re 
 coming down to the pond. Let s go up there and meet 
 them." 
 
 Ann followed him down along the wire fence to a 
 mound which overlooked the marshy pool just above 
 the stables, and there stood watching the cattle as 
 they descended in an endless, thin file, from where 
 the crest of the ridge cut into the burning sky, to the 
 green valley. They approached in single file, their 
 heads held high, their nostrils wide-spread. Even the 
 leaders were gaunt and poor, and all trotted with long, 
 eager, jolting steps, and as they came they cried out 
 with voices hoarse and weak and high-keyed, like those 
 of women worn with pleading. A dust arose from their 
 feet a dust that drifted like smoke. 
 
 "They are starving for water," cried Ann, with sud 
 den realization of the meaning of their moaning. 
 
 Louis stood like one smitten dumb, his big eyes fixed 
 like the lenses of a camera eager to absorb every 
 detail of the strange scene. 
 
 As the big, bony leaders neared the pool, they plunged 
 in, catching at the water as wolves snap at meat. Those 
 behind forced those in front ever deeper into the cool 
 liquid, while later -comers encircled the little pool, 
 crushing and crowding one another till those in the 
 centre swam, and those behind, unable to find place, 
 
 89 
 
Hesper 
 
 swirled madly on the outer edge, moaning most pite- 
 ously. All were lamentably gaunt and wild-eyed. 
 
 They soon formed a huge bowl or pit wherein they 
 moved a crater paved with clashing horns and muddy, 
 up-raised nostrils. The water beneath them became 
 inky black with churned slime, and yet they drank, 
 gulping this liquid mud. And still they came. The 
 air was filled with the sound of their hoarse breathing, 
 their whining and muttering. Those in the rear 
 seemed to stagger as they ran down the hill. Turn 
 ing to one of the cow-boys, who sat composedly on 
 his horse, Ann asked, "Why are they so thirsty?" 
 
 "We re moving em across country, miss, and the 
 water is mighty scarce on the divide between Wild Cat 
 and the North Fork." 
 
 His calm unconcern dismayed and angered the girl. 
 "Come away, Louis. I hate this cruel land and all 
 its people." 
 
 Louis followed her reluctantly. To him it was all 
 drama a splendid, robust play. He admired the cow 
 boy who sat so calmly watching his thirsty cattle bat 
 tle for a mouthful of wet slime. To Ann it was bar 
 barism unhallowed and unnecessary. "Oh, what a 
 terrible country!" she repeated, as the horror grew. 
 " No wonder its women swear and its men kill one an 
 other." 
 
 When she re-entered the cabin, Barnett met her with 
 a smile. "The doctor says Rob s all right. He in 
 sists that you saved his life. You poor girl! What 
 a night that boy let you in for! I didn t know till 
 ten minutes ago that you were here all alone, and that 
 Jones and his wife had vamoosed. I hope you ll for 
 give me, Ann?" 
 
 90 
 
Barnett to the Rescue 
 
 " Oh, I blame no one but myself," she wearily replied. 
 "I shouldn t have come to this miserable, ghastly re 
 gion." 
 
 " Rob wants to see you. Will you come in and speak 
 to him?" 
 
 Ann reluctantly followed Barnett into the inner 
 room where Raymond, with his wounds dressed and 
 limbs properly clothed, lay stretched on the bed. He 
 was very pale, but his eyes were calm and quiet. He 
 reached a feeble right hand towards her, saying, pain 
 fully: "You ve been mighty good to me. By-and-by 
 I will try to thank you. Without you I would have 
 bled to death." 
 
 " I beg you not to give it a moment s thought. I did 
 very little," Ann coldly replied. 
 
 His eyes were round and soft and appealing, like 
 those of a big, wounded dog. "Don t leave me now. 
 I want you " 
 
 She glanced at the young doctor, who stood listen 
 ing. He nodded, as if to say, "Grant his request." 
 And so she put his hand away gently, as if the cling 
 ing fingers were those of a sleeping babe, and said, with 
 a return of pity: "I will stay till to-morrow. Now 
 please go to sleep." 
 
 He closed his eyes under her palm, and tears of grati 
 tude came stealing down from his brown lashes. For 
 the moment she forgot that she had known him but a 
 day, that she, too, was a stranger far removed from 
 him in every thought and purpose and consented to 
 stay because he clung to her and needed her. A hand 
 seized her throat, and an emotion which alienated her 
 from her old self rose within her bosom and for a 
 moment frightened her. In the end it irritated her, 
 
 9 1 
 
Hesper 
 
 this pity, and yet it could not be shaken off. A deeper 
 self, which she had not known, insisted that she keep 
 her word to the wounded man; and so for two days she 
 oscillated between a pitying tenderness for him and a 
 disgust and bitterness with herself and her weakness. 
 
 On the third day Braide pronounced his patient out 
 of danger, and then Ann s pity died. 
 
 " I am going home," she said to Louis, " and you must 
 go with me. They are going to take the foreman to 
 the Springs, and I cannot leave you here." 
 
 Ann said good-bye to the wounded man in Bar- 
 nett s presence, and a sense of irritation caused her to 
 be very distant with him. 
 
 "I hope you will soon be able to be removed," she 
 said, evading his glance. "This is a distressing place 
 in which to be sick, and now I must say good 
 bye." 
 
 He took her hand in both of his. " I shall miss you, 
 but I won t ask you to stay any longer. You ve been 
 very sweet and helpful to me, and I hate to have you 
 go. You will let me see you again won t you?" 
 
 " My cousin intends to take you to his house as 
 soon as you can be moved," she answered, formally. 
 * No doubt we shall meet again there." 
 
 I will live in hope of that," he answered, gallantly. 
 
VII 
 The New Life 
 
 ONCE more in Valley Springs, Ann s old self re 
 turned, and the scenes through which she had 
 passed became as unreal as the happenings of a dream ; 
 but her sense of injury deepened into dislike of Ray 
 mond and the life he represented. Therefore she took 
 care not to see him as he was borne into Barnett s 
 house. "He is nothing to me, and I must decline to 
 be troubled by him further," she said, as she was 
 dressing to go out. 
 
 Mrs. Barnett, however, was waiting, and when the 
 carriage in which he lay came to the door, hastened 
 to take his hand in both of hers and make him 
 welcome. "I m glad you came, Rob. We are go 
 ing to have you out in a few days. How do you 
 feel?" 
 
 In his weak state he could only boyishly say: "Oh, 
 I m on the up-grade. You and Don are mighty good 
 to me." 
 
 "Not a word about that," she cheerily cried. 
 
 As the men bore him through the doorway, he said, 
 with a faint smile, "I cut as wide a swath as a piano, 
 don t I?" 
 
 Barnett, piloting the way, called out, "No more 
 heavy jokes; it s all the pall-bearers can stagger under 
 
 93 
 
Hesper 
 
 now"; and in such fashion they rumbled up the stairs r 
 the helpers on the broad grin. 
 
 As he sank into the cool, delicious bed, soft and fra 
 grant, tears of gratitude filled the strong young man s 
 eyes. 
 
 "I don t deserve such treatment, old man a tramp 
 like me " 
 
 " Rats!" roared Barnett, to conceal his own emotion. 
 " In the phrase of the great statesman from Wisconsin, 
 I seen my duty, and I done it. I ve got you now 
 right where I want you. You do just as we tell you." 
 
 "I submit," he answered, and thereafter abandoned 
 himself to the joy of travelling back to life along such 
 ways of wanton luxury as he had never known. He 
 permitted himself to be waited upon, even by Mrs. Bar 
 nett, without protest, and when Louis came stealing 
 into the room in awe and love his heart went out to 
 the boy as to a brother. 
 
 " Hello, younker !" he called. " You needn t walk so 
 soft -voiced; I m worth a dozen dead men yet." 
 
 The boy s face shone. "I thought you were asleep. 
 Can I do anything for you?" 
 
 " No, only come and sit down and talk to me. What 
 have you been doing since you came back to the 
 Springs?" 
 
 Louis took a seat. "Nothing of any consequence, 
 except to make some drawings of the ranch. It s dull 
 here. I want to go into the mountains." 
 
 "You re a wonderful youngster. Wait till I m able 
 to travel, and we ll go up into the high country to 
 gether." 
 
 Louis clapped his hands. "Won t that be glorious! 
 I d rather do that than anything else in the world." 
 
 94 
 
The New Life 
 
 "How is your sister?" asked Raymond, with abrupt 
 change of tone. 
 
 "She is well she s always well. We just came in 
 from a drive; that s the reason I wasn t here to help 
 you. Did it hurt you going up-stairs?" 
 
 "Not a bit. The boys handled me as tenderly as a 
 side o pork. Let me see your drawings, will you?" 
 
 The boy s face glowed. "Well, you just wait," and 
 he rushed away to get them. 
 
 Mrs. Barnett, upon meeting Ann, said, with deep feel 
 ing: "Rob s illness has transformed him. He said to 
 me a few moments ago, If you can find the man who 
 shot me, reward him. He has done me a great service. 
 I am lost in a dream of luxury. There was a beauti 
 ful light in his face. I wish you could have seen it. I 
 have known there was a great deal more to him than 
 he was willing to give out, but I didn t know he had 
 such delicacy of sentiment. He asked after you with 
 emotion, and said he would like to thank you for your 
 service to him." 
 
 Ann, listening intently, remained coldly impassive of 
 face. "Mrs. Scribbins was the really efficient person. 
 I have a horror of sick people, and as for wounds " 
 She shuddered for lack of words. 
 
 Mrs. Barnett went on: "I like to do for him, he s so 
 grateful and so obedient. He says just the right thing 
 always. There must be good breeding back of the man, 
 although he never mentions his family. There s some 
 love affair to account for his being here. He s too 
 handsome not to have had entanglements. Don t you 
 think so?" 
 
 " He insisted not," replied Ann. " He begged me to 
 consider that his life had been quite commonplace." 
 
 95 
 
Hesper 
 
 "I don t believe it. He couldn t be commonplace. 
 He said to me just now, Sometimes a man must hear 
 the wash of the river of death to realize how futile he 
 has allowed his life to become. His gratitude tow 
 ards you is pathetic." 
 
 Ann frowned. " It s worse it s oppressive. I did so 
 little, and that little was not done with a gracious 
 spirit. I didn t enjoy it then nor in retrospect." 
 
 "You mustn t let him know that. His worship of 
 you positively irradiates his face, and he s very hand 
 some." 
 
 "Yes, he is handsome," said Ann, slowly. "I 
 thought him the most superb animal I had ever seen as 
 he went about sullenly cooking our suppper that night. 
 He resented our coming, and I couldn t blame him for 
 that. I assure you he glowered at us." 
 
 " His point of view is quite different now. You may 
 make light of that night s experience, but he regards it 
 as the greatest moment of his life. He insists that you 
 were heroic." 
 
 Ann grew a little petulant. "I wish you wouldn t 
 try to make mountains out of mole -hills. It was 
 a most unpleasant experience, and I wish to forget 
 it not to have it dinned in my ears forever. My 
 going was folly, and my stay in that ghastly place 
 was a torment. Please allow me to put it out of my 
 memory." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett looked at her friend in amazement. 
 "Ann Rupert, do you realize what you ve done? 
 You ve almost lost your temper. Wouldn t I rejoice 
 if that night s vigil with death had shaken you out of 
 your indirTerentism. I tell you, life isn t the tepid thing 
 you think it is. You re bored with things that once 
 
 96 
 
The New Life 
 
 seemed worth while, but there are emotional facts in 
 the world, my serene lady." 
 
 Ann rose. "I must go dress for dinner. Are we to 
 have the usual collection of civil-engineers and English 
 adventurers? You never had any subtlety of method, 
 Jeannette. I don t mind your flinging these young 
 men at my head, but, for Heaven s sake, don t be so ob 
 vious, or I shall begin to hate your horde of nonde 
 scripts." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett sank back in her chair. "Your ego 
 tism is insufferable. Sometimes I think you re not 
 worthy the least of your suitors ; but you ll meet your 
 master one of these days." 
 
 Ann disdained to reply, and walked away really 
 angry. "If she is going to take that tone, life here will 
 be intolerable. I don t see why my friends should all 
 be so eager to marry me off without my consent." 
 
 She had a moment of bitter homesickness, a feeling 
 she had never known before. This mad trip into the 
 West with a reckless and supersensitive boy grew each 
 moment more disastrous. At the moment she fairly 
 hated her cousins and all the guests at their table, 
 and longed, with unspeakable hunger, for the roll of 
 carriages on Fifth Avenue and the glitter and tumult 
 of Broadway. The stony, uninterested stare of her 
 mother was better than this prying, this overstrained 
 interest on the part of Jeannette. 
 
 As for Raymond, he had been momentarily interest 
 ing as a cow-boy, and when he was lying at the brink of 
 the grave he had assumed tragic value ; but now that he 
 was on the way to recovery he ceased to interest. " He 
 is merely one of the thousands of other commonplace 
 young Eastern men who have tried their fortunes in 
 
 7 07 
 
Hesper 
 
 the West and failed," she said. "Why should I be 
 burdened with any further care of him?" 
 
 Her resentment still sat upon her face as she went 
 down to dinner, and though she was more than usually 
 white and impassive she was also more alluring to the 
 young engineers and college professors who bowed be 
 fore her with hearts of wax. The man on her right, 
 a government botanist, just returned from a four- 
 months trip in the dearth and desolation of Arizona, 
 had all his fingers turned into thumbs by her beauty, 
 and every attempt to serve her threatened disfigure 
 ment to furniture and to table-ware. 
 
 Don told again, for the fortieth time, the story of 
 Raymond s shooting, and in spite of Ann s protests 
 put her in as the heroine, which reinfuriated her al 
 most to the point of leaving the table. The " Ah s!" 
 and "Dear me s!" and "By Jove s!" volleying from 
 the listeners were quite insupportable. One lady 
 said, "Poor fellow!" 
 
 "Not at all," said Dr. Braide. "He was a lucky 
 dog. I d be shot any day to get such a nurse." 
 
 Jeannette saw the angry flush on Ann s face, and 
 hastily turned the conversation into less personal 
 channels. 
 
 Thus every influence swept her towards a dislike 
 of the wounded man s very name, and thereafter she 
 ignored his presence in the house his being in the 
 world as though he did not exist. She neither asked 
 after his health nor replied to any report or question 
 made by her brother concerning him. 
 
 Louis brought to Raymond one day a small, limp 
 book in red leather, which he proffered with the air 
 of giving a gem. 
 
The New Life 
 
 " What s this?" asked Raymond. "Your diary?" 
 
 "No; my father s. He was out here before I was 
 born when the Indians were here." 
 
 Raymond opened the volume with languid interest, 
 but soon realized that he was looking into the past 
 through the eyes of a poet. Part of it was written in 
 ink, very legibly, but in a fine, running hand, while 
 other of the pages were hastily scribbled in pencil, 
 and not to be easily deciphered. Plainly the record 
 had been made under great disadvantages and in the 
 field. The inks were of various colors, some watery 
 blue, some dusty black. 
 
 "Can you read this?" asked the rancher. 
 
 "Every word of it," the boy proudly answered. 
 
 "Decipher this for me this one in pencil." 
 
 Louis took the book and read, reverently: " I am 
 sitting on a stone beside an overturned coach at the 
 foot of Gooseneck Hill. Happily our coach is upright. 
 Accidents do happen, it seems. Wonderful to say, no 
 one was killed not even the driver, who was responsi 
 ble for the accident. He lost control of his team some 
 way. We could see it all from the opposite side of the 
 valley. It was tremendously exciting to watch them 
 sweeping down the trail like a bead on a wire. It 
 made me think of De Quincey. Our driver has hardly 
 spoken a word since. We ve all been busy getting the 
 people out of the coach and disentangling the team." 1 
 
 "That must have been the hill coming down to Clear 
 Creek," remarked Raymond. "Go on." 
 
 " It ends right there," said Louis, regretfully. " He 
 got on the coach and didn t have time to write again 
 till he reached Midgely s Ranch." He resumed read 
 ing. " At first sight I was deeply impressed and a 
 
 99 
 
Hesper 
 
 little alarmed by the rough dress and heavy arms of 
 the men at this " half-way house." The walls were fes 
 tooned with glittering new revolvers; but on closer in 
 spection I discovered that most of these men were as 
 harmless and as timid as myself. But there was some 
 thing wildly grand in arriving as we did in the biting 
 dusk at this lonely ranch, with its barking dogs, its big 
 sheds swarming with horses. As I write here by the 
 great open hearth, the roar of an icy, swift mountain 
 stream mingles with the voice of the fire. There is 
 something gloriously primeval in it all. I feel as 
 though I were about to enter upon the actualities of a 
 great American epic. I wish I had the power to ex 
 press this scene in verse. 
 
 The boy stopped, this time from emotion. "I wish 
 I could find that place. Do you suppose we could?" 
 
 "Yes; but it wouldn t be the same. The valley is 
 full of cattle now, the trees are all cut down irrigating 
 ditches everywhere. The glory has gone, boy. Stick 
 to the little red book. Have you any idea how your 
 father looked at that time?" 
 
 Louis glowed again. " See here!" He extended the 
 book again, opened at the front, wherein the picture of 
 a slender, smiling, handsome young fellow in sombrero 
 and hunting-clothes had been pasted. 
 
 " He enjoyed his new hat, didn t he?" said Raymond, 
 to whom the essential incongruity of the refined face 
 and border-ruffian toggery first appealed. "You re 
 the image of your father," he added, looking keenly at 
 the boy. " He don t look much older in this picture 
 taken at Sylvanite. Well, Sylvanite was a wild town 
 in those days. Is there much about it in the book?" 
 
 "Ten pages. He wrote a page of fine script every 
 100 
 
The New Life 
 
 day; but I don t care -so much for that these stage- 
 rides, and the big canons; and crossing the- rivers, and 
 the Indians he saw lots of Indians the Utes 
 these are what interest me." 
 
 Raymond became profoundly interested in this book. 
 Without conscious literary taste himself, he was able 
 to perceive the unusual power with which the young 
 traveller marshalled words. He read on, absorbed by 
 the passion and purity of the young man s spirit. It 
 was unaccountable that he should have this love and 
 longing for the wilderness. What sort of a man was 
 he? It was plain that Louis, and not Ann, had re 
 ceived the father s inheritance of romantic love for 
 the untracked spaces. 
 
 There was an appeal in the closing entry of this jour 
 nal which touched Raymond profoundly, for his love 
 of the high country and its sunshine and starshine, 
 though less poetic in expression, was deeper in the 
 grain. The entry was headed "The Last View." 
 can still see the purple peaks lording over the plain. 
 The portals of the West are closing behind me. In an 
 hour my mountains of Hesper will have sunk beneath 
 the plains. I love my home and my friends in the 
 East, but this primeval world has laid its spell upon 
 me. I shall come again next year." 
 
 "Did he come again?" asked Raymond of the boy. 
 
 "No," answered Louis, sadly. And it was soon 
 evident to Raymond that the lad knew very little of 
 his father beyond the message in the worn little book. 
 
 " Leave this with me, Louis. I want to read it all," 
 he said, and the boy was glad of this interest. 
 
 Mrs. Barnett came in later and asked, "What are 
 
 you reading?" 
 
 101 
 
Hesper 
 
 "It is a journal kept by Louis father Did you 
 know him?"-- . . " - . - 
 
 "Oh, very well. He wats my favorite uncle." 
 "Tell me of him. Who was he how did he come 
 to make this trip?" 
 
 Mrs. Barnett took a comfortable seat. " I don t know 
 where Uncle Phil got his streak of sentiment. He was 
 one of six brothers, all successful business-men; keen, 
 practical you know the kind. But Phil Well, he 
 was the odd sheep he always seemed a boy to me. 
 He worked in the bank, but his mind was on other 
 things. I don t remember how they came to send him 
 out here, but I can recall perfectly the effect he had 
 on me when talking of his trip. He glorified this 
 country. He saw the mountains as the old-time land- 
 scapists pictured them. When I first came I wept 
 with disappointment, the range seemed so prosaic by 
 contrast. He talked of nothing else for a year. Then 
 he married, and gradually ceased referring to his ex 
 periences." 
 
 "He never came again, Louis tells me." 
 " No. His wife was not the kind of girl to go West. 
 I don t want to say anything severe about Alicia, but 
 she made Phil very unhappy. When Ann was born, 
 Phil wanted to call her Hesper in memory of his trip 
 to the West but Alicia cried out against it. It was 
 an odd name, but it was pretty, and there was no 
 reason why the father shouldn t have had his wish; 
 but that was her way. She was cold and selfish even 
 in her honeymoon. I never saw such a girl. Phil went 
 with her to every fashionable resort in Europe, but she 
 not merely refused to make a trip into his Hesperean 
 Mountains, but she wouldn t let him go. He used to 
 
 102 
 
The New Life 
 
 get up into the Adirondacks now and then, I remem 
 ber, but only for a day or two. Oh, how exacting she 
 was! After Louis was born she grew worse. She be 
 came morbid. I never could see that she had a par 
 ticle of maternal affection. If Ann isn t like her, it is 
 because Phil s blood is in her veins. Louis is exactly 
 as Phil was, as I recall him when I saw him first." 
 
 "You say the father called her Hesper?" pursued 
 Raymond, acutely interested in all that concerned 
 Ann. 
 
 " It was his pet name for her. Few people know it. 
 I don t think Louis knows it for Ann considered the 
 name absurd as she grew older, and never refers to it. 
 I think it is a pretty name don t you?" 
 
 "Yes. It is beautiful." His eyes took on a musing 
 look. "I can understand how he felt, for, in those 
 days the Crestones were fabled mountains. All this 
 country seemed a great way off almost as remote as 
 the place where the evening-star goes down I sup 
 pose that is what he meant. It s all quite common 
 place now." 
 
 "Not to Louis." 
 
 11 That s true. He sees it as a boy sees the world, and 
 then he s read this little book till his father s thought 
 adds the glory of the past to it. I suppose his sister 
 takes her mother s view." 
 
 "Yes; she s her mother s daughter," answered Mrs. 
 Barnett, significantly. "I don t know what to think 
 of the girl. There are times when I love her dearly, 
 and then again she exasperates me so I want to box 
 her ears." 
 
 Hesper! Somehow the name expressed the poetry 
 of the father s conception, and with little else to do 
 
 103 
 
Hesper 
 
 the wounded man gave long hours to recalling and 
 reliving his experiences with her as his nurse. 
 
 He longed with a great longing to see her again, but 
 to his curious shyness had been added the humility of 
 one who feels himself unworthy to ask any favor, and 
 the troubled look which came now and again into the 
 lines of his face made Louis sad. The boy idealized him, 
 made of him a wonderful being, better worth serving 
 than any monarch, and in this strain he talked to Ann 
 till she impatiently begged him to stop. 
 
 "You must not fix upon such a man as your ideal, 
 Louis. What has he done that you should exalt him? 
 You don t even know his real name." 
 
 This the boy was compelled to admit. "Of course I 
 don t know much about him, but I like him, all the 
 same. I know he would make a brave fight, if he 
 were called upon to do so. You can t always tell why 
 you like a person. He s awfully gentle and considerate 
 when you come to know him, and he s a bully story 
 teller." 
 
 "All that may be true, and he still be unworthy 
 your adoration. You must remember, laddie, that 
 your passion for the wild West is of recent develop 
 ment. You may change. Father returned from his 
 trip and settled down, you remember, and never went 
 back." 
 
 "Yes, but he didn t forget. He was always talking 
 about it, and you can tell what it meant to him by 
 what he wrote. If I had known about his journal 
 earlier, I would have been out here before this. I 
 didn t like England, I didn t care for Europe. I do 
 love this, and I don t see why you can t leave me here 
 and go back," he ended, at the brink of tears. 
 
 104 
 
The New Life 
 
 "Now, now, what are you complaining about?" she 
 asked, with sharp inflection. " I haven t asked you to 
 go home. I was only trying to correct your absurd 
 estimate of Mr. Raymond." 
 
 "You needn t bother," he cried out, hurt and sad 
 dened. "I can take care of myself." 
 
 In her secret heart Ann admitted that she, too, had 
 been touched by the indefinable charm of Raymond s 
 voice and manner;* but the question of how best to 
 check his growing power over her brother s life had be 
 come a very serious problem, for as the days wore on 
 he put her aside as completely as she ignored his hero. 
 Together Raymond and the boy read the little red 
 book, mapping the points described as best they could 
 a task of some difficulty, for the traveller had pur 
 posely given mythical names to the towns, rivers, and 
 peaks. It had all been a wonderland to Philip Rupert, 
 and he took care to have no stupid or vulgar name 
 mar the perfect effect. 
 
 There was something in all this which refined and 
 softened the young rancher. Joined with his love for 
 " Hesper " (as he loved to call Ann in secret), this boy 
 ish father s enthusiasms transmuted every reckless, 
 bitter impulse into stern resolutions to enter upon a 
 new life a life with purpose and devotion in its 
 course. 
 
 Everything conspired to make Ann alluring. The 
 rough walls of the ranch-house had been a foil for her 
 exquisite color, her daintiness, her calm beauty. Then, 
 through the long night, as she softened, growing wan 
 and sorrowful over him, he had watched her, absorb 
 ing every detail of her presence ; even in his pain and 
 while facing death he had taken account of the sweet 
 
 105 
 
Hesper 
 
 line of her quivering lips, her graceful hands, so soft 
 and strong, and of her deep, serious eyes. She had 
 come to stand for something more than a woman to 
 him. She was clothed in light by his gratitude and his 
 passionate, adoring love. 
 
VIII 
 Raymond Vanishes 
 
 A^ last there came a day when the doctor permitted 
 his patient to be clothed and seated in an easy- 
 chair, and, calling Mrs. Barnett to him, Raymond 
 asked, "Do you think Miss Rupert will see me now?" 
 
 "I will ask her," replied Jeannette, with due appre 
 ciation of the romantic situation. 
 
 Ann rose to comply, with a little thrill of unpleasant 
 excitement. She did not want to see him, and yet she 
 could not decently refuse. 
 
 At the door of the sitting-room Mrs. Barnett stopped, 
 and the girl walked in alone, her face set in lines of cold 
 disdain. 
 
 Raymond sat in a big, padded chair, with his back to 
 the window and the sunlight streaming over his head. 
 He wore a handsome, gray dressing-gown, and the linen 
 at his neck and wrists was spotlessly clean. His 
 hands were refined almost delicate in effect, and his 
 clean-shaven face and his well-brushed, abundant brown 
 hair gave evidence of a most careful toilet. Some 
 thing mystically solemn and sweet was in his eyes, and 
 his lips trembled as he greeted her. "This is very 
 good of you. Pardon me, won t you? I am forbidden 
 to stand." 
 
 "I beg you, do not think of it." 
 107 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Dare I ask you to be seated? I want to thank you 
 more suitably than I have been able to do for what you 
 did for me." 
 
 Please don t, Mr. Raymond. I assure you I de 
 serve no credit. I went out there under compulsion, 
 and what I did was determined by pressure of circum 
 stances. I m not a bit of a heroine, and I do not like 
 praise." 
 
 He was chilled by her tone, and for a moment hesi 
 tated. "A sick man may be forgiven some things," he 
 began to say at last. "I may as well confess that I 
 have been longing to see you. I have been trying for 
 many days to rise and dress, in order that I might have 
 you come in. You must let me ask your forgiveness 
 for the rude way in which I received you that day. 
 All that I did seems incredible to me now like the 
 action of another man." 
 
 A gleam of amusement crossed Ann s face. "I 
 didn t blame you. I m willing to admit that your po 
 sition was trying." 
 
 He was too exalted of mood to respond to her quiz 
 zical tone. "I had lived for years quite apart from 
 any from association with cultivated people, and, be 
 sides, I had begun to feel that I was wasting my life, 
 and had become irritable. I went to the ranch to 
 pay off a debt, and I well, I had fallen into a groove. 
 You recalled me to better things." 
 
 "I and the bullet," she said, rather flippantly, for 
 she was becoming apprehensive of the trend of his con 
 fidences. 
 
 He ignored her interruption, or, rather, he ploughed 
 across it with something like his old-time resolution. 
 " It is due to you to know or, at any rate, I desire you 
 
 108 
 
Raymond Vanishes 
 
 to know, that I am not a fugitive from justice. Bakef 
 thought he was being funny." 
 
 I am not so dull as you think, Mr. Raymond. I 
 understood him perfectly." 
 
 " I am glad you did. It is true I am estranged from 
 my family, but it is not due My faults have never 
 been criminal." 
 
 "Please do not feel it necessary to explain," inter 
 rupted Ann. "It is painful to you, and and it is 
 wholly unnecessary. I beg you to desist. I hope you 
 will understand that I am in no sense doubting you." 
 
 A shadow of pain crossed his face. Somehow the 
 reality of their meeting was not as he had imagined it. 
 
 She, on her part, was angry and displeased with her 
 self, and resentful of his implied social equality, and yet 
 he looked the gentleman, and his face was very hand 
 some, very moving in its clear pallor; suffering had in 
 finitely refined its lines, but she could not forget his 
 services as cook and cow-boy, and, besides, she hated 
 being perturbed. She resolutely changed the subject. 
 
 "Dr. Braide says you are getting on splendidly, and 
 that you will soon be returning to the ranch." 
 
 Checked and chilled by her manner, he plainly aban 
 doned all further thought of confiding in her and an 
 swered, wearily and sadly, "It will be a long time be 
 fore I return to the life on the ranch. I have other 
 plans now." 
 
 Ann half regretted her action, and, as she rose, said, 
 with a smiling assumption of easy, friendly interest, 
 which hurt him worse than anything she had hitherto 
 spoken, " I think it wonderful, the way you are coming 
 on. We will see you at dinner in a few days." 
 
 "Thank you. I shall be down at the earliest mo- 
 
 109 
 
Hesper 
 
 ment," he quietly replied, and leaned back in his chair, 
 white and suffering, his eyes closed, his lips quivering. 
 
 Ann was well aware that she had not lived up to her 
 higher self in this interview, and that she had been 
 cruelly unresponsive and distant with him. "And yet I 
 don t see how I could have acted differently," she argued 
 with her better self. " He must not go on thinking me 
 more deeply interested in his life than I really am. He 
 must be taught that a mere accidental meeting, such 
 as ours has been, is not the working-out of fate at 
 least, not with me. It is better for him to suffer a lit 
 tle now than a great deal further on." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett was impatiently waiting for her return. 
 
 "What did he say?" she breathlessly asked. "I m 
 dying to know." 
 
 Ann answered with evasive indifference. "He 
 thanked me again for my heroic action, and begged 
 pardon for his rudeness; all of which he might have 
 spared himself the trouble of repeating." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett was on the scent for romance. "What 
 else?" 
 
 "Nothing else." 
 
 "Poor fellow! He has been struggling towards this 
 event for days. Only the doctor s express orders kept 
 him from getting up ten days ago. He has been all the 
 morning dressing for it, and now you tell me, in that 
 supercilious tone, that nothing happened." 
 
 Ann fired into anger. "What could happen? You 
 needn t speak in riddles, Jeannette Ward. What do 
 you think should have happened come, now, you 
 silly, romantic thing?" 
 
 Mrs. Barnett became evasive in her turn. " He 
 might have told you the story of his life." 
 
 no 
 
Raymond Vanishes 
 
 Why should he do that, and why should I listen to 
 it?" Ann replied, with more of heat and bitterness than 
 the case seemed to demand. "I am not his father- 
 confessor. I always knew you were absurdly romantic, 
 but this is beyond anything. I warn you, if you go 
 any further in this direction, we shall fight." 
 
 Some note in her voice touched Mrs. Barnett, and 
 she slowly replied: "Ann Rupert, you are the coldest, 
 cruelest creature I ever knew. I know what you did to 
 that poor fellow you unmercifully snubbed him you 
 froze his gratitude on his lips. Of course, you are in 
 finitely his superior" she became weakly sarcastic at 
 this point "but you are not justified in stabbing a 
 sick man to the heart." 
 
 "You re quite mistaken. I was very nice to him." 
 
 "Nice! I ve seen you nice to young men before. 
 Oh, I d like to see some man crush you! I d enjoy 
 seeing you crawl!" 
 
 Ann, quite restored to good-humor, smiled, and the 
 gleam of her beautiful teeth brought back her girlish 
 charm. " I like your kind heart, Jeannette. Anger is 
 becoming to you," and she took up a book and re 
 tired to her favorite chair. 
 
 Mrs. Barnett went immediately to Raymond s door 
 and knocked. At his word she entered. He sat where 
 Ann had left him, but Louis was beside him, showing 
 him a new drawing. 
 
 "Isn t that wonderful!" said Raymond, holding the 
 sketch in the air, his eyes aglow with pride in the 
 boy. "If I could do that I would never be lonesome 
 or restless. I wish I knew my use in the world as cer 
 tainly as Louis does." 
 
 The young artist flushed with the pleasure. "It s 
 in 
 
Hesper 
 
 just as wonderful to ride the way you do and throw 
 a rope and all that. I ll teach you to draw if you 
 want me to." 
 
 Raymond turned to Mrs. Barnett with a look in 
 which amusement and a certain sorrow met. "I m 
 long past such instruction, lad. I haven t sense enough 
 to keep out of mischief. You draw and I ll do the 
 posing. I m a good poser; don t you think so, Mrs. 
 Barnett?" 
 
 I don t know what you mean?" said she, feeling 
 vaguely his pain and discouragement his disillusion 
 ment. 
 
 "I posed as a farmer and deceived good Don Bar 
 nett. I made up for a cow-boy and fooled Baker and 
 the rest of the squad. And now I m posing as an in 
 valid when I ought to be out on the ranch again. It s 
 time I rode away to a new range." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett was alarmed at the undertone of bitter 
 ness in his words. " You must not think of even walk 
 ing down-stairs for a week." 
 
 " But I can t sit here and sink deeper and deeper into 
 obligation to you," he answered. " What rights have I 
 in this room? I m only a poor, wandering ne er-do- 
 well, and your beautiful home makes me ashamed 
 more than ashamed it fills me with a sense of guilt. 
 I can walk now, and I ought not stay another 
 day." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett knew very well that his mood was due 
 to Ann s icy disdain, and she realized, too, how difficult 
 the task of diverting his mind from this foolish purpose 
 would be. She said, gently: "You were injured in our 
 service, Robert, and it is our duty to look after you. 
 You must not utter another word of this sort of talk to 
 
 112 
 
Raymond Vanishes 
 
 me, or I will call Don, and then you will hear a voice 
 that will make you quake." 
 
 He smiled. "Men don t make me quake, but girls 
 have always scared me blue, I admit it." He returned 
 to his original thought. " But I ve been such a burden 
 to you all these days, that troubles me. Your kind 
 ness has been out of all proportion to my deserving." 
 
 "There s only one way in which to repay our kind 
 ness." 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 " By keeping in a heavenly temper, and getting well 
 and strong. I tell you, frankly, I will not listen to your 
 walking out of this room for a week." 
 
 Louis, who had been sitting in some wonder, trying 
 to catch the undercurrent of this talk, put his hand on 
 Raymond s knee and said, "When you go, I go, too; 
 remember that." 
 
 Raymond, looking down into the boy s admiring, 
 shining face, slowly replied: "I can t promise that, 
 Louis. I ve cut loose from the old life. What my 
 new life will be I can t tell. It s all uncertainty now." 
 
 "There s time to settle all that," said Mrs. Barnett, 
 decisively, "after you are able to walk. For the pres 
 ent you are our guest, or, if not that, our prisoner, and 
 I appoint Louis turnkey." 
 
 "Hah!" cried Louis, melodramatically. "The boy 
 turnkey is on your trail; escape if you can!" 
 
 Mrs. Barnett left the room while yet it echoed to 
 their laughter. "He s too good for Ann Rupert, and 
 that s the truth," she said to her husband. "He s a 
 splendid fellow. I don t care what his mystery is." 
 
 It was interesting to Jeannette to observe that even* 
 8 113 
 
Hesper 
 
 ing-dress changed Ann s estimate of Raymond s char 
 acter. He was not a boor, that the girl already knew; 
 but she was conventional enough to welcome a chance 
 to see this unaccountable ranchman in the garb of po 
 lite society. She had to admit that he looked surpris 
 ingly well as he came slowly into the library just before 
 the little Chinese chime sounded for dinner. Every 
 trace of the cow-boy, the man of sun-smit, wind-swept 
 plain, was gone. He was pale, languid, but self-con 
 tained, and wore his dinner-suit with easy grace. 
 
 Mrs. Barnett ran to him with outstretched hands. 
 "Why, Mr. Raymond, are you sure the doctor will 
 sanction this? Please don t stand take a chair. 
 Does Don know of this?" 
 
 "Oh yes. He sent me on ahead in order to sur 
 prise you." 
 
 "You certainly have succeeded in doing that. I m 
 so glad to have you down, only you must not overdo 
 it. Isn t he looking well, Ann?" 
 
 His manner towards Ann was that of a polite ac 
 quaintance merely, and her fear of something she 
 hardly knew what instantly vanished. Her imagina 
 tion was stirred by the vivid contrast between the fig 
 ure he now made and the lithe, sullen, booted and 
 spurred rancher cooking that rank and odorous supper. 
 "He plays the part well," she thought. "I wonder 
 who and what he really is." And she half wished at 
 the moment that she had permitted him to confide to 
 her his life s history. 
 
 His bearing during dinner and throughout the even 
 ing made her forget the kind of person he had hitherto 
 seemed to her, and she began to study him in his true 
 character. He dropped all his ranch-life phrases, and, 
 
 114 
 
Raymond Vanishes 
 
 putting aside his reserve, talked with entire intellectual 
 freedom, showing a knowledge of books and of com 
 munities remarkable in any man. He assumed noth 
 ing, but grew frank and gay almost to boyishness, 
 and his eyes, when they met hers, were as politely 
 deferential and as distantly admiring as those of the 
 college professor who sat opposite. Once or twice, as 
 she encountered his glance, a mysterious movement 
 ran about her heart, and her breath quickened. 
 
 As they rose from dinner, and while he stood to allow 
 her to pass, he said: "You are very beautiful to-night. 
 Mountain air has done wonders for you." 
 
 "You are very courteous," she responded, and her 
 eyes fell, exasperatingly, and she walked away with a 
 sense of having revealed a weakness. 
 
 He came into the drawing-room half an hour later to 
 say good-night to his hostess, looking very tired and 
 pale, and when he took Ann s hand his eyes were burn 
 ing with deep, inner passion. "Good-night," he said, 
 "and forgive me for any impertinence." She scarcely 
 had time to reply, to ask his meaning, for Mrs. Barnett 
 ordered him instantly to bed. 
 
 No sooner was he safely out of hearing than the la 
 dies began to discuss him, and turned to Ann in the 
 hope that she would recount the story of her eventful 
 night on the ranch, but Ann shrugged her shoulders, 
 and a perceptible frown gathered on her brow. "Oh, 
 please don t ask me to go over that dreadful experience 
 again," she protested, and her displeasure was too genu 
 ine to be mistaken. 
 
 With instant good-will the guests fell upon a discus 
 sion of the merits of the new Hungarian band which 
 had but recently been engaged for the Casino, while 
 
Hesper 
 
 Ann sat in silence, a perplexed abstraction in her 
 eyes. 
 
 Louis became restless as soon as Raymond left the 
 dining-room the talk of the men did not interest him 
 and after a few minutes slipped out and, mounting 
 the stairs, knocked timidly at Rob s door. He was 
 on the point of turning away when Raymond called, 
 "Come!" As Louis entered, the young rancher looked 
 tip from his writing absent-mindedly. " Hullo, artist !" 
 he said, with an effort at his usual camaraderie. " Have 
 you finished your cigar?" 
 
 Louis, almost as embarrassed as a girl, twisted on 
 his heel. There was no reason for his visit, except that 
 he would rather be with his hero than with his cousin. 
 Raymond, on his part, was disturbed by the boy s com 
 ing, and for a moment an awkwardness, hitherto un 
 known, silenced them both. At last the man spoke. 
 "Well, laddie, what can I do for you?" 
 
 Louis searched his mind for some excuse. "Can t 
 you go riding with me to-morrow. I want to be the 
 first one to go out with you." 
 
 "I don t believe I ll be able to ride for some time. 
 I have a notion that I ll walk a good while before 
 I ride. I feel pretty tired just from climbing the 
 stairs." 
 
 "Well, then, let s take a walk to-morrow morning." 
 
 "We ll see what the doctor says. Good-night," Ray 
 mond replied, and Louis went reluctantly away, prom 
 ising to call him at seven. 
 
 No voice responded to his knock next morning, and, 
 hurrying to Barnett s room, Louis called, excitedly, 
 "Cousin Don, have you seen Rob?" 
 
 116 
 
Raymond Vanishes 
 
 Barnett, splashing in his tub, shouted, "No; can t 
 you find him?" 
 
 "He isn t in his room." 
 
 "He s gone down to breakfast, then. Hurry along 
 and keep him company. Don t let him go out." 
 
 Louis rushed into the breakfast -room, but found it 
 empty. The maid said: "Are you looking for Mr. 
 Raymond ? He came down very early and said he was 
 going out for a walk." 
 
 The boy hurried out-doors, filled with dismay. " He 
 shouldn t be out alone. He might get dizzy and fall." 
 He ran round the block, eagerly seeking Raymond, who 
 was nowhere in sight. When Barnett entered Rob s 
 room he found three letters lying on the little desk. 
 One was addressed to Don, one to Ann, and one to 
 "Turnkey Louis." 
 
 Barnett broke the seal and read his note almost at a 
 glance. 
 
 "DEAR BARNETT, I m sorry to pull out in this way, 
 but I am afraid it s my only way. I have been very un 
 comfortable because of my growing indebtedness to you 
 and Mrs. Barnett, and so I have cut loose. Please don t 
 think me ungrateful, It is because I feel so deeply your 
 kindness that I go. Don t look for me. I m going to 
 hole-up for a few days till I get strong. If you happen to 
 get any clew to where I ve gone, don t tell the boy. I 
 can see that his sister does not approve of his fondness for 
 me, and she is quite right. I m not a proper companion 
 for a boy of his sort. I enclose a check, which squares 
 us so far as money can, but your kindness in other ways, 
 and especially Mrs. Barnett s care and assistance, I am 
 in despair of ever paying. I slide out because it would be 
 difficult and painfuf to say good-bye, and, besides, I feel 
 that I must cut loose from the boy." 
 
 117 
 
Hesper 
 
 Raymond s note to Ann was short, almost curt: 
 
 "Since my thanks are a burden to you, the least I can 
 do is to take myself out of your life and beg pardon for 
 having entered it. Had I attended to my duties that 
 night of the fire, you would not have been troubled by 
 me. I stayed because you were beautiful, and that is the 
 whole truth. It is not the first time a man has neglected 
 his duties for a woman, and the pain I now suffer in giving 
 up all hope of meeting you again is a just punishment for 
 my presumption. I am sorry to go without saying good 
 bye to Louis, but it is best. I know you do not like his 
 growing regard for me, and you are quite right." 
 
 Ann s first feeling was one of resentment. "He is 
 putting me in the wrong." Then came a distinct sense 
 of guilt. As she recalled his words and glances of the 
 night before, she was able to interpret what had puz 
 zled her. Had she made life intolerable for him? For 
 a moment she suffered with a sense of having driven 
 him into danger, and returned to the letter. No, it was 
 too firm, too decided, to even remotely suggest a flee 
 ing from life. 
 
 Louis came to her door and cried out, dolefully, 
 "Ann, Rob has gone away." 
 
 "I know it. Come in." 
 
 He entered with troubled, tearful face, and, in deeply 
 aggrieved tone, said: "He went without saying good 
 bye. I want to go hunt him and bring him back, but 
 Uncle Don says that we must respect his wish. All the 
 same, I like him, and I want him back. No, I don t I 
 want to go with him." 
 
 "And leave me?" 
 
 His resentment, long smouldering, burst forth: "Yes, 
 1x8 
 
Raymond Vanishes 
 
 I would! Don t you suppose I have seen how you 
 treated him? You think because you re from New 
 York you can snub a man like Rob; but you re not 
 up to him you re not half as good as he is. I m going 
 away, and I m never coming back. You re a hateful, 
 miserable thing. You don t do anything but look 
 down on people." He stamped his foot. "I despise 
 you. I don t care if you are my sister. I wish the 
 devil would get you." 
 
 Ann listened in astonishment to this outburst from 
 her brother, and then cuttingly remarked: 
 
 " One would think I had taken away some plaything 
 of yours. Go out of my room, and stay out till you 
 can treat me with respect." 
 
 "I m going, and you ll never see me again. I m go 
 ing to follow Rob. I don t care what you say." With 
 this defiant cry he rushed from the room. 
 
 Ann remained seated before her dressing-table for a 
 long time in silence. Louis utterance, while of a piece 
 with his occasional emotional outbreaks, had gone be 
 yond all bounds, all reason. Never before had his 
 anger reached black rage. What was there in Ray 
 mond to win and wear such devotion? He had dis 
 played himself not at all. Since his wound he had been 
 able to do little except to lie on his bed and permit 
 Louis to read to him and prattle of plans for the future ; 
 and yet he had taken first place in the boy s life. " He 
 has turned my brother s love to hate." 
 
 A keen ache of jealousy ran through the proud girl s 
 heart. The one soul of vital interest in her life her 
 sweet little brother seemed about to pass from her 
 hands to that of an adventurer. Her resentment of his 
 influence blazed hot within her. "I will defeat him 
 
 119 
 
Hesper 
 
 with his own weapons," she said. "I will win him 
 back to me. I will go wherever he wishes to go." 
 
 But Louis did not return to lunch, and she was 
 greatly troubled. He did not appear at dinner, and 
 at last, openly alarmed, Ann told Mrs. Barnett of Louis 
 bitter accusation and of his threat that he would never 
 return. 
 
 The man has bewitched him. He was fairly beside 
 himself. Where can he have gone?" 
 
 "Don t worry. Don will find him. He ll get tired 
 of it and come back. These boyish tantrums don t 
 last." 
 
 It scares me to think of that poor, innocent lad 
 spending the night alone in a big, wicked Western city. 
 I wish Don would hurry home. Can t I go down to 
 his office?" 
 
 "Oh no; there s no need of you re going. I ll tele 
 phone him at once." 
 
 When Barnett returned, Ann, white with anxiety, 
 poured out her story. He comforted her by saying, 
 "You take it too seriously. I will notify the police at 
 Cinnabar and Mogalyon. They ll locate him in an 
 hour." 
 
 They did not find him, and Ann passed a miserable 
 night, imagining all sorts of ill adventures into which 
 Louis might be led, and would have accompanied Bar 
 nett on his quest next day but for his firm command: 
 "Don t be absurd. I can find him alone much 
 quicker." 
 
 " Bring him back, if you have to use force," she cried. 
 And then, with a knowledge of Raymond s power, she 
 added, "If you find Mr. Raymond, please tell him to 
 send laddie home say I wish it." 
 
 120 
 
Raymond Vanishes 
 
 With these words in his ear Barnett took his way to 
 his office. At lunch he was more concerned. "He s 
 not in Cinnabar, nor any of the surrounding towns. 
 He may have gone back to the ranch. I will wire out 
 there this afternoon. Did he have any money ?" 
 
 "Yes. I had just given him his allowance. He 
 must have had nearly two hundred dollars." 
 
 Don whistled. "A smart boy can hide-out a good 
 while on that. However, he ll come back when his 
 pet wears off." 
 
 Even though Raymond had taken himself bodily out 
 of her life, his power to disturb and thwart Ann s will 
 remained. She began to fear him a little. He was 
 bigger, more powerful, than she had thought him. 
 Could she have found him in the days which followed 
 days of increasing unrest and anxiety she would have 
 humbly asked him to find the runaway and bring him 
 back to her ; but he had disappeared as utterly as if he 
 had never been. 
 
 Barnett visited several of the neighboring towns, in 
 cluding Bozle, the great mining town, but without 
 result, and Ann began to distrust even her brother, and 
 to wonder whether he and Raymond had not planned 
 this desertion together; and this thought gave her a 
 painful sense of being alone and loveless in the world. 
 
IX 
 Raymond Enters Sky-Town 
 
 MEANWHILE, during Raymond s days on the 
 ranch, while the cattle were withering away on 
 the plains, and the long trail from the south was rilling 
 with grass, a most notable settlement had been forming 
 like some new kind of parasitic growth on the west 
 ward shoulder of old Mogalyon, the mighty peato the 
 west. Originally the hunting-ground for the Utes, this 
 land, after their withdrawal, became a mountain past 
 ure whereto the herds from the rainless lower coun 
 try were driven when the grass grew scant and sear. 
 It was, in fact, a high park surrounded by secondary 
 crests of the Rampart Range, but so suave, so fragrant 
 of bloom, so velvet-soft of grass were these genial sum 
 mits that the cow-boys, racing across them, thought of 
 them and spoke of them only as hills. The vast, far 
 away peaks of the Crestones alone appealed to them as 
 mountains. 
 
 In the midst of these hills, in the lap of two smooth, 
 grassy domes, old Philip Le Beau established a cow- 
 camp in the early seventies, and called it Belle Marie, 
 after his wife. This, however, proved to be too fanci 
 ful for his cow-boy neighbors, who promptly called it 
 " Le Beau s Hole," and in the end it was known among 
 cattle-men as Bozle Creek. 
 
 122 
 
Raymond Enters Sky-Town 
 
 Just west of Le Beau s Camp, and sentinel to the 
 valley of the Loup, stood a symmetrical peak which 
 some missionary to the red people had called Mount 
 Horeb. About the year 1870 some persons not mis 
 sionaries planted gold in the soil in convenient places 
 at the base of this hill, and raised a mighty shout over 
 the discovery of a new Eldorado. A rush took place, 
 and to the outside world the region became known as 
 "the Mount Horeb Mining District," and was alluded 
 to with deep-seated resentment, with curses; for the 
 sharp practices of those who made it known had caused 
 much loss of time and money. 
 
 But there were miners whom neither the dogmatic 
 opinions of geologists nor the tricks of schemers could 
 turn aside from a faith that somewhere on the mighty 
 slopes of Mogalyon lay veins of gold, and these con 
 tinued to chip and to dig and to hammer, even while 
 the cow-boys hallooed behind their rushing herds and 
 branded their calves in Le Beau s weather-beaten corral. 
 The world soon forgot Mount Horeb and its conscience 
 less swindlers, and the prospectors drifted to other and 
 more promising fields in other ranges to the west. 
 
 But Valley Springs was becoming known as a pleas 
 ant health resort, and the waters of its springs were 
 being bottled and shipped to the Eastern cities. Each 
 year a larger number of stricken ones came to find res 
 pite, if not recovery, in its gloriously bright sunlight 
 and pure air. For years it remained a village, and its 
 business-men merely shopkeepers and resident ranch- 
 owners, but, as its fame spread, families of wealth and 
 social position in the East began to settle along the 
 bank of The Bear, and to build homes into which the 
 sunlight streamed with healing magic ; and the men of 
 
 123 
 
Hesper 
 
 these families began to look about for business and for 
 investment, and not a few of them were in the mood to 
 listen when rough-bearded men began to plod down the 
 trail from Bozle Creek bringing sacks of promising ore. 
 
 Returns from these samples, sent away to be assayed, 
 started a flight of golden eagles east and west. Again 
 the adventurous youth, the skilled prospector, the gam 
 bler, the harlot, and all the uneasy and shifting ele 
 ments that follow such lures, poured into the valley 
 and toiled over the trail to the grassy hills of Bozle and 
 camped around old Le Beau s corrals to pick at the hills 
 and to wait developments. 
 
 At first, though short of breath by reason of the 
 altitude two full miles above the sea some of these 
 incomers laughed, and some were angry. "Gold! In 
 these grassy hills ? Impossible!" And they went away 
 again with bitter words. It was Mount Horeb repeated 
 on a large scale. 
 
 But the assay ers, the men of learning, persisted, and 
 in their little mortars brayed the ore, and in tiny, port 
 able furnaces smelted for many a sturdy miner minute 
 buttons of shining metal. The gold was there, and at 
 last even the most sceptical believed. 
 
 Then the inflow began in earnest. The trail was 
 beaten smooth by swarming feet. It became a stage- 
 road. A great railroad sent surveyors toiling up each 
 of the deep and winding canons in the attempt to reach 
 the mighty camp whose fame was beginning to shine 
 throughout the world. The beautiful, grassy hills were 
 blotched with eruptions of red earth. Mounds of soil 
 and broken rocks betrayed where soil-stained men bur 
 rowed like resolute moles beneath the sod. The rip 
 pling, shining groves of aspen disappeared, shaved 
 
 124 
 
Raymond Enters Sky-Town 
 
 away as with a prodigious scythe to provide walls for 
 cabins, wood for fires, timber for windlasses, and stulls 
 for mines. The tall, dark, martial - gestured firs fol 
 lowed, rank by rank. Paths appeared leading from bur 
 row to burrow like runways in a town of prairie-dogs. 
 
 The main street of Bozle was ten thousand feet above 
 the sea; but at last, on the top of Pine Mountain, a 
 vein of ore running two thousand dollars to the ton 
 was discovered, and another town arose full eleven 
 thousand feet above sea-level the highest town in all 
 America, and this became at once celebrated above all 
 others, and was called Sky-Town. 
 
 To this camp, as towards a blazing beacon, the men 
 who take chances came, and in its streets gold-hunters 
 from Australia, South Africa, and California mingled 
 with ox-eyed runaway plough-boys from Kansas and 
 Iowa, wind-tanned herders from Texas and Wyoming, 
 and tall planters from the valleys of Utah and Colorado. 
 These gentle and unsophisticated fortune-seekers were 
 called "alfalfa miners" by the hardened and self-con 
 fident men of hazards, and even after it became known 
 that more than half of all the big strikes had been made 
 by these same "tenderfeet" they were regarded with 
 contempt. In the end, Sky-Town dominated the whole 
 camp and gave name to it. Bozle, Grass Mountain, 
 Pin Gulch, Hoffman, all were subordinated in fame as 
 they were topographically, and the press alluded to the 
 region as the Sky-Town Mining District. 
 
 It was the most accessible of all the camps of Amer 
 ica. Its nearness to the plain and to the transconti 
 nental railways made it possible for the greenest of 
 green grocers, the most timid villager, to pack his valise 
 and invade the mountains; and he came! in tens of 
 
 I2 5 
 
Hesper 
 
 thousands ; but as he commonly walked the streets for a 
 week or two, looking on all the vice and hazard of the 
 place with wonder-stricken eyes, and then faded away, 
 returning to his hoe and his plough, his presence count 
 ed for little. The cow-boys, too, came loping in over 
 the trails from the round-ups in the valleys to the west 
 and from the plains to the east, but as they could not 
 mine from the saddle, and as they loved their horses 
 better than gold, they, too, filed away down the valley, 
 leaving their savings with the faro-banks. 
 
 In those days the bar-room of the Mountain House 
 in Bozle was the central stock-exchange of the whole 
 camp. It swarmed of an evening with business-men 
 from Denver, Kansas City, Chicago, Salt Lake, San 
 Francisco, and New York. Every great newspaper had 
 its representative there, alert and indefatigable, seeking 
 the latest word of strikes and sales; and great artists, 
 sent out by the Eastern magazines, sat about the mighty 
 log fire taking mental note of its details, and studying 
 the types gathered from the uttermost parts of the 
 , earth. 
 
 Notwithstanding Bozle s unprecedented accessibility, 
 these Eastern men loved to imagine themselves exposed 
 to dangers and to suffering such hardships as the gold- 
 hunters of California and Idaho had undergone. Some 
 J of them assumed the garb of wild Western desperadoes. 
 
 They wore guns, and strapped leather leggings to their 
 slender legs and clapped wide sombreros upon their 
 bald heads. They played parts in this border drama, 
 not merely for others like unto themselves, but for 
 themselves. When, under the lead of Rocky Moun 
 tain Kelly, they rode forth upon the hills, it was with a 
 sense of exploration, a seeking of adventure, a daring; 
 
 126 
 
Raymond Enters Sky -Town 
 
 of danger; and when at sunset they re-entered the 
 door of the hotel, it was with such joy as hunters hail 
 the gleam of the camp-fire, where faithful comrades 
 keep vigil. 
 
 Mingling with these genial actors, these boyish, 
 fraudulent bad men and desperate characters, were a 
 few investors from New York and Boston and London, 
 who prided themselves on never for a moment losing 
 their hold on a single habit or custom of their native 
 towns. The Boston man tetered about in patent- 
 leather shoes, with firm-set, pale jaw. The New-York 
 er wore the latest cut of coat and the newest shape of 
 pot-hat, while the Londoner querulously complained of 
 the soap and towels, and gloomily turned his fried 
 steak from end to end in hope of finding some part 
 of it broiled. 
 
 At the time when Raymond entered it, Sky-Town 
 was the busiest, most vital, and in some ways the most 
 picturesque mining district in the world. It was at its 
 height as a poor man s camp. New territory was being 
 opened up each day. Each evening brought stories of 
 strikes scores of them. Each saloon was a miniature 
 exchange and held a throng intently full of bargains 
 and plans, but the great central hall of the Mountain 
 House in Bozle was the chief meeting-place of expert, 
 prospector, and investor. 
 
 With all its bustle and pressure of elbow to elbow, 
 the streets were quiet. No man raised furious outcry, 
 for no one did battle with the fist the tradition of the 
 revolver was still all powerful. Curses were polite and 
 low- voiced, for the free miner, the gambler, the hunter, 
 and the cow-boy each alike resented brawling as the 
 cheap recreation of hired hands. To be quite fair, 
 
 127 
 
Hesper 
 
 only now and then was a man killed generally at the 
 gaming-tables so far had the camp recognized the 
 change since the days of forty-nine and sixty-three. 
 
 As the district was made up of those who took 
 chances, it followed that gaming was the chief amuse 
 ment of the miner and the business of first magnitude 
 even in the satloons. Every drinking - place had its 
 long rows of devices calculated to induce the unwary 
 or the self-confident to take instant hazard. Day 
 and night the click of the marble in the bowl, rattle of 
 " chips," the steady drone of the " crap-shooter " went 
 on. A mountain-poet, writing from close-hand experi 
 ence, said of a rival camp, "It is day all day in the 
 daytime, and there is no night in Creede;" and this 
 precisely applied to Sky-Town and Bozle. And yet old 
 miners, who had seen Yuma, Pocatello, and Dead Pine, 
 scornfully said: "This is a collection of tenderfeet a 
 town of punkin-rollers. The real thing is gone forever." 
 
 Admitting that they were right, it was vividly in 
 teresting to see this whirlpool absorb the grizzled and 
 scarred veterans of the inland ranges as well as the 
 truant sons of Kansas and Nebraska. It was a land 
 of which anything might be predicted a district as 
 cosmopolitan as any in the world. 
 
 The streets of Bozle were graceless and grassless, 
 but Valley Springs was a bower of trees and growing 
 vines. The houses of the peak were tents, sla b-shacks, 
 and cabins of aspen poles, and remained so, while 
 splendid stone palaces had already appeared in the 
 valley, and every comfort and nearly every luxury of 
 the East were obtainable, almost common. Both were 
 made resplendent by their association with the great 
 mountain, which for a hundred years had lured men 
 
 128 
 
Raymond Enters Sky-Town 
 
 across the dusty plain, beckoning with silent but 
 ever-changing majesty throughout the seasons. Valley 
 Springs sat at his feet. Bozle perched on his shoul 
 der, pecking at his heart like a vulture. 
 
 The residents of these singular towns, diverse as they 
 seemed, were, after all, of the same essential character. 
 They were gamblers by nature the men of the valley 
 no less than those of the peak. As one of them said: 
 " Gold is a priceless thing only for the few. It is not 
 a business it is a venture." 
 
 In other ways the people of Bozle were peculiar. 
 They took little account of the weather. Rains or 
 snows were alike to them. They had no gardens to 
 grow thirsty for water, no vegetables to be nipped by 
 the frost. Stocks and the daily output of this or that 
 mine formed their staple of interest, their chief anxiety. 
 They could not endure the slow growth of grain, but 
 they bore repeated failures of shafts or tunnels with 
 smiling unconcern. Dreaming of sudden wealth and 
 vast palaces in the future, they lived on bacon and 
 beans in cabins of poles so low that only the women 
 and children could walk erect. 
 
 The streets of this amazing camp were repulsive 
 and barren, but the sky that roofed them was superb. 
 Range after range of mountains lay to the west, serrate, 
 illimitable, marble -white with sudden snow-falls; but 
 no green thing grew in the little yards and open spaces 
 but what of that? The conical heaps of ore were 
 better worth while than clumps of lilacs. What need 
 had they of daisies in a land where the splash of ore in 
 a seam was subtler than moss, and ingots of gold more 
 glorious than poppies? These men, riding across the 
 hills, looked upon the earth, not to discover flora, but 
 
 Q I2Q 
 
Hesper 
 
 the " float " of golden ledges. To them a bed of crum 
 bled, white quartz was of greater beauty than lilies. 
 
 No one really lived in Sky-Town or Bozle they were 
 merely staying for a change of fortune. Strange to say, 
 the most permanent of all the homes were built by the 
 faro-dealers the most impermanent, one would say, 
 of the bankers of the town. For the most part, the 
 streets consisted of a disorderly flock of cabins, many 
 of them resembling the box-cars of a freight-train ; but 
 here and there a really picturesque log-house, with wide 
 eaves, stood beneath a clump of firs, whose rigid, hori 
 zontal branches added something fine and austere to 
 the picture. All paths fell into each other at last and 
 ended in the saloons, the ways to the grocery being less 
 deeply worn. Not that the camp was notably drunken, 
 for it was not; but when the day s work was done each 
 man sought diversion and the news. These commodi 
 ties he found at "The Thirst Parlor " and "The Golden 
 Horn." 
 
 Sky -Town was, therefore, the cupola of Sky-Camp. 
 It surveyed the whole field, dominated only by the 
 glittering crest of Mogalyon, which rose nearly four 
 thousand feet higher into the thin and fleckless air. 
 Bozle and Hoffman and Indian Creek and Eureka and 
 a half-dozen other villages lay below. 
 
 As a mining-camp, Sky-Town had no fellow in the 
 world. It had no canons, no picturesque grouping of 
 rocks and trees. It rose to the regions of clouds, and 
 yet it had no streams, not even springs, and at times 
 men suffered for lack of water to drink. It disordered 
 all previous ideas of mines and prospecting ground, yet 
 each day it amazed even the most sanguine by its out* 
 put of ore. 
 
 130 
 
Raymond Enters Sky-Town 
 
 The old Calif ornian, the veterans from Africa and 
 Australia, enjoyed no more favor than those who came 
 into it straight from the ranch. Seemingly, it was 
 everybody s game, with no distinction to the very wise 
 and no discrimination against the foolish. The highest 
 rules of mining were made of little account, every prec 
 edent seemed torn and cast away. 
 
 This was the town, the camp, towards which Ray 
 mond had been gazing in longing and irresolution 
 for two years, and to which he directed his steps as 
 soon as he was able to walk with something of his old- 
 time vigor. The peak represented to him a chance to 
 rise out of his slough. It was a hope, a possibility, an 
 opportunity to begin the new life which some change in 
 his heart now demanded of him. He was done with 
 small things, with trivial affairs. Henceforth he re 
 solved to live largely to retrieve himself in the eyes of 
 those who loved him. 
 
 "In such a camp," he reasoned, "my luck is as good 
 as any other man s." 
 
 For a week he did nothing but stroll slowly up and 
 down the streets of Bozle, studying his surroundings, 
 listening to all that was said, and asking searching ques 
 tions of every man who seemed to know anything of 
 mining matters. The altitude at first troubled him 
 greatly, and to walk up the slightest incline gave him 
 keen pain. Every air-passage distended rigidly, ached 
 with fatigue. Deep breathing was especially painful 
 to him because of his wound ; but he ate well and slept 
 well, and day by day his strength and native resolution 
 expanded within him, and he began to definitely seek 
 a place whereon to try his hands at labor. 
 
 One night, as he sat toasting his shins before the big 
 
Hesper 
 
 fire in the hotel, he became immensely interested in the 
 grand physical proportions and easy, unstudied grace 
 of a middle-aged miner who stood with his back to the 
 fire replying to the rapid questions of a young reporter 
 whose head was bent absorbedly above his note-book 
 and pencil. The prospector satisfied every requisite 
 of a mountaineer. His massive head, covered with 
 grizzled hair, his handsome, weather-beaten, smiling 
 face, his worn, laced boots, spattered with mud, his 
 rusty-brown jacket, and his broad hat, worn with care 
 less yet unfailing grace, made him easily the most pict 
 uresque figure in the room ; and when some one clapped 
 him on the back and called out, "Hello, Kelly!" Ray 
 mond realized, with a pleasant warming of the heart, 
 that he was looking upon Rocky Mountain Kelly, who 
 knew the ranges of the West as intimately as the lines 
 on the palm of his hand. 
 
 Seeking opportunity, he touched the big man on the 
 shoulder. "Are you Matthew Kelly?" 
 
 Kelly turned his keen, gray eyes on his questioner. 
 "I am, sir. What can I do for ye?" 
 
 " I ve heard you re a good-natured man," began Ray 
 mond. 
 
 Kelly slid his hand into his pocket. "How much 
 is it?" 
 
 Raymond laughed. "Do I look like that?" 
 
 "You look like a sick man," replied Kelly, scrutiniz 
 ing him. "And a hungry man." 
 
 "I m neither," Raymond smilingly replied. "I ve 
 just eaten the supper they serve here, and I m fairly 
 comfortable; but I want to ask your advice about a 
 business matter. If you had a little money and wanted 
 to break into mining, what would you do?" 
 
 132 
 
Raymond Enters Sky-Town 
 
 "Take out a lease," answered Kelly, promptly. 
 
 "Do you know of a promising property to lease?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "Will you show it to me?" 
 
 "I will." 
 
 Raymond was amused by the crisp succinctness of 
 these replies. It was plain that the prospector was 
 sizing him up, and favorably. 
 
 Kelly indicated a chair. "Sit down, man; ye look 
 like a citizen with a lung faded." 
 
 Raymond took a seat and Kelly drew up another, a 
 little facing him, and began to question in Ms turn. 
 
 "Where are ye from?" 
 
 " I m a rancher from the plains." 
 
 "And ye want to mine?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "It s ninety-nine chances to one ye lose y r wad. 
 
 "I know it." 
 
 "Have ye a wife?" 
 
 "I have not." 
 
 "Any one dependin on ye?" 
 
 "No one." 
 
 Kelly relaxed, and his eyes began to gleam fnendhly. 
 "Very well, then, I consent to rob ye. I m the owner 
 of one mine into which I ve put me last dollar, but 
 know a dandy proposition which I d like to display. 
 I ll take ye with me over the hills when ye re a litt 
 better acquainted with me; and when ye ve seen the 
 mine we ll talk the terms of partnership. The banke 
 all know me, and the faro-dealers likewise the more 
 shame to me." A smile of singular charm curved his 
 handsome lips. "But never mind that Matt 
 never tuck advantage of any man, and that, I think, 
 
 133 
 
Hesper 
 
 ye ll find me neighbors agreed upon. I ll not say I like 
 the looks of ye that would sound like blarney the 
 truth bein I m seekin a partner; but in a day or two 
 I ll lay me scheme before ye." 
 
 Putting aside business, they talked of their personal 
 affairs, Raymond guardedly, Kelly with entire freedom 
 and some humor. "I m no Dutchman," he said, 
 "much as ye might think it from me accint. Frugality 
 is not one of me strong points, as Nora, me little wife, 
 can tell ye. Three times I ve made a little stake, and 
 lost it through me own foolishness; but this time I m 
 seeking a partner who can kape a grip on me elbow 
 when I stand before the red spots on a faro-table. Ye 
 do not look like a drinkin man, and by yer manner 
 of speech ye can read and write. I nade a man like 
 that not of me own kind. But there, we ll lave all 
 that till to-morrow." 
 
 He seemed to know every mining-camp from Chi 
 huahua to the Kootenai Lakes. He had struck a lead 
 in the Savage Basin, and lost it in the Red Mountain 
 Valley. He had retrieved himself at Creede, only to 
 "blow his little wad into the game" at Sylvanite. He 
 was married, and had two little boys, for whom he was 
 now living. " Since Nora came," he said, with tender 
 ness, "I drink no more; but gambling is in me blood. 
 I play no more with cards or dice, but with lodes and 
 shafts. I m always taking on new chances. I load 
 meself up with good things till me back is broke 
 and me hands fall empty." 
 
 There was something winning in the humorous glance 
 of his big, gray eyes, and Raymond sat with him long. 
 His vast experience, his indomitable good-nature, his 
 physical pride, all appealed to the rancher with such 
 
 134 
 
Raymond Enters Sky-Town 
 
 power that he left him with a distinct exaltation 
 "Here is the man to help me make my fortune, and 
 I can be guide to him," he added, and he went to sleep 
 that night with greater confidence in his future than 
 at any time since taking Barnett s ranch. He set his 
 teeth hard in the determination to win, and though he 
 had put Ann quite out of his plans for the future, she 
 remained an inspiration and a lure. 
 
 His feeling of confidence in Kelly was deepened by his 
 ride with him next day. First of all, the big miner 
 could sit a horse with easy grace, and that confirmed 
 what he had said concerning his past life. Then, too, 
 his eyes were clear and keen, untouched of gluttony or 
 intemperance in drink. He strode a powerful bay 
 horse, and his saddle, though worn, was of the best 
 model and marked in Mexican silver. In everything 
 he did, Matt Kelly satisfied the eye. He was effective. 
 
 Turning from the gulch road, he led the way up 
 the side of Pine Mountain, along a trail which braided 
 itself upon a grassy slope like a purple-brown ribbon. 
 The air was keen, the sky a fleckless blue hemisphere. 
 Far away to the west the great central range rose mar 
 ble-white, and above the dark-green summit of pine 
 loomed the yellow- white, rounded mass of Mogalyon. 
 Raymond s blood leaped with the joy of it, and with a 
 sense that his feet were set at last on the road to fortune. 
 
 All about him the miners were climbing, each his 
 -special way, swinging a tin bucket which sparkled like 
 glass in the morning sun. Great wains loaded with ore 
 rolled creaking on their downward course, while others 
 of their kind, piled high with lumber and machinery, 
 crawled slowly up the curving roads. On every side 
 -men were tunnelling into the hill-sides, trenching in 
 
 135 
 
Hesper 
 
 gullies, and toiling at windlasses whose joints cried out 
 resoundingly as the heavy ore-boxes rose. The whole 
 scene set forth buoyant activity and hope. Each man 
 had either struck ore or hoped to do so at any moment. 
 
 Many of the miners knew Kelly, and stopped him to 
 show their ore and ask his opinion. To each one he 
 was frank and kindly, but careful not to raise undue 
 expectations. Once they passed a couple of men 
 " witching " for their vein. One of them, with a forked 
 willow withe in his outstretched palms, was ambling to 
 and fro, his eyes fixed upon the upright end of the stick. 
 Kelly, with an oily chuckle, called out: "Boys, are ye 
 in need o drinkin water? I see ye witchin for a well." 
 
 The necromancer paid no manner of attention, but 
 his companion looked up with a broad grin. 
 
 " I don t go a cent on the darn thing myself," he ex 
 plained. 
 
 The conjurer stopped, and, planting his foot firmly 
 on a big bowlder, said, with conviction, "It s right 
 under here." 
 
 " Good-luck to ye," called Kelly, over his horse s tail. 
 "And when ye find it, lave no man credit but y rself." 
 
 As they rose, Raymond began to comprehend the dis 
 trict. It was a group of hills semi-detached from 
 Mogalyon and forming his raised right shoulder. To 
 the west six distinctive but distant ranges of mountains 
 rose, glittering with snow, blued by hundreds of miles 
 of atmosphere. To the east the lesser heights of the 
 Rampart Range shut off the view of the plain. To 
 the north lay a small, parklike valley. To the south a 
 series of canons cutting deep into the ever-diminishing 
 hills. 
 
 Here and there on the slope a tall and shapeless shaft- 
 136 
 
Raymond Enters Sky-Town 
 
 house rose, with heaps of orange and blue-gray refuse 
 rock close beside it. The whole camp was as yet dis 
 organized, formless, and debatable. Not one in a hun 
 dred of the mines was a paying property, all the others 
 were mere prospects. 
 
 As they left Baldy and turned to climb Pine Moun 
 tain, the dwellings thickened. They were nearly all built 
 of the smooth, straight trunks of the aspen, but near 
 er the summit were of fir, and a few of them stood in 
 picturesque nooks amid the rocks. Towards one of 
 these, more homelike than the others, Kelly directed 
 his horse, and as he neared the door a couple of lusty, 
 yellow-haired boys of six or seven years of age came 
 bounding out to meet him. 
 
 " Hello, nuggets!" he called, and turned to Raymond 
 with a proud look on his face. " Oh, the lungs of them ! 
 This altitude makes no difference wid their diviltry. 
 They race and howl the whole day long. Aisy now," 
 he said, warningly, as they began to swarm up his legs 
 like wild-cats. "Aisy now; ye 11 sile me boots." 
 
 When they were seated, one behind and one before, 
 Kelly turned again with comical grin. "Negotiations 
 is suspended ; three times around the house I go. " And 
 so, while Raymond waited, the indulgent giant made 
 three circuits of the house with his shouting sons. 
 
 " Now, if ye ll light off, Robert, I will introduce you 
 to me superior officer." 
 
 Mrs. Kelly was unexpectedly lady-like, small, and 
 very pretty, with a skin that no wind could tan, and her 
 great, wistful, pathetic, gray eyes appealed to Ray 
 mond with instant power. She greeted him cordially, 
 and, while Kelly took the horses to the corral, he en 
 tered at her invitation. Her voice was as charming as 
 
 137 
 
Hesper 
 
 her pale face and hair of burnished gold, and the young 
 fellow looked upon her in surprise. 
 
 "How do you like living so high in the world?" he 
 asked, as he took a seat in the tiny little living-room. 
 
 "Not very well. The air is so thin up here." 
 
 " It is thin. I can hardly walk a block even down in 
 the Creek How am I to do any work?" he asked 
 of Kelly, as he entered a few moments later. 
 
 Kelly laughed. "Ye ll develop lungs like a bull 
 frog. Look at me!" and he struck his huge chest a 
 resounding blow. 
 
 "You don t look very well, sir," Mrs. Kelly said to 
 Raymond. 
 
 "I m not very well, but I m going to tear up the sod 
 just the same. Your husband is to show me how." 
 
 "Matt can find gold easy enough, but he can t keep 
 it." 
 
 "I ve confessed as much, Nora, me girl, and if Ray 
 mond can help me on that score, I ll put him in the way 
 of makin his pile. Can ye walk a few rods? If so, I ll 
 show ye the mine and the chance." 
 
 "Certainly. I m far from being a one-lunger yet." 
 
 The two men walked round the little grove of firs to 
 the west, and came upon some men busy with a very 
 small upright engine hoisting ore from a shaft. 
 
 "Here," said Kelly, "is where we tap the river of 
 life. This is my own mine, but the wan I advise ye 
 to take is that just beyond. I have an offer for me 
 own prospect, but I shall not take it. If ye are agree 
 able, we ll lease the Last Dollar together, and work 
 it to the limit, for I m satisfied its vein is the same as 
 me own, which will keep; but if I strike ore, Curran, 
 who owns the Last Dollar, will jump his price to the 
 
 138 
 
Raymond Enters Sky-Town 
 
 moon. Our lay is to bond and lease his mine, move my 
 machinery over to his old shaft, and work like mad to 
 open up ore to buy in the property. Ye see, no one 
 has touched pay ore in this quarter, and Curran is anx 
 ious to sell. He offers it at fifteen thousand dollars. I 
 believe we can open a vein that 11 pay fer it in less than 
 six months. Will ye go in with me?" 
 
 "I will." 
 
 As their hands met, their hearts warmed to each 
 other. Kelly removed his hat, and was almost solemn 
 as he said, slowly: "This makes us both. Now let s go 
 eat." 
 
 The Kelly home was as suited to its surroundings as 
 a Swiss chalet. It had the dirt roof, the widely pro 
 jecting eaves, and the Southern porch of a mountain 
 cabin, and its latch-string and battened door were in 
 keeping only the windows, with their machine-made 
 frames, were out of key. There were two small bed 
 rooms, a living-room, which served also for dining- 
 room, and a tiny kitchen; and yet it produced on Ray 
 mond s mind the most charming effect of unhesitating 
 hospitality and homeliness. This was due as much to 
 the charm of Mrs. Kelly s manner as to the deep-voiced, 
 cordial invitation of the host himself. There was no 
 lock on their door and no bar to their warm hearts. 
 
 But Raymond saw what Matt s loving eyes could not 
 discern Nora was overworked and losing heart. In 
 spite of her ready smile and cordial seconding of her 
 husband s invitation, "Ye must make your home with 
 us," she was not strong enough to take on this extra 
 care, and he resolved to stay in Bozle till he could 
 build a cabin for himself. 
 
 As they finished their meal he said: "Now, Mrs. 
 139 
 
Hesper 
 
 Kelly, you must let me help you about the dishes; 
 please don t object. I won t listen to a word you say. 
 I used to be a cook in a cow-camp, and I m handy as a 
 widower. If I can pull on a winze, I can help keep 
 house." 
 
 In the end he had his way, and she sat with tears in 
 her eyes and a smile on her lips while he washed and 
 wiped the dishes. 
 
 "Matt Kelly, you ought to be ashamed of yourself," 
 said she, in admiration of Raymond s deftness. 
 
 "Should I be washin dishes?" queried Matt, lifting 
 one big fist in the air. "Sure you ll need something 
 better than iron-stone chiny to withstand me. But 
 wait you; in six months you ll have a hired girl in every 
 corner of the room and a nickel-plated fly-trap . Sure ! 
 
 "Ye always were rich in fine words, Matt," she re 
 plied, with a gurgle of laughter. 
 
Jack Munro 
 
 ETE in the afternoon, after they had talked long 
 at the mouth of the mine, Kelly and Raymond 
 left the house and walked out along the ridge towards 
 Sky-Town, which was built where the ground rose from 
 a pine-clad plateau to a rocky point overlooking the 
 valley to the north. It had but one business street, 
 which repeated in unpainted lumber all the shoddy 
 architecture of a prairie town, whose flaming battle 
 ments pretend to a dignity which they do not fulfil. 
 So far the place was without distinction ; but here and 
 there, even along Saloon Row, the original dwellings of 
 the camp stood in testimony of the skilled handiwork 
 of the pioneer. They were simple, dignified, signifi 
 cant of the life which admitted no shams. 
 
 The town, in short, set forth in its physical features 
 the almost unexampled mixture of hunters, trappers, 
 cow-boys, prairie-dwellers, slavish miners, and gam 
 blers which made up its population. As the beauti 
 fully built log-cabins (snugly set beneath clumps of 
 trees) alternated with the most slovenly shapeless 
 shacks, so the drunken, spiritless tramp set his elbow to 
 that of heroic prospectors like Kelly, and women of 
 the unnameable sort called across the street to honest 
 working- women wives of newly arrived mechanics. 
 
 141 
 
Hesper 
 
 The chief business of the street was gambling. Next 
 in order stood rum-selling, with assaying a close third. 
 Exhibits of ore filled every window, and before these 
 exhibits groups of greenhorns slowly moved. Nothing 
 was ignored, every speck of "color," each new piece of 
 rock was scanned by these tenderfeet, who roamed all 
 day from door to door, and especially swarmed between 
 supper-time and sundown. For all their trust, their 
 imagination, they had no eyes for the transcendent 
 sunsets which swept over the sky and the valley, night 
 by night, with a flare of color that alarmed, like the 
 sound of God s own trumpet. From the hill to the 
 west, or the lookout to the east, sensitive souls 
 bowed in humility before the passing of the day, 
 so varied was the color, so majestic the spread of 
 earth. 
 
 The men who sat at dice or lounged at the drinking- 
 bars were not of those who weigh the gold of evening 
 nor greet the crimson banners of the morning with song; 
 but to Raymond these mountain - scenes were over 
 awing. He fell silent before the supremacy of the sun 
 set. He lingered now in the path, and Kelly, receiving 
 no answer to a question, looked up, understood the ex 
 altation in his partner s face, and checked the word 
 upon his lips. 
 
 At last Raymond said, " I thought the plains mighty, 
 but that scene is mightier." 
 
 " I put me cabin so that Nora and the boys could see 
 it," replied Kelly, simply, and they resumed their walk 
 in silence. 
 
 The street was swarming as usual, but the talk was 
 directed, for the moment, to one topic. A convention 
 of miners had been called to meet in the Golden Horn 
 
 142 
 
Jack Munro 
 
 saloon, and several who knew Kelly called out, "Hello, 
 Matt, we re going to make you president of the 
 union." 
 
 Kelly smiled as if all this were a joke, and introduced 
 his friend and partner. Raymond shook hands with 
 each man heartily, well knowing that if he were to re 
 main in the camp, it would be well to be on friendly 
 terms with all. Following the lead of others, they were 
 soon wedged into a throng which filled the largest sa 
 loon of the street a huge gambling establishment 
 called the Golden Horn, of which Marvin Hanley, a 
 celebrated gambler, was proprietor. 
 
 For the first time since the opening of the Golden 
 Horn s door, gambling was suspended and the machines 
 of chance set aside. The proprietor, a pale man with 
 close-clipped, yellow hair a man who looked like a 
 Catholic priest mounted a box at one end of the room 
 and called the house to order. "You know the pur 
 poses of this meeting," said he. "Now, who will you 
 have for chairman?" 
 
 "Kelly! Kelly!" cried a dozen men. 
 
 "Munro!" shouted those farther up the hall. 
 
 "Moved and seconded that Munro be chairman," 
 said the smooth-faced man. "All who favor say 
 Ay !" A shout of many mingled voices answered. 
 "Opposed, No ." Only an obvious minority voted 
 "No." "Munro is elected. Jack, get up here!" 
 
 As the new chairman s head rose above the throng, 
 Raymond experienced a shock. I know that man," 
 he said, under his breath. Munro was a clean-shaven, 
 boyish fellow, with black hair pushed back from his 
 face. He was young and handsome, and began speak 
 ing in a clear, musical, and most persuasive voice. It 
 
Hesper 
 
 was plain he was on good terms with his audience and 
 quite certain of himself. 
 
 "I don t know why I should be made chairman of 
 this meeting," he said, after some local allusions, un 
 less it be to open the way for the real speaker and 
 man of the hour the man who has a message for 
 y OU Tom Larned of Dead Pine." Cheers for Larned 
 followed. Munro went on. "I m a prospector, not a 
 miner." A ripple of laughter arose. " But, of course, 
 my sympathies are always with the heavy-handed 
 sons of toil, and I m glad to know Sky -Town is to 
 have a union. I ll do all I can to further it. Brain 
 and brawn should be united in this business." He 
 raised one white, handsome, supple hand in the air. 
 " I furnish the brawn " again a roar of laughter burst 
 forth, for there was a subtle twist in the speaker s voice 
 which took hold of his audience "and the brains will 
 be furnished by Brother Larned, who will now address 
 you, while I take a drink. Brother Larned, it s up 
 to you." 
 
 While the crowd applauded, Larned climbed to his 
 place and began to speak. He was a short man, with 
 a forward thrust of the chin. His high forehead was 
 smooth and pale, its calm lines in vivid contrast with 
 his burning blue eyes. Plainly he was a vigorous, in 
 tense, and bigoted thinker, a man of far-seeing intelli 
 gence, but with narrow interests. His voice, harsh 
 and penetrating, filled the hall with an effect of clamor, 
 and his words were like pebbles from a sling. He 
 ignored all of Munro s joking, and thrust his way into 
 the middle of his contention. 
 
 "I hear some men say we don t need a union here, 
 but I tell you you do. You re going the way of all 
 
 144 
 
Jack Munro 
 
 mining-camps. As soon as the claims are all taken, 
 consolidations begin, and wages will be cut. A big 
 mining-camp must be run by union labor. Punkin 
 rollers and prospectors don t maintain a big, perma 
 nent, deep mine. The work has got to be done by men 
 bred to the mine, and they must be organized; if 
 they re not, they ll work for nothing. This camp is 
 about to decline " 
 
 "No! No!" shouted a dozen men. 
 
 The speaker held up a hand. "Wait a moment! I 
 mean to say that this swarm of easy-going tramps 
 scratching the surface, looking for a mine, will begin to 
 melt away it is already melting away. These men 
 on horseback, these grub-stakers, these burro-punchers, 
 will not dig gold for other men." ["You bet they 
 won t," shouted a big-lunged fellow.] "The real miners 
 have got to get underground and stay there! You un 
 derstand? Stay there! And they will want some 
 body on top to look after their interests. They ll 
 want a union, if you don t; but, I tell you, you short- 
 term miners will want a union before February is 
 out." 
 
 In such wise he argued, and even Kelly admitted the 
 truth of what he said. Others spoke, grizzled old fel 
 lows from other districts, men who had given up all 
 hope of discovering a lead for themselves; men with 
 families to feed and educate, who had fallen to content 
 ment with a good wage and a steady job. But in some 
 of the speeches a note of bitterness towards Valley 
 Springs made itself heard. Sky-Town had begun to 
 hate the valley as the home of those who lived on the 
 labor of others, and some of those in the valley, as 
 Raymond well knew, expressed their contempt of those 
 
 10 14$ 
 
Hesper 
 
 who dwelt in the Sky by calling them red necks," in 
 allusion to their tanned or drink-inflamed faces. 
 
 These citizens of Sky-Town (who suffered little on 
 account of sickness) retaliated by calling their neigh 
 bors of the Springs "dudes" and "one-lungers," in al 
 lusion to their having settled in the West for the sake 
 of their broken health. Politically the two towns were 
 already as wide apart as the poles, and references to 
 this division were numerous during the evening. The 
 county was divided against itself and hopelessly em 
 bittered, and Bozle was eager to be free from the 
 valley. 
 
 Kelly, weary of the wrangle, touched Raymond on 
 the arm, and turned towards the door. A big miner, 
 detecting this movement, shouted out, "Here s Kelly 
 taking a sneak!" 
 
 Instantly Kelly was seized, a couple of brawny fel 
 lows lifted him to the bar, and so, towering over them 
 all, the big prospector took off his hat and, with smiling 
 composure, said: "Boys, I wish ye well. I make no 
 objection to the plans; but why should I, an old burro- 
 puncher, bother me head about a union? No one is 
 cuttin* my wages. No one is shortening my hours of 
 labor. Besides" and here he broke into a broad 
 smile "I m an employer of labor meself." 
 
 "Down wid im!" shouted Munro. 
 
 "To what extent?" asked another. 
 
 "To the whole of five men not countin meself, " 
 answered Kelly, with a roguish grin. "And I m a 
 har-r-rd master." 
 
 A roar of laughter responded to his jest. 
 
 "Down with the oppressor of labor!" shouted Munro. 
 "Off with shead!" 
 
 146 
 
Jack Munro 
 
 Kelly playfully struck at him with his hat, and then 
 became serious. " Now, boys, let me tell you. I hon 
 estly don t think you need a union. The landscape is 
 wide up here ; there s a chance for every man in the hills. 
 I believe in the big, free land. When any man tries to 
 corner me, I take me mule and strike out into the wild 
 country. I have no fear of the Red Star Mining Com 
 pany, nor any other, and you needn t. I do not op 
 pose the union mind what I m sayin ; it s well enough 
 for those who believe in it, and nade it, but lave me 
 out of it. The Kelly s will take care of themselves." 
 
 Larned was on his box before Kelly had time to 
 get down, and, levelling his ringer at him, cried out, 
 sharply : 
 
 "That s all well and good for you, Matt Kelly, a 
 -skilled prospector, a man with a paying mine already, 
 but how about these men who have no skill in finding 
 gold, who are working for money to start themselves a 
 home. How about those who are hoping to bring their 
 families here and clothe and educate them? They are 
 not so fond of all out-doors. They haven t even the 
 mule and the grub-stake. They are holed-up five hun 
 dred or a thousand feet underground, working for a 
 company, and this company, I tell you, has no regard 
 for its hands. Their interests are not those of the 
 miner. You may blarney all you like, but the miners 
 must look out for their own interests, just as the em 
 ployer hires lawyers and agents to look after his." 
 
 "Very true," replied Kelly, calmly. "I m not ob- 
 jectin to that. Organize and take care o labor s in 
 terests, but don t ask me, an employer of labor, to 
 throw up me hat when you vote to raise the wages of 
 me five men. I ll fight scandalous" 
 
 147 
 
Hesper 
 
 The crowd was amused. Plainly it did not take the 
 contention seriously, and wished it to go on. 
 
 "Go it, Kelly! You have him on three legs and 
 goin !" shouted a wag, and, amid the laughter that fol 
 lowed, Kelly leaped down and made for the door. 
 
 When Raymond overtook him again he was in talk 
 with a lean young fellow with large, bright eyes, who 
 had the tone of an old and bitterly disappointed man. 
 He was saying: 
 
 " A union ! Of course we ll have a union. The glory 
 of Ichabod is departed. I saw a fist-fight in the Creek 
 to-day. This camp is on the decline right now. We ll 
 have an ordinance against carrying guns next. Then 
 I emigrate." 
 
 Kelly introduced him. "Rob, shake hands with 
 Mr. Dolan, correspondent of the Valley Springs News. 
 Jim, this is my new partner." 
 
 Dolan, as he clasped hands, remarked, "You ve met 
 up with a good man a man that won t do ye and 
 there aren t many like him in this town." 
 
 "Ye must not mind what Dolan says, Rob," re 
 marked Kelly. "He s always kickin like a bay steer 
 in harness. Nothin suits him." 
 
 "Well, much obliged, Matt," said the reporter. "Mr. 
 Raymond, I ll see you again." 
 
 Only long after did it come to Raymond s mind that 
 Kelly had been giving Dolan a note concerning their 
 plans, and that his whereabouts would be at once made 
 known to Valley Springs and to Louis. 
 
 "Who is this man Munro?" asked Raymond, as they 
 left the reporter and started for home. 
 
 "He s a devil-may-care chap from Red Cliff. He 
 pretends to be a miner, and is a partner with an old 
 
 148 
 
Jack Munro 
 
 fellow on the north side o the hill, but he s workin OF 
 Hanley lookout for the roulette-wheel. The boys all 
 think a heap of him. They say he always gives em a 
 square deal." 
 
 "Does he?" 
 
 "I think so. I never heard to the contrary." 
 
 " Lamed was right about the union," said Raymond. 
 "The big owners in the Springs are sending East for 
 their miners. They know that men like you and me 
 will not do their deep work for them. He s right, too, 
 in saying these cow-boys and farm-hands from the 
 States won t make miners. They don t intend to work 
 underground. We ll find ourselves left short some 
 morning, if we depend on these fellows, who can hit the 
 trail at ten minutes notice." 
 
 "Sure thing," said Kelly. "This gettin under the 
 crust o the earth and livin there is unholy business 
 not for free men like ourselves. It s all goin to be 
 done by the Rooshians and the Dagoes." 
 
 " I didn t mean to say that a miner was a slave," re 
 plied Raymond. " I just meant that a man who is con 
 tent to swing a pick in a mine all his life must be born 
 and bred to it." 
 
 "Thank God, I was bred to the hills," exclaimed 
 Kelly, " and have no fear of the open! Me father was 
 a bog-trotter, but there must have been somethin live 
 stirrin at his heart, for he pulled out at twenty and 
 came to the hills of Idaho." 
 
 And in silence the two men looked abroad over the 
 valley towards the dim line of peaks faintly lit by the 
 big, silver-bright moon. 
 
 A sentence from Richter came into Raymond s mind: 
 4 In the presence of beauty, beneath the stars, men 
 
 149 
 
Hesper 
 
 think of love," and his heart ached with a sense of 
 loss. 
 
 Unconsciously, in spite of his attempt to put him 
 self away from her presence, Ann had come to dom 
 inate his musing hours. At thought of her he grew 
 resolute and hopeful, and, reaching forth a powerful 
 hand, grappled the air as if it were the throat of a 
 hitherto invincible opponent, and said, "I will win!" 
 He acknowledged that wealth had power to aid him. 
 "So long as I am unknown and poor and in disgrace 
 she can only consider me what I am a failure. Money 
 is a measure of value and wealth I must have first ; 
 then leisure and the higher life." 
 
 So while Kelly mused sombrely on the problems of 
 labor, his partner looked away at the moonlit peaks and 
 dreamed of one small woman s face. And with this 
 secret hope his hunger grew in power 
 
XI 
 
 Louis Finds Raymond 
 
 ON the second morning after his meeting with 
 Dolan, Raymond, riding down the trail towards 
 Bozle, discovered a small figure toiling towards him, 
 pausing often to rest. "It can t be Louis," he said, 
 "and yet there s something familiar in that walk. The 
 hat, too, is of exceeding cleanliness the kind he would 
 wear." A few moments later the climber stopped, 
 turned his back to the hill, and, with one hand resting 
 on his hip, looked away over the valley. 
 
 "It is Louis!" exclaimed Raymond. "And he s on 
 my trail." 
 
 When the boy, lifting his tired head, recognized the 
 rider, he uttered a fierce shout of joy. "Hah! I ve 
 found you! Sammy the Sleuth never fails. My ears 
 and whiskers! why don t you live in the moon? This 
 air is so thin I can t breathe" He fairly staggered 
 with weakness. 
 
 Raymond slid from his horse and put his arm 
 about the reeling lad. " When did you come to 
 camp?" 
 
 Louis leaned against his big friend. "Oh, I ve been 
 here a week. I knew you were here somewhere, but I 
 couldn t get track of you. Don was over here yester 
 day, but I dodged him, and he went back. I didn t 
 
Hesper 
 
 sign my own name on the register." He grinned slyly. 
 "See my boots aren t they right?" 
 
 Raymond looked down at the boy s small legs clothed 
 with miner s laced boots. "You believe in dressing 
 the part don t you? You are a kidlet." He laughed 
 at the boy s chapfallen look (for Louis detested being 
 called a boy), and added: "Well, what now? Does 
 your sister know where you are?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Raymond s whole expression changed. " Climb that 
 horse!" he said, sternly. "You re going back to town, 
 and you re going to send her a telegram at once." 
 
 The boy obeyed, stunned by the sudden disgust and 
 anger in his friend s face and voice. 
 
 As he led the horse down the hill, Raymond com 
 prehended something of the anxiety the runaway had 
 brought to Ann, and that he, indirectly, was the cause 
 of it, but at the door of the office he said, more gently: 
 "Now, younker, hop off. You re going to send word 
 to the folks that you re with me and safe." 
 
 "You re not going to drive me away?" 
 
 Raymond looked at him in silence. "No. I m go 
 ing to put you to work." 
 
 The boy s face threw off its shadow. " That s 
 bully! Now I m all right. Give me a pen." He 
 wrote : 
 
 "I have found Rob. We re all O. K. Don t worry. 
 
 "Louis." 
 
 As he handed it over he said, gayly, "Will that do?" 
 "That s satisfactory. Now rush it." 
 As they walked out, Raymond sternly asked: "Want 
 to stay with me, do you? Well, everybody works 
 
 152 
 
Louis Finds Raymond 
 
 where I live. We don t allow idlers. If you had some 
 thing to do, you d keep out o mischief." 
 
 Louis twisted, his small right arm. "I m ready for 
 anything." 
 
 "Got your outfit your whole kit?" 
 
 "I ve got one camera and my drawing materials." 
 
 "All right, I ll find something for you to fill up your 
 spare time with." 
 
 Raymond packed his hand-bags on the horse, and 
 together they set out up the trail. At first the lad ex 
 ulted and cried out like a blue-jay, but his breathing 
 grew labored as they rose, and at last Raymond turned. 
 " Now, sec here, Louis, this air is pretty thin till a fellow 
 gets used to it; you d better mount. You ll enjoy the 
 scenery better." 
 
 With a feeling that he was succumbing to an unman 
 ly weakness, Louis clambered to the horse s back and 
 perched among his possessions, while Raymond, strid 
 ing ahead, led the way up and up, till the whole world 
 seemed coming into view. "Oh, this is fine! Jupiter! 
 this is the place for me." 
 
 He was unfeignedly delighted with everything, with 
 the new shacks, with the slab tables and the plank 
 chairs, and with the liberal and smoking dinner which 
 Mrs. Kelly provided; but he drew a hissing breath of 
 admiration over the grand figure of old Matthew Kelly. 
 " Gee! but you are a wonder! I must do you." 
 
 Kelly was puzzled and a little embarrassed by this 
 outspoken admiration, and regarded Louis with defi 
 nite disfavor till he presented him with a pencil-draw 
 ing of the lads playing on the doorstep, and then he 
 said: "The Lord God has made a power o people that 
 the Kellys have not seen ; this is wan of them. Now 
 
Hesper 
 
 isn t that a wonder? He put the whole thing together 
 in five minutes." Thereafter he accepted the boy for 
 the cunning that lay in his fingers. 
 
 Raymond wrote that night to Ann, as formally as the 
 riot in his brain would permit : 
 
 " I planned to take myself out of your life as completely 
 as if I were dead, but Louis would not have it so. When 
 I met him on the hill to-day, and he told me how long he 
 had been from home, I determined to hustle him back to 
 the Springs, but he asked to stay a day or two, and here he 
 is. Will you trust him with me? He will tire of it here 
 by-and-by and go back to you of his own accord. Just 
 now he is mad over the life and the scenery. As for my 
 self, I am a new man, with new aspirations. They may 
 not seem very high to you, for I am striving now to ac 
 quire gold; but that is only a means to an end. There is 
 something else in the world for me to do. I don t know 
 what it is to be perhaps my care of this wonderful boy is 
 a part of it. At any rate, he is here, and not to be driven 
 away without great risk to him and deep pain to me. So, 
 unless you object, I shall keep him. Our life is rough, but 
 not contaminating. I will see that no harm comes to 
 him." 
 
 There was nothing more personal in the letter than 
 this, but Ann s heart warmed to the writer unaccount 
 ably. He was clean and manly that she must admit ; 
 and very much of a gentleman considering his daily 
 contact with gross men. And yet the thought of Louis 
 in a mining-camp troubled her. "I ought to go and 
 fetch him away," she said to Don. 
 
 " No ! No ! You remain here, and I will go over and 
 see the little scamp and bring him back if possible." 
 
 The next morning Raymond put into action a meas- 
 
Louis Finds Raymond 
 
 ure he had formulated during the night. He called 
 Louis to him, and together they ascended the "Look 
 out," as Kelly called the ledge back of his cabin. The 
 wind was keen as a brier, but the sun shone full, and, 
 sheltered by some low-growing firs, the man and boy 
 took seats on an overhanging rock and looked away 
 across the valley to the south. 
 
 "Isn t it magnificent!" breathed Louis. " It s grand 
 er than I ever imagined; but, oh, I long to see what lies 
 over that big range! That must be father s * Hes- 
 perean wall ; don t you think so? It makes me want 
 to fly like the eagle." 
 
 Raymond brought him to earth. "See here, lad, 
 I ve brought you up here to ask you a few questions." 
 Louis braced himself. "Fire away!" 
 "As I understand it, you and Ann are alone in the 
 world I mean you are closer to each other than to any 
 one else she s your best friend." 
 
 The boy sobered. "Yes, Ann s good to me." 
 "Well, now, she s taking a whole lot of trouble for 
 you, and you ought to meet her half-way. Don t you 
 think so? You oughtn t to go ricocheting off into the 
 hills like this without letting her know. Think how 
 she has worried over you for the past week." 
 
 Louis lips quivered. "I didn t intend to worry her, 
 but I hated it there, and I wanted to find you. I didn t 
 intend to stay so long." 
 
 "You ve given her a great deal of anxiety, my lad, 
 and that isn t right. You must go straight back to 
 her and apologize, and ask her permission to come back. 
 If she consents, then I ll make a place for you here." 
 "She won t consent. I d have to run away again; 
 and I d do it!" he added, defiantly. 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Well, that would be better than running off without 
 letting her know. Suppose something had happened 
 to her, or to you, while you were gone ? Did you think 
 of that?" 
 
 Tears were in the boy s eyes, and his sensitive face 
 was palpitant with feeling as he replied, " No, I didn t." 
 
 Raymond, after a pause, slowly resumed: "Now I 
 want to make a compact with you. If you ll go down 
 and see her, I will write a letter interceding for you, 
 and asking her to let you return." 
 
 The lad s face was suddenly illuminated. He threw 
 out his small palm. "I ll do it!" he cried out, and his 
 tone carried conviction. 
 
 Raymond continued. "You like me, and I like you. 
 You can t live in the Springs, and your sister can t live 
 here. So it seems that I must be your big brother, 
 and look after you. And hark ye! You must mind 
 what I say, or I ll take a birch to you." 
 
 This threat seemed not to appall the boy. "Can I 
 work in the mine?" 
 
 " No, you can t work in the mine, but I ll find some 
 thing on top for you to do. You must take care of 
 those lungs of yours for a while; but come, let s see 
 if we can t catch the stage." 
 
 "Oh, let me stay till to-morrow!" pleaded the boy. 
 "I don t want to go to-day. It s too beautiful to 
 miss." 
 
 Raymond reflected a moment . Very well , but y ou 11 
 want that stage-ride. It s one of the finest roads in the 
 mountains. You rattle down the canon to-morrow, 
 sure thing; remember that!" 
 
 Together they went down towards the mine where a 
 group of men were building a log -cabin. "Here is 
 
 156 
 
Louis Finds Raymond 
 
 where we are to live, provided your sister consents," 
 Raymond explained. " Now, throw off your coat, and 
 I ll find something for you to turn over." 
 
 Thereafter Louis had no care. He handled tools, 
 ran errands, and put his small palms to the rough logs 
 with complete absorption, pausing only now and then 
 to say, "Jupiter, but I m in luck! I never expected to 
 see a real log-house built." There was something in 
 the pungent odor of the timber, and in the sound of 
 the axes, which moved him something he could 
 neither understand nor measure. It was like the march 
 of a great poem. 
 
 Kelly was the master - builder, and the flash and 
 stroke of his axe, and his deft, yet unhurried, graceful 
 movements won the lad s profound admiration. He 
 was humble as a squirrel before men of that mould. 
 They represented the unattainable, the majesty of self- 
 poised, self-reliant, serene manhood. Altogether it was 
 a glorious day, one never to be forgotten. 
 
 Barnett came riding up the hill about sundown, and 
 immediately at sight of Louis began a jocose tirade. 
 "You scamp! You young flyaway! A nice inter 
 lude you ve given us. Ann hadn t slept a wink for a 
 week till she got your message yesterday. How long 
 have you been here?" 
 
 Raymond hastened to say, "I induced him to wire 
 as soon as he turned up." 
 
 "Had you been here all the time, you young rattle- 
 pate?" 
 
 Louis was not afraid of Barnett. "Yes, I was down 
 there looking for Rob." He pointed towards the 
 town of Bozle. 
 
 "Well, I m to bring you home instantly!" 
 157 
 
Hesper 
 
 Louis took shelter behind Raymond. " No, you don t. 
 Tell him, Rob." 
 
 Raymond winked at Barnett. " He s going to-mor 
 row, on a promise to me, Don. I ve made a bargain 
 with him. He can tell you about it on the way. 
 Moreover, he is going by stage. He s on honor." 
 
 When they were alone Barnett said: The most un 
 accountable of all things is the human heart. That boy 
 is crazy about you. Now, I like you, Rob, and I think 
 you re a fine figure of a man, but this boy considers you 
 something quite supernatural. He is willing to leave 
 his sister, the only real mother he ever had, and cleave 
 to you. You re in for it. I don t see how you can 
 shake him." 
 
 "It s a big responsibility," replied Raymond, grave 
 ly, "and I would shirk it if I could, but for the present 
 I can only hope his enthusiasm will flag. He ll get 
 tired of it up here after a week or two." 
 
 "I hope so, for Ann s sake. She was as near upset 
 as I ever saw her. Did he tell you that the rupture 
 came from his idea that she had mistreated you?" 
 
 Raymond faced him. "No; not a word." 
 
 "Well, Jeannette heard him shout something of that 
 kind. Ann don t want to use force to control the 
 boy, but now that he has tasted wild West freedom, 
 he won t listen to any word of return, and as she hates 
 the West and all it contains barring the Barnett s, 
 whom she tolerates I see nothing but squalls coming. 
 She wanted to scuttle up and get the boy herself, but I 
 headed her off. By-the-way, how s the lung?" 
 
 "Almost as good as ever." 
 
 "Your constitution is a wonder. And the mining 
 deal?" 
 
 158 
 
Louis Finds Raymond 
 
 "Very promising." 
 
 In the talk that followed, Raymond learned for the 
 first time of the proposed consolidation of the Red 
 Star with two or three other heavy properties, and 
 they fell into a discussion of the camp. 
 
 "If I had my way," said Barnett, "I d have this 
 meddling idiot Larned thrown out of the camp. What 
 business has he here ? He s a rank outsider, any 
 way, and this union is a breeder of war." 
 
 Raymond raised a warning hand. "Careful, Don! 
 It don t do for you to say such things up here. This 
 union has come to stay, and you who employ labor will 
 do well to treat it with a certain measure of respect." 
 
 "But you re an employer, too!" 
 
 Raymond laughed. "Oh, my little crew don t 
 Count ; they re all prospectors or cow-boys, and, besides, 
 I work right with them, and am classed as a working 
 miner. Your case is different." 
 
 Barnett went away calmly superior, but came back 
 from a conference with Mackay, the superintendent of 
 the Red Star, less haughty of manner but distinctly 
 more acrid of tone. "Mackay says this confounded 
 union is growing rapidly, and that practically every 
 incoming miner joins at once. I told him to nip the 
 thing in the bud, and he has begun to formulate a 
 plan to do so." 
 
 "Wait a year," warned Raymond. "Wait till I pay 
 for my irtine." Then added, soberly: "And don t you 
 go about saying rash things. You re not dressed for 
 it. You look like one of those English dudes the 
 men hate so." 
 
 Barnett s sense of humor returned. "I suppose my 
 riding-breeches do distinguish me." 
 
 159 
 
Hesper 
 
 " I wouldn t wear them through the street on Satur 
 day night for a thousand dollars." 
 
 That night, as Louis sat before the fire in the centre 
 of the unfinished cabin, his face shone with joy, and 
 the heart of the tall miner grew very tender towards 
 him. It was good to have this gay young brother of 
 his love to keep him company. A new sensation arose 
 from having some one to plan for and to protect. 
 
 The dreaming lad, outstretched on a pile of blankets, 
 with his hands under his head and his small feet, 
 clothed in moccasins, extended to the blaze, sud 
 denly turned and said: "Rob, this is the kind of life 
 for me. Wouldn t father have liked this? I d be 
 perfectly happy if I didn t have to pack off down 
 the hill to-morrow. Why couldn t Ann come up 
 here?" 
 
 A flash of warm blood crossed the man s face at the 
 thought. "I wish she could!" he answered, quickly; 
 then added, " But this is no place for her." 
 
 It certainly was not, for at the moment the cabin was 
 merely a stockade of freshly hewn, pungent pine-boles, 
 without roof or floor; though the promise of a goodly 
 shelter spoke from the ample plan. With the stirring 
 of some subtle, nest -making instinct, Raymond began 
 to wonder how it could be made more acceptable to 
 Ann. He imagined big settees here and a fireplace 
 there. "We must have some rugs," he ended. 
 
 When the boy spoke again, his voice was grave and 
 sweet. "If you won t tell, I ll let you into a secret, 
 Rob. I m going to have father s journal printed, and 
 I m going to make the illustrations for it. You mustn t 
 tell Ann. She don t know a word about it." 
 
 Raymond looked upon the frail form and speaking 
 
 1 60 
 
Louis Finds Raymond 
 
 face flushed with the fire - light glow and wondered 
 whether Philip Rupert s emotional concept of the West 
 had not by some mysterious alchemy entered into his 
 son s brain, making him the imaginative, mountain- 
 loving poet-soul that he was ; as widely differentiated 
 from his sister as the flame of the ruby is from the 
 frosty light of the diamond. When he spoke it was to 
 say, hesitatingly, "Maybe, by-and-by, when we get our 
 cabin fixed up, we will ask your sister and Mrs. Barnett 
 to come up and visit us." 
 
 Louis started up. "Oh, will you? If Ann were 
 here, I would never want to go back East again never! 
 I could live here always." 
 
 How about the wild animals ? There are no griz 
 zlies here." 
 
 "Oh, I m going to do a series of mining sketches 
 first," he said, with easy shift of interest. 
 
 A foot outside disturbed Raymond, and a man s 
 voice called, "Is Rob Raymond here?" 
 
 In the unfinished doorway stood a graceful young 
 fellow in a white sombrero and a neatly fitting, dark 
 suit. "Jack Munro!" exclaimed Raymond, and they 
 shook hands. "Sit down. This is a boy friend of 
 mine from the Springs," he said, indicating Louis. 
 " What can I do for you?" 
 
 "Nothing, old man; just lined you out to-day. I 
 heard that a man named Raymond had taken a lease 
 with Kelly, but I didn t know it was you till I saw you 
 with Barnett to-day. Well, this is wonderful! Where 
 you from ? What have you been doing since we grad 
 uated?" There was something in his voice that eluded 
 Louis. Raymond gave Munro a warning glance. 
 
 "Oh, a little of everything cattle-ranching, hunt- 
 " 161 
 
Hesper 
 
 ing, mining. I saw you last night in Hanley s sa 
 loon." 
 
 "Why didn t you speak up?" 
 
 Raymond hesitated. " I didn t know whether you " 
 
 "Oh, rats! I m not one to dodge. What did getting 
 fired amount to, anyway? I was ready to leave." 
 
 Raymond repeated his warning sign. "Have you 
 been back home?" 
 
 Munro smiled broadly. "You bet! I went back 
 and swelled around in high feathers told my side of 
 the story understand? I didn t let the institution get 
 the drop on me; but, see here, come up to the saloon; 
 I want to talk things over with you. The boys are 
 bound to make me take a hand in this union." He 
 winked and laughed in a sly way. "I stand in with 
 the lads these days. First thing you know, I ll break 
 into Congress as the miners friend. But come out 
 for a walk. I want to talk old times." 
 
 " Can t do it now, Jack; but come down again. Louis 
 is going back to-morrow, and I ll be alone for a day or 
 two, and then we can talk freely." 
 
 "All right. There are a whole lot of things I want 
 to turn over. By the Lord! this is wonderful our 
 meeting up here." He was reluctant to go. "You 
 bring up the old days. Well, so long." 
 
 When Raymond returned to his seat his face was 
 grave and his eyes deeply reflective. 
 
 Louis was much interested in the stranger. "Who 
 was that, Rob?" 
 
 "A chap I used to know. He s a lookout up in one 
 of the saloons. Do you know what a lookout is?" 
 
 Louis laughed. "Do I? What was I doing all last 
 week?" 
 
 162 
 
Louis Finds Raymond 
 
 Raymond looked at him in mock sternness. "You 
 young scalawag! Did you lose any money?" 
 
 It was like living a chapter out of a story to go 
 to bed there on the chips and branches of the pine- 
 trees (with the smoke of the fire rising through the 
 cross-beams of the skeleton cabin), to see the stars 
 wheel slowly past, and to fall asleep at last with a 
 sense of following in the footsteps of a beloved father; 
 and the boy s heart went out with growing love towards 
 the masterful young man who still sat smoking his pipe 
 before the flame, meditative as a Cheyenne and as self- 
 contained. 
 
 When he woke, Rob was fanning the coals, and Kelly, 
 scrutinizing the walls of the cabin, was planning the 
 day s work. 
 
 Catching the boy s eye, he called out, "Come, now, 
 Mr. Boss-carpenter, breakfast is waiting." 
 
 Stiff and sore, but happy, the boy leaped to his feet, 
 yawning and stretching. "Oh, my shoulders!" 
 
 "Aha!" cried Kelly, "the frost got into your bones 
 the night. Well, come now, the coffee is the cure 
 for that." 
 
 After breakfast, notwithstanding his pleading to re 
 main to finish the cabin, Raymond hurried Louis off 
 down the canon to the stage, and in his letter to Ann 
 repeated his pledge to look carefully after the boy s 
 health and to keep him out of mischief. "I hope you 
 won t miss him too deeply, for he adds something very 
 sweet to my life. I have never known his like. I 
 am sending for some books so that we can do a little 
 reading together. I don t want to seem only a rough 
 old gold-hunter in his eyes." 
 
 Louis arrived at the Springs fairly hysterical with 
 163 
 
Hesper 
 
 joy over his wonderful day s ride, and set about to de 
 scribe Sky-Town. He sketched with swift pencil Ray 
 mond s shack and the Kelly home. He outlined the 
 butte behind it, and indicated, with a few waving lines, 
 the great ranges to the west. He stammered with 
 eagerness of description. "It isn t a bit like Switzer 
 land no chalets or hay -meadows it s just big and 
 primeval, and the men there have come from all over 
 the world. It s settled I m to live with Rob, and I m 
 to take back all my traps and some rugs and a few 
 extra pillows. We re going to have a fine place a 
 regular bungalow and, by-and-by, you re to come up 
 and visit us." 
 
 It was impossible to be angry with the boy when this 
 lyrical mood was upon him, and Ann forgot to utter 
 the reproof she had formulated. Indeed, she was too 
 happy over their reconciliation to even allude to the 
 sorrow he had given her. 
 
 His absence had been a revelation of his value to her. 
 She had not realized up to that moment how deeply his 
 care was woven into her daily life. It was jealousy of 
 Raymond s power an acrid juice which had turned 
 her pity for him, while wounded and helpless, into re 
 sentment ; and now that he was well and triumphantly 
 drawing the boy to his side, her heart was bitter with 
 hatred, but she gave her consent to Louis return be 
 cause she dared not do otherwise, and in a letter to 
 Raymond she said: 
 
 "I resign Louis into your hands, because his happiness 
 is more than my own, and because he no longer regards 
 my wishes. I have heard much of the gambling and 
 drinking of mining-camps. I beg of you to guard him. 
 He is so fine and sweet now, and defilement is so easy." 
 
 164 
 
Louis Finds Raymond 
 
 Upon reading this letter the camp suddenly became 
 a dark and dangerous place to the young miner. Look 
 ing upon it with Ann s eyes, its ferocities and its shame- 
 lessnesses advanced, became appallingly salient. Ac 
 customed to the rough types of Western towns, he had 
 paid very little attention to the drunkenness, gam 
 bling, and disorder of the drinking - places. Their 
 noise was as the wind in the fir-trees, but now he be 
 came impatient of every jest and uneasy over every 
 open lure put forth for such as Louis, and the coarse 
 ness of even the reputable miners began to remove 
 them from his sympathies. He found it harder to 
 make excuse for profanity and foul jests, and he went 
 less and less among them, and spent more of his time 
 with the lad, watching him draw or listening to him 
 while he read. 
 
 Their cabin became the centre of the finer spirits of 
 the camp. Dolan and one or two of his friends often 
 came in of an evening to smoke a pipe and play a 
 friendly game of cards. "A visit to the bungalow al 
 ways pays," said one young fellow whose weakness was 
 drink. They send a fellow away feeling respectable. 
 
 Mrs. Kelly supervised the housekeeping as well as 
 she could, and the place was at least warm and cheer 
 ful. Once a fortnight Louis rode down the trail to 
 spend Sunday with Ann, but Raymond steadily re 
 fused to join him, though he suffered keenly of lone 
 liness. 
 
 "I am a miner now," he said. "I ve taken myself 
 out of that life." And Louis did not know when he 
 carried these words to his sister that they conveyed a 
 deeper meaning. Ann was aware that Raymond was 
 holding aloof from her, and, while she respected him for 
 
 165 
 
Hesper 
 
 his consideration, she was, after all, a woman, and re 
 sented his self-mastery a little. It touched her pride 
 to think he could so easily put her out of his life, 
 when, so far from losing ground with her, he filled a 
 larger space each week; but this, she argued, was due 
 to Louis absurd infatuation, and not to any quality, 
 any allurement in the man himself. 
 
 Meanwhile she was beginning to be bored to hope 
 lessness by the narrow life at the Springs, under con 
 ditions which seemed to the outsider ideally beautiful. 
 Surrounded by luxuries of food and dress, with a superb 
 and ever-changing mountain vista, she grew restless, 
 irritable, and moody, and horribly critical of every one 
 she met. Had not Don been secure in good-nature, 
 and Jeannette in long-suffering patience, they would 
 have thrown her upon the street in disgust. 
 
 It was a small world, considered from the social 
 point of view, and that was the only view Ann s cir 
 cumstances permitted her to take. She knew, or at 
 least had the opportunity of knowing, all about every 
 one. The newly enriched were pointed out to her, and 
 some of the more eligible of them were invited to din 
 ner in order that she might hear their story of how 
 sudden wealth had come to them, and see for herself 
 how they bore themselves beneath their burden. It 
 seemed that nearly every house on the avenue was 
 built from the gold of Sky -Town. 
 
 Louis came down once a week, each time browner, 
 more manly in bearing almost comical in his assump 
 tion of the Kelly s walk and Raymond s impassive 
 face. He always had exciting tales to tell, and seemed 
 so entirely happy and so well that Ann had not the 
 heart to ask him to return to the East with her. She 
 
 166 
 
Louis Finds Raymond 
 
 even found herself listening with interest to his account 
 of the doings of his heroes, for he had placed Matthew 
 Kelly on the same pedestal with Robert. 
 
 Mrs. Barnett responded graciously to his invitation 
 to come up and see the peak, but explained that the 
 high altitude was destructive to her; and Ann shrank 
 from meeting Raymond again, though she expressed 
 to him in a letter a tepid sort of gratitude for his care 
 of her brother. 
 
XII 
 Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 ONE day Barnett telephoned to his wife that he 
 would not take luncheon at home. There was 
 nothing unusual in the words of this announcement, 
 but Jeannette s keen ear detected restrained excite 
 ment in his calm drawl. 
 
 "What s the matter?" she asked, quickly. 
 
 " Nothing, my dear. Nothing," he glibly responded. 
 
 "Don Barnett, I know better Tell me this in 
 stant!" 
 
 He was in for it. "Well, Mr. Mackay, our superin 
 tendent, was tarred and ridden on a rail by the miners 
 this morning " 
 
 "Gracious heavens!" 
 
 "And I m getting off up the stage -road to meet 
 him." 
 
 "What did they do it for?" 
 
 " Oh, it s the same old business. The men didn t like 
 some regulation of his and struck, and but it s a long 
 story; I won t go into it now. I ll get back in time for 
 dinner, probably." 
 
 "For pity sake, don t go into danger!" 
 
 "Trust me," he answered, with his familiar, mocking 
 intonation. 
 
 " Oh, those savages!" exclaimed Mrs. Barnett to Ann 
 168 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 as she hung up the receiver; "they re always striking 
 or fighting or something." 
 
 In an hour Millionaire Row was humming with news 
 of the outrage. Reports, confused, conflicting, flew 
 along the wires east and west, and the afternoon papers 
 were filled with dramatic details of the opening of a big 
 strike in Sky-Town, and the story of how the union 
 leaders had mishandled Mackay, the superintendent of 
 the Red Star Mining Corporation. 
 
 All this would have interested Ann very little had 
 not her brother been in the midst of the disorder. 
 She immediately wired him to come down, and got 
 a reply from Raymond saying, " Louis is on the way- 
 no danger," and the boy himself came riding into 
 the yard at dusk, serene and jaunty, well pleased 
 with his trip down the canon with the infuriated 
 members of Mackay s party which he had over- 
 taken 
 
 "They didn t hurt him much," he explained, re 
 ferring to Mackay. " You see, the boys don t like his 
 style, and so they gave him a little jolt." 
 
 Raymond s letter to Barnett took a much more seri 
 ous view of the situation: 
 
 "I don t think Mackay the proper man to attempt to 
 reorganize the working hours of this camp. Don t try to 
 put him back, and don t make too much of this little affair. 
 The whole camp is uneasy at this time. The union is 
 getting very strong and likely to make it hot for mde 
 pendents like Kelly and myself." 
 
 "What is it all about?" asked Jeannette. 
 Don looked bored. "Oh, really now, don t ask me 
 to go into the cause of a strike. A woman never un- 
 
 169 
 
Hesper 
 
 derstands such a situation. However, here is what 
 Rob says: 
 
 "Mackay posted his notices Saturday night, putting 
 the new nine-hour schedule into effect Monday morning. 
 Sunday the camp boiled. The union put forth its decree, 
 and of course at the morning hour a big crowd gathered to 
 see Mackay face his men. He came riding up (the jack 
 ass!) in tan-colored English riding-breeches and a little 
 two billed gray cap you know the kind. Of course they 
 hooted him, and headed his horse back down the slope. 
 He was red-headed, naturally, and, being a double-distilled 
 idiot, hired a couple of desperadoes from Bozle as guards 
 and came back. This time the boys jerked him and his 
 men from their horses and hustled them down the canon 
 at the boot-toe. I did what I could to prevent this, but 
 the men who had the matter in charge had been drinking, 
 and the crowd was with them. My men are not in the 
 union, but I hear ominous threats. I advise you not to 
 attempt to put the new schedule into operation at the 
 present time. " 
 
 The effect on the valley of Mackay s recital of his 
 maltreatment was most wonderful. The principal 
 mine-owners of the Springs met to discuss their cam 
 paign. In a thousand Eastern newspaper-offices the 
 click of the recording type gave permanent form to a 
 distorted and inflammatory account of the miner s 
 words and deeds. Mackay s schedule became an issue. 
 The press took sides, playing upon partisan passions. 
 It was overalls against leg-o -mutton trousers; puttees 
 against "chaps," and few saw any humor in the situa 
 tion. 
 
 The valley called for the blood of those who had 
 dusted the sacred person of their representative, and 
 
 170 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 the sheriff was ordered to arrest and bring down the 
 insolent "red-necks" who had humbled^the proud and 
 confident Red Star superintendent. "This spirit of 
 lawlessness must be checked, or it will run into riot," 
 said Barnett, who developed unexpectedly into a leader 
 of the mine-owners by virtue of his large interests in 
 the Red Star. 
 
 The sheriff valiantly responded to the call, and with 
 a half-dozen deputies marched up into the glittering 
 mist of the high peaks, and came down again empty- 
 handed and sullen. A throng of men had met him 
 and jocularly asked, "Why so high above the plains?" 
 "Don t you know it s bad for your constitution?" 
 "Heart-failure often comes from such sudden change 
 of base," they said. " Go right back this minute!" and 
 one young man, with solemn solicitude, took him by the 
 arm and pointed down the valley, and the sheriff, being 
 wise in the ways of such characters, bowed and retired. 
 
 A meeting of the officers of the Red Star and allied 
 companies was called, Barnett presiding; most reso 
 lute resolutions were passed. Mackay was instructed 
 to press his demands to the full. Barnett naturally 
 opposed a conference with the miners. "Either they 
 come to our terms or we close down the mines," he 
 said. "It is our cue to be firm in this demand." 
 
 "But some of us small fellows can t afford to shut 
 down," piped out a timid voice. "Some of us are 
 working under bond, and we ll be wiped out by a pro 
 longed strike." 
 
 "Well, you must suffer for the general good," Barnett 
 replied. 
 
 The sheriff, who had been invited to be present and 
 tell his tale, put in a warning word. "There s another 
 
 171 
 
Hesper 
 
 thing, gentlemen," said he, "and that is this: you re 
 dealing with a lot of free miners and prospectors men 
 who won t be driven and can t be scared. If it had 
 been just a case of Micks and Dagoes, I would have 
 brought em down; but they ve got leaders that you 
 can t monkey with. When Hob Smith, Denver Dan, 
 and that devil Jack Munro met me with their holsters 
 tied down, I threw up my hands. You are from the 
 East, where things are different. About one-third of the 
 men on the peak are old prospectors and free miners, 
 and if they stay by the proposition, you ve got to take 
 a sneak or put up the fight of the age." 
 
 "We stand pat," said Barnett, "and we shall in 
 sist on your arresting the men who assaulted Mr. 
 Mackay." 
 
 The sheriff made an elaborate bow. " Right you are, 
 Mr. Barnett, but I ll want a hundred deputies to do it 
 with." 
 
 "You shall have them," replied the prominent citi 
 zens, whose blood being hot were ready to go to war 
 by proxy, at least. 
 
 Moving with such secrecy as he could, the sheriff col 
 lected and swore in some ninety men the boldest and 
 hardiest to be found in all the towns of the valley. 
 They were not sedate and considerate citizens, but they 
 were brave, or at least reckless, and, without exception, 
 experienced wearers of guns. They professed them 
 selves quite able and willing to bring down anybody in 
 the hills. After being armed and provisioned, they 
 were to be sent round by way of a railroad which was 
 building towards the camp from the south. 
 
 Barnett was heedful of his words at home, and made 
 light of the probable opposition of the miners, but 
 
 172 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 Louis, with a boy s ability to discern what was going on, 
 soon acquired a pretty clear idea of the plan, and when 
 Ann asked him not to return to the heights on Monday 
 he was ominously calm, but asserted his right to go 
 where he pleased, and when she brought Barnett s in 
 fluence to bear, the boy became white and resolved and 
 his big eyes glowed. 
 
 " Rob wants me and needs me, and I m going. You 
 can put me in jail, but that is the only way. If there is 
 going to be war, I am going to be in it, and I m going 
 to be on the side of the miners." 
 
 Ann wrote a swift and fervent note to Raymond: 
 
 " I am intrusting Louis to your care because he will not 
 stay. You have won his heart from us, and we are power 
 less to prevent his return. Guard him, for the sake of his 
 boyish sweetness, for my sake " 
 
 She wrote no further, for, as her mind dwelt upon 
 that camp of ruffian miners and their desire for battle, 
 a bitter resolution swept over her. " I will test his 
 love for me." With cold intensity she announced her 
 purpose. "If you insist on going back to that camp, 
 I shall go, too." 
 
 His eyes widened in protest. "I don t want you to 
 do that not now." 
 
 " Now is the time you need me. I am going in order 
 to keep you out of mischief." 
 
 "You mustn t do it. There is no place for you to 
 sleep." 
 
 "No matter; it is my duty. As you will not stay 
 with me, I will go with you. I came here for your 
 sake; I went down to that ranch to watch over you; 
 I am staying here for the same reason ; and now, as you 
 
 173 
 
Hesper 
 
 threaten to run away, I know where you are going and 
 I will go with you." 
 
 Listening to her quiet words, the boy visibly weak 
 ened. His eyes fell and his lips began to twitch as a 
 sense of responsibility awoke in him, and he thought 
 of the throngs of rough men and the possibility of riot 
 with a new emotion. He saw his sister with new eyes. 
 Her beauty, her dainty dress, her delicate hands! how 
 out of place she would be in Sky-Town ! 
 
 "You must not go," he repeated. "It s no place 
 for you." 
 
 "It is no place for you." 
 
 He asserted himself again. " I can take care of my 
 self." 
 
 "Mr. Raymond has asked me to keep you here." 
 She went to him and put her arm about his neck. 
 "Stay with me, laddie, I am missing you these days." 
 
 In the end she seemed to prevail, but she took no 
 pleasure in her victory, for he went about the house 
 like a young eagle pinioned. Nothing save the news 
 of the camp interested him, and when the time came 
 for the sheriff to start on his new raid he became greatly 
 excited. 
 
 " There s going to be a battle," he said to Ann. "I m 
 going." 
 
 "No! No!" she pleaded. 
 
 He turned upon her with resentful stamp of his heel. 
 "I can t stay here like a kid." 
 
 She changed her tone. "Very well; when shall we 
 start?" 
 
 He looked at her steadily, and into his eyes came a 
 softer gleam. "I ve just thought," he began, reflec 
 tively; "you can stay with Mrs. Kelly till we build a 
 
 274 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 wing for you. She s a nice woman, and lives in the 
 cunningest little log-cabin. That settles it! We will 
 go right away, to-day!" 
 
 Ann was at a loss, but did not show it. "If you are 
 determined to go, then there is no use in waiting. Let 
 us start at once!" 
 
 Louis rushed away to secure a team. 
 
 Mrs. Barnett was appalled at the thought of Ann s 
 going to live on the peak. "You can t do it! There 
 are a thousand reasons why you shouldn t think of it. 
 First, it s terribly high. You may have some kind of 
 heart -trouble without knowing it people often do 
 and the altitude is sure to bring it out. Then, we are 
 filled with engagements for two weeks; and, finally, 
 where can you stay?" 
 
 "I d go now if I had to live in a tent or a cave. I 
 am afraid to have Louis up there without me. Noth 
 ing will keep him here except force, and I can t be his 
 jailer. Perhaps, when he sees the discomfort to which 
 he is exposing me, he will relent. I should never have 
 left New York in the first place, but now that he is here 
 I must see that he does not rush into danger." 
 
 Barnett came hurrying home, his face showing deep 
 concern. "You can t do it, that s all," he said to Ann. 
 "The sheriff starts to-night with a big posse of men to 
 go into the camp to bring down some of its chief con 
 spirators. Say the word, and I will lock the young 
 scamp in the cellar." 
 
 Ann was quite calm. "No, I am going. All I ask 
 is that you go with me and help me find a place to live. 
 He is sure I can stay with the Kelly s, whom he likes 
 very much. Perhaps I will enjoy the novelty of it." 
 
 " But there may be trouble!" 
 
Hesp 
 
 er 
 
 "All the more reason why I should be there. Do 
 you suppose I could sleep, with that boy up there, 
 crazily poking his nose into every street brawl?" 
 
 "Rob will take care of him." 
 
 "I cannot shift my responsibility to any one else," 
 she said, firmly. " Father asked me to be a mother to 
 him, and I am doing now what a real mother would do. 
 He will tire of it after a time and want to study In 
 juns, or the Grand Canon, or something. At present 
 he cannot be hindered from his will." 
 
 And so, while Mrs. Barnett suggested what to wear, 
 Don ordered a carriage to take them to the train, and 
 Louis saddled his horse for his return trip up the stage- 
 road. "I ll beat you up," he shouted to Ann, and gal 
 loped away with shining face. 
 
 The railway which ran up Bear Canon was still build 
 ing, and had not yet reached the divide, so that a stage- 
 ride of some twenty miles connected the town of Grand 
 View with Sky-Camp. Ann and Barnett were notice 
 able persons in the car, which was filled with roughly 
 clad workmen of all kinds, and Barnett s irreproachable 
 sack suit, clear, pink-and- white complexion, high, glis 
 tening collar, and modest " Darby " drew many a thumb 
 towards him. "See that English dood," was the oft- 
 muttered remark of those who were going in to heave 
 rocks in search for gold. 
 
 Ann was conscious of their admiration of her, and it 
 deeply annoyed her. Two or three of the better- 
 dressed men, who were on speaking acquaintance with 
 Barnett, came up to ask him what he thought of the 
 strike. 
 
 "I didn t know it was a strike," said he, ignoring 
 their evident desire to be introduced to Ann. 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 "Oh, it s a strike, all right. Your man Mackay 
 wasn t much hurt, was he?" 
 
 "Not badly." 
 
 "He was a little too previous. I hope the sheriff 
 won t try to do anything more about it. The boys up 
 at Sky are a little sharp-set about that business. Ain t 
 goin up there yourself, are ye?" 
 
 "Yes; I ve always been on good terms with my men. 
 I think I can help to arrange some sort of a compro 
 mise." 
 
 The two miners looked at each other. At length the 
 older of them said, in a tone that meant a good deal 
 to ears accustomed to Western inflections: "Well, I 
 reckon the whole thing has been exaggerated. My 
 claim is just below Bozle, and so, of course, I don t 
 know much more about Sky than you do. Still, I 
 wouldn t advise your going in at this time." 
 
 There were three other women in the car, but Ann 
 was not reassured by their presence. Two of them 
 were hard-faced, chittering little hussies, and the third 
 was a thin, wan, weary Swedish mother, who was kept 
 busy securing and retaining, one by one, her brood of 
 tow-headed boys, who were resolute in their determina 
 tion to ride on the car-coupler at the rear. So, while 
 the men drew Don aside for still more confidential talk, 
 Ann looked out of the window at the frosty, hard, and 
 glittering landscape. The train crawled slowly, pain 
 fully, like an overburdened mule-team, rising rapidly, 
 following the course of a swift stream, which not even 
 the air of that altitude could congeal. It was a vig 
 orous, clear-cut, masculine landscape, inhospitable to 
 women. 
 
 At Grand View a couple of stages met them, and as 
 177 
 
Hesper 
 
 Ann waited on the platform for Don to secure a car 
 riage, she observed that on the seat of each of the 
 coaches two guards sat, negligently nursing rifles which 
 glittered in the sunlight. There was something sinis 
 ter in this or would have been could she have rid 
 herself of the feeling that it was all a drama that the 
 country was on masquerade, living up to the novelists 
 and their illustrations. She realized for a moment 
 some of the charm which it had for Louis. " I wish he 
 could see this," she said to herself. "It would make a 
 superb picture." 
 
 The "alfalfa miners" were stowing their bags of 
 clothing and rolls of blankets into the compartment be 
 hind the big coaches, their jocular words exploding in 
 the thin air like torpedoes. The coaches swayed, bat 
 tered, scarred, and covered with mud, seemed about to 
 be crushed flat by the dingy-coated, brawny fellows who 
 crowded the inside seats to the last inch and edged the 
 top like a row of weather-worn crows on a wall. Soon 
 the whips began to crack, and the coaches rolled away 
 one by one, leaving Barnett to follow in a road- wagon 
 which he had hired for their own especial use. 
 
 The sun was sinking to mid-afternoon, and Mogalyon 
 on the left was in full glory of ermine and saffron. The 
 air was keen and crisp, the sky cloudless, and the road, 
 except for an occasional mud-hole, was very good. 
 Barnett remarked, "We ought to pull into Bozle before 
 dark, on these roads." 
 
 "That s right we d ought to," replied the driver, 
 with discouraged inflection. 
 
 Barnett peered a little closer at the team. " Is that 
 the best you could give me?" 
 
 The driver was apologetic. "Well, sir, the boss got 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 drunk the other day and put em down a hill too fast 
 and lamed the gray." 
 
 "So I see," Barnett resignedly replied. The stages 
 were soon out of sight ahead of them. He turned to 
 Ann. "We could have gone in the coaches, but you saw 
 the crowd. It wouldn t have been pleasant for you." 
 
 "Don t worry about me, Don. I m not afraid of the 
 dark with you." 
 
 "Thank you," he said. " It s all plain sailing, and if 
 you re not nervous it doesn t trouble me." 
 
 Now that Ann was coming closer to the camp and its 
 secrets, she began to desire a better understanding of 
 them. She began to ask questions, but Don, with a 
 sign of silence, indicated the driver, and so her ques 
 tions remained unanswered. 
 
 Night came abruptly. A thin, gray scum rose swiftly 
 on the western sky and suddenly grayed the brightness 
 of the sun. The world grew instantly stern and cold. 
 The road, after climbing a ridge, descended into a gorge 
 with firs on either side, and when they came out upon 
 the flat meadow to the northwest of Mogalyon only the 
 lights of Sky-Town could be seen. The hill itself was a 
 dim, mysterious mass bulging against the lesser dark of 
 sky out of which the larger stars faintly shone. It re 
 called to Ann the loom of New York against the eastern 
 sky as she last saw it from the ferry. This, too, was a 
 mountain range the reality. 
 
 At the moment that Don was pointing out the lights, 
 two horsemen appeared in front and in the middle of 
 the road. 
 
 "Halt!" cried a clear voice. 
 
 The driver pulled his tired horses to a stand so en 
 ergetically that his hands rose above his head. 
 
 179 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Is Donnelly Barnett with you?" asked one of the 
 men, as he rode nearer. 
 
 "Darned if I know," said the driver. "I got some 
 kind of a valley dood here, and his wife or something." 
 
 "I m Barnett. What do you want of me?" asked 
 Don, coolly. 
 
 "Not a thing," answered the horseman. "That s 
 just it. We have no use for you, and I ve been watch 
 ing to meet you and say that the boys want you to con 
 tinue your quiet, uneventful life at the Springs." 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 "We re a couple of Sky-Town vedettes. Who is the 
 lady?" 
 
 "That doesn t concern you. Go on, driver." 
 
 The driver took up the reins, but the voice of the 
 vedette grew sterner: "Stay where you are!" Then, 
 turning to Barnett: "I m your best friend, Donnelly. 
 The boys understand that you are backing Mackay in 
 his plans, and it isn t safe for you to enter the camp. 
 I advise you to turn around right here and go back." 
 
 Barnett laughed. "Do you suppose I m going to 
 take advice of that kind?" 
 
 The other vedette interrupted. "Swat him in the 
 jaw; he s too funny." 
 
 Ann spoke up. "Please let us go on. Mr. Barnett 
 is taking me in to meet my brother, and I am cold and 
 hungry." 
 
 There was something thrilling in the calm, clear 
 sweetness of her voice, and the first of the vedettes, 
 pressing nearer, leaned from his saddle to ask: 
 
 "Who is your brother, lady?" 
 
 "His name is Louis Rupert. He is only a boy, and 
 I am going in to care for him." 
 
 180 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 "Rob Raymond s kid. I know him," replied the 
 vedette. "But I thought he was visiting you in the 
 Springs?" 
 
 " He was, but he went back to the camp to-day, and 
 I am very anxious about him." 
 
 "He s all right, lady, so long as Rob Raymond has 
 him in hand. You are welcome, but Barnett is on the 
 outside and must stay there." 
 
 " I decline to acknowledge your authority," respond 
 ed Barnett, now thoroughly angry. 
 
 The horseman laughed softly, irritatingly. "Man 
 ners don t go with us at the present time. I must ask 
 you to camp right here or go back to Grand View till I 
 can communicate with the president of the union. If 
 you are here to talk compromise, the men will be glad 
 to meet you; but my judgment is that you better retire 
 to Grand View. I will see that this lady gets to her 
 brother." 
 
 Ann was not a timid girl, but the thought of riding 
 away into the blackness of the night with these sinis 
 ter guards made her flesh chill and her nerves creep. 
 " Don t leave me, Don," she whispered. 
 
 Barnett stormed at the horsemen. " It is impossible ! 
 If I am forced to go back she must go with me. What 
 right have you to interfere with our plans?" 
 
 The answer came quickly, coldly, every word telling. 
 "I ll tell you. The boys have learned that you have 
 been chiefly instrumental in pushing the sheriff into 
 another raid, and if trouble comes they ll kill you. It 
 isn t safe for you to be on the hill to-morrow. Now 
 you needn t be afraid to trust the lady to me." The 
 vedette removed his hat. "I am not a man to be 
 feared by women." 
 
 181 
 
Hesper 
 
 Ann again spoke. "I can t consent to your going 
 into danger for me, Don. Turn back, and I will go 
 on." 
 
 It is madness!" he said, in a low voice. "These 
 men are not fit escorts for you. We will both go back 
 and wait until morning." 
 
 Ann s teeth were chattering with cold. "I dread 
 that long drive. We must be almost at our destina 
 tion." 
 
 The two horsemen conferred together, and at last 
 one of them returned to say: Driver, you may come 
 on until you reach the first cabin at the foot of the hill. 
 There the lady will get out, and you will drive Mr. Bar- 
 nett back before daylight to-morrow morning." 
 
 The driver chirped to the horses, and they began to 
 plod across the meadow towards the base of the looming 
 shoulder of Mogalyon. Ann s heart was small and 
 weak in her bosom as she thought of riding that lonely 
 way, behind that sinister guide ; but she was suffering 
 with cold, and the way of return seemed intolerably 
 long and lonely. 
 
 As they drew up before the shanty door the leader 
 of the vedettes rode forward and said, gently: "Lady, 
 the road from here to the summit is lined with cabins, 
 and no harm can possibly come to you while I have 
 you in charge. Or, if you like, you can stay here till 
 morning; but I would advise you to go on to Mrs. 
 Kelly s. There is no cabin suited to your needs on 
 this side of the peak." 
 
 ^Ann, stiff and weary and hungry, rose in her seat 
 with a sort of desperation. "I will go," she said, with 
 trembling voice. 
 
 The vedette, dismounting quickly, helped her to the 
 
 182 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 ground, while the second man, leaning low on his horse, 
 entered into a muttered conversation with an unkempt 
 man in the doorway. 
 
 Barnett argued and insisted on going on to Kelly s. 
 
 "Not one step farther!" sternly commanded the 
 vedette. "But you can sleep here till daylight if you 
 wish." 
 
 Ann interposed. " Don, I beg of you to go home. I 
 don t want you to go any farther. I am not afraid 
 how; this man will take me to Mrs. Kelly s. I m sure 
 of it, and Louis will be there by this time, and Mr. 
 Raymond." 
 
 "Sure thing, lady; and it isn t late not more than 
 seven o clock. We ll almost get there in time for sup 
 per. Can you ride a horse?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Western fashion?" 
 
 "I think so if it is necessary." 
 
 "Well, I will put you on my saddle and I will walk 
 and lead the horse." The light from the doorway fell 
 upon him as he approached her, and the sight of his 
 boyish face reassured her. 
 
 As Barnett saw her rise to the saddle, he burst out: 
 "This is preposterous! You must not go up there; 
 the boy isn t worth it. I m going with you or fight T 
 He drew his revolver, but some one caught his hand 
 from behind and twisted the weapon out of his grasp. 
 
 "Go on, Jack. We ll take care of him," called the 
 man in the cabin door. 
 
 As the light of the lamp was left behind and the 
 darkness settled round her, a convulsive terror seized 
 upon the girl. The horse, stumbling over loose rocks in 
 the road, which ran back and forth on the hill-side like 
 
 183 
 
Hesper 
 
 folds of braid, passed now and again under dark and 
 silent pines, and in one of these shadowy places her 
 leader stopped to rest. By force of the violent con 
 trast Ann thought of her box at the opera, when the 
 lights go out for the overture. Surely if she had sought 
 the whole earth round she could not have fallen upon 
 a more appalling contrast than this experience. They 
 were assembling for "Tristan und Isolde," while she 
 was being led by masked highwaymen into the ob 
 scurity of a mountain. At that moment something 
 took place in her brain a mist cleared away she felt 
 herself in a new relation to the world. 
 
 She was not an imaginative girl; she was, on the con 
 trary, given to taking a prosaic view of what to others 
 would have been fervidly romantic and stirring ; but this 
 she admitted : the earth was larger, more vital, and more 
 dangerous than before, and she of far less importance 
 in it than she had permitted herself to acknowledge. 
 
 Once, as her guard came back towards her, some 
 thing rose in her throat, some elemental dread, and 
 her breath rushed hoarsely through her lips. "If 
 Robert only knew my need of him," she thought, "he 
 would surely come to me." 
 
 The man s voice was gentle as he said: "You see, 
 lady, the camp is in a terrible excitement. We heard 
 to-day that the sheriff was coming with a posse, and 
 the boys kind o hold five or six o those one-lungers in 
 the Springs responsible. They are particularly down 
 on Barnett for putting Mackay up to that trick. But 
 you ll be perfectly safe at Kelly s, and it s right close 
 to Raymond s shack, so that you can see your brother 
 as soon as he comes in." 
 
 As they resumed their way the lights thickened, and 
 184 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 great, angular buildings marked the location of the 
 larger mines. Twice silent figures met them and passed, 
 staring closely at the girl, and once a group of noisy 
 miners crossed the road ahead of them, arguing bla 
 tantly among themselves. 
 
 At length Ann s leader turned towards a dark, high 
 point of rocks, the trail began to descend, and a few 
 minutes later they came to a warmly lighted cabin, on 
 the door of which the guide resolutely knocked. The 
 latch was immediately lifted, and a small, pale woman 
 with a blur of yellow hair about her head appeared in 
 the light. 
 
 "Mrs. Kelly, I ve brought you a boarder," began the 
 
 vedette. 
 
 Ann caught sight of a boy at the table and gave a 
 cry of joy. "Oh, Louis! Louis!" 
 
 With a whoop the boy rushed from the cabin and 
 flung his arms around her. 
 
 " Oh, Ann, but I m glad to see you! Where is Cousin 
 Don ? Which way did you come ? Rob has gone down 
 to Bozle to meet you." 
 
 Ann turned to thank her guide, who was looking at 
 her with undisguised admiration. 
 
 "It was a great pleasure," he replied, with an 
 sumption of grand manner. " Introduce me, please, 
 he said to Mrs. Kelly. 
 
 "I must introduce myself first," said the 1 
 an. "I am Mrs. Kelly, and your guard is Mr. Jack 
 
 Munro." 
 
 Ann gave him her hand. " I thank Mr. Munro ; but 
 I think he should have allowed Mr. Barnett to come 
 into shelter. It seemed cruel to send him back on that 
 long, cold drive." 
 
 185 
 
Hesper 
 
 Munro remained unmoved. Oh, he ll stay at Clay- 
 son s overnight." 
 
 Mrs. Kelly put in a word. " I think you better come 
 into shelter; you must be cold and hungry. Won t you 
 step inside, Mr. Munro?" 
 
 "No, thank you. It is a great temptation, but I ve 
 work to do." 
 
 "Good-night," said Ann. 
 
 "Good-night, fair lady," he replied. 
 
 And so, chilled and hungry, Ann entered the pleas 
 ant home of the Kellys, and the terror of the dark ride 
 became a part of the outer world, shut away by the 
 strong, rude door. 
 
 "Rob has gone down to the stage office," explained 
 Mrs. Kelly. "We thought you d come that way." 
 
 " How did you happen to come with Munro?" asked 
 Louis, still puzzled. 
 
 Mrs. Kelly put Ann down to some tea and cold meat, 
 and, while she was still at the table and in the midst of 
 her story, Raymond flung open the door. 
 
 " Here she is!" he called to some one behind him, and 
 his white face and glowing eyes testified to his great 
 anxiety. 
 
 Ann rose to meet him with a rush of trust and con 
 fidence that filled her throat and rendered her wordless, 
 but she held her hand towards him. 
 
 He seized it. "I was greatly alarmed when I heard 
 that you were coming alone. How did you come? 
 how did you find the way?" 
 
 Ann then said, "Your friend Munro met us, turned 
 Don back, and piloted me up the hill." 
 
 "Don mustn t come here now." 
 
 "That is what Mr. Munro said." 
 186 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 Raymond turned to a big man who stood waiting. 
 "Miss Rupert, this is Matthew Kelly, my mining part 
 ner." 
 
 Ann gave her hand into Kelly s enormous palm with 
 a look of admiration. " I am glad to know you, Mr. 
 Kelly. I have heard Louis speak of you very often." 
 
 In the presence of these men Ann lost all sense of 
 fear and weakness. They were possessed of some 
 thing which Don, loyal as he was, lacked. Their very 
 glances calmed and conquered. To be with them was 
 like being befriended on the desert by the lion, in the 
 jungle by the tiger for they belonged to the wilderness 
 and to the cabin, and knew the rigors, the rages, and 
 the humors of the peak and its dwellers. 
 
 Raymond s eyes hardly left her face; but she no 
 longer resented his interest. On the contrary, she stud 
 ied him closely. There was a subtle change in him 
 he seemed older, gentler, but more manly and hand 
 somer than before. 
 
 " It is a rude place for you to live, Miss Rupert," he 
 said, "but there is no danger. The strike has not in 
 volved us. We are as peaceful as a farm here." 
 
 She smiled back into his eyes with more of liking 
 than she had ever expressed. 
 
 " I am not afraid," she replied. " I am going to find 
 the camp interesting. At any rate, so long as Louis is 
 settled in his determination to be a miner, I must keep 
 him in sight." 
 
 "It is a great pleasure to have him with me, and I 
 am glad to be of use to him, for his own sake as well as 
 for what you have come to mean to me." 
 
 Ann s lashes fell before the glow of his admiring 
 eyes, and with this sign of weakness a flush of resent - 
 
 187 
 
Hesper 
 
 ment again passed over her. "He must not look at 
 me in that way," she complained to herself. 
 
 When Raymond left the house to walk back to his 
 own cabin, he resented, for the first time, the presence 
 of Louis. He wished to be alone with the mysterious 
 emotion which had swept back upon him at sight of 
 Ann. He faced the night, out of which every shred of 
 vapor had vanished, and the blue-black vault, blazing 
 with innumerable jetting globes of light, invited to high 
 thoughts, to serious imaginings. 
 
 His duty plainly was to lay hands upon the lad and 
 hustle him back to Valley Springs, and so put both 
 brother and sister out of his life; but this was not easy. 
 It was a deep pleasure to think of that delicate and 
 cultured girl in the Kelly cottage so near to him 
 fairly under his protection. "A few hours and I can 
 see her again," was a refrain in his thought. "And yet 
 this is no place for her." 
 
 He argued that she was in no danger, and that the 
 change of air would do her good. "She will be inter 
 ested in the mines," he went on, in formless debate with 
 himself. "The scenery is magnificent; and then, of 
 course, she can go down at any time we think wise." 
 
 Louis was too excited to go to bed. His eyes glowed 
 and his lips trembled as he exclaimed again: "Isn t it 
 good of Ann! I m perfectly happy now. Wasn t it 
 nice to see her come in?" 
 
 "Yes, it is wonderful to think of her here so near 
 us." 
 
 "She s a trump. I wish she d fall in love with you," 
 the lad ended, made reckless by happiness. 
 
 Raymond s face remained impassive, but his cheek 
 flushed. "See here, youngster, don t you make any 
 
 1 88 
 
Ann Visits the Peak 
 
 more such breaks as that or you ll invite trouble. 
 Moreover, you turn in and go to bed or I ll buck and 
 gag you this minute." Thereupon Louis fell silent, 
 but his boyish frankness had made painfully definite 
 the desire which Raymond had tried to keep unformed 
 and unacknowledged in his heart. 
 
 Something softer, sweeter, more yielding had ap 
 peared in the girl s face, in her voice, and this phase of 
 her character was more alluring than any other she had 
 permitted him to see. 
 
 In this mood she seemed to approach her forgotten 
 name the name whose every letter was filled with 
 poetry to her father. She became Hesper star of the 
 West a part of the land the father found so imperish- 
 ably beautiful a quarter of a century before. 
 
XIII 
 Ann Touches Plank Floors 
 
 
 little room to which Mrs. Kelly conducted Ann 
 _ was hardly larger than a steamer state-room and 
 was very primitive as regards its furnishings. The 
 walls were of unhewn pine logs and the floors of rough 
 planks still odorous from the saw. A cheap wooden 
 bed stood in one corner, taking up nearly half of the 
 space, and a chair and a little wash-stand of Matt s 
 making completed the "outfit," as he called it. 
 
 "It s a small place and a rough place for such as 
 you, but it s the best we have." 
 
 Ann responded to the humility which shaded the 
 hearty voice of her hostess, and, though she shivered 
 in the chill air, answered, cheerily: "I m sure this is 
 very nice. The bed is tempting." 
 
 "I hope you won t freeze. I ll get another blanket 
 for you. If I d thought, I should have warmed the 
 sheets." 
 
 " Please don t trouble. I do not expect all the com 
 forts of a hotel on a mountain-top. I assure you I am 
 a very healthy immigrant." 
 
 Hesitatingly, with many misgivings, Mrs. Kelly with 
 drew, and Ann hurriedly disrobed and leaped into the 
 bed, which was white as snow and almost as cold. It 
 was like a plunge into the breakers at Magnolia ; it f air- 
 
 190 
 
Ann Touches Plank Floors 
 
 ly took her breath away, and there was no escape from 
 this icy contact, for the air was as bitter as the sheets. 
 
 As she lay with chattering teeth, her mind reverted 
 to a visit she had once made as a child to the home of 
 her grandmother a Thanksgiving Day ineffaceably 
 marked in her mind by the frost of an attic-room to 
 which she and a maid had been assigned. She won 
 dered if Mrs. Kelly s room were as cold as hers. Truly 
 when one went out of one s proper sphere of life ex 
 periences lay in wait as eagles hover to devour lambs. 
 
 The courage with which she had faced the hardships 
 of her trip and the amusement which she now drew 
 from her struggle with the cold of her bed amazed the 
 girl. Some latent force, some quality she was unaware 
 of, rose to fortify her against discomfort and danger. 
 Marvelling at this, she mentally retraced the mountain- 
 road, dwelling upon the more salient incident of the 
 ride. The loom of the horseman in the dusk thrilled 
 her again with fear. She studied once more the dif 
 ferences in the voices of the two guards that of the 
 young man, jocular and cultivated, while the guttural 
 snarl of his companion was like the threat of a wolf. 
 The sinking of her heart at parting with Barnett came 
 back, and when in this retrospect she abandoned her 
 self to the guidance of her half-seen guide through the 
 dark of the mountain-path, she shuddered with some 
 thing other than cold. But the joy of the meeting with 
 Louis, and the unexpected glow of confidence and pleas 
 ure with which she met Raymond s anxious, piercing 
 eyes, came back to warm her heart. 
 
 How changed he was! How deeply brown! He 
 looked as vigorous as she saw him first at the ranch, 
 and yet different years older; and with his strength, 
 
 191 
 
Hesper 
 
 his resolution, something new was mingled something 
 graver and sweeter. He was handsomer in the miner s 
 heavy boots than in the cow-boy s spurs and kerchief. 
 His chin was fine so firm and so cleanly carved the 
 chin of a man who would win his way, who would fight 
 his way. And his eyes 
 
 Her mind took up again the singularity of her posi 
 tion, lying there in a frosty bed in a miner s cabin two 
 full miles above the city of her birth. She laughed. 
 Am I to meet my death by freezing?" But at last 
 a glow of comfort began to steal over her, a delicious 
 languor, and then she was awakened by a grinding 
 sound and by the shouting of cheerful children, and a 
 few minutes later the gentle voice of Mrs. Kelly sounded 
 at the door. 
 
 "Are you awake?" Ann threw back the coverlet to 
 find the room full of sunshine. "May I come in?" 
 asked Mrs. Kelly. 
 
 " Certainly," said Ann, and the pale and pretty little 
 housewife entered with a pitcher of warm water. 
 "Good-morning. How did you sleep the night?" 
 "I don t know. I haven t the slightest idea where 
 the night went to." 
 
 "It s quite cold this morning. Shall I bring your 
 breakfast to you?" 
 
 " See my breath!" Ann cried, in astonishment. "It s 
 frozen." 
 
 Mrs. Kelly laughed. " Ye re lucky not to have a nose 
 frozen." Then she added, hospitably, "Don t get up till 
 the fire warms the room. I ll leave the door open a 
 bit." 
 
 After her hostess left her, Ann lay staring at the 
 rough walls and the still more primitive ceiling in won- 
 
 192 
 
Ann Touches Plank Floors 
 
 der. "It must be real," she thought, "for I couldn t 
 possibly dream it." With a realization of her own 
 sloth, she sprang out upon the cold floor and began to 
 dress with a vigor and celerity she did not know she 
 possessed. 
 
 She came into the little sitting-room, which served 
 also as dining-room, to find Kelly with a youngster on 
 each knee, trotting them "to Boston " so hard that their 
 yellow hair flew in clouds about their shining eyes. 
 
 Pulling his horses to an uneasy stand, the big miner 
 said: "Top o the morning, miss. How did ye sleep?" 
 
 "Very well indeed, thank you." 
 Twas all I could do to kape these wild Injuns still. 
 As soon as the sun comes in they begin the day each 
 day noisier than the rest." 
 
 The wild Injuns gurgled with laughter, and in the 
 midst of their frolic Mrs. Kelly re-entered. "Oh, I m 
 sorry you got up, miss, I was about to bring your coffee 
 to you." 
 
 "I m among Spartans now," said Ann, "and I m 
 going to eat when the Spartans do." 
 
 During breakfast she studied Mrs. Kelly, and began 
 to understand at last that the little mother had not 
 merely washed and dressed the boys and cooked the 
 breakfast, but had served as waitress and \ maid of all 
 work, and now, calm and sweet and self-contained, was 
 presiding over the table. If any dish needed replen 
 ishing, she sprang up to get it, and this put the robust 
 daughter of wealth to shame. 
 
 " Don t you feel tired some mornings and lie a-bed?" 
 she asked. 
 
 Mrs. Kelly smiled. " Indeed I do, but I can t afford 
 to lie a-bed. When Matt makes his next strike, sure 
 *3 193 
 
Hesper 
 
 I m going to hire a girl and sleep till I m weary of it, if 
 it takes a week." 
 
 You must let me do something while I am here," 
 said Ann. "Let me provide a maid for you." 
 
 "Oh no; I was only jokin . Sure you couldn t hire 
 a girl on the hill to do housework; besides, the best of 
 them are not fit company for you, and in a small hut 
 like this you re cheek by jowl with your help." 
 
 Ann had not thought of them as company, but she 
 gravely replied : " I might bring a maid from my cousin s 
 house. At any rate, you must let me help this morn 
 ing. I can sweep and dust indeed, I can." 
 
 "Mighty little dusting the shack needs in this air," 
 said Mrs. Kelly. "Good-luck to me, it s tiny." 
 
 " I must help or I will not stay," insisted Ann. " At 
 least, I can amuse the children," she added, looking at 
 Kelly, who had risen. 
 
 " Boys, mind the lady now," said he; "and you have 
 a care they don t tear you to pieces. They are divils 
 for breakin bones." 
 
 Louis shot through the door like a stone from a 
 sling. His eyes were dancing. "Good-morning, ev 
 erybody," he shouted. " Haven t you breakfasted yet? 
 Why, we ve been done ten minutes. Isn t this bully 
 this life up here? How do you feel this morning?" 
 
 Ann laughed to see him so elate, so vigorous. "What 
 a child you are!" she exclaimed, in wonder. 
 
 Raymond followed at a little distance. "Good- 
 morning, Miss Rupert. Good-morning, Nora. Hello, 
 younkers," and he gathered a boy under each arm. He 
 looked very capable and entirely self-contained as he 
 put the lads down and addressed himself to Ann. "I 
 suppose your baggage went to Bozle, but we will get 
 
 194 
 
Ann Touches Plank Floors 
 
 that to-day; and, Mrs. Kelly, if you need anything to 
 make Miss Rupert comfortable let us know to the lim 
 it of our resources command us." 
 
 Ann, with unaccountable lightness of spirit, quickly 
 protested. "Now, please don t make company of me. 
 I am going to earn my living by helping Mrs. Kelly 
 about the house. My bed was very comfortable and 
 my breakfast delicious. What else do I require? One 
 needn t ask how you are ; you look to be perfectly well 
 again." 
 
 Louis stared at his sister, and was about to make 
 some revealing remark when Raymond intervened. 
 "We are very glad to have you in camp, but you must 
 not suffer inconveniences." 
 
 "I ve been thinking perhaps it would do me good to 
 suffer hardship," she answered, with a reflective glance. 
 
 He considered a moment before changing the sub 
 ject. "Everything seems quiet up street this morn 
 ing, so our trouble may blow over. I am going up 
 by-and-by and will report on what is brewing in the 
 saloons. They are the storm-centres. I m sorry Don 
 started to come in, and I hope he will go quietly back 
 and forget the whole incident." 
 
 As Ann helped about the table, clearing the dishes 
 away, her senses seemed suddenly freshened, renewed. 
 On the clean, rough floor the two sturdy, blond lads 
 were playing with a small and battered toy engine. 
 The sunlight streamed in magically clear and golden. 
 There was a wifely charm in everything Nora Kelly did 
 in her deft handling of the dishes, in her unhurried 
 step, and in her half -smiling, grateful face, which was 
 often turned upon her visitor. The scene was homely 
 homely in the most primitive sense and its spirit 
 
 195 
 
Hesper 
 
 laid hold upon something long hidden in the girl. Her 
 blood grew swifter in its courses ; she returned to the 
 i >ya of her grandmother s pioneer days in the Alle- 
 ghany forests. The rough walls, the low ceiling, the 
 slab chairs, the steaming tea-kettle on the fire, all these 
 seemed at the moment more real, more vitally woven 
 into her life than the furnishings of the city home in 
 which she had lived since a child. 
 
 The cook -stove, the kettle, the busy housewife re 
 called the deep delight with which she used to visit, as 
 a girl of ten or twelve, the ancestral home somewhere 
 up towards the great hills a gray, old farm-house 
 wherein her father began his life. She was intoxicated 
 with joy of her unexpected release from her indiffer- 
 entism. 
 
 For years she had moved in a sort of gray cloud a 
 world in which the sunlight was always pale a world of 
 plenty, containing everything but zest, and deep in her 
 secret heart she had begun to fear that she had gone 
 past any real passion, any close-hand contact with life. 
 She had said: " I ve seen too much. I ve travelled too 
 much. I have destroyed my appetite, and nothing 
 will ever taste good." Now, as she worked at the table 
 with her gentle little hostess, a hope sprang up. She 
 began to ask herself the meaning of this pleasure. 
 
 She found herself not merely liking Xora Kelly, but 
 respecting her. She was work-worn and in a sense un 
 learned, but she had native dignity and a certain grave 
 sweetness of temper which ennobled her, and the girl s 
 heart went out to her. " Now, you re to call me Ann, 
 and I ll call you Nora," she said, "and you re to teach 
 me to work. I ve been living a life of perfect idle 
 ness down at the Springs, and I need to work. You 
 
 196 
 
Ann Touches Plank Floors 
 
 must get fairly dragged out with the never-ending 
 duties." 
 
 Mrs. Kelly s face was wistfuL " Yes, sometimes ; but 
 Matt is good to me, and the boys, with all their noise 
 and worry of me, are a great comfort. Sometimes, 
 when I feel ill of a morning, Matt gets the breakfast. 
 "Tfa a sorry breakfast, but it does me good to see him 
 moving about like an elephant pickin* up pins, leavin 
 a trail of dirty dishes behind him, the great gawk that 
 he is." 
 
 Ann s heart warmed towards Kelly, and in imafli 
 nation could see his kind but devastating figure lum 
 bering about the tiny kitchen, followed by the lads. 
 His giant frame made the whole cabin seem like a toy 
 house. Thus far he had appeared rather silent and 
 reserved; but this was shyness, so Mis. Kelly said, 
 though Ann could hardly believe her, so "gmt^M was 
 his head, so serene his glance. 
 
 44 Have you always had to do this I mean since your 
 marriage?" asked Ann, a little later. 
 
 " Oh no. When we were first iiuuLiied we had a nice 
 little house, and I kept a girl; but Matt is a restless 
 one. He sold his claim soon after, and the house, too. 
 and we began again in Sylvanite. We lost all we had 
 there, and then we came here, and they made him chief, 
 and we were just going to build a house when he 
 found this vein, and put all his money into developing 
 it: and now we re hoping to make a stake and sell, 
 and go down to the Springs where the lads can get an 
 education. Matt has roamed the hiHs long enough." 
 
 Here was the secret of her patience. Love made 
 every hardship light love for her husband, and pride 
 and hope in the future of her boys. The girl rose to 
 
 197 
 
Hesper 
 
 a conception that one might even grow old contentedly 
 with cares and plans like these. 
 
 "I wish I could love like that," the girl cried out 
 in her innermost heart. " I want to love and to suffer. 
 I want realities not this tepid, purposeless existence 
 I now have," and the shaping of this cry in words 
 helped her and cleared the way before her. 
 
 She had not always been so cold, so sluggish. She 
 enjoyed her coming out, her first evenings at the opera, 
 her tea-pouring at receptions. For some years these 
 were pleasures keen and joyous experiences but by 
 degrees they had come to be tedious, meaningless. Life 
 had become flat, like champagne out of which the tang 
 has fled. Her mother she checked herself. " I will 
 not blame my mother." 
 
 "Oh, if I could only give this poor, tired woman 
 a little of my security and physical comfort," she 
 thought, as she sat watching Nora put the boys into 
 their out-door jackets. "I ve been served too much," 
 she said, aloud, to Mrs. Kelly. "I ve had things done 
 for me all my life, and I m tired of it. It will be a real 
 kindness if you will let me do things for you. Show 
 me how to mend clothes and I will do it while you lie 
 and watch me. I can do a little sewing of a sort. I 
 can even learn to darn stockings and cook." 
 
 Something in her voice but more especially in her 
 eyes touched the little wife to the heart. Turning, 
 she put her arms about the girl s neck and gave way to 
 tears. 
 
 "You re good to me. I ve been so lonely up here. 
 If you will only let me love you." 
 
 Ann kissed her. "You poor thing! I think I un 
 derstand. Men are all very well but we need our kind, 
 
 198 
 
Ann Touches Plank Floors 
 
 don t we? Now, you get your work-basket and show 
 me what to do, and I ll do it while you rest, you work- 
 weary thing. It seems I am come just in time to keep 
 you from breaking down." 
 
 "Sure, God must have known how lonesome I was 
 and sent you to me," said Nora, fervently. 
 
 Raymond, looking in at the door, was wonderfully 
 heartened by seeing Ann bent above a work-basket, 
 with Mrs. Kelly sitting near in the attitude of teacher. 
 "I m sorry to interrupt important business, but Louis 
 and I are impatient to have you see our bungalow. To 
 tell the truth, we ve been trying to tidy it up in prep 
 aration for your coming." 
 
 Ann looked up brightly. " Is it quite presentable at 
 this moment?" 
 
 "Louis considers it in order. I am a little dubious 
 myself." 
 
 She rose. "Very well; I will go now. I ll return to 
 my work soon," she said to her hostess. 
 
 " Bless your heart, don t think you must hurry back," 
 said Mrs. Kelly, and her look conveyed the gratifica 
 tion she felt in seeing the young people on such friendly 
 terms. 
 
 " It is a source of chagrin to me that I was of so little 
 service to you last night," Raymond began, when they 
 were fairly outside the door. 
 
 "Oh, what a great, glittering world!" exclaimed Ann, 
 catching her breath as the splendor of sky and peak 
 rolled in upon her. 
 
 "You brought it. The sky has been gray for days." 
 
 When her eyes had absorbed the beauty of the high 
 world, Ann permitted herself to observe the town be 
 neath and the mines in the foreground. 
 
 199 
 
Hesper 
 
 "It isn t a bit as I thought it would be," she said. 
 "Where are the canons and the rushing streams and 
 the log foot-bridges and the cabins perched high on 
 the crags? It isn t a bit as father described it." 
 
 " He was writing of canon-diggings. Sky is a differ 
 ent proposition, as they say up here. We re above the 
 canons above the streams, in fact. Saloon Row, over 
 there, is almost above timber-line." 
 
 4 How can you wash gold out of the rocks without 
 water?" 
 
 "We pound it out with stamp-mills. You are think 
 ing of placer-mining. There is no golden soil here. 
 It s all quartz-mining." 
 
 "It isn t a bit as I thought it was," she repeated. 
 
 "Are you disappointed?" 
 
 "Yes, I am. I thought it would be more picturesque, 
 more as father saw it. Still, it s superb in the dis 
 tance, at least." 
 
 "That farthest range is his Hesperean wall," he said, 
 with a meaning glance. 
 
 Louis stood in the door to greet them. "I thought 
 you weren t ever coming," he said. "I m crazy to 
 show our house." 
 
 " Oh, how fine!" cried Ann, quite sincerely delighted. 
 The room was of good size, and the sun, streaming in 
 at the windows, fell in a flood along the floor, while a 
 big fire warmed the hearth-stone. It was color-full 
 with rugs, and its rude chairs were in keeping with its 
 walls. A big table showed signs of being the common 
 work -bench, littered as it was with drawings and 
 books. 
 
 "We have two other rooms," announced the boy, 
 with pride, "a bedroom and a dining-room." 
 
 200 
 
Ann Touches Plank Floors 
 
 "How luxurious!" 
 
 "The extravagances are mine," remarked Raymond. 
 " Louis was quite content with the bare necessities in 
 fact, I think he resents comfort as being distinctly de 
 bilitating." 
 
 i Ann could not but show a little surprise at each well- 
 turned phrase in Raymond s speech. She turned sud 
 denly. "Now, tell me about the camp. What is the 
 trouble all about? I can t understand." 
 
 "It s quite simple," he replied. "The county is 
 about equally divided now between the miners of the 
 peak and the citizens of the plain. The peak s in 
 terests are not those of the Springs, and it has resented 
 for a year the domination of the Springs. The owners 
 of the mines are either residents of the plain or of the 
 East, and violently opposed to the politics of the 
 camp. Barnett s man, Mackay, attempted to reorgan 
 ize the working hours of the camp and failed you 
 know of the mishandling he received." 
 
 "What are they going to do now?" 
 
 "I don t know. As the case stands, the camp is 
 hot against any invasion by the sheriff and a mob of 
 hirelings, as they call his deputies; and his attempt to 
 overawe the camp only created more furious resistance. 
 I will be able to tell better what the outcome will be 
 when I learn what the union has decided to do. Thus 
 far it has been a game of bluff on the part of a dozen 
 men who are not strictly miners at all, and the ques 
 tion of wages has had little attention. I am going up 
 now to see what is going on." 
 
 She turned to Louis. "You must not go. You 
 must stay with me." 
 
 Louis looked deeply disappointed, but Raymond 
 
 2OI 
 
Hesper 
 
 added: "That s true, lad; stay with your sister and 
 keep her on the peak. We need her." 
 
 Louis smiled slyly. "Oh, she ll stay all right. She s 
 going to like it as well as I do." 
 
 As they were walking back to the Kelly cabin, Ann 
 said: "These are my brother s trial years, both physi 
 cally and spiritually. If he lives these two years, the 
 doctor tells me all danger of consumption will be over ; 
 and if he can be kept untouched of this vicious world 
 up here " She did not finish. 
 
 I will do all I can to guard him you know that ; 
 but I believe in breeding. Louis is a good boy, not be 
 cause he has had no opportunity to do evil, but because 
 his soul is naturally fastidious. He keeps his heart free 
 of evil thoughts, just as he keeps his hands clean. He 
 is a great joy and comfort to me never a burden or 
 annoyance." 
 
 Ann s eyes were softer in their light than he had 
 ever seen them, as she put out her hand. "Thank you 
 sincerely for those words. Henceforth I will not doubt 
 your guardianship. You ll forgive me, won t you?" 
 
 "For what?" 
 
 "For distrusting you." 
 
 " If distrust of my care brought you here, I am ready 
 not merely to forgive you but to thank you for it." 
 
 She turned her shoulder to him. "I don t like you 
 when you pay labored compliments." 
 
 "Now, I beg your pardon," he answered, quickly. 
 "I will not offend again." 
 
 "As it was a first offence, I forgive you," she replied, 
 with a glance that exalted him and remained with him 
 like a benediction." 
 
 202 
 
XIV 
 Raymond Opposes Violence 
 
 AS Raymond entered the street, the peace and 
 \. beauty of the Kelly home, and the vision of the 
 two women bent peacefully above their sewing, stood 
 away in radiant contrast above the reeking saloons, the 
 reckless crowds of gamesters, and the rows of drink- 
 inflamed men lounging along each bar. Slattern wom 
 en leaned from shanty doors, blinking and yawning in 
 the sun, garbed only in crumpled wrappers, their hair 
 unkempt, careless of the sheriff s menace, careless of 
 their future, careless of their God. Chinamen, sleepy- 
 eyed, but mechanically swift and noiseless, looked out 
 on the street sardonically while smoothing rough linen 
 in the windows of their small shops. Compact knots 
 of miners were grouped in the middle of the street, 
 as if for greater privacy, talking earnestly, with many 
 oaths. The searching light of the unclouded sun re 
 vealed the hard and unlovely lines of each face, and 
 the town, utterly, inexcusably squalid, called fiercely 
 for the shadow to cover its nakedness and filth. 
 
 The lover s senses, sharpened by Ann s presence in 
 the camp, detected a most sinister change in the temper 
 of the men. Up to this time all that had taken place 
 had been jocular, at least on the surface, but the sher 
 iff s threatened invasion, with a hundred hired thugs, 
 
 203 
 
Hesper 
 
 stirred the red fires of wrath in men like Hanley, Brock, 
 and Collingwood, who had hitherto been but on-lookers, 
 and they were now the inciting centres of men talking 
 loudly and with undisguised fury. Raymond began 
 to see the striking miners as Ann would see them 
 abstractly they were oppressed workmen; concretely 
 they were filthy and dangerous. "And yet this should 
 not rob them of their right," he admitted. 
 
 Hanley, assuming a fine virtue, argued: "Why didn t 
 he come up here as sheriff, alone. No one would have 
 resisted the properly constituted authority of the coun 
 ty; but when he comes with a lot of battered bums 
 trailing at his heels, he invites trouble, and he ll 
 get it." 
 
 To this Dan Brock, surrounded by his cronies, merely 
 winked and said, "We see his bluff." 
 
 Hanley, perceiving Raymond at the door, approached 
 to say: "One of Munro s vedettes intercepted that kid 
 of yours last night, and got word that Don Barnett 
 was on his way up here. You better warn him off." 
 
 Raymond resented his tone, but coldly replied: 
 "The boy was mistaken. Barnett turned back at 
 Grand View." 
 
 Some one plucked him by the arm, and, following 
 his guide, Raymond entered the room used as the 
 office of the union, where he found Carter, the presi 
 dent, and Larned, the organizer, in the midst of a hot 
 argument with Munro, Smith, and a group of others of 
 their sort. Larned was shaking with excitement and 
 rage, and Carter, the little president, looked white and 
 scared. 
 
 "Keep out!" called Smith. 
 
 But Larned, who knew Raymond s mind, shouted: 
 204 
 
Raymond Opposes Violence 
 
 "Come in! Come and talk to these fire-eaters; you re 
 a man of sense." 
 
 Munro, with a grin, added, "Come in, Rob; this is a 
 council of war." 
 
 Raymond entered calmly, his head a little bent, 
 his keen eyes studying every face. "What s it all 
 about?" 
 
 Larned explained, his hands quivering, the veins on 
 his forehead bulging, his eyes restless and fevered. 
 " If they do it," he said, " I leave I get out. I will not 
 countenance lawlessness of this sort. I m not a fool, 
 I know what the effect will be. If they turn back this 
 posse, the State militia will be called out." 
 
 "The Governor is on our side," said Smith. "Our 
 party has a majority in the State." 
 
 "Yes, yes; but that won t save you. Every decent, 
 law-abiding citizen will go against you your own 
 party will desert you. I know. I know. I came to 
 organize a union to meet the coming question of labor 
 and capital. I did not come here to form mobs. I re 
 fuse to sanction it. I will not have a thing to do with 
 it. If you make this raid, I leave the camp." 
 
 Smith leered. "That s awful; but I think the camp 
 will stagger along." 
 
 Raymond spoke. "I m not involved in the present 
 disagreement, so that my advice is disinterested, but 
 as you ve ridden up and asked me, I give it as my 
 opinion that Larned is right. You can stand off a 
 sheriff once or twice, and you might even stand off a 
 regiment of militia, but you can t stand off the United 
 States army, and that s what you ll run up against in 
 the end. Jack, you ought to have sense enough to 
 keep out of this." 
 
 205 
 
Hesper 
 
 Munro smiled. "I m only the military arm of gov 
 ernment. I m not making laws; I execute them." 
 
 "Why not call a meeting and put it to a vote?" 
 asked Smith. 
 
 "I know why," replied Brock. "Larned is afraid 
 it will carry." 
 
 Larned leaped to his feet. "I admit it! I don t 
 want the word to go out that this raid has been voted 
 on by the union. With the camp boiling with excite 
 ment, it might carry. Outsiders must be taught the 
 difference between the action of the mob and the will 
 of the organization." 
 
 Smith was brutally plain. " It isn t your say. You re 
 only an outsider yourself. It s Carter s place to call 
 the meeting and discuss what we are to do. A half- 
 dozen of us have laid ourselves liable by doing duty 
 for the union ; now, the question is whether the union 
 is going to stand by us or sneak and leave us to eat 
 dirt in a valley jail." 
 
 "You had no sanction from the union." 
 
 "I know we didn t no official sanction; but you 
 know perfectly well that the men were with us then, 
 and they are with us now, every one of them." 
 
 A rap on the door startled them all. It was like trie 
 tap of the finger of fate. Munro opened the door, and 
 Dolan, the reporter, entered. "Hello, lads," he called, 
 easily, "what s doin ?" 
 
 They all shouted, "Hello, Jim!" And Larned, 
 starting forward., exclaimed: 
 
 "Any news?" 
 
 "Well, rather. The sheriff, with a hundred men and 
 a special train, is at Trinchera. He means business 
 this time, lads." 
 
 206 
 
Raymond Opposes Violence 
 
 There was a moment s hush, and then Smith roared 
 out: "He can have it! We ll meet him!" 
 
 A small Irishman leaped into the middle of the floor, 
 wild as a hawk. "Mate him? By the piper, but we ll 
 mate him! We ll make him drink blood!" 
 
 "Shut up," said Munro. "You howling Murphys 
 make me tired. Think this is a clubbing-match? This 
 is war, man war!" 
 
 "Yes," said Raymond, "it is war, and the best thing 
 you and Smith and the others named in the indict 
 ment can do for the camp is to hit a Western trail and 
 touch the high places only." 
 
 Smith snorted. "Oh, h ! You farmers " 
 
 A glint in Munro s eye stopped him as the gleam of a 
 knife might have done. "Don t get gay with Rob 
 Raymond, old sport. He grew up with a gun in his 
 hand, and he s my friend." 
 
 The roomful of men now gathered into groups to dis 
 cuss the certainty. Dolan, gay with excitement, drew 
 round him Carter, Lamed, and Collingwood. Smith and 
 Denver Dan were the centre of another squad, while Ray 
 mond took Munro aside and earnestly pleaded: "See 
 here, old man, you must keep out of this. It isn t your 
 funeral, but it will be if you don t vamoose the ranch." 
 
 "I can t go back on the boys now, Rob. They need 
 my military training; and, besides, I am in it. I won t 
 sit back and see the district done up by these thugs 
 who never earned an honest dollar in their lives. And 
 your friend Barnett what good is he on earth ? Just a 
 blood-sucker on the bare back of labor. I m with the 
 boys, and if my experience can do em any good, I m 
 ready." 
 
 " I know how you feel, Jack, but this is desperate 
 207 
 
Hesper 
 
 business. A fight with the sheriff will set the whole 
 country against the miners." 
 
 Munro smiled contemptuously. "He won t fight. 
 A round of shots in the air will send him hot-footing 
 it back to the Springs. It s all a farce." 
 
 "Be careful. The farce may turn into tragedy at a 
 
 moment s notice. These miners are idle and full of 
 
 liquor. Men like Kelly who have women to protect " 
 
 Munro caught at this. "By-the-way, who was the 
 
 femme ? My word! she s a peach." 
 
 Raymond s tone was coldly indifferent. "Miss Ru 
 pert is from New York City Barnett s cousin. She is 
 here to look after her brother Louis. I was not think 
 ing of her so much as of Mrs. Kelly and other women 
 who can t get away." 
 
 " Well, she s a smooth piece of goods. I can tell silk 
 from bombazine, even in the dark. Her voice was like 
 satin ; made me think of Allie Birbeck you remember 
 her; carried me back to Lovers Lane. I m just as 
 much of a spoonoid as ever. How long does she 
 stay?" 
 
 Raymond grew brusque of tone. " I don t know a 
 day or two, I reckon." 
 
 Larned s voice, rising high and cutting above the 
 others, interposed. "Then I leave. You are crazy. 
 You can t hold this hill with a million Gatling-guns. 
 The national committee will not stand for it. Good 
 bye." Clapping his hat on his head, he walked out of 
 the room, his white face set in a furious frown. 
 
 Brock roared out: "Call a meeting, Carter, and we ll 
 carry it our way. To blazes with the national com 
 mittee!" 
 
 Carter, however, was scared blue by Larned s de- 
 208 
 
Raymond Opposes Violence 
 
 spairing retreat, and refused. "We ve got to go slow. 
 We can t win without help. I won t make the call." 
 
 San Juan Smith, with flaming face, shouted, furious 
 ly: "Then we ll do it without your sanction. The ex 
 ecutive board will act." 
 
 Raymond, on the doorstep, made a last appeal to 
 Munro. "Jack, you can t afford to go into this thing 
 with Smith. Keep out of it. It s bad business all 
 around. It s one thing to strike, and another thing to 
 resist authority. See this street!" 
 
 In some way word had already passed along the ridge 
 that the sheriff was actually on the road, and that he 
 would reach the end of the railway in mid-afternoon, 
 and a great throng was packed round a man on horse 
 back who was good-naturedly trying to force his way 
 towards headquarters. 
 
 "That s one of my scouts," said Munro, "with news 
 of the invaders," and he pushed off into the crowd, 
 while Raymond, with serious face and slow step, went 
 down the path towards his mine. 
 
 "They re going to fight," he said to Kelly. 
 
 "Fight? Of course they ll fight! They ll go down 
 and drive the sheriff s men like sheep. But what then? 
 The crazy jacks!" 
 
 "Do you think we ought to tell the women are they 
 in danger?" 
 
 Kelly was reflective. "Not now. The sheriff will 
 hardly reach the hill this time. He ll go back. The au 
 thorities and the newspapers will chew the rag for a 
 couple of weeks, and then we ll be up against it!" 
 
 "All the same, Matt, I wear my guns from this on, 
 and one of us must stand guard at night. The camp 
 is filling with dangerous men." 
 14 209 
 
Hesper 
 
 At Kelly s invitation, Raymond and Louis took noon 
 day dinner with him. It was a most delicious meal to 
 Raymond, and a pleasantly exciting one to Ann, for she 
 confessed to having cooked the eggs and potatoes. All 
 reference to the trouble on the hill was jocular. The 
 roaring savagery of the Golden Horn saloon seemed of 
 another world, having no possible connection with 
 the peace and sunshine and homely joy of the Kelly 
 cabin. 
 
 The old mountaineer seemed to take it lightly. 
 "They must fight their own battles. I had nothing 
 to do with bringing on the strike, and I ll have nothing 
 to do with stavin it off." 
 
 "It is a regular strike?" asked Ann. 
 
 "It is, and it is not. The big mines are all shut 
 down so far, it is a lockout. But the men refuse to 
 work shifts of nine hours for eight hours pay. To that 
 extent it is a strike." 
 
 "The trouble all springs from a small group of reck 
 less desperadoes," said Raymond. " The main body 
 of the men are ready to submit to law, but men like 
 Smith and Denver Dan and Brock must either fight 
 or flee, and they prefer to fight. But what they do 
 doesn t concern us. We are going right along in our 
 small way. Our men are all outside the union." 
 
 Their calm and confident answers allayed all fear in 
 Ann s mind, and she was girlishly gay as she brought 
 in the pudding which she had made "all by herself," as 
 Mrs. Kelly said. The men called for second helpings 
 at once, and Louis asked for the privilege of scraping 
 the dish. "You are over-acting your parts," replied 
 Ann, but she flushed with pleasure nevertheless. 
 
 Mrs. Kelly spoke in praise of her to Raymond (she 
 210 
 
Raymond Opposes Violence 
 
 had divined his love). "You should a seen her 
 working every blessed minute this forenoon, Robert " 
 
 "You must not compliment me too much," inter 
 rupted Ann. "Maids are sometimes spoiled by too 
 much kindness. Are there shops near? We need a few 
 things to make us comfortable ; and my valises, when 
 can I get them?" 
 
 Raymond replied: "I will take you down to Bozle 
 to-morrow, if you care to go. The shops are better 
 there and the streets less turbulent." 
 
 "I d like to go very much," said Ann, on a sudden 
 impulse. "I d like to go this afternoon. Can we 
 drive? How far is it?" 
 
 "We will ride, if you are not afraid of our broncos 
 and steep trails. It will be more comfortable than a 
 wagon." 
 
 "You need not worry about Ann," boasted Louis. 
 "She s been riding down at the Springs. She s hard 
 ened to it." 
 
 "Very well," said Raymond. "After you ve rested 
 for an hour or two, I ll bring round the horses." 
 
 "Good-morrow, friends!" A clear voice made them 
 all turn. Jack Munro, booted and spurred, stood in the 
 door. "And how is the lady of the silken voice?" 
 
 Kelly greeted him coldly. "Hello, Jack; come in 
 and eat." 
 
 "Much obliged, me lord, but I ve already eat. I 
 came round to see how the lady stood her ride with me 
 up the hill." 
 
 Ann rose and faced him. "Are you the horseman 
 who met us?" 
 
 "The very same, lady. I don t often hear voices 
 like yours, and I wanted to see if the face and voice 
 
 211 
 
Hesper 
 
 were of like quality. They are," he added, with a 
 glance of unabashed admiration. "Introduce me, 
 Rob." 
 
 Raymond reluctantly complied. " Miss Rupert, this 
 is Mr. Jack Munro." 
 
 Munro stepped forward and held out a very hand 
 some hand, and Ann could not refuse to take it. He 
 was smaller than Raymond, and seemed hardly out of 
 his teens, as he stood there smiling brightly, his bared 
 head lightly poised on shapely shoulders, and some 
 magic in his smile made Raymond and Kelly seem for 
 the moment cold and reserved. His assurance, his 
 frankness, amused her. 
 
 I came to tell the lady that no harm befell Colonel 
 Barnett, her escort. He was driven back to Grand 
 View early this morning, and is at home ere this." 
 
 "Thank you for your good cheer," said Ann. "I 
 was not so sure of your kindly intentions last night." 
 
 He smiled again, and his white teeth shone. "I 
 must have seemed a bandit. I m very glad I went to 
 meet Barnett. Brock might have made you more 
 trouble, and I would have missed the pleasure of be 
 ing your guide and protector." 
 
 Kelly growled out, " Kape your murderin scalawags 
 as far from this cabin as ye can." 
 
 "I will see that you are not disturbed." 
 
 "You speak as one having authority," remarked 
 Ann. 
 
 "I am captain of the vedettes," he replied. 
 
 "What are they?" 
 
 "A company of mounted police which I have or 
 ganized to keep order here in the camp. The lockout 
 leaves many men idle, and the local authorities need 
 
 212 
 
Raymond Opposes Violence 
 
 help to maintain peace and quiet. My force repre 
 sents the union and its desire to prevent violence in the 
 camp. You are quite safe here under our protection." 
 
 " You are very kind," replied Ann. "But aren t you 
 one of those for whom the sheriff comes?" 
 
 Munro laughed a silent, boyish laugh. "I believe I 
 am included in his list of notables, but, I assure you, 
 the honor is quite undeserved." 
 
 " Tis true he kicked Mackay down the hill, and put 
 the mouth of his gun to his ear," said Kelly, "but that s 
 a trifle not worth mentioning." 
 
 Munro winked. "A mere practical joke." He rose 
 and, with most richly modulated voice, said: "You 
 have made Sky -Town the most distinguished of camps. 
 Stay with us, for if I hear you are leaving I shall be 
 sorely tempted to put a cordon round the hill to keep 
 you in " 
 
 "I am not thinking of leaving," replied Ann. "I 
 am this moment planning to stay." 
 
 "I m glad to hear you say that. I repeat, there is 
 not the slightest danger, and I am entirely at your 
 service." 
 
 "Thank you again, Captain Munro." 
 
 With the punctilious grace of a dancing-master he 
 bo wed -himself out, swung to his saddle, and galloped 
 away. 
 
 Raymond and Kelly looked at each other a moment 
 in silence; then Kelly broke forth: "The smooth 
 tongued little divil! Wouldn t that frost you? He s 
 to insure peace and tranquillity to the Kelly home 
 you understand?" 
 
 "All the same, Matt," said Raymond, "I feel safer 
 for his presence in the camp." 
 
 213 
 
Hesper 
 
 Ann listened to these comments with interest. "Is 
 he really so important?" 
 
 Raymond did not care to speak ill of him at the 
 moment. "He has great influence among the men. 
 In case of disorder he would be a valuable ally." 
 
 "Jupiter, but he can ride!" exclaimed Louis, who 
 had watched him gallop away. "He must have been 
 a cow-boy sometime." 
 
 " More like a cavalryman," remarked Kelly, shrewdly. 
 " He holds his reins like a trooper, and his leg hangs not 
 like a cow-boy s." 
 
 "When shall we start on our trip?" asked Ann, turn 
 ing to Raymond. 
 
 " I will bring the horses round very soon." As they 
 stepped outside, he turned to Kelly and asked, in a low 
 voice, "Do you see any objection to this trip to Bozle?" 
 
 " Divil a bit. The sheriff will find Jack and his men 
 waitin for him on the road. He ll get no farther than 
 Sage Hen flat this night. I m goin to ride down the 
 hill meself, just to know what s goin on. Go ahead, 
 lad; only don t loiter." The big fellow smiled. "Get 
 back before sunset, whatever ye do." 
 
 Raymond resented Munro s call and forced intro 
 duction to Ann more deeply than he cared to admit 
 even to Kelly. It hurt him to think that Ann s hand 
 had lain within the clasp of a man to whom women had 
 ever been merely a lower order of life to be used as 
 playthings even at that moment he was fresh from 
 the kiss of a poor, doting woman who had renounced 
 all the rest of the world for him, and with whom he 
 made his home. Even Kelly, accustomed to the law 
 less sex relations of a mining-camp, was disturbed by 
 Munro s uninvited entrance to his home at such a time. 
 
 214 
 
Raymond Opposes Violence 
 
 "And yet I cannot say anything to her," Raymond 
 said to himself. "I can t tell her what his life is. I 
 dare not even hint at it. But I can stop his com 
 ing " and his lips straightened grimly "and that I 
 will do!" 
 
XV 
 Ann Rides with Raymond 
 
 r I ^HE prospect of a ride down the trail alone with a 
 X beautiful girl fairly unnerved the young miner. It 
 was so much more than he had permitted himself to hope 
 for. "What shall I say to her?" he aske d himself, in 
 wonder of his temerity in proposing such a trip. 
 
 Ann, on her part, became suddenly very thoughtful 
 of Mrs. Kelly, and asked her if she did not wish to go. 
 
 "Saints alive, no!" answered the small wife. "The 
 only horse I can ride is a burro, and I fall off that if it 
 trots. I do not expect to leave this hill till I go in a 
 carriage, and by that token I do not mean a hearse." 
 She smiled brightly. " I m a tough wan. Perhaps I ll 
 live to ride in me own chaise yet." 
 
 "I sincerely hope you may," replied Ann. 
 
 At two-thirty, prompt as a groom, Raymond brought 
 the horses round to the door. Ann was delighted with 
 Kelly s big bay. There was something appealing in 
 his eyes, so deep and brown, something trustworthy in 
 the carriage of his head. 
 
 "I am not afraid of you, old fellow, "she said, patting 
 his Chining neck. "You are not a bronco; you are a 
 steed." 
 
 Even as she spoke, Tommy, the eldest lad, caught 
 the horse by the tail, and, planting his bare feet on his 
 
 216 
 
Ann Rides with Raymond 
 
 gambrel joints, swung to and fro, shrieking with de 
 light. 
 
 "Get down, you little monkey!" shouted Ray 
 mond; "you ll be kicked to kingdom come." 
 
 Mrs. Kelly only laughed. "He is used to the lads," 
 she said. "They scramble all over him." 
 
 Mid- winter though it was, the sun was clear and 
 warm, and as they went winding down the trail to the 
 southwest Ann exclaimed over the exquisite quality of 
 the air, the crystalline clarity of the distant peaks, and 
 the cloudless serenity of the sky. " I have never been 
 in a land where the sunshine was so abounding, so con 
 stant. Does it never snow here in winter?" 
 
 "Oh yes, indeed! Sometimes the snow-fall is im 
 mense, but it comes later." 
 
 After a short and steep descent they came out into a 
 wagon-road, and were able to ride side by side, and 
 Raymond s breath quickened as he looked into Ann s 
 laughing face. Never had she seemed so simple, so 
 girlish, and his courage came back to him. 
 
 "It has been a long time since I rode as escort to a 
 lady. You ride well." 
 
 "Please don t think you must praise me. I am not 
 a valiant horsewoman. I ve only begun to ride since 
 I came to the mountains." The novelty of the trip, the 
 splendor of the way, and something in her escort s 
 voice carried her quite out of her impassive self. She 
 felt like giving spur to her horse for a wild gallop down 
 the mountain-side. 
 
 Raymond, whose eyes scarcely left her flushed face 
 and shining eyes, was bravely attempting to keep im 
 personal. 
 
 "You must be prepared for very poor goods and very 
 217 
 
Hesper 
 
 small stores. Bozle is by no means to be compared 
 even with Valley Springs. Everything is temporary. 
 No one really intends to live there; they are all just 
 staying, and I fear the millinery is not of the latest 
 fashion." 
 
 "What a power lies in the idea of gold! See the 
 people who have come from all over the world ! Don 
 tells me that every European language is spoken here. 
 Did I see Perry, the Mexican boy, at your cabin this 
 morning?" 
 
 "Yes, Perry is here, and so is Baker. You have 
 cause to remember Baker." 
 
 Ann laughed. "He was very amusing. It really 
 was a first-rate farce, or would have been, only your 
 rage at my coming was so real." Her glance at him 
 was arch with humor. 
 
 She had not spoken so freely and so candidly since 
 his illness, and he hastened to say: "To tell the truth, 
 I was expecting to see an individual with glasses and 
 a reticule. I really began to soften the moment you 
 came in, though I didn t intend to show it." 
 
 "Your manner was quite reserved. Oh, what a 
 singular town! What tiny houses!" she exclaimed, 
 as they rounded a point and came in sight of the 
 lower camp. 
 
 "Don t misjudge people for their homes," he warn- 
 ingly said. "In this log-cabin lives our chief banker. 
 In this elegant aspen bungalow lives a celebrated gam 
 bler." 
 
 "Whose is the big house with the cupola?" 
 
 He was a little hesitant. "A certain Mrs. Rantoul. 
 Her husband was a Mexican, I believe." 
 
 " She must be incredibly rich." Ann s curiosity seemed 
 218 
 
Ann Rides with Raymond 
 
 satisfied. "Please take me to a shop where I can get 
 some chairs and a small table. I am going to present 
 Mrs Kelly with an easy-chair." 
 
 "Very well," said he; "I know the very place, but 
 please do not go about the streets alone. Of course 
 you are perfectly safe, but you are a stranger and might 
 wander into the wrong doors. Wait till I tie the horses 
 and do one or two errands, then I will join you, and we 
 can go where you please." 
 
 "Very well," she replied, with a feeling of pleasure 
 in his care of her. " I will want to visit several shops." 
 
 The keeper of the furniture store was a portly Jewess. 
 Her broad face shone with good-humor and the most 
 recent application of a towel. The smell of fish was 
 in her ample garments as she came forward to meet her 
 customer. 
 
 "And what can I do for the lady?" she asked, alertly. 
 
 Ann referred to her list and named the small pieces 
 she needed, while the Jewess stood with ears intent, 
 her eyes securing every detail of the customer s dress. 
 
 "She is a New-Yorker," she thought, and at once 
 put her thought into question. 
 
 Ann replied, coldly, "Yes, I m from New York City." 
 
 "I fought so. We don t see such clothes out here, 
 not very often. How did you get so far away?" She 
 threw out her hands. "Ah, will I ever see Sixth Ave 
 nue again? Nine years we hafe been in the West. 
 Benjamin is satisfied to be here among the mountains, 
 but I I am hungry for a sight of the good markets and 
 the city crowds. If we had our little shop on Sixth 
 Avenue once more, I would not leave it no, not to be 
 a millionaire. What business are you in?" she paused 
 amid her lamentations to ask. 
 
 219 
 
Hesper 
 
 "I am visiting some friends on the hill," answered 
 Ann, and smiled to herself as she added, "The Kelly s." 
 
 "I know them. They are good people," said Mrs. 
 Benjamin, in a tone which plainly indicated that her 
 customer s social position had been bettered by her 
 connection with Matthew Kelly. The humor of this 
 appealed to Ann from moment to moment, as the sales 
 woman went on. "The Kellys buy. all their furniture 
 of me, and they pay cash, but I would trust them to 
 any amount. Matt Kelly is good for every cent he 
 promises." 
 
 The aristocrat found herself in a relation to this 
 sturdy shopkeeper which she had never before occu 
 pied. Mrs. Benjamin treated her as a friend and an 
 equal, and, as business was not pressing, seemed ready 
 to gossip indefinitely. "The worst of it is, miss I 
 didn t catch the name " She paused expectantly. 
 
 Ann reluctantly gave up her name: "Miss Rupert." 
 
 " Rupert? It is a German name. The worst of trade 
 is here. You cannot be friends with all your customers. 
 The women who come in, our best customers," she said, 
 significantly, "are not the kind you can visit and be 
 neighborly with. They live on the street back of here, 
 and they are a nuisance. They drink, they swear, they 
 fight; but they buy furniture, and so I must treat em 
 right. But my children are now so big Sammie is 
 eight, and Sarah is ten I feel we must move away to 
 where we can give them good schooling and good so 
 ciety." 
 
 As she talked, Ann ceased to smile in amused con 
 tempt, and came to see the human side of this rule, 
 sagacious woman of business. "She is, after all a good 
 wife and a faithful and loving mother." Her anxiety 
 
 220 
 
Ann Rides with Raymond 
 
 that her children should grow up good and clean dig 
 nified her made even her gross curiosity, her tactless 
 ness, of small account. 
 
 When Raymond came in, he was amazed to find the 
 two women seated side by side in bright and shining 
 new rocking-chairs, deep in a discussion of the duty of 
 parents to their children. 
 
 The fact that Raymond, whom she did not know, 
 was on intimate terms with Ann, caused Mrs. Benja 
 min to beam broadly on them both. She did not hesi 
 tate to say, "Will you have your man look at the tables, 
 or shall we just go ahead?" 
 
 With a laughing look at Raymond, Ann demurely 
 said: "I don t think we will need to trouble him. I 
 see he has a newspaper; he can read that." 
 
 " Give a man a paper and he is deaf, dumb, and blind 
 to his wife or anybody else," Mrs. Benjamin thereupon 
 remarked, with conviction. "Well, now, come along, 
 and I ll see what I can do on a table. Will you take 
 ash or elm?" 
 
 Raymond would have been more highly amused had 
 he not been filled with anxiety. The street was full of 
 men drawn together by a report that the sheriff had 
 stolen a march on Sky-Town, and was already on his 
 way to intimidate Bozle and demand those for whom 
 his warrants called. Horsemen were galloping up the 
 hill to warn the miners, and the chief of police and 
 mayor were mingling with the growing throng, plead 
 ing for peace. The whole camp resembled a nest of 
 ants into which an ox had planted a hoof. 
 
 Ann observed Raymond s abstraction and restless 
 ness, and asked, "Are you in haste to return?" 
 
 He answered, quite calmly, "Yes, we ought to start 
 
 221 
 
Hesper 
 
 back as soon as we can; but not till you make your 
 purchases, of course." 
 
 Mrs. Benjamin seemed to love each article, and de 
 tailed its merits and complained of the high cost of 
 freighting, all of which took time. Ann lost her sense 
 of amusement at last, and cut short voluble explana 
 tions with a curt "Very well, I will take that. You 
 will send them for me?" 
 
 Raymond stood at the door talking with a perturbed 
 man in gray clothes, who carried a bandanna in his 
 hand, and whose face was deeply lined with anxiety. 
 He seemed to be in a profuse perspiration, and as Ann 
 drew near she heard him exclaiming, in a choked voice : 
 "My God, if they begin shooting I don t know where 
 it will end. The whole town is mad as hornets, and 
 some of the fellers are plumb crazy." Seeing Ann ap 
 proaching, he bowed clumsily and edged away. 
 
 "Who was your nervous friend?" asked the girl. 
 
 "That was the mayor. He is scared blue by the 
 news that the sheriff and his men are marching on 
 Bozle. It stands us in hand to mount and get away 
 at once." 
 
 Ann s face became grave. " Is there danger of shoot 
 ing?" 
 
 "There is. Bozle is in sympathy with the miners, 
 and hates the valley, and the sheriff s posse is consid 
 ered a mob of outsiders. The streets are rilled with 
 men, and some reckless fellow may fire a shot and 
 bring on a desperate struggle. I am going after the 
 horses. Please don t step outside the door till I come 
 back." 
 
 "What is that?" asked Mrs. Benjamin, sharply. 
 "What is going on?" 
 
 222 
 
Ann Rides with Raymond 
 
 Ann answered, "The sheriff is coming to arrest 
 some men." 
 
 "He is! When?" 
 
 "Immediately, I think. Mr. Raymond said " 
 
 "Oh, my little ones! They are playing outside. 
 Keep the door while I bring them in," exclaimed the 
 mother, and scuttled out like a distracted goose. 
 
 Ann stood at the door watching the miners as they 
 boiled out of saloon doors like bees, and eddied and 
 swirled into knots and close-packed circles. Here and 
 there a man could be heard shouting a command, and 
 horsemen began to clatter up and down the dusty 
 street. It was all so unreal to the city girl, so like a 
 shadowy moving-picture, that fear was not awakened 
 in her heart. Strange to say, the tumult enthralled 
 her swept her out of herself. Near her on the walk 
 men were snarling threats and curses, making use of 
 phrases whose grotesque power thrilled her even though 
 she could not understand why one man should call an 
 other such names. Once a decent-faced young fellow 
 caught sight of her and struck the others into silence, 
 then turned to her and said, quietly, yet with author 
 ity: "Go inside, miss. There 11 be hell to pay here in 
 ten minutes." 
 
 She hurriedly withdrew into the shelter of the door 
 way till he had passed. Then, overcome by the hunger 
 to see, she returned to her former position just as four 
 men, inflamed of drink and belching terrible threats, 
 turned and faced her. Beneath their gaze she shivered 
 with a sense of her weakness, and her heart went out to 
 Raymond in trust and longing, so that when she saw 
 his impassive face and clear, brown eyes, she reached 
 her hand to him with an impulse to be shielded. " Oh, 
 
 223 
 
Hesper 
 
 these terrible men!" she cried out. "What are they 
 going to do?" 
 
 Raymond was breathing rapidly. "Some one has 
 borrowed our horses," he explained, quietly, "and I 
 must ask you to wait a little longer while I secure an 
 other for you." 
 
 "Will they not return them?" 
 
 " I am afraid not. They have probably gone up the 
 hill to join Munro s men, and they will be returned at 
 the stable. If you are not afraid " 
 
 "Oh no, I am not afraid!" 
 
 His manner was unconsciously that of the lover as 
 he added, hurriedly: " I shouldn t have allowed you to 
 come, but I had no idea that the sheriff would dare to 
 visit Bozle. If anything should happen to you " 
 
 "What can happen to me? If there is shooting, 
 I will get behind the counter that is the way the 
 people all do when Alkali Ike begins to whirl his 
 revolver I ve read the comic papers, you see." 
 
 He looked at her in admiration. "I don t believe 
 you are scared. Well, now, stay here till I can see 
 what I can do about a horse." 
 
 Again Ann stood alone in the doorway, watching a 
 group of men crouching on the flat roof of a two-story 
 building opposite. Two of them had rifles in their 
 hands, and some man was shouting from the walk, 
 "Keep them guns out o sight!" 
 
 Mrs. Benjamin, glowering fiercely in maternal 
 anxiety, came down the walk driving two weeping 
 children before her. "Get on there! What do you 
 mean by running away so? You shall go to bed now 
 to pay for this! Did any one call?" she asked of Ann. 
 
 "No one except Mr. Raymond." 
 224 
 
Ann Rides with Raymond 
 
 "I must lock the door. There is going to be war. 
 Oh, I wish Benjamin was here; he is gone to Valley 
 Springs to-day. Keep my door for one minute while 
 I lock these truants up," and she disappeared in the 
 rooms at the back of the store, whence her loud voice 
 rang in reprimand. 
 
 The girl began to tingle with a foreknowledge of vio 
 lence. From a hundred sources she drew her fears. 
 It was as if the voices in the street were the moan of 
 leaves, the whistle of twigs, the creaking of branches in 
 the storm wind. These men, who had amused her a 
 few moments before, suddenly became squat and sinis 
 ter and without pity. All that she had ever read of 
 Western violence and mountain insubordination rose 
 in her mind, and as she listened a wild cry went up 
 from the roof-tops "Here they come!" 
 
 The throngs below uttered answering shouts; men 
 began to run to and fro aimlessly, filling the street 
 facing to the south. In the back room the perturbed 
 mother could still be heard expostulating with her 
 rebellious children. Their wails added something 
 uncanny to the roar outside. Men passed the door, 
 pushing, trotting, their curses weak for lack of breath, 
 but they all uttered the same grotesque phrase, the 
 same singular epithet that to the girl seemed both 
 vulgar and comic. It was evident that they intended 
 this malediction to express their utter contempt and 
 loathing for those who came up with the sheriff from 
 the valley. In the hands of hot-heads, guns began to 
 glitter. Their action was unreal, spectacular; but 
 their voices shook her, benumbed her. 
 
 Raymond came hurrying back, his lips set and 
 resolute, his brow frowning with anxiety. "I can- 
 is 225 
 
Hesper 
 
 not find a horse that you can ride. I have ordered a 
 team. We will have to go the back way to reach it." 
 
 A wilder yell arose. The leaders began to run 
 down the street which led to the south. Ann took 
 hold of Raymond s arm with nervous clutch. "What 
 are they going to do?" 
 
 "It s hard to tell. I wish we were safely out of 
 this." 
 
 "Can t we run?" 
 
 "Run! Dear girl, you couldn t walk four blocks 
 in this altitude. If you will come with me we will 
 cross to the barn and get our carriage there." 
 
 Unconsciously clinging to his arm, Ann went down 
 the back street as in a dream. A row of mean houses 
 stood close to the walk. A small and rather pretty 
 woman in her night-gown leaned in a shanty door, 
 laughing drunkenly, a toothpick in her mouth. An 
 old hag next door was haranguing three or four di 
 shevelled female heads which were projecting from 
 the windows of another wretched shack. 
 
 "Stay in, I tell ye! It s no good you re poking 
 round. Stay in!" 
 
 Every door on that street seemed to have its slat 
 tern drab, just started awake like a lazy dog, aware 
 of danger but not yet in terror. One of them, gay 
 with the gayety of utter recklessness, cried out to 
 Raymond, "Hello, Charley; what s all the row?" 
 
 Others, scared into respectful speech, stopped Ray 
 mond, asking, excitedly, "Is there going to be a 
 fight?" 
 
 "I don t think so. Go inside!" he harshly replied, 
 and hurried on, more eager to take Ann out of this 
 defilement than to escape bullets. 
 
 226 
 
Ann Rides with Raymond 
 
 Ann s lungs were aching, and a terrible pain was in 
 her head and breast. 
 
 "Please don t hurry," she gasped. 
 
 He halted abruptly. "I beg your pardon. I hope 
 I haven t winded you. We have only a few steps 
 to go." 
 
 As the girl stood breathing hard and regaining her 
 strength she looked about at the half -clad wantons, 
 and said, "Are all the women of Bozle like this?" 
 
 "Oh no; this is the very street you shouldn t have 
 seen; but it is our only chance to reach the barn." 
 
 They were already too late. The cross street was 
 packed with men, and, looking down the hill, they saw 
 the sheriff and his posse coming six abreast like a 
 squad of cavalry, riding slowly up between the walls 
 of stern and silent citizens of the great camp. Each 
 deputy carried a rifle across the pommel of his sad 
 dle, and at their head, preceding even the sheriff, rode 
 Matthew Kelly. His head was bare, and in his hand 
 a long revolver gleamed. There was something in 
 his face, in the lift of his head, that awed men. As 
 he came he called out, not loudly, but every word 
 could be heard: 
 
 "Aisy now, boys! Respect the law. Aisy, I say. 
 This is no fight of yours. Down with yer guns; there 
 are women and children to think of. Kape the peace." 
 
 Raymond looked at Ann with eyes whose light 
 amazed her. "By the Lord, I wish I were by his 
 side!" He spoke through his set teeth. 
 
 "Go!" she said. " Do not mind me. Go help him." 
 
 Her voice recalled him. 
 
 "No, my place is here," and his look meant more 
 than any word he had ever dared to speak to her. 
 
 227 
 
Hesper 
 
 In the square Kelly halted, and the sheriff, throw 
 ing up his hand, commanded silence. He was visibly 
 trembling, but he blustered to his purpose. "Where 
 is your mayor and your chief of police?" 
 
 The chief stepped forth. "Here I am! What do 
 you want of me?" 
 
 "I want you to deliver to me the men who assault 
 ed Mackay." 
 
 The chief waved his hand towards the hills. "They 
 are up there; go get them!" and a roar of derisive ap 
 plause went up. 
 
 Kelly raised his hand. " Boys, hear me! This is the 
 sheriff, the properly constituted authority of this coun 
 ty. We are under the same laws, and we must obey 
 the laws. I have on the hill yonder a wife and two 
 babes. I came down here to do what I could to keep 
 the peace, and I ll kill the first man that fires a shot. 
 Be quiet, now, and listen to reason." 
 
 The sheriff, gaining courage, took up the theme. " I 
 have no war with Bozle," he said; "I came to get the 
 men who abused Mackay and who defied my authority." 
 
 "Well, go get them," repeated a man in the crowd. 
 "What are you doing here? You came here to in 
 timidate us, and you can t do it." 
 
 While they listened, Raymond stood shielding Ann 
 with his body, ready to protect her from harm. The 
 crowd pressed upon them so tightly that flight was 
 for the moment impossible. His hand covered her 
 shoulder as she sheltered herself beneath his arm. 
 The touch of her soft flesh to his breast exalted him, 
 gave him the courage of a lion. No one noticed 
 them, so tense was the interest in the sheriff and his 
 harangue. 
 
 228 
 
Ann Rides with Raymond 
 
 "You came here to intimidate us," shouted the 
 chief of police, "and it can t be done!" 
 
 The crowd, moved by some sinister impulse, closed 
 round the sheriff and Kelly, cutting them off from 
 the main body of the deputies. This movement open 
 ed a way of escape, and, expecting each moment to 
 hear the crackle of guns, Raymond hurried Ann 
 across the street and into the musty waiting-room of 
 the livery-barn. 
 
 "Where is that team?" he shouted to the hostler, 
 who was looking out of a side door. 
 "The boss took it." 
 "Well, get me another, quick." 
 "There s the mayor," gleefully shouted the hostler, 
 ignoring Raymond s command. "And Kelly s speak 
 ing again; he s a good one." 
 
 "Whose horse is this with the saddle on?" 
 The hostler looked down for a moment. "Super 
 intendent of Loadstone." 
 "Maynard s?" 
 "Yep." 
 
 "I thought so. Well, you tell him that Rob Ray 
 mond borrowed him for a lady." He turned to Ann. 
 "Come, we must get out of this." 
 
 She obeyed like a child, all her imperious nature 
 in subjection to his will. Lifting her to the saddle, he 
 led the horse out the back way and through an alley 
 into the main street, and so to the hills. As they 
 reached a fairly level spot in the trail he turned and 
 looked back over the roofs of the houses. 
 
 "The sheriff is retreating wherein he shows good 
 sense." He pointed above them, where, on Pine Moun 
 tain, Munro s vedettes stood waiting, backed by a thou- 
 
 229 
 
Hesper 
 
 sand miners, jocular with battle-hunger, shouting faint 
 defiance. 
 
 "I am sorry to be such a burden to you," said Ann. 
 "I know you longed to be there with Matthew Kelly, 
 and I have forced you to flight." 
 
 "I will be honest. I had that impulse. You see, 
 I ve been so in the habit of mixing in but it was only a 
 flash for you were beside me"; and then he added, 
 "And you are more to me than any other thing in the 
 world." 
 
 She had no reply to this, no neat turn of phrase, no 
 smile. She looked away in silence, her breath a little 
 troubled, her throat contracted. 
 
 In fear of the effect of his words, Raymond hastened 
 to the impersonal. "If this trouble is turned aside it 
 will be due to Matt." 
 
 "Why should they obey him? Is he an officer?" 
 
 " Not now; but he was the first marshal of the camp, 
 and afterwards chief of police. Everybody knows him, 
 and his influence is as great as that of any one man. 
 His presence here to-day undoubtedly prevented a 
 desperate battle." 
 
 " I do not understand you Western people who want 
 to shoot," said Ann, reflectively. 
 
 The same impulse is at the heart of the city tough 
 who heaves a cobble-stone. The difference lies in the 
 Western man s weapon. Both want to kill, but the 
 miner s gun is more effective. It carries out his will. 
 If they had begun shooting to-day, no one in the town 
 would have been safe. Those smokeless bullets rico 
 chet frightfully." He looked at her again most pen 
 etratingly. "My anxiety was increased by my sense 
 of guilt. I shouldn t have taken you down the trail 
 
 230 
 
Ann Rides with Raymond 
 
 to-day, but the temptation of a ride with you was too 
 great. I hope you ll forgive me." 
 
 She was recovering her self-command. I have only 
 to thank you; it has been a most wonderful trip, 
 wouldn t have missed it for anything, now that I am 
 
 out of it." 
 
 "You have reason to be ironical. 
 
 " I assure you I am quite sincere. I am glad 
 it. I welcome these experiences, they are flashes 
 crimson in my dull, gray life." 
 
 " I don t understand you in that mood, he said, and 
 started up the trail again. 
 
 Ann no longer realized her danger. The higher she 
 rose in the clear, sweet air, the more incredible 
 whole miasmatic experience became. The sun, low m 
 the west, made of Mogalyon a beacon to the woi 
 and the far Crestones, pale violet in silhouette, were 
 edged with golden fire. The horsemen above were 
 as flies, the mob below like ants. The only realities 
 were the mountains, the sun, and her protector, who 
 climbed steadily, eager to set his charge in a pk 
 
 Q o "Ff^ v 
 
 The flight through that street of abandoned women, 
 the crowd, the curses, the grotesque epithets, the 
 march of the sheriff s posse, the ill-smelling livery of 
 fice, the escape through the alley, all seemed like a 
 specially vivid dream. The one thing that endured 
 was Raymond s change of manner towards her 
 clasp of his arm and his leadership seemed at the rr 
 ment typical of that sovereignty which men of large 
 mould impose almost unconsciously upon women. 
 
 As they neared the Kelly cabin Raymond stoppec 
 again, and, coming back, slowly said: "I am deeply 
 
 231 
 
Hesper 
 
 chagrined by this experience. I really thought we 
 were going away from disorder." 
 
 " Please do not trouble your mind with it any more," 
 she answered, decisively. " It was an experience which 
 will give me something new to think about." 
 
 Kelly did not return till late. At about nine o clock 
 he knocked at Raymond s door. "Get your gun," he 
 said, quietly. "We re on guard to-night." 
 
 And together they paced to and fro on the hill-side, 
 listening to the yells of drunken men up the street and 
 to distant gun-shots as the storm of battle swept away 
 to the south of them. By midnight all was silent. The 
 sheriff s forces were either repulsed or captured. 
 
 Raymond was not without a sense of bitterness as 
 he meditated on the events of the day. "I seem des 
 tined to play the weak man s part before her," he 
 thought. There was something decidedly unheroic 
 in being left afoot and skulking down back streets 
 and dirty alleys, and not even the knowledge that he 
 was thereby serving her to his best powers could salve 
 his hurt. His had never been the passive part. On 
 the contrary, he had always taken the role of leader, 
 even in the games of his boyhood. Active, resource 
 ful, and fearless, it was natural that he should rebel at 
 a combination of events which seemed to make of 
 him, in the presence of his love, a hesitating, sneaking 
 coward. 
 
XVI 
 Ann s Savage Lovers 
 
 1\TOTWITHSTANDING the excitements of the day, 
 IN or perhaps because of them, Ann slept quite as 
 soundly during this second night as on the first of her 
 stay, hearing nothing of the tumult in the street, un 
 disturbed by the furious rush of a squad of Munro s 
 pickets tearing down the trail. 
 
 She was awakened, as before, by the sound of the 
 little coffee-mill, but she did not rise as promptly as 
 on the first morning, and was still dozing when Nora 
 appeared with a piece of corn-cake and a cup of coffee. 
 
 "You feel tired this morning, I know. Well, now, 
 take your breakfast in bed." 
 
 Ann was conscious-smitten. "No, no! You poor, 
 dear thing, I am ashamed to have you waiting on me." 
 
 "It s so little a mere step or two." 
 
 "Yes, but you have so many steps. After this I 
 forbid you doing anything of this kind for me, and I ve 
 been thinking why can t we hire a Chinaman to work 
 for us? Unless I can do something to relieve you, I 
 will not stay. You are tired. I wish you would ask 
 Mr. Raymond to find us a helper to-day." 
 
 "Hello, sis!" shouted Louis. "Aren t you up yet 
 You ll never make a miner." Here he poked his head 
 in at the door. "Jupiter! wasn t yesterday an ex- 
 
 233 
 
Hesper 
 
 citing day? It makes me sick to think I didn t go 
 down to Bozle with you. Rob has been telling me 
 about Matt s shielding the sheriff. It must have been 
 great. I was out on the hill-side. We all thought the 
 sheriff was coming up that way. But he didn t; he 
 turned back and went into camp, and last night Jack 
 went down and pitched into him, and they had a battle." 
 
 "They did? Was any one killed?" 
 
 "Ten." 
 
 Nora gasped. "Merciful powers!" 
 
 "So Perry says. Our side won." 
 
 Ann frowned. Our side ! You are not taking sides 
 with these lawless miners?" 
 
 "I m not on the sheriff s side sure thing!" 
 
 Ann studied him gravely. "Louis, you are getting 
 very slangy. I wish you wouldn t take on this rowdy 
 accent; it will be hard to shake off. I don t like to 
 see you lose your nice manners." 
 
 Louis wished to side-track this discussion. "Our 
 things have come." 
 
 " Have they? Very well, I ll get up at once and un 
 pack. I want you to help me a little here." 
 
 "And I want you to help fix up our bungalow." 
 
 "Agreed. Now run away and find a hammer and 
 some tacks." 
 
 Together they worked to render her room a little 
 less blealc, and together they crossed the path to Ray 
 mond s cabin, where they toiled merrily. The weather 
 was deliciously clear and cool and golden, like October 
 in New England, and the girl responded to its influ 
 ence as to some rare wine. She felt lighter and nim 
 bler than at the Springs, and though her breathing was 
 painful at times, and a dull ache in her head troubled 
 
 234 
 
Ann s Savage Lovers 
 
 her, she retained her vigor and her elation unaccount 
 ably. She was just leaving the bungalow to help Mrs. 
 Kelly with the mid-day meal when Munro dashed up 
 and flung himself from his horse. 
 
 "Good-morning, Lady Ann; how fares the day?" 
 
 Something unduly presuming in his tone irritated 
 her, and she gave him a glance intended to check and 
 humble him. "I am quite well, thank you." 
 
 He was not of those whom disdainful eyes abase. 
 He hugged himself and shivered comically. "Wow! 
 but that was a cold breeze. Some one must have 
 left the bars down." His open-mouthed smile was 
 like silent laughter. "Come, now, what have I done 
 to deserve such a blast?" 
 
 Ann remained silent, yet she could not but ac 
 knowledge a certain charm in his effrontery. His 
 was the beauty of the black leopard rounded, swift, 
 and changeable. Taking a step nearer, he added, with 
 gentle sadness, "You re not going to draw the line on 
 me, are you? What do you know against me?" 
 
 "I know nothing against you, or for you either," 
 she replied, turning from him contemptuously. 
 
 "Don t go!" he called, and his voice became very 
 frank and musical. "I didn t mean to offend. I 
 don t want to seem fresh I really don t. You ve hit 
 me hard. I came away from important business to 
 see you this morning." 
 
 "You take too much trouble," she cuttingly replied. 
 "You have my permission to return at once." 
 
 "I beg the queen s pardon again I should have 
 said this call was my most important duty." 
 
 "I hope the duty will not interfere with any pleas 
 ure." 
 
 235 
 
Hesper 
 
 He showed a little confusion. "You must take 
 the deed for the word in my case; I meant to com 
 pliment you. I m a little out of practice in repartee." 
 
 Ann relented a little; his self-confidence was amus 
 ing. 
 
 "Oh, if I can be of any service in a conversational 
 way she suggested, with most impersonal amia 
 bility. 
 
 Her tone and mocking inflection, both new to him, 
 puzzled him. "You re having fun with me, but I 
 don t mind so long as I can keep you standing where 
 I can see your eyes." 
 
 Ann flushed with annoyance at this home -thrust, 
 and was turning to go when he stopped her again," 
 and his tone was hard and dry. "You were in Bozle 
 yesterday with Raymond. Don t do that again. 
 When you want an escort let me know; I ll send a man 
 that knows enough not to take a lady into danger, 
 and who has savvy enough to keep his horses for 
 the return trip." 
 
 Ann was trapped into defending Raymond. "I 
 don t think my escort was especially negligent." 
 
 "He s a good fellow," the mocker went on to say 
 in a patronizing way, "but he gets rattled when he s 
 out with a f emme he always did fall down in drag 
 ging a girl around; you come to me when you are in 
 trouble." 
 
 "Thank you, you are very kind; but I m not in 
 need of additional protection," Ann icily replied. 
 
 "Good-bye, till to-morrow," he called after her in 
 mockery, his voice as musical as a bugle. 
 
 This interview, short as it was, left the girl with 
 the feeling of having been grasped and shaken by a 
 
 236 
 
Ann s Savage Lovers 
 
 rude hand. This man neither feared nor respected 
 her. He came as no other had ever dared to come 
 boisterous, confident, undisguisedly seeking to hum 
 ble her. Her position, her parentage, her habitual 
 reserve counted for nothing against him; her youth 
 and beauty aroused only the instant, insatiable, de 
 vouring passion of the tiger. And yet her anger was 
 not unmixed with admiration; his magnificent au 
 dacity and the grace and dash of his advance inter 
 ested her. 
 
 " I wish I had asked him to tell me what took place 
 last night," she said to herself after her anger had 
 been transfused into amusement and her usual calm 
 self-confidence had been restored. "It was silly to 
 permit him to see that I was angry." 
 
 Raymond saw Munro riding away, and wondered 
 what his errand could have been ; and when Louis told 
 him that the gambler had stopped and detained Ann in 
 the path, his teeth set in anger. "The little hound!" 
 he growled under breath. "I ll put an end to that!" 
 
 Immediately upon finishing his supper he went up 
 the path to Hanley s to find "the lookout." Munro 
 was in his place, sitting high above his faro lay-out, 
 clicking a couple of silver dollars together, talking 
 with gleeful intensity to Denver Dan, who stood at 
 his shoulder broadly smiling. The saloon was packed 
 with men all in high spirits over the precipitate flight 
 of the sheriff. 
 
 Raymond was in a mood to suspect evil. "He 
 may be boasting to Dan this minute," he thought, 
 and his hands clinched. "If he is, I ll cut his throat." 
 
 Munro sighted him at last and called out, "Hello, 
 Rob, how goes it?" 
 
 237 
 
Hesper 
 
 Raymond did not reply till he reached his side. 
 "I want a talk with you, Jack," he said, in a low 
 voice. 
 
 Munro studied him for a moment, then turned to 
 Dan. "Take my place a minute." 
 
 Dan complied, and Raymond led the way into the 
 open air; and when they were well out of the crowd 
 he turned and said: 
 
 "You intercepted Miss Rupert to-day?" 
 
 "I met her yes. What about it?" 
 
 "Just this. You re not fit to shake the hand of a 
 decent girl, much less a cultured, high-bred woman 
 like Ann Rupert, and you know it!" 
 
 Munro was staggered. "The hell I m not? What 
 business is it of yours?" he asked, with instant anger. 
 
 Raymond s wrath was self-contained. "Keep 
 your temper, Jack. We ve summered and wintered 
 together, and you can t make any mistakes about 
 what I mean. I know the kind of women you live 
 with and the kind of life you lead, and I tell you to 
 keep away from the Kelly cabin, and when you re 
 round where that boy is you keep a clean tongue in 
 your head." 
 
 Munro did not snarl as Raymond expected. His 
 voice became softly insinuating as he said: "Sup 
 pose the lady invited me to call? Suppose she was 
 interested in my conversation?" 
 
 Raymond s hand clutched his shoulder. "Be care 
 ful what you say!" 
 
 "The lady had a chance to go. The path was open, 
 but she lingered she smiled." 
 
 "You re a liar!" 
 
 Munro was now very confident. "Am I? Ask 
 
Ann s Savage Lovers 
 
 the boy, he saw her talking with me. I say the lady 
 was gracious." 
 
 Raymond s hand fell away. 
 
 Munro pursued his advantage. "You re mighty 
 hot, it seems to me. What business is it of yours who 
 the lady talks to? Are you her guardian? Have 
 you any claim on her? If you have, I withdraw. 
 Come, now, has she made you her champion?" 
 
 Raymond was silent for a moment. She has not; 
 but she is here unprotected, and if you take her name 
 lightly here among these gamblers and drunkards, 
 or anywhere else, I ll kill you." 
 
 The gambler took on the air of an injured comrade. 
 "Now, see here, Rob, you re away out of limits. I 
 acknowledge I ve known a whole lot of cheap women, 
 but that s all the more reason why I should be able 
 to tell when I meet the real thing. If you think I 
 class Miss Rupert in with any rag I ve known since 
 I left the Academy, you certainly do me an injustice. 
 Her name is as safe with me as with you. Probably 
 she s tied up back in the States, anyway, so that neither 
 of us have any chance of interesting her. But it s an 
 open course and no favors, and so long as she doesn t 
 hand me out the icy mitt I m going to make the most 
 of my chance, and from this moment " he took off 
 his hat "I reform! I throw up my job at Hanley s, 
 I cut off booze, and I shake Eau Claire." : 
 
 Raymond was impressed by his rival s manner. 
 "You can quit gambling, and I hope you can leave 
 liquor alone, but I see trouble when you shake Claire. 
 But that doesn t matter. For the sake of old times, 
 I want to avoid a quarrel with you, Jack; but I warn 
 you that if Miss Rupert finds your presence disagree- 
 
 239 
 
Hesper 
 
 able, you go, and you stay! As you say, she is prob 
 ably engaged to a better man than either of us; but 
 she is here because of the boy, and I feel a certain re 
 sponsibility for them both, and the man who pre 
 sumes on a chance acquaintance with her will answer 
 to me." 
 
 "All right leave it to her, Rob," said Munro, almost 
 jocularly. "If she turns me down, I ll pull out of my 
 own accord, lightning sure. Good-night!" 
 
 Raymond walked away with a sense of failure. 
 Munro had adroitly writhed out of his grasp, and was 
 probably exulting at his own cleverness. He was 
 troubled, too, by the confident tone which Munro 
 had taken in saying, "The way was open, she lin 
 gered." Was it possible for a man like that to win the 
 love of a delicately reared girl like Ann ? He recalled 
 the case of Maud Elbridge, the stateliest, queenliest 
 girl of his native town a belle, surrounded by suitors 
 who won high social recognition in Cincinnati and 
 later in New York, and yet remained unmarried till 
 she was thirty years of age, only to be carried off at 
 last by a miserable little rake of a man who had neither 
 money nor honor nor grace, but who won because he 
 broke through her barrier of reserve and laid confident 
 hand upon her. 
 
 Munro had charm. He was undeniably alluring to 
 women, and was fond of saying, "Any woman can be 
 won by a little strategy and a great deal of gall." It 
 was possible that such a man might interest, but quite 
 impossible that he should win a girl of Ann s penetra 
 tion and reserve. 
 
 Out of the tumult of his doubt he emerged with an 
 accession of confidence in himself. "If it comes to a 
 
 240 
 
Ann s Savage Lovers 
 
 choice between us, my chances are as good as his. If 
 she is being amused by us both, then, at least, I will 
 have had the pleasure of her presence for a little space." 
 
 He really knew very little of her family history, 
 for Mrs. Barnett had been careful in her descriptions. 
 "Ann is rich in her own right," she said once, " and 
 has had everything to make her happy all her life. 
 Why she has never married I can t tell nobody can. 
 It s a mystery to her own family. She s not the kind 
 of person to be interviewed on her love affairs, and 
 she s not a confiding sort; and there you are." 
 
 "Her tolerance of Jack is due to ignorance of his 
 real character," Raymond decided, as he walked slowly 
 back to his cabin. " Mrs. Kelly must tell her." 
 
 He saw the light in Kelly s home, and its allurement 
 was stronger than ever before, but he resolutely held 
 his way to his own fireside, there to bitterly muse the 
 entire evening over his poverty and the false position 
 in which Munro had cleverly placed him. 
 
 He repented of his resolute passing of her door when 
 he heard next day that a couple of the independent 
 operators had spent the entire evening with Kelly, and 
 that one of them talked a great deal to Ann. The 
 sting of it lay in the fact that Tracy was a fine young 
 fellow, studious and capable. "You are a fool," Ray 
 mond said to himself. "You threw away a chance to 
 be happy. Don t do it again." 
 
 In the midst of Ann s return of mental health 
 came also the delicious sense of mingled allurement 
 and danger with which, as a girl, she had met the ad 
 vances of her boyish lovers. There was something 
 in these primitive surroundings, in the rocks, in the 
 rough boards, in the lack of privacy and retreat within 
 
 16 241 
 
Hesper 
 
 doors, and in the fulness of opportunity without, which 
 renewed the mystery and charm of courtship. Con 
 ventions counted for less. Human emotions grew each 
 day more vital, more compelling. 
 
 Every man who could by any excuse "drop in at 
 Kelly s" did so in the hope of meeting "the Fifth Ave 
 nue girl." Several of the young mine-owners found 
 it expedient to consult Kelly very often, and generally 
 managed to have a word with Ann. These lean, brown 
 men of the mountains were not given to ambiguous 
 phrases. Their eyes met hers with frank and whole 
 some admiration. No half-way halting - places lay 
 along the ways of their advance. No shadowy allu 
 sions existed in their speech. Their courtship, espe 
 cially that of Munro, was as direct as a knife-thrust, 
 as unequivocal as a pistol-shot. 
 
 And she enjoyed this, that was the amazing thing 
 even to herself and she liked him and derived amuse 
 ment from his singular methods of attack. She was 
 mightily concerned to learn that her character was so 
 largely a reflex of her environment. "Of course, it is 
 only temporary," she wrote to Jeannette. " It s only a 
 play. These people will soon fade out of my life, and I 
 will go back to the old routine in the city, but at present 
 I am actually amused by it all, and my health is amaz 
 ingly improved. I never felt better in my life." 
 
 "The altitude seems to be doing her good," remarked 
 Don, after Jeannette had read this passage of Ann s 
 letter to him. 
 
 Jeannette sniffed. "Altitude! It s a man. She 
 can t fool me with her talk about simple diet and 
 actual physical labor. She s fallen in love." 
 
 Don dropped his morning paper. "No!" 
 242 
 
Ann s Savage Lovers 
 
 " Why not? Wouldn t it be like that girl to interest 
 herself in some perfectly worthless adventurer, after 
 all we ve done for her here? She was bored to death 
 with us. She yawned in the faces of all the nice fel 
 lows we introduced her to. Now, who do you suppose 
 it is? 1 
 
 "My dear, I can t say. There are a lot of fine chaps 
 up there doing one thing or another. Young Reese, 
 for instance, is thick with the Kellys, or it may be 
 Ben Tracy. It couldn t be Rob." 
 
 "No such good taste. She was perfectly brutal to 
 him, fairly accused him of getting shot in order to win 
 her sympathy. I want to see that girl taken from her 
 high horse, but I don t want it done by some of those 
 nasty little remittance men." 
 
 Don resumed his paper. "I m not alarmed. Ann 
 is no Maud Muller raking hay, if you think of it. She s 
 a remarkably self-contained young woman." He low 
 ered his paper again with the effect of delivering a 
 weighty opinion : She needs a lover who will box 
 her ears. I m going to give Peabody a line on her 
 character." 
 
 "You keep out of this, Don. You are a failure when 
 it comes to love affairs." 
 
 " Oh, I don t know," he gravely replied. " I secured 
 you and your millions." 
 
 " I was easy," she laughed. "And you sha n t have 
 the last word." 
 
XVII 
 Ann s Humiliation 
 
 NOT a.day passed that the captain of the patrol did 
 not ride down to the door of the Kelly cabin and 
 leap from his saddle with some fanciful greeting, care 
 fully and ornately uttered. So much he retained of 
 his Kentucky breeding. 
 
 Ann openly ridiculed his romantic phrases, and gen 
 erally asked, "Have you killed any one to-day?" 
 
 "No, lady; but I robbed three," he would reply with 
 a certain effective succinctness; and yet, with all this 
 dare-devil assumption, he was never able to convince 
 her of his wickedness. To her he was an actor play 
 ing a part, and doing it with joy and pride, and she 
 did not care to discover his real self. He was a foil 
 to Raymond, who had grown reserved and moody, 
 and to young Reese, who was very practical and busi 
 ness-like. Munro, indeed, appeared to have little to 
 do but amuse her by day and watch the faro-table at 
 Hanley s by night. For while the valley grumbled 
 and threatened, massing men and munitions of war, 
 the miners of the peak loafed and laughed, and listened 
 to the rattle of the leaping marble in the piebald wheel. 
 The newspaper boys did all the fortifying, and planned 
 all the campaigns which were to follow; and Munro s 
 humorous account of these fictional preparations kept 
 
 244 
 
Ann s Humiliation 
 
 Ann from taking a serious view of the situation, not 
 withstanding Kelly s growing uneasiness and Ray 
 mond s gloom. It was all a colossal farce to her. 
 
 "Well, the reporters put in a new system of torpedo- 
 mines last night," announced Munro one morning, "and 
 they ve closed all communication from the south." 
 And on the day following he gravely said: "We mount 
 ed another Gatling-gun this morning so the papers 
 say and we are now invincible. The sheriff s army 
 grows apace, but does not march." 
 
 Ann could not understand this humorous defiance of 
 law this colossal recklessness. "What will you do 
 when it does march?" 
 
 "Meet it and bu st it." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 He laughed. "Sufficient unto the day is the evil 
 thereof." 
 
 "Tell me, now," she said to him at another time: 
 "what is your real motive? Why should you be the 
 champion of the rights of labor?" 
 
 He astonished her by giving back earnestness for 
 earnestness. "I ll tell you, my lady. Labor has got 
 to fight. This union is the coming thing. The toilers 
 have not only got to stand together, but they ve got to 
 drill. I happen to have a little military training, and 
 I m going to give Western labor its first lesson in the 
 power of military organization. I want to show them 
 that a hundred men trained to unhesitating obedience 
 to a leader are better than ten thousand men whooping 
 and yelling in a mob." 
 
 "I don t know whether I approve of that or not. 
 Isn t it setting class against class?" 
 
 "There ought to be only one class." 
 245 
 
Hesper 
 
 "And that?" 
 
 "The toilers." 
 
 "Ah, you d destroy us." 
 
 "Whom do you mean by us*?" 
 
 "The wealthy, the plutocrats." 
 
 "Are you a plutocrat?" 
 
 Ann smiled. "I suppose your brethren would call 
 me that, Still, all this seems very strange in a gam 
 bler." 
 
 "I ll tell you something I m not a gambler. I am 
 a judge." 
 
 "A judge?" 
 
 "Yes, I sit above the board to see that every man 
 has a fair deal and a full count. I never gamble." 
 
 "Tell me just what you do. It is all so strange to 
 me." 
 
 "There is a game, sweet lady, called faro. It is a 
 pure game of chance when the dealing is honest and 
 above-board. It is played at a low table round which 
 the gamblers sit facing the dealer. Back of the whole 
 lay-out, and on a high chair, sits the judge looking 
 down over the head of the dealer. He follows every 
 motion and records every deal. I am a judge. It s a 
 confining job, but it brings me in touch with the whole 
 camp. The boys know I m on the square they ve 
 had occasion to test it and when I want anything I 
 get it. The dollars I earn are as honest as any of those 
 your Eastern aristocrats make by bu sting one railroad 
 to build up another." 
 
 Ann s eyes were reflective. "That is a new avoca 
 tion to me," she said, slowly. "And it is not for me to 
 say that you are not doing good, and yet your wages 
 come from the miners, after all." 
 
 246 
 
Ann s Humiliation 
 
 "Can you snifE of each dollar you get from your 
 father and not smell blood? All money is blood- 
 money somewhere down the line." 
 
 Ann shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, this is getting 
 too serious, Mr. Judge. I didn t intend to stir you 
 to an exposition of Nihilism." 
 
 "I m only just trying to show you that I m not so 
 black as a lot of these dubs would have you think. 
 I want you to carry a mighty fine estimate of me. 
 I claim that a man who is fighting labor s battles at 
 the risk of his own life has some claim on your good 
 opinion. I can see that Kelly and Raymond have 
 set you against me." 
 
 "Quite the contrary, Captain Munro. Mr. Ray 
 mond is careful to speak well of you." 
 
 "Rob s a good chap, but he thinks I m a lost one, 
 all the same. You see he and Kelly both stand for 
 the thing that is going out. They think any man has 
 the same chance they have, but I tell you this union 
 that they despise is the coming order now, that 
 enough of war. I never explained myself to any c 
 before so you can know how much I think of yoi 
 You ve made all the other women I know commo 
 
 as dirt " , 
 
 Ann stopped him with a gesture. ^ You mustn t 
 
 begin on that again I will not listen." 
 
 "You have listened, and I ll make you do it again, 
 
 he said as he turned to go, and again he smiled, and 
 
 while that look was on his face his plea seemed merely 
 
 a subterfuge to win her attention and he was very 
 
 handsome at the moment. 
 
 In truth, Kelly and Raymond were watching Munro 
 
 rise to power with growing uneasiness. 
 
 247 
 
Hesper 
 
 in almost complete control of the camp, and though 
 he still deferred to the union and its committees, his 
 reckless bravery, his prompt execution of orders, and 
 his knowledge of military forms had made of him the 
 chief source of command, the only adequate regula 
 tive force on the peak. Those on the outside did not 
 hesitate to call him "the arch -devil of the district," 
 and the whole Western world was filled with his doings, 
 his reckless speeches. 
 
 His fame had fired the hearts of all the dead-shots 
 and restless spirits of the West, and from an irregular 
 squad of twenty -five or thirty men his forces had 
 risen to nearly two hundred heavily armed and hardy 
 horsemen. This squadron the reporters (with intent 
 to aid the camp) magnified into an army in their 
 despatches to the outside world, making the valley 
 leaders run to and fro in doubt and dismay, while the 
 Eastern press cynically asked "What will those un 
 accountable Westerners do next?" 
 
 Raymond, though keeping keen eyes upon Munro, 
 was unable to find cause for war in any word or act 
 of the gambler, nor could he fathom Ann s mind either 
 towards Munro or himself. She appeared to find 
 Munro diverting, and spoke of him only in that way. 
 If she understood his "home life," it made no change 
 in her attitude. It was inconceivable that a refined 
 girl should tolerate a man who passed from one igno 
 rant and vicious woman to another, and yet Ann s 
 greeting remained gracious, if not friendly. What it 
 was when they were alone, he dared not think. 
 
 As for Raymond himself, he continued to punish 
 himself by putting aside the many opportunities 
 which came to plead his own suit, and took a morbid 
 
 248 
 
Ann s Humiliation 
 
 sort of pleasure in his renunciation. "There will be 
 one man at least who will not persecute her," he said, 
 savagely, and bent his best energies to the work of de 
 veloping his mine. 
 
 One morning a great hunger to see her mastered 
 his absurd pride, and, leaving the shaft-house, he re 
 turned to the bungalow at the precise hour when she 
 came over (as he knew) to see that the rooms were 
 put in order. 
 
 Ann stood in the centre of the room overseeing 
 Perry and Louis, who were beating rugs and dusting. 
 She wore a short gray skirt and a dainty shirt-waist,, 
 and was radiant with health and good spirits. 
 
 "Good-morning," she called, brightly. "You find 
 us at the rugs again." 
 
 "You take too much trouble. I don t mind a little 
 dust, and I don t think Louis does." 
 
 "It s demoralizing to be disorderly," she answered 
 as she straightened the papers on his big plank table. 
 "I haven t many virtues, but orderliness is one of 
 them." 
 
 He stepped into the room. "Then let me help. 
 I don t like to see you wrestling with this dust. Show 
 me what to do, and I ll do it." 
 
 "No, I am well attended, and, besides, your mine 
 demands your time." 
 
 "If this rug adjustment seems important to you, 
 who have no call to do it, then it ought to be doubly 
 important to me, who ought not to neglect it. Now, 
 shall I shake this Navajo?" 
 
 In a spirit of concession she gravely said, "Yes, 
 you may take that out and beat it; no, take it^out 
 to Perry, and I ll show you something else to do," by 
 
 249 
 
Hesper 
 
 which it appeared that she wished him to stay with 
 her. "You may move this table," she commanded 
 on his return, "and take up that centre rug." 
 
 There was something deliciously intimate and do 
 mestic in this relationship, and he forgot mines and 
 mining, while she put aside all reserve and laughed 
 gleefully at his " woolling " of the rugs. "You look like 
 a big St. Bernard puppy with a shoe," she laughed, 
 as he went out with a big Navajo blanket. 
 
 "I m sorry I appear ridiculous," he replied, mightily 
 transformed by her intimate tone, "for my intent is 
 knightly I serve my queen." 
 
 "Now please don t you begin to pay compliments," 
 she exclaimed, with a slight emphasis on the word 
 "you." "I hate men who pay compliments." 
 
 " I beg your pardon I promise not to offend again; 
 only it does seem hard after the labor I had to put 
 those words together. You can t prevent my looking 
 compliments, can you?" This remark she ignored al 
 together. 
 
 At last she said: "There, everything is in order. 
 And you can go back to your work. How is your 
 mine getting on or down?" 
 
 "Very fast, everybody says; very slowly, it seems 
 to me." 
 
 "Are you so eager to be rich?" 
 
 "More eager than I care to acknowledge. I have 
 a thing to do, a sort of restitution to make, which de 
 mands money; when I strike it I will tell you, if 
 you will listen." 
 
 " I hope you will strike it soon you have awakened 
 my curiosity." She turned towards the door. "Isn t 
 it right weather? Is it always like this in winter?" 
 
 250 
 
Ann s Humiliation 
 
 "Kelly says not. Everyone calls this an extremely 
 mild winter. I am very glad of it, for your sake as 
 well as ours; it enables you to remain with us, which 
 is a great pleasure." 
 
 She started slowly towards the door. "It has been 
 a very healthful change for me. I was never so vigor 
 ous. I enjoy my work." 
 
 "I am coming to help you after this every day 
 if you will permit me." 
 
 "Oh, I don t tidy up every day, I m not so ex 
 treme as that. The rugs would go to frazzles at that 
 rate. I come only on Mondays and Fridays." 
 
 "Thank you; you may depend on me. This has 
 been the happiest hour of my life." 
 
 "I ought to come daily, after such a declaration as 
 that, but I must not waste your time. I m eager to 
 hear what you are going to do when your million 
 comes," she answered, archly. But somehow she left 
 him in doubt even then. Her tone was too open, too 
 frank. 
 
 On the afternoon of this serene day, as Ann and 
 the little mother sat sewing and chatting together, a 
 woman suddenly appeared in the open door. She 
 was large and high-colored, her hat was awry, and 
 there was a wild glare in her eyes and a look in her 
 face that froze even Nora into silence. Both stared 
 at their strange visitor in breathless apprehension till 
 she pointed her unsteady finger at Ann and hoarsely 
 cried out: 
 
 "So you re the one that s cut me out?" The mus 
 cles of one cheek contorted and her eyelid drooped like 
 that of a paralytic as she fixed a baleful look on the 
 astonished girl. After a moment s pause she stepped 
 
 2S 1 
 
Hesper 
 
 uncertainly upon the threshold and leaned against the 
 jamb. "Well, you d better watch out; if you don t 
 give him up, I ll kill you!" 
 
 "She s crazy," whispered Nora. 
 
 The intruder fumbled in her absurdly flamboyant 
 skirt, and at last drew out a pistol. " Now you better 
 hop!" she said, with menacing calmness. 
 
 Ann rose, white and calm. "Who are you? What 
 do you want?" 
 
 "Who am I? I m Jack Munro s wife, that s who I 
 am; and I want you to let him alone, that s what I 
 want. You can understand that, can t you?" Her 
 big, flabby face again contorted horribly. 
 
 Nora found tongue. "You go away, or I ll call 
 Matt." 
 
 "Call him. What do I care for him. I ain t afraid 
 of no man livin . No, sir; let him come. But I got no 
 war with you; you re all right. But that thing there, 
 with her fancy dresses I ll pink her with a bullet if she 
 don t let my Jack alone." 
 
 If the drunken creature had swept a handful of mire 
 into her face, Ann could not have been more revolted, 
 more degraded. She understood now. This was one 
 of those slattern female vultures from the street in 
 Bozle. Fixing a look of disdain on the woman, she 
 said : "You are quite mistaken. Your Jack is less than 
 nothing to me. I despise him and all he represents." 
 
 The other wildly laughed. "Ah, yes, you can talk 
 you re smooth but I know!" She began to bluster. 
 "If you hated him, why do you talk and laugh with 
 him?" I saw you yesterday." She raised the pistol. 
 "I tell you, I ll blow you into kingdom come if you 
 don t promise right now to give him up!" 
 
 252 
 
Ann s Humiliation 
 
 As she advanced, the two little lads at play just out 
 side appeared in the doorway, and the sight of them 
 steeled the little mother s heart. " Go away, darlin s," 
 she called to them. "Quick, run for dad!" 
 
 The woman turned to see who was behind her, and 
 the desperate Nora seized her by the wrist. " Give me 
 the gun," she called. 
 
 "I won t! Le go me!" shrieked the intruder, jerk 
 ing hard in the effort to free her hand. 
 
 Ann seized the other arm. "I promise," she said, 
 quietly, fixing her eyes full upon those of the infu 
 riated woman, who ceased to struggle. "Now go 
 away." 
 
 "You promise?" 
 
 "I promise!" 
 
 The woman again laughed harshly, drunkenly. "I 
 don t trust you. I ll kill you, then I know. Let go 
 me!" she called. "Let go, or I ll smash your face." 
 
 "Matt! Oh, Matt!" called Nora, as she clung des 
 perately to that terrible wrist. 
 
 Help came from an unexpected quarter. Like the 
 flash of a blue-jay s wing, Woo, the cook, rushed across 
 the room and flung himself on the mad wretch. His 
 long fingers encircled her throat. " Dlop it!" he curtly 
 commanded. "Dlop gun!" For a few moments the 
 woman struggled, then the revolver fell to the floor, and 
 Ann snatched it up. 
 
 Woo turned the gasping, hiccoughing creature to the 
 door and flung her out upon the ground. "You 
 dlunk. Go home. Stop home. Me sabbe you you 
 sabbe me," he said, as he bent above her. 
 
 Ann interposed. "Don t hurt her, Woo." 
 
 He stood beside her while she slowly regained a sit- 
 2 53 
 
Hesper 
 
 ting posture. "She belly dangelous. Me go tell Munlo. 
 She fight me kick." 
 
 The poor creature now seemed dazed and broken, 
 and began to weep, and with her tears became as ab 
 jectly pitiful, as pathetically tawdry, as she had been 
 hideous and menacing in her wrath. Ann shuddered 
 with a bitter nausea, a disorder that was half physical 
 weakness, half mental repulsion. There was some 
 thing ghastly beyond words in this creature sitting in 
 utter abandonment in her rumpled finery, which the 
 pitiless sun dissected. Stooping, she took the miser 
 able one by the arm. "Get up! You must not sit 
 there." 
 
 Slowly the woman rose, all thought of revenge swal 
 lowed up in a wave of maudlin self-pity. "You re all 
 agin me all of ye ! I guess you wouldn t like it to have 
 your husband stolen by another woman you let me 
 alone!" she said to Woo, with a flash of anger. "You 
 pig-tail! what business you got to lay hands on a 
 white lady?" 
 
 Woo s impassive face betrayed no humor, but Ann 
 thought she detected some mockery in his voice as he 
 said: "Me belly solly. You fall down, me catchee you 
 up. Me help you walk." 
 
 "I ll walk without any of your help, you yellow 
 snake!" she malevolently replied, and sat down again. 
 
 Nora turned. "Go in the house, Ann dear. She is 
 not for you to hear." 
 
 But Ann did not heed her. She had never seen an 
 intoxicated woman before, and this sudden change of 
 emotion fascinated her. It was like watching the con 
 volutions of a serpent. 
 
 The creature began to pour forth a flood of vile 
 254 
 
Ann s Humiliation 
 
 epithets, directed towards the patient Woo, who tried 
 again and again to lift her, and was in the midst of a 
 howl of wrath when Matt came round the corner of 
 the house. 
 
 "What s all this?" he asked, sharply. 
 
 The woman suddenly rose to her feet, well aware 
 that a man had arrived, and began to mumble and 
 weep again. 
 
 Nora ran to her husband. "Oh, Matt, drive her 
 away. She tried to kill us." 
 
 "Who is she ? Who are you, and what are you doing 
 here, anyway?" 
 
 The woman, quite dismayed, began to retreat. "It s 
 all right. She promised. I m ;joing now." 
 
 Woo explained. " She Munlo s wife. Belly dlunk 
 allee same clazy. Take um gun go shoot lady." He 
 pointed at Ann. "Me choke um. She fall on glound. 
 No get up. Nola (Nora) catchee gun." 
 
 Kelly followed the invader. "You go back to where 
 ye came from, and stay there, or twill be the worse for 
 ye, ye murderin omadhaun." 
 
 Ann went to her room and flung herself down upon 
 her bed in such abasement as she had never known in 
 all her life. She could not deceive herself. She had 
 brought this horrible assault upon herself by something 
 more than tolerance of Munro. In this lay the sting, 
 the stain of the woman s touch. All of Nora s hints 
 and Matt s dark looks at Munro came back to her. 
 "This is what they meant!" she exclaimed. "This is 
 the kind of women he associates with. Oh, the dis 
 grace of it!" 
 
 The woman s ignorance and tastelessness, her com 
 mon voice, her badly fitting garments, her incredible 
 
 255 
 
Hesper 
 
 baseness of speech, all came back. "Ann Rupert a 
 rfrval to that being!" Of course she had n&ver for an 
 instant directly encouraged him, and yet he had ap 
 pealed to her and she had listened. 
 
 " Rob should have warned me," she complained, her 
 mind going back to the man she could trust. At the 
 moment she could not see, or would not acknowledge 
 that Raymond had ventured as far as he dared in re 
 vealing Munro s private life. She was too angry with 
 herself and every one around her to be just. As her 
 flaming wrath died, she grew cold and bitter. "This 
 is what comes of going outside one s own proper world. 
 I shall leave the peak at once, and I hope I shall never 
 see it or hear it spoken of again." 
 
 She did not show herself at supper, and when Nora 
 came to inquire if she were ill, she was calm enough to 
 say: "Yes, I am sick with disgust. I wish you would 
 ask Matt to keep this from Mr. Raymond and Louis. 
 I want to put it all out of my mind as soon as pos 
 sible." And she covered her eyes with her fingers. 
 
 Whether Nora divined the inner quality of Ann s 
 grief and shame or not, she was tactful enough to with 
 draw without another word. 
 
xvnr 
 
 Raymond Reveals His Secret 
 
 A JN S disgust and bitterness of self -accusation wore 
 away as she faced the resolving sunlight and meas 
 ured her scars against the breast of mighty Mogalyon. 
 In the dawn of the second day the incident, having lost 
 much of its shame and terror, was debatable, and under 
 Matt s kindly counsel she reached a certain resignation. 
 
 " No one but ourselves need know what took place," 
 he said, in conclusion. Woo is no tale-bearer, and 
 when the woman herself sobers off, she ll not remember 
 a word of it. Furthermore, I warned her that Jack 
 would wring her neck if he knew what she had done. 
 So I wouldn t give another thought of it not one." 
 
 "I ll try to forget it," she promised, humbly, but she 
 could not at once put the experience out of mind. 
 She could only wait for that besotted face to fade into 
 a grisly apparition. In the end, she pitied the poor 
 woman who loved and was willing to defend her love. 
 
 Raymond was chilled by the change in Ann by a 
 return to the cold aloofness of her manner at Barnett s, 
 and was profoundly troubled by it. 
 
 He spoke to Louis about it. "Has your sister any 
 bad news?" 
 
 The boy stared. " No, I don t think so. Why?" 
 
 " She seems changed some way. She isn t so happy." 
 17 2 57 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Oh, you mustn t worry about that. She is always 
 getting bored with something or other." There wasn t 
 much comfort in this frank speech, and the keen-witted 
 lad became aware of its implications. "But she isn t 
 bored with you. She likes you now, all right. She s 
 changed her mind about you." 
 
 Raymond knew that he ought not to probe deeper, 
 but he did. "How do you know?" 
 
 "If you could hear the spiels she gives me now 
 about obeying you, and keeping at your elbow, I guess 
 you d see a difference. She used to talk against you 
 to me now all that is changed." 
 
 "Boy, you re picking up a deal of slang." 
 
 "I like it." His lips fairly smacked and his eyes 
 shone. "It says just what you want to say. Father 
 liked it, too. Don t you remember when he tried to 
 put down just what a group of hunters said?" 
 
 " It is all well enough, if you don t let it get the upper- 
 hand of you the way it has with me. I was well 
 brought up in that regard, and now listen to me," and 
 in this way he led the boy s mind into safe channels. 
 
 The day following Ann s visit, Munro rode down as 
 usual to call, and seemed amazed when Mrs. Kelly 
 greeted him coldly. "Ann does not want to see you 
 or any one else this morning you, least of all." 
 
 Munro whistled. "Another cold blast. It s sure 
 draughty up here on the side-hill, isn t it? What do 
 you suppose is the cause of it?" 
 
 Nora closed the door gently but firmly. "No mat 
 ter; she will not see you." And the puzzled vedette 
 rode thoughtfully away. 
 
 Two days later he came again, about the middle of 
 
 258 
 
Raymond Reveals His Secret 
 
 the afternoon, and, stepping into the open door, called 
 out, jauntily : " Good-afternoon, Nora. Has the weath 
 er moderated down here yet already?" 
 
 Nora looked up from her sewing, and her big eyes 
 grew stern. "Ye might knock like a gentleman, Mr. 
 Jack Munro." 
 
 "I might, indade, but as the portal stood ajar I 
 thought I might venture in. Is the Lady Ann Grey 
 receiving to-day?" 
 
 From the inner room a clear, low voice, icy as a 
 mountain-stream, replied, "Miss Rupert is not receiv 
 ing Captain Munro to-day or at any other time." 
 
 He took a step towards the door. "What have I 
 done to get a crack like that?" 
 
 The door closed with a decided jar and a bolt slid. 
 
 Munro bowed. "I understand. I take the hint; 
 but some day when you are feeling jolly I d like to 
 know what has frosted the air down here among the 
 aspens." 
 
 "I can tell you," said Nora, with the directness of a 
 woman who has known rough men all her life. "Ann 
 has learned the kind of life you live, and she despises 
 the sight of your face." 
 
 For the first time in his life Munro was confounded. 
 He stood for a moment revolving an explanation. At 
 last he said, "You mustn t take an enemy s report of 
 me." 
 
 " We do not," said Nora, calmly. " Your wife called 
 on us a couple o days ago." 
 
 "My wife!" 
 
 "The woman who calls herself your wife; tis all one 
 so far as we are concerned." 
 
 Munro frowned. "Claire called! Here?" Then, 
 259 
 
Hesper 
 
 with a leer that was characteristic of him, he added, 
 " I hope you had a pleasant chat." 
 
 "Ask her. She did all the talkin ." 
 
 Munro became very serious and very winning. " Now, 
 see here, Nora " 
 
 Call me Mrs. Kelly," she interposed, shortly. 
 
 He was not smiling now. His heart was in his voice. 
 " You tell Ann not to misjudge me. She must give me 
 a chance to square myself. I don t claim to be a saint, 
 but I ve been open and above-board with every man 
 or woman I ve ever had any dealings with. What 
 ever my past has been, I m living on a different plane 
 now. I ve cut off all my old habits for her sake. I m 
 trying to live up to her standard of things. I know 
 she s better than I am, but I can climb. My family is 
 as good as hers. I started right, and with the help of 
 a good woman I can get back to where I was." His 
 voice was tense with passion as he spoke. His jocu 
 larity, his insolence, had dropped from him, and he 
 stood revealed, the passionate, unscrupulous lover that 
 he was. "I claim the work I m doing here is worthy 
 her approval. Ask her to let me see her again." 
 
 Nora turned her face towards Ann s door, and both 
 waited in silence; but no sound came from the inner 
 room, and Nora, seeing suffering in the lines of his 
 face, said, more kindly: " Ye may as well go. The door 
 will not open to you this day nor any other." 
 
 Munro turned and went out with bowed head, and 
 Nora could not doubt the sincerity of his pain. 
 
 With all these swiftly alternating flashes of joy and 
 shame, Ann could not but exult over her recovered in 
 terest in life. It was as if the veil between herself and 
 
 260 
 
Raymond Reveals His Secret 
 
 the world of men had burned away beneath the vivid 
 sunlight of the peak. She rose each day to a closer 
 touch with the ordinary emotions of ordinary people. 
 Something within her rang in response to Raymond s 
 voice, and his eyes resting upon her gave her pleasure. 
 The whole world of human affairs freshened in interest 
 precisely as the outer world the world of peak and 
 sky grew each day more vividly beautiful. 
 
 "Living on this mountain-top," her father wrote in 
 his journal, "is like being diurnally in the proscenium- 
 box of a theatre horizon wide, in which clouds are the 
 actors, electricity the illuminator, and thunder the 
 trumpeter. It broadens a man s breast and expands 
 his mental horizon." 
 
 At times every summit seemed to flare with fire, and 
 the girl tingled with some mysterious dancing flame 
 which invaded her blood and filled her with some sub 
 tle, magnetic power. Her hair rose beneath her toilet- 
 comb as if fluffed by a crackling breeze. Her limbs 
 felt lighter, nimbler, and she grew gayer of voice and 
 readier of smile. Her work around the cabin became 
 a pleasure as her arms grew firm and her hands deft, 
 and with this return of perfect health, this content 
 with her new world, the old life receded far. Only 
 now and then, when some letter from London or Paris 
 reached her, did she give a thought to the balls, recep 
 tions, and operas she was missing. She remembered 
 this social Eastern world as an invalid recalls some 
 scene, beautiful in itself, but inextricably bound up 
 with disagreeable or painful memories. The splendors 
 of New York and Paris were grayed by the cold light 
 of her old indifferentism. 
 
 She spent many delicious nights beside the fire in 
 261 
 
Hesper 
 
 the bungalow, when, lying at ease in a big bear-skin, 
 she listened to Raymond as he read from the journal, 
 or to Matt as he related with delicious humor a chap 
 ter out of his adventurous life. 
 
 In answer to one of her correspondents she wrote: 
 
 "I am working with my hands, helping my dear little 
 friend Mrs. Kelly cook and sew. The big strike which 
 you read of does not trouble us, for we have strong pro 
 tectors. It seems to have settled into a sort of siege, any 
 way. I haven t any idea when I am to return. I came 
 West, as you know, for my brother s health, and he is so 
 much happier here I cannot think of asking him to go 
 home, and, besides, he is growing up rapidly, and I don t 
 think he would go, and I daren t leave him, at least not 
 till I make sure how the climate is going to affect him. 
 Besides, I like it here. I am a bouncing dairy-maid in 
 appearance, so don t commiserate me. When I am bored 
 here, I can go down to Cousin Don s." 
 
 One morning Ann rose to a singular light. In place 
 of the clear, golden sunshine, which had so often glori 
 fied her room, a blue-gray mist lay thick against her 
 window-pane. Raising the sash, she put her hand 
 into it it was like smoke, dry and cold! Dressing 
 hurriedly she entered the sitting-room, where Matt 
 was helping his sons to dress. 
 
 "What is going to happen?" she asked. "Does 
 this mean a storm?" 
 
 Tis a curious cloud, sure, and fairly drippin 
 with electricity. Did ye feel it in your hair? The 
 lads crackled like cats." 
 
 "Yes, indeed! But isn t it grewsome? This light 
 is so strange. Will it stay long?" 
 
 262 
 
Raymond Reveals His Secret 
 
 "No tellin . It s only wan o them clouds of the 
 peak settled down on us. It may hang about us all 
 day, or it may lift and pass away in ten minutes." 
 
 She stepped to the door and looked out with vague 
 alarm. The vapor had blotted out the world; noth 
 ing could be seen but the faint forms of one or two 
 cabins and a clump of nearby trees, and she went 
 back shivering and a little depressed. "I don t like 
 to leave the peak on such a day," she said, at last. 
 "I think I ll stay till the sun comes out. I want to 
 think of it as it has been radiant and inspiriting." 
 
 The cloud hung moveless for hours, impenetrable, 
 yet resisting. A hush was in the air as though some 
 disaster, concealed as yet, was about to be discovered. 
 About ten o clock, as she stood on the steps wondering 
 whether to cross to the bungalow or not, Raymond 
 burst from the obscurity. 
 
 " Good-morning," called Ann. " Isn t this a strange 
 effect?" 
 
 His eyes were shining, his face pale, and his voice 
 vibrant as he abruptly said, "Come with me; the 
 time has come. I want to talk with you." 
 
 "What has happened?" she asked, in alarm. 
 
 He took her by the arm. "You promised to listen; 
 you are not afraid of me, are you?" 
 
 "No, but I do not understand. Where is Louis? 
 Has anything happened to him?" 
 
 "Louis is safe with Kelly. I want to see you, be 
 cause things have happened to me. Come I must 
 see you alone." 
 
 They moved off up the path towards the overlook, 
 and, notwithstanding her brave words, the girl wavered 
 in the gust of this man s over-mastering excitement. 
 
 263 
 
Hesper 
 
 The mist closed round them, all signs of other human 
 presence disappeared, and they soon stood alone in a 
 world of gray light wherein neither sky nor horizon- 
 line appeared. All that remained of the earth was a 
 little strip of gravel beneath their feet. 
 
 Raymond stopped at last and held towards Ann a 
 small, irregular piece of rock. "Do you see that?" he 
 hoarsely inquired. 
 
 She took it wonderingly. "Is it ore?" 
 
 "Yes, and it s heavy with gold. Kelly s luck has 
 won again. We ve opened a vein that will make us 
 both rich." There was no tremor or doubt in his 
 tone. 
 
 "Oh, I m so glad!" she cried out, with unaffected 
 pleasure. "Now Mrs. Kelly can go to live in the 
 valley." 
 
 "Never mind the Kelly s now," he cried out, im 
 patiently. "I have a great deal to say to you and I 
 want to say it here. I have lacked courage; now I 
 feel you know what I mean you know what you ve 
 been to me. I m going to try and win you." His 
 manner was exultant, his voice tense with passion. 
 "I am bold to recklessness to-day." 
 
 "And all because you hold a little piece of yellow 
 rock in your hand," she wonderingly said, trying to 
 comprehend him. "You may be mistaken about the 
 gold." 
 
 "I left Kelly on his knees trying to figure out the 
 value of a car-load of the rock. Yes, all because of 
 that little lump of ore I want to say that I love you, 
 and I start on my third phase of life at this moment." 
 Some mysterious potency emanating from the piece 
 of metal seemed to flow into his veins as he shut his 
 
 264 
 
Raymond Reveals His Secret 
 
 strong, brown hand upon it. He had never been 
 humble; now he rose above her, masterful, an avowed 
 lover, and his eyes burning down into hers made her 
 shrink and shiver as if from cold. 
 
 He misread the movement . Are you warm enough ? 
 he asked, tenderly. " I hope you are, for I want to tell 
 you explain to you why I am here. Let us sit 
 here." He indicated a flat rock. "This is our only 
 opportunity; no one will know no one can see us. 
 Will you listen?" 
 
 "I will listen," she said, quietly, and took a seat, 
 drawing her cloak about her. 
 
 He took a seat a little in front, so that he could see 
 her face, which was radiant as a rose in the mist. 
 "I ve been trying to write you a letter ever since 
 you came. I wanted to set myself right with you on 
 Louis account. I love the lad, and I wanted you to 
 know that I was trying to do him good." 
 
 "I know that. I trust you now." 
 
 "That assurance is sweet to me; but I want to tell 
 you now that the only mystery in my life is this : I am 
 a West Point cadet I mean, I was 
 
 "Were you, really?" She looked at him with such 
 unmistakable relief and gladness that he faltered. 
 
 "Wait. I was only there two years. I was court- 
 martialed for breach of discipline and gross insub 
 ordination at the beginning of my third year." 
 
 Her face grew very grave. "I am sorry to hear 
 that." 
 
 He hastened on. "You mustn t judge me hastily. 
 It came on my return after furlough; that s the time 
 when the routine and discipline pinches hardest on the 
 men After two years of grind that I hated, I had a 
 
 265 
 
Hesper 
 
 visit home a delicious, free time and to get back 
 into school, back into those cold, gray barracks, was 
 like going into a strait-jacket. The first few weeks 
 after the vacation are times of disorder a period of 
 boyish deviltry ; and I took my share in it. My breach 
 of discipline was nothing more than a boy s frolic. I 
 should have been punished for it, and that would have 
 ended it. But I hated one of the officers the discipli 
 narian and when he rounded me up he rasped me 
 till I lost my head. Being a quick-tempered youth, I 
 answered him. He abused me shamefully and I struck 
 him in the face, and that ended my stay at West 
 Point." 
 
 " Oh, how foolish! How wrong!" 
 
 "No; it was not wrong. I would do it again. The 
 small sneak used a tone in addressing me which no 
 man has a right to use to another. You wouldn t 
 suppose a tone could hurt, but it did; it cut like a lash. 
 Well, that ended my career as a soldier. My home was 
 on the Ohio River, not far from Cincinnati, and my fam 
 ily still lives there. Our whole country is rich in tra 
 ditions of General Grant, and my father had selected 
 me out of all his sons to be the soldier of his family 
 you know how some men try to map their sons ca 
 reers. Well, he had trained me towards my career 
 by putting before me biographies of the great soldiers 
 and leaders of the world. How I hated those ponder 
 ous tomes! He was a proud man a vain man his 
 neighbors said, and as our house looked down and 
 over the town, so he looked down on business and 
 politics. He had a theory that the United States 
 was soon to enter on a war with all the world, and 
 that his son s great brain was needed, and that I was 
 
 266 
 
Raymond Reveals His Secret 
 
 destined to become a military genius. I considered 
 all this tommy -rot, and that I was really being educated 
 to go West and kill Apaches; but he was sincere." 
 With a glance in which humor lay, he asked, " Don t 
 you see, I couldn t go home?" 
 
 "Yes, I can see it was hard for your father. Was 
 your mother living?" 
 
 "Yes, she s living yet. I write her every week; but 
 not one word has passed between my father and me 
 since my dismissal. Naturally enough, I drifted West 
 and into cattle-ranching. I liked the excitement of it, 
 and I d been trained to ride and to shoot. I gradu 
 ally became cow-boss and foreman, and so you found 
 me, with a few thousand dollars saved up. Your com 
 ing changed every current in my life. I became am 
 bitious to do something, to be rich. I came here, I 
 bought this mine, and there shines my gold." He held 
 it towards her again. " Now I can go home. My court- 
 martial becomes a joke. Don t you see? My father is 
 human. He would not receive me, poor and dis 
 graced. With a big mine behind me the case will be 
 different." 
 
 "Are we all purchasable with gold?" she asked. 
 
 His high mood sank a little. "Don t misjudge 
 me. It s not so clear in my mind as when I met 
 you at the door. Money docs help you know 
 it does. It extends a man s power; it makes him 
 effective for good, if good is in him. I was a rancher 
 when you met me; we stood in a different relation 
 from that which we occupy now. Isn t that true?" 
 
 "Yes," she slowly answered; "but it isn t because 
 of your mine." 
 
 "What is it because of?" 
 267 
 
Hesper 
 
 "It is because you have been kind and considerate 
 of my brother." 
 
 He looked disappointed. "Is that all? I hoped 
 you liked me for myself." 
 
 "I do like you," she answered. 
 
 "Can you not love me?" 
 
 "Do not press me." She spoke sharply, a flash 
 of resentment in her eyes. 
 
 "I didn t intend to do so," he humbly replied. 
 "I fear I ve made a mess of it, just as I have with 
 all the rest of my life; but this morning when we 
 uncovered that vein it seemed as though I had a 
 chance to recover my place in the world. Now " He 
 tossed the fragment of ore over the cliff. "There s 
 nothing in it." The flippant bitterness of his final 
 words touched Ann, but she did not speak, and he 
 went on. "My excitement must have seemed funny 
 to you, but I really thought my piece of ore would 
 help me " He turned to her again with a sterner 
 line in his brow. "It is only fair to me to say that 
 I am not in any sense apologetic for my family. I 
 believe it to be as good as the best. I am proud of 
 my father, of his unyielding democracy; although a 
 natural aristocrat, he holds to the traditions that have 
 made America great. My mother is of good stock. 
 You may call me egotistic or anything you please, 
 but so far as my people are concerned I believe them 
 to be the equals of any one. I have gone wrong. 
 I ve wasted ten years of my life masquerading here 
 and there, but that is finished. Since I saw you life 
 began to be serious business with me. You smile, 
 but you know what I mean, and if you would only 
 give me time I would make you proud of me." He 
 
 268 
 
Raymond Reveals His Secret 
 
 paused and looked about him. The mist seemed light 
 ening, as if infiltrated with a golden vapor. It was in 
 motion also, and far to the westward small patches of 
 blue sky showed momentarily. "It is clearing," he 
 said, in a quiet voice, though his eyes were wet. "The 
 west wind is setting in." 
 
 The beauty of the girl as she faced him there in the 
 mist was so shining, so all-conquering in its pulse 
 and glow, that his lover s courage returned to him 
 and he spoke again, almost fiercely: "I love you, 
 and I want you to know it. Sometime I will ask you 
 to be my wife." 
 
 "You must not do that," she cried out. "You must 
 not think of it. You will only lead up to disappoint 
 ment. Don t you see how impossible it is? You are 
 of the West, I am a city dweller. Our ways of life are 
 so different." 
 
 He remained unshaken. "Do you believe in fate? 
 I do. Think how mysteriously we were brought to 
 gether on that ranch. Why did that bullet cut me 
 down at that time ? It must have been for some pur 
 pose. To me it was a warning, a portent to lead me 
 out of my foolish and trivial life. In those long weeks 
 of confinement I took account of myself. I was at 
 the bottom, but I was not dead. I said, I will climb. 
 I needed money first of all and so I set to work to win 
 it. I had a conviction that I would win, and this 
 morning when I took that piece of ore in my hand 
 I knew that nature had answered my prayer; so I 
 came to you to ask your help your love to make 
 my life worth living." 
 
 She moved uneasily. "I am not fitted to help 
 you. My whole life and training have been such 
 
 269 
 
Hesper 
 
 that I am totally unfitted for the life you would lead. 
 Please do not misread me, it is not a question of your 
 wealth or your poverty. It s my own way of life, 
 my own mind. I don t want to hurt you, but I must 
 tell you that it is impossible to think of quite im 
 possible!" and she turned away towards the cabin, now 
 half disclosed. 
 
 She was cruelly effective in the tone of this reply, 
 and the man walked silently beside her, benumbed 
 by the finality of her inflection. Not till they reached 
 the cabin did he recover his self-control. 
 
 "I accept my defeat," he said, slowly. "You are 
 perfectly right. It was pure presumption on my part." 
 
 "I did not say that, and you must not put me 
 in the attitude of scorning your your regard. I 
 simply say you are mistaken in me. I could not 
 make you happy because I don t expect to be happy 
 myself. I have come to respect you, to like you very 
 much; but you must not ask me to be your wife, for 
 that would only lead to sorrow." 
 
 "Hello!" shouted Louis. "Where you people 
 been? Have you told her, Rob?" 
 
 The door was open and Kelly and the two lads 
 were on the floor picking at a small sack of ore. Mrs. 
 Kelly looked up at Ann, laughing, with tears on her 
 cheeks. " I don t believe it, not one word of it! And 
 if it s true, Rob, I want you to keep it for us." 
 
 "Yes," said Kelly, "I ve been of use to you in 
 finding it, now do you be of use to me in keeping it." 
 
 "I will, Matt!" said Raymond, and the two men 
 shook hands on a new compact. Both Matt and Nora 
 were too engrossed with their new-found riches to ob 
 serve the deep sadness of Raymond s face. 
 
 270 
 
Raymond Reveals His Secret 
 
 "Now," said Kelly, "watch out for Curran; he ll 
 bate us out of it if he can. I depend on you to stand 
 off the lawyers and the gamblers." 
 
 "The mist is rising," called Ann from the door 
 way. 
 
 As she spoke a tremendous report arose from the 
 obscurity where the fog still clung. 
 
 "Now what was that?" queried Matt, and all stood 
 transfixed with surprise and vague apprehension. 
 
 Another and duller report followed one that 
 shook the ground. Kelly rushed to the door just in 
 time to see a vast balloon-shaped cloud of smoke rise 
 majestically above the mist, bulging into the blue 
 sky above. 
 
 "Now they ve done it!" he called, in a curiously 
 reflective tone that was almost comic. 
 
 "What was that?" asked Ann. 
 
 "Some crazy divil under cover of the mist has 
 dynamited the Red Star shaft-house." 
 
 Even as they waited, listening to faint cries, the 
 wind swept the hill-side clear and Kelly s fears were 
 verified. In ruins and on fire the Red Star shaft- 
 house and mill lay scattered over its dump, and 
 towards it the whole camp seemed hastening. 
 
 "Oh, the unholy jackasses!" muttered Kelly. 
 "They ve opened the door to the witches now. Come, 
 Rob. We may be the next to suffer." 
 
 Raymond, as he was about to follow his partner, 
 turned and said to Ann: "I hope you will not let 
 my folly lose me what I had gained your friend 
 ship." 
 
 "You have lost nothing by your frankness. I am 
 glad to have had you tell me so much of your story." 
 
 271 
 
Hesper 
 
 "I promise not to return to it," he answered, and 
 the finality of his voice sent a little pang of regret to 
 the girl s heart. Of course it was best; but, after all, 
 she would not have him put aside too easily the love 
 that had shone in the depth of his quiet eyes. 
 
XIX 
 
 Peabody Visits Sky-Town 
 
 THE blowing up of the Red Star mill and shaft- 
 house shook the entire district with its possibilities 
 of further violence, and concealed beneath its dust and 
 smoke the rich discovery in the Kelly mine. Even faith 
 ful Jim Dolan did not know of it for several days, and 
 the partners had time to calculate chances and plan for 
 the buying-in of the property. 
 
 The din of controversy was deafening. The labor 
 leaders disclaimed all knowledge of the outrage, and 
 roundly condemned it for the foolishly destructive act 
 it really was. Kelly marched in among them like a 
 grizzly bear, and stormed thunderously. "You are 
 responsible," he growled. "You sit here and send out 
 appeals to the world while these hounds work their 
 will. Where was Munro and his regulators?" 
 
 "They can t be everywhere," explained Carter. " No 
 one supposed such a thing could happen in the day 
 light." 
 
 "Ye re all a set o chicken-heads. Ye ve created a 
 power ye can t control. I give ye notice that if ye 
 don t go after the thieves that did this work, I ll or 
 ganize a vigilance committee and take charge of the 
 whole gang of yez." And he strode out of the room, 
 leaving the officers of the union disgraced and angry, 
 is 273 
 
Hesper 
 
 He confessed to Raymond on his return that it was a 
 foolish action. 
 
 "It was, Matt. You couldn t have done a worse 
 thing. A large number of these Dago miners already 
 consider us their enemies, and this will confirm them. 
 We might as well take steps to-night to get our party 
 of the third part in some sort of organization." 
 
 All this excitement and worry aided Raymond in 
 tiding over the day, but when midnight came, and the 
 committee had slipped away into the night, his sense of 
 loss and a feeling of loneliness took possession of him. 
 Ann had announced her intention to return to the 
 Springs at the end of the week, and though she had 
 vaguely promised to visit the peak again, Raymond 
 was not deceived. " She is leaving to escape daily con 
 tact with me. Our good comradeship is gone forever; * 
 and with this conviction the gleam of gold in his ore 
 grew dim and his confidence in the future less buoyant. 
 
 "She s quite right," he admitted to his better judg 
 ment. "A mining-camp is no place for her, or for 
 Nora. Since the destruction of that mill it is even less 
 desirable than before as a place of residence." 
 
 While on his way to the bungalow the following af 
 ternoon, he met Munro accompanying a stranger, a big, 
 blond, handsome fellow in a gray travelling-suit and 
 soft hat. His face was plump and his brown beard 
 close-clipped, and, though he realized that he was more 
 or less in durance, his eyes were smiling. 
 
 Munro called out, "Rob, do you know this chap?" 
 
 "I do not." 
 
 Munro turned to his prisoner. " I thought you were 
 lying." 
 
 The stranger remained untroubled. "I didn t say 
 274 
 
Peabody Visits Sky-Town 
 
 I knew Mr. Raymond, I merely said that I wanted you 
 to take me to him. Mr. Raymond, I am Wayne Pea- 
 body, an old-time friend of Miss Rupert. Will you 
 please explain to this knight of the hills that I am in no 
 wise interested in his strike?" 
 
 Raymond looked at him keenly. So this was the 
 Eastern lover this fat, fair man. "I think I have 
 heard of you," he began, slowly. 
 
 Louis arrival relieved the awkwardness of the mo 
 ment. "Hello, Mr. Peabody, how did you get here?" 
 
 Peabody caught at the boy s hand. "Well, well, 
 Louis; I m glad to see you. You save my life. How 
 is Ann?" 
 
 41 Fine! You ought to see her work. She s brown as 
 oak. Come on, I ll take you to her. Gee! she ll be 
 glad to see you." 
 
 As Peabody excused himself and made off, Munro, 
 with a world of meaning in his tone, softly swore. 
 
 " Well, by if I d known that, I would have killed him 
 
 and laid him away under a little rock. I wouldn t mind 
 your getting her, but if that fat chump thinks he can 
 come in here and run off our choicest one, he s mis 
 taken. She turned me down flat the other day, and it 
 hurt. It hurts worse now that I ve seen the other 
 man. I really hoped you were the winner." 
 
 "She s out of our world, Jack," replied Raymond, 
 and a large part of his resentment of Munro s imper 
 tinence vanished with the knowledge that he was a 
 fellow-sufferer in despair. 
 
 Munro went on, gravely: "She had me going, sure 
 thing. Why, I stopped drinking just as I told you 
 I would and I cut off Claire Say, boy, that was a 
 severe job] She raised dust for a day or two, but when 
 
 275 
 
Hesper 
 
 the queen of heaven gave me my jolt, I said w at-the- 
 good, and slipped into my old ways." He made a queer 
 little gulp as though swallowing a pill. " Well, Claire s 
 happy, anyhow. Do you remember what old Coal-oil 
 Sam used to say? Life s a curious concatenation of 
 categorical coincidents. Think of us strutting around 
 the parade-ground in front of the seats of the visitors 
 with intent to beat out old Grant, and here we are. 
 I m policing a mining-camp, and you re pawing dirt 
 like a woodchuck. What a fall is there, my brother! " 
 
 "Don t dig up mouldy bones, Jack." 
 
 " Do you know, that s the comical twist to it. I like 
 to think over those days. I d like to go back. I m 
 told we re a tradition there now as the men who 
 swatted a tac. That s my one bitter memory, that I 
 let you do the swatting. I ought to have wallered 
 him." 
 
 Raymond did not enjoy Munro s tone, and changed 
 the subject. "What are you going to do now?" 
 
 Munro ceased to laugh. "I am going to cinch this 
 whole camp a little tighter from this on. I m going to 
 turn back every non-union miner. All you fellows 
 who are friendly can go on working just the same, but 
 your men must put themselves on record." 
 
 Raymond s face settled into stern lines. "Jack, I 
 don t want to be mixed up in another man s fight. We 
 are on good terms with our hands they re a lot of can 
 tankerous American citizens, anyway, and can t be co 
 erced. I warn you not to monkey with our plant. 
 We re good friends now, but don t try to round-up 
 Kelly and our wild bunch, or you ll meet trouble." 
 
 Munro laughed. "I ll fight shy, old man, so far as 
 I m concerned, but these Dagoes and Poles are getting 
 
 276 
 
Peabody Visits Sky-Town 
 
 watch-eyed, and if they stampede, they ll run over 
 somebody. All they know is to herd, and they con 
 sider themselves a sort of outpost of the socialistic 
 camp, and when they hear that the Red Star gang are 
 going to run in a car-load of professional strike-break 
 ers, they re going crazy. You don t believe in me 
 and my cow-boys, but the time may come when 
 you ll see that I m about the only commander in this 
 camp." 
 
 " I see that now, Jack; that s why I m talking to you. 
 But you ve started on a line of action that means war 
 with organized society. You had no call to join those 
 jackasses who ran Mackay out of camp. It was none 
 o your funeral had nothing to do with the question 
 of wages." 
 
 Munro grinned. "He was such an ape." 
 
 " Yes, but it started you wrong. Now, I don t know 
 who blew up the shaft-house, but if you do, your best 
 plan is to cut those outlaws out and turn them back to 
 the authorities." 
 
 "I don t know a thing. Of course the union had 
 nothing to do with it. It was done by a few hot-heads 
 full of peaches. These mine-owners have got to give 
 up their nine-hour scheme. We ve got em dead to 
 rights, for I can drive every non-union man out of 
 camp if necessary, and my advice to you is, have your 
 men march up and sign our rolls double-quick." 
 
 "They can do as they please about that. I will 
 bring no pressure to bear on them, but I d like to 
 ask you, as a friend, not to make it any harder than 
 you can help for Kelly & Raymond. We ve got all 
 we can stagger under now, and the worst thing that 
 can happen to us is delay. We ve opened our vein 
 
 277 
 
Hesper 
 
 and we re going to buy in our mine inside of six weeks 
 if nothing prevents." 
 
 "I ll do what I can, old man, but Kelly mustn t 
 go to making any more of his cracks about the union. 
 They re getting ugly - tempered up there, and must 
 be handled like glass." 
 
 Raymond walked on to his cabin with a heavier 
 heart than he had carried since he left Barnett s 
 home. Part of this was due to Munro s warning, 
 but the larger part of it sprang from his meeting with 
 Peabody, who was not at all the sort of citizen he 
 had expected Ann s Eastern lover to be. He was a 
 man of power, dignity, and decision, not an erratic 
 idler like Barnett, and his air of quiet authority 
 sprang from a strong personality securely placed in 
 the world. 
 
 Louis came back to the cabin with a sly smile on 
 his face. "What did you think of Mr. Peabody?" 
 
 Raymond strove to be jocose. "He ll lose some 
 of his fat if he climbs round these hills. What s he 
 here for, anyway?" 
 
 Louis dropped on a bunk and his face grew grave. 
 "Darn him, he s here to get Ann to go back to New 
 York. I don t go, I tell you that!" 
 
 "Maybe she won t go?" 
 
 "I m afraid she will," the boy gloomily replied. 
 "He s got some kind of a drag on her. He s been 
 trying to get her, oh, a long time." 
 
 Raymond s voice was calm as he asked, "What is 
 his business?" 
 
 "Lawyer. He s rich, too. Ann wants us both to 
 come over to the Kellys to dinner. I don t want 
 to go. Do you?" 
 
 278 
 
Peabody Visits Sky-Town 
 
 "She s the captain," answered Raymond. "I 
 reckon we d better spruce up a bit." 
 
 "It makes me tired," the boy went on. "I wanted 
 her to marry you and then we could all live out 
 here." 
 
 A half -hour later Ann knocked. "Is any one at 
 home?" 
 
 Raymond flung open the door. "We are all at 
 home." 
 
 Ann introduced Peabody, who stood by her side, 
 and the two men shook hands rather coldly, while 
 she said to Raymond, "Can you take care of Mr. Pea- 
 body for the night?" 
 
 "With pleasure," Raymond politely replied. 
 
 " And will you come over to dinner? You need have 
 no more scruples now that Woo is with us. We are 
 ladies of leisure, and, besides, I have made a new pud 
 ding." 
 
 "You may expect us," said Raymond. "We let 
 none of your puddings escape." 
 
 "You have subtle ways of flattering," she laughing 
 ly responded as she turned away. 
 
 Peabody was not in the least aware that Raymond 
 stood in any lover-like relation to Ann, and his man 
 ner was direct and hearty. He was, indeed, full of 
 talk. 
 
 "This is the most extraordinary development, this 
 town on a mountain. What did that fellow mean 
 by trying to turn me back?" 
 
 "I suppose he took you for a spy." 
 
 "A spy! What do you think of that, Louis? If 
 he had known my office was in Wall Street, I assume 
 that my troubles would have thickened. I don t un- 
 
 279 
 
Hesper 
 
 derstand why you gold-miners should be silver men. 
 Yes, thank you, I would like to wash." 
 
 Raymond put his toilet articles at the Eastern 
 man s disposal. "It s a rough outfit." 
 
 "Don t apologize. A man in a camp, twelve thou 
 sand feet in the air, can t afford to pick and choose." 
 
 At the dinner-table Ann studied the two men with 
 highly amused interest. Peabody, easy, assured, and 
 calmly tolerant, did the talking, while Raymond lis 
 tened, a little sullenly, it seemed to Ann. The New- 
 Yorker was most admirable in his consideration for 
 Mrs. Kelly and his interest in everything about him, 
 and yet he did not stir the one he hoped to please. 
 He had always been commonplace to her, and was 
 conspicuously so here on the mountain-top. 
 
 Kelly towered at the head of the table, clad in a 
 dark-brown corduroy house-coat and blue flannel shirt, 
 his grizzled head uplifted, a roguish shine in his half- 
 hid, piercing eyes. Raymond ate in silence, replying 
 only when directly interrogated. Louis, watchful for 
 criticism against his beloved mountains, really found 
 no cause for warfare, and Ann, possessed of a per 
 verse desire to disclose some hidden trait in Peabody, 
 touched on the prejudices of each man. 
 
 "Mr. Peabody comes direct from the money-chang 
 ers, Matthew," she said to Kelly, "and can give you 
 the latest news of the gold conspiracy." 
 
 "Can he? Well, I should like to have him tell me 
 what he thought of that Englishman who took a walk 
 through Wall Street a day or two ago and said, The 
 faces I see here are criminal. Are they so?" 
 
 Peabody hastened to be large and tolerant. "To 
 me the faces are worn and anxious, not criminal. 
 
 280 
 
Peabody Visits Sky-Town 
 
 The crush there is tremendous, and men are pale and 
 haggard. I am an exception," he added, beamingly. 
 "But I suppose the men who gather there are of the 
 accipitral type, especially the hangers on, the curb 
 stone speculators. But, after all, it s the place where 
 things are done it is the heart, the financial heart, of 
 the nation." 
 
 Kelly s eyes lost their twinkle. " I grant you things 
 are done there, and great things; but are they for the 
 good of the people, or are they just piracy? Tis easy 
 to rob a man at a distance. If I can sit here and 
 steal the wages of a hundred men in San Francisco, 
 my sleep is untroubled; tis too impersonal, that Wall 
 Street robbery, there s no chance for pity or remorse. 
 Tis like our friends who sit below in the valley and 
 try to regulate the hours of labor here on the peak." 
 
 Peabody was glad to turn the conversation into this 
 channel. "I found them very much excited down in 
 the valley. Indeed, I was warned not to attempt to 
 come here; but I argued that if Ann could live here 
 safely " 
 
 "Ah, but she s wan of us," said Kelly. 
 
 Ann bowed. "I m one of the toilers. Assistant 
 cook and second girl." 
 
 "We ve adopted her," pursued Kelly. "And Rob 
 there is her defender in time of trouble." 
 
 Peabody turned to Raymond with undisturbed mind, 
 "That is very good of you. The Barnetts told me of 
 your kindness to Louis." 
 
 In all that followed he maintained this same large 
 view, and Kelly grew to a manifest liking for the 
 man. 
 
 Peabody did not attempt to conceal his intimate re- 
 281 
 
Hesper 
 
 lationship with Ann and every tone of his voice when 
 addressing her was torture to Raymond, who began 
 to talk at last in self-defence, addressing himself to 
 Mrs. Kelly as his hostess, leaving Ann free to listen 
 unreservedly to her Eastern suitor. The girl under 
 stood this mood in Rob, and it touched her. 
 
 As they all re-entered the bungalow, Peabody rub 
 bed his hands together in delight. "By Jove! this is 
 something like ! This chimney carries me back to my 
 hunting - lodge in the Maine woods. Do you hunt. 
 Raymond?" he asked, and the use of Raymond s name 
 in that way indicated his liking. 
 
 "I used to. That bear-skin Miss Rupert is sitting 
 upon is one of my trophies." 
 
 "Is it really! He s superb; where did you get 
 him?" 
 
 "In the Needle Range." 
 
 Peabody was in the midst of a story when a knock 
 at the door announced a visitor. 
 
 "Come in!" shouted Raymond, and Munro entered, 
 entirely at his ease, graceful, jocose, making no ac 
 count of the looks of surprise on the faces of Ray 
 mond and his guests. 
 
 "Remain where you are!" he called. "The house 
 is entirely surrounded, and no non-union laborer will 
 be allowed to escape." 
 
 Raymond mechanically gave him a chair, while 
 Kelly nodded curtly. Ann bowed and said, "Good- 
 evening, Captain Munro." 
 
 Peabody alone smiled. "Ah, you were my guide 
 up the hill! My guard as well as guide I take it." 
 
 "I d rather have been your executioner." 
 
 "For what reason?" 
 
 282 
 
Peabody Visits Sky-Town 
 
 "Had I known you were coming to get the queen 
 of the peak your blood had stained the heather." 
 
 "Good Heavens, what an escape! Am I quite safe 
 now?" he asked of Kelly. 
 
 This fooling over, they took seats, and the conversa 
 tion ran to the prospects of the camp, and Peabody, 
 with a feeling that Kelly was the man of richest ex 
 perience, persuaded him to tell something of his won 
 derful career as a trailer of golden pathways, while 
 Louis lay at his feet in the blaze of the fire and lis 
 tened as all the others listened. Peabody, looking 
 round the room, was moved to repeat, most fervently: 
 "Now, this is jolly incredibly jolly. Will you be 
 lieve it, they told me you were all murdering thieves 
 up here in the clouds. I was especially warned against 
 Munro s pickets. At this moment even they have 
 no terror to me." 
 
 "There are others," said Munro, with a sly inflec 
 tion, "who would charge a picket -line to see Miss 
 Rupert s face lit by this fire." 
 
 Raymond sat in silence, scorning to take part in this 
 flattery, while Ann awoke to a delicious excitement 
 in the situation. Before her sat three very direct 
 and forceful lovers regarding each other like tigers, 
 instinct with hate, yet masking it, pretending to 
 honor and good-will, while bitter jealousy raged be 
 neath. She palpitated with unwonted, wicked joy, 
 and never had she seemed more alluring to her lovers 
 than at that moment. She provoked Munro to the 
 most audacious sayings merely to see Peabody stare, 
 and she flung an appealing word at Raymond now 
 and again as if valuing his opinion above all others, 
 though he made but curt answers, returning to his fire, 
 
 283 
 
Hesper 
 
 mystified by her gayety and by her subtlety of by 
 play. Munro, so far from being depressed by Pea- 
 body s presence, was carried quite beyond his usual 
 self, and his reckless compliments had a keen edge. 
 In the end, Ann regretted her encouragement of his 
 audacity. 
 
 Raymond realized that he was playing a poor part in 
 this game, but, try as he might, he could not bend his 
 tongue to any word worth saying. He was consider 
 ing Ann s action, trying to fathom her intent. Her 
 laughter and her shining eyes revealed to him an emo 
 tional exaltation of which he feared to know the cause. 
 No one else had ever been able to make her eyes sparkle 
 and her cheeks glow like this. He tried to be just to 
 Peabody. "He is suited to her. He comes from the 
 same walk of life, and is a mighty fine chap, physically 
 and mentally." And the realization of his madness 
 in the mist sent a burning flush of shame into his 
 face. 
 
 Ann divined something of what was passing in his 
 mind, but she did not realize how deep his depression 
 was, for his face seemed stern rather than sad, and the 
 light concealed the tell-tale stain on his brow. 
 
 His position as host enabled him to come off fairly 
 well in his struggle, for when some intimate glance or 
 word passed between Ann and Peabody and troubled 
 him too sharply, he was able to rise and poke the fire 
 or pass into the next room. His desire to be alone 
 became at last insupportable. 
 
 His guests rose at last, and Ann and Peabody went 
 away together. This cut deeper than all else, and 
 Louis, who took a very pessimistic view of the whole 
 affair, did not comfort him. " She ll go back with him. 
 
 284 
 
Peabody Visits Sky-Town 
 
 I can see that," he said. "And she ll want me to go, 
 too, but I won t." 
 
 "He ll not get away with her if a nine-inch gun is 
 any bar," remarked Munro, in more than half serious 
 ness. " Still, it s a fair test," he added. " She has had 
 a chance to size us up, and if she can cotton to a pink- 
 and-white slob like that, after seeing a couple of good 
 ones like Rob and myself why, it s her own bet and 
 her own coin. I m still in the ring, however, as long as 
 I can hear her voice." 
 
 Raymond could not jest, but he could be fair-minded. 
 "Why should she consider any man on the hill, or in 
 the West, for that matter? See what this lawyer of 
 fers a good home in the big city, her native town. 
 Right here the West takes a second defeat from Wall 
 Street." 
 
 "Oh, I don t know. You never did understand 
 women. She may be just iooling with him to let us 
 know she s nobody s slave. How long has she known 
 this lump of Herkimer County butter?" he asked of 
 Louis. 
 
 Raymond stopped him. "There s a point where 
 joking is barred, Jack. It s none of our business when 
 or where or how she met him. We ve got all the in 
 formation we re entitled to right now." 
 
 Munro went away outwardly jocular but inwardly 
 sadder than he had ever been in his life, for his love for 
 Ann was mingled with respect for her mind, her char 
 acter. Her calm and kindly attitude towards him that 
 night had been a revelation to him. The women he 
 had known would have been peppery, awkwardly si 
 lent, or nervously excited. She seemed amused, and 
 her clear, searching eyes had abashed him. Her large 
 
 285 
 
Hesper 
 
 tolerance of him, her easy forgetfulness of what he had 
 -cried to be to her, depressed him and in the end wound 
 ed his self-conceit. 
 
 "Jack Munro," he said to himself, in a voice of bitter 
 scorn, "do you know what you are? You re a yaller 
 dog in August." 
 
 Peabody, on his return, found Raymond sitting alone 
 by his fire. Louis was deep in slumber. 
 
 That man Munro is an interesting fellow. What do 
 you know about him?" asked the lawyer. 
 
 " Not very much. He s rather secretive. He came 
 here from Sylvanite, I believe." 
 
 " His jokes about getting under my ribs were a little 
 grewsome. He struck me as just about mediaeval 
 enough to do it under proper conditions. Tell me 
 about yourself. Ann has only praise for you. I want 
 to thank you most cordially for your kindness to her 
 and to the boy." 
 
 "I m not sure my influence has been a blessing to 
 her or to the boy. Louis struck up a great friendship 
 for me and followed me here, and that forced Miss 
 Rupert to come. It is no place for a woman of her re 
 finement, and I ve felt all along a kind of indirect re 
 sponsibility for her presence here. The boy ought to 
 get out, too, for we are on the edge of war up here." 
 "You Western fellows are mediaeval" (this seemed 
 to be one of his pet words) ; "that s the reason you ap 
 peal to this boy. He s in the doublet-and-dagger stage 
 of development. It seems a pity to take him away so 
 long as he is so vigorous. He s much improved. Less 
 nervous and more manly." 
 
 "I doubt if he can be persuaded to leave, 
 me to-night that he wouldn t go." 
 
 286 
 
Peabody Visits Sky-Town 
 
 " Well, I m glad I met you, Mr. Raymond. I shall feel 
 easier about the boy in case we do go East without him." 
 
 These cordial, frank, and manly words struck an icy 
 chill to Raymond s heart. It was all over then. She 
 had consented to go, and his life was laid waste. He 
 rose unsteadily. 
 
 " You must be tired. Shall I show you your bunk?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " I believe I will turn in," responded Peabody. 
 
 When the young miner returned to his seat beside 
 the fire a big lump of pain filled his throat, and he 
 owned a boyish desire to fling himself down on the 
 floor and sob. He lost all shame of his weakness at 
 length, and went out into the night to be alone with 
 the deepest grief of his life. 
 
 The darkness outside enabled him to close his eyes 
 to outward things and fasten them upon interior scenes 
 of haunting light and beauty wherein this queenly girl 
 was the radiant centre. He deliberately called them 
 before him the picture she made on that first day at 
 the ranch when, with heavenly pity in her face, she 
 bent above him as he lay wounded. He dwelt long 
 upon her as she appeared in evening-dress, her con 
 ventional guise, haughty, impenetrable, self - poised. 
 Sweeter remembrances followed remembrances of her 
 girlish gayety in those intimate hours when they rode 
 together or worked about the bungalow together, and 
 these were the most deeply moving of all, and when 
 he realized that they were gone, never to return again, 
 he groaned like one in physical torture. 
 
 "Oh, my God! I wish I had never seen her!" And 
 with that involuntary cry his tears came and he wept 
 unashamed. 
 
 287 
 
Hesper 
 
 When he returned to his cabin the fight was ended. 
 He was outwardly calm. He went to his bed resolute 
 to conceal his hurt. Longing for morning, that he 
 might fling himself into the toil of the mine and so for 
 get the clutching hand at his throat. 
 
XX 
 
 Ann Sends Peabody Away 
 
 HE did not see Ann at breakfast next morning, but 
 sent word by Louis that important work in the 
 mine detained him, and the girl was hurt by the neglect. 
 It was not a cheerful going at best, for Mrs. Kelly was 
 broken-hearted and frankly pessimistic. 
 
 " You ll never come back," she said. "You ll forget 
 the Kellys you ll forget you ever lived in a log-hut 
 and swept floors." 
 
 "Why, Nora, I m only going to Valley Springs. 
 Maybe I ll come back, and soon." 
 
 "You say so, but you are going far. I have two 
 eyes and I can see. You ve broken Rob s heart, too. 
 I know why he isn t here this morning he couldn t 
 abear to see you go, and no more can I." 
 
 Ann s own heart received a wrench at these final 
 words. " I haven t meant to give you pain. I ve tried 
 to help you." 
 
 "You re too beautiful, darling. You shouldn t go 
 among poor people like us. Our love grows round you, 
 and when you go you tear our tendrils off and it hurts." 
 
 The tears came to Ann s eyes. Never had such sin 
 cerity, such directness of affection touched her. "I ll 
 come back. I promise you I ll come back, unless you 
 come to the Springs to live." 
 19 289 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Come back!" shouted Kelly, who had entered the 
 door. "Why, sure thing! She can t keep away. 
 D ye think Louis is going to leave the peak? Not for 
 long. He has just been telling me when to expect him." 
 Somehow, Kelly s tone helped Ann as well as Nora. 
 
 "I am not going bacK to New York till spring." 
 
 "Let me tell you something," Kelly resumed, with 
 ponderous effort at being confidential. "Your Wall 
 Street lawyer is all right. He s a man of substance, 
 but Rob is going to sluice a stream of gold out o this hill 
 that 11 make the lawyer chap look like a worn dime 
 now mind what I say." 
 
 Ann laughed. "I ll remember; and now, you dear 
 people, good-bye," and she looked back at the cabin 
 with dim eyes. 
 
 They reached the Springs without accident and were 
 greeted as if they had escaped from a robber s cave. 
 Mrs. Barnett and her friends were all greatly excited 
 over the events of the high country, which had been 
 distorted, magnified by the shadows of the clouds, till 
 they were of the most monstrous proportions. Munro 
 was already a bogie a sort of cow-boy Napoleon 
 and Ann laughed at the questions hurled at her head 
 by the Barnetts when they found she had known and 
 liked the captain of the patrol. 
 
 " Not at all," she replied. " I found him very amus 
 ing. No, he was not drunk, and I never saw any weap 
 ons upon him. Mr. Raymond considers him a dan 
 gerous force because of his zeal to serve the miners. I 
 haven t any very clear idea of the situation, and, as I 
 never went up to Saloon Row, as Matt calls the village, 
 I saw very little of the disorder. I did see Matt when 
 he rode at the sheriff s side to quell the mob, and he 
 
 290 
 
Ann Sends Peabody Away 
 
 was magnificent. Yes, it is true that Mr. Raymond is 
 the leader of the free miners and that he and Mr. 
 Munro are friends. Yes, Kelly and Raymond have 
 made a strike, but they are unable to get the men 
 they need to work their mine." 
 
 It seemed good to get back to wardrobes and a bath 
 room and to the deft ministry of servants, and when 
 Ann looked out of her window that night and watched 
 a portentous gray cloud closing round Mogalyon she 
 breathed a deep sigh of relief and pleasure. This 
 world of competence and all comforts, these rooms 
 with their dainty furnishings, seemed as far from the 
 life she had led at the Kelly s as the earth from the 
 moon. It was incredible that she had liked it and 
 impossible that she should ever return to it. 
 
 Barnett came home looking hard and worn, quite 
 unlike his jovial self, but he greeted Ann warmly. " I 
 am glad to see you here. I want to know all about 
 things up there. . Where is Peabody?" 
 
 Mrs. Earnett replied: "Dressing for dinner. Hurry, 
 Don, you re late." 
 
 After he left them Ann remarked to Mrs. Barnett, 
 "He looks worried." 
 
 " He is worried to death. He insists on trying to be 
 the head and front of this citizen s committee of safety. 
 He s chairman of it and is away all hours of the day 
 and night. Do you know the whole city is patrolled?" 
 
 "Patrolled! What for?" 
 
 So that the miners cannot come rushing down here 
 some night and burn us all up." 
 
 This amused Ann. "How silly! Why should they 
 do that?" 
 
 "Because we mine -owners live here. It is not a 
 291 
 
Hesper 
 
 laughing matter to us. Word has come to us through 
 reliable sources that your nice friend Munro has planned 
 a raid, and every young man in the town has been en 
 rolled in the home guard. The women are so ner 
 vous they daren t be seen outside their yards after 
 dusk. Everything has stopped. No one is giving any 
 entertainments. The theatres are empty. You never 
 saw such a condition. It s dreadful!" 
 
 "It would be dreadful if it were true, but I ve been 
 living up there in the midst of things, and I ve never 
 heard a word of this raid. I haven t once been scared, 
 though it was exciting the day I went shopping." 
 
 "Yes, but you were protected by the chief devil of 
 all this man Munro. He s probably in love with you. 
 Don said he was." 
 
 Ann laughed outright at this. "Jeannette, you 
 people have been eating too much lobster-salad and 
 ice-cream; you re all suffering from nightmare. There 
 isn t a word of truth in what you ve been saying." 
 
 When Don came down she continued to mock, and 
 all through dinner she perversely defended Munro, and 
 listened to Barnett s boastings of what they were go 
 ing to do to open their mines, with entire lack of sym 
 pathy. 
 
 "I don t pretend to comprehend what you men call 
 business," she said 1 , "but it seems to me that rather 
 than waste millions on a useless war I would allow the 
 miners a few more cents pay, just as a matter of econo 
 my." 
 
 "But it s the principle of the thing. We don t in 
 tend to be dictated to by these red-neckers. They 
 must come to our terms." 
 
 "My grandmother would say that s like biting off 
 292 
 
Ann Sends Peabody Away 
 
 your nose to spite your face. Mr. Raymond is working 
 right along." 
 
 "I ve been deceived in him," Barnett burst out, in 
 terrupting her. "He and Kelly are playing a two- 
 faced game with us." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, they are not!" she hotly an 
 swered. "They are doing just what you ought to do. 
 They re paying their men good wages and treating them 
 properly." 
 
 "When did you become a labor advocate?" he 
 sneered. 
 
 "Don! Don!" warned his wife. "Don t mind him, 
 Ann. Since this trouble came on he s lost his head. 
 I m afraid to have him come home, he s so irritable. 
 He s perfectly savage." 
 
 Peabody put in a word. " If I might venture, I don t 
 know a thing about it, except what Munro and Ray 
 mond told me, but it seems to me Ann is right. As I 
 understand it, these chaps are contending that in mak 
 ing this change from three shifts of eight hours each, 
 you shouldn t lay off a lot of men, and put the rest on 
 two shifts of nine hours each at eight-hours pay. Isn t 
 that it?" 
 
 "Well, yes; but, you see, it s really a new system 
 altogether." 
 
 " But in the change you don t intend to accidentally 
 pay thirty cents or fifty cents or whatever it may be, for 
 that extra hour?" 
 
 " The pay for a day s work will remain as it is now." 
 
 Peabody smiled. "A mere shuffle. Come, be 
 frank. You fellows have fixed up a new deal in which 
 the cards go against the miners. They protest, and 
 now it is a matter of gun-play, as you say out here. 
 
 293 
 
Hesper 
 
 Barnett broke into a grin, but he was irritated. 
 "Have you taken out a brief for the miners?" 
 
 "Not at all. As the world goes now, wages are a 
 result of bluff. You try to hire labor as cheaply as 
 possible, and labor tries to sell its brawn as dearly as 
 possible. It s a very pretty fight, and I m an on-looker. 
 Whether your bull gores the miners ox or no is none 
 of my affair, but it amuses me to see a faddist and a 
 sport like Don Barnett involved in a far-reaching 
 question of labor and capital." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett looked relieved. "I wish you d talk 
 him out of it, Wayne." 
 
 Peabody, with a lawyer s pleasure, went on with his 
 analysis. "But there s a third party here which is of 
 more interest to me than either you or the unionists, 
 and that is Raymond s party of the third part. They 
 are upholding the old traditions that a man with an 
 open door behind him cannot be coerced. These small 
 operators who refuse to come into your combination 
 are largely made up of the old-time miners and pros 
 pectors, so Kelly tells me. They are standing clear for 
 the present, but if you crowd them to the wall, they ll 
 take hold, and then, as Kelly said, you ll have a wild 
 cat by the tail. I wish I could wait and see how you 
 come out, but I ve got a big case on for the i6th and 
 must be in Washington." 
 
 "The whole thing will be settled in a day or two," 
 declared Barnett. "When we go up there again, it 
 will be with a thousand men and fully armed." 
 
 "That is a harsh arbitrament," said Peabody, with a 
 gravity which was almost solemnity. " I would advise 
 you to settle this case out of court." 
 
 Ann interposed. "I think you both take too seri- 
 294 
 
Ann Sends Peabody Away 
 
 cms a view of the whole thing. , Mr. Raymond laughs 
 
 over it." 
 
 "Mr. Raymond was probably trying to keep you 
 unalarmed," answered Peabody. " And now that you 
 are out of it, I do not think it well for either you or 
 Louis to return to it." 
 
 Louis uttered indignant outcry. "Oh,^see here! 
 I ve got to go back, I m helping Raymond." 
 
 "I guess he ll have to stagger along without you, 
 Louis," replied Barnett. "You better not go into 
 this mix-up again." 
 
 "I ll go back whenever I please." 
 Ann laid a warning hand on his arm and hushed 
 his boyish threat. 
 
 The dinner was finished with a pleasanter topic, 
 and when the men were alone with their cigars Pea- 
 body carelessly remarked: "I m going to take Ann 
 back with me, if she ll go. I don t like the idea of 
 this youngster dragging her into all this filthy tur 
 moil. Why, I found her living in a log cabin with 
 an Irish family nice people, but no place for her." 
 
 "That s the singular part of it, she seems to enjoy 
 it. She wrote Jeannette from up there pretty reg 
 ularly, and she out and out said she liked it. And 
 she is gay as a bird she s lost some of her fat I 
 never saw her looking fitter." 
 
 Peabody mused. "She is changed. I can t quite 
 make out why or how. She was like a school -girl 
 for spirits last night. Do you suppose it s the high 
 altitude?" 
 
 "Either that or some man. I m told that this 
 fellow Munro is a dashing kind of desperado." 
 "See here, Don, don t joke along those lines." 
 295 
 
Hesper 
 
 "My dear fellow, I m not joking. Munro is just 
 the kind of sport to appeal to a girl s romantic vein. 
 He s handsome and audacious. I m told he s at the 
 Kelly s every day " 
 
 Peabody became grave. "Yes, she told me that 
 herself." 
 
 "Confound it, man, don t you know these things 
 don t go by way of fitness? Something has happened 
 to that girl. I hoped that Raymond would interest 
 her, but it wasn t to be. She turned him down. Ann s 
 a mighty curious girl and you don t want to get too 
 confident. Now by all the laws of fitness and proprie 
 ty she ought to go back with you, and I hope she will; 
 but you don t want to guess at anything. Women 
 don t like these self-contained lovers; they want fire 
 and dash and mystery, and that s what she s been get 
 ting from this man Munro." 
 
 Peabody blew a whiff from his cigar; he spoke calm 
 ly, but his eyes were half closed in troubled thought. 
 
 "That s plain talk, Don." 
 
 "You gave me a full ration a moment ago, and now 
 you listen to me. What are the facts? This girl 
 came out here as white and cold as a statue. She 
 was indifferent, or contemptuous of everything, ex 
 cept the kidlet, whom she idolized. Well, now you 
 see the change. She s as full of color and gimp as 
 a girl of sixteen, her lips are red and her eyes bright- 
 I d like to think all this is due to the altitude and 
 change of scene. But, my dear chap, I suspect it is a 
 man, and I fear it is Munro." 
 
 "I hope not, for her sake." 
 
 "I do, too, and for your sake; but I ve seen too 
 many women go to pieces in that way to feel any as- 
 
 296 
 
Ann Sends Peabody Away 
 
 surance. It wouldn t have been so bad if she d taken 
 up with Raymond, for he is a fine fellow aside from 
 his present stand; but there again, he was too re 
 spectful, too near her own type; it needed a wild devil 
 like this cow-boy captain to stir her imagination. Did 
 you notice how she defended him to-night?" 
 
 Peabody s cigar was broken between his fingers. 
 Don, you scare me! Merciful powers, man, I can t 
 think of leaving her out here! She can t marry such 
 a desperado. It would be horrible horrible!" 
 
 Barnett having fairly crushed his friend, now tried 
 to comfort him. "All this may be a wrong diagnosis, 
 and I hope it is; but if I were you I would go to her 
 and use words that would startle her. She needs the 
 strong hand." 
 
 Peabody rose, all the quizzical lines of his face lost 
 in a plexus of doubt and hesitation. 
 
 Don clapped him on the shoulder. "Cheer up, 
 old man! Don t take my vaporings for gospel truth. 
 This is my pessimistic night," and together they 
 joined the women. 
 
 Ann wondered at the change in Peabody, but had 
 no chance to speak to him for some minutes, for a 
 couple of young men were detailing their stern plans 
 for invading Sky -Town. 
 
 "But you mustn t tell me these things," she pro 
 tested. "I am a sympathizer. I might convey your 
 plans to the enemy." 
 
 This seemed very amusing to the young men, and 
 one of them, Mr. Dan Morton, went on with his tale. 
 
 "You see, all the fellows have gone into this home 
 guard or the dude company, as the sheriff calls us. 
 There are a hundred of us who are ready to march as 
 
 297 
 
Hesper 
 
 soon as we have provisions and arms. We drill every 
 night. Oh, it s great fun!" 
 
 Ann looked at the two young fellows and thought 
 of Munro and his men. "Poor little lambs," she 
 said, pityingly. 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "It s cold up there," she went on, "and those 
 vedettes are very inconsiderate. It would not sur 
 prise me if they were to shoot at you just a little while 
 before you shot at them." 
 
 "You re making game of us." 
 
 "You deserve it. Why do you go up there? As 
 Mr. Munro says, it s none of your funeral, at least 
 not now." 
 
 "We have to go. All the chaps are going. Those 
 fellows must be taught their place." 
 
 They were so deeply stirred by their call to duty 
 that her ridicule only rendered them stupid, and she 
 turned away to Peabody. The library was soon 
 filled with people who had heard of Ann s return from 
 the peak, and the girl was profoundly amused to find 
 herself taken for a fount of wisdom concerning the 
 miners war and their demands. The feeling against 
 the camp was savage, and the men were loud in denun 
 ciation of the Governor of the State, who had refused 
 to order out the militia. "He is as bad as Munro, 
 an absolute anarchist," declared one man, whose stri 
 dent voice dominated all the others. 
 
 Peabody studied Ann with keen and asking eyes. 
 Her vivid color, her alertness, her instant humor were 
 a revelation of beauty to him. She seemed five years 
 younger. Youth was in the flush of her cheek, in 
 the sparkle of her eyes, and in the firm muscles of 
 
 298 
 
Ann Sends Peabody Away 
 
 her arm. She was radiant with the wine of health 
 and happiness a girl transformed. "In this I have 
 had no share," he thought, and the conviction troubled 
 him. 
 
 One by one the guests dropped away, and at last 
 only the Barnetts and Ann and Peabody were left 
 in the library. 
 
 "How absurd all this talk of warfare seems!" said 
 Ann. "You men are strange animals, you fight for 
 a fiction like demons. I never realized it before, 
 but you are uncomfortable creatures to have around 
 when your prejudices are aroused." 
 
 At a signal from Mrs. Barnett Don sauntered out 
 of the room as if on some errand, and forgot to return. 
 A few moments later she, too, begged to be excused 
 "for a moment," and was seen no more. 
 
 Both Ann and Peabody understood these actions, 
 but as he was intent on making an appeal to her, and 
 she knew there was no escape from it, they faced 
 each other with a tensity of emotion which seemed 
 impossible a moment before. 
 
 Ann broke the silence. "How indelicate of them!" 
 
 "How considerate, say I, for I want to talk with 
 you," he hurried on. I want you to go back with 
 me, Ann, as my wife. I can t go back alone. I have 
 missed you horribly. Dear girl, answer me, are you 
 ready to go?" 
 
 Ann remained silent, her mind running over for 
 the hundredth time the advantages, the duties in 
 volved, while his plea proceeded, earnest and manly, 
 but leaving her cold. It permitted her to calculate, 
 to criticise. He had much to give her; he was a man 
 of large income, of unquestioned power, and his home 
 
 299 
 
Hesper 
 
 was spacious. She liked him, she respected him very 
 highly, she admired him, but 
 
 The girl s dream was not yet faded out of her soul. 
 She hoped faintly, foolishly hoped for a return of 
 the glow, the mystery, the flooding, transforming 
 power of a love that was more, than respect, more 
 than honor and admiration a love that retained 
 something of the elemental and the primitive; some 
 thing not to be resisted, under which there was no 
 current of self-interest a passion not to be meas 
 ured, weighed, and classified, but a blind, potent, irre 
 sistible, glorious force. 
 
 She found herself saying: "I know, Wayne, we 
 seem suited to each other all our friends would say 
 so but I m not so sure of it. It is silly in me, but I 
 am still wanting to be sure. I don t care for you as 
 I ought to do. I m no longer a school-girl; I know 
 what marriage means, and unless I can feel differ 
 ently from the way I do now, I shall not marry." 
 
 He was a little encouraged. "Can there be a better, 
 a more enduring basis for marriage than respect and 
 admiration? You say you like me that you honor 
 me 
 
 "Would you ask me to marry you if you only ad 
 mired and respected me?" she asked. 
 
 "If you were you, yes." 
 
 She smiled. "You are evading; you said you loved 
 me." 
 
 " I do. My whole life is bound up in you." 
 
 "Then you have what I have not and our marriage 
 would be unequal. Oh, don t press me!" she cried, 
 in sudden weariness and despair. "I don t want 
 to make you unhappy and yet I must if you insist 
 
 300 
 
Ann Sends Peabody Away 
 
 on an answer. I cannot do it, Wayne! Please, 
 please consider this final!" 
 
 "Take time to consider, Ann. You are crushing 
 every ambition I have. Do you realize that for 
 years I ve struggled to win your love! Every vic 
 tory I ve won has been good to me because I hoped 
 to have you share my honors, my home." 
 
 "Don t say those things to me; they do no good. 
 Women don t marry men merely because they honor 
 them. Marriage means something more to women 
 than to men something more than respect is neces 
 sary to sanctify it. If that something, that other 
 higher impulse does not come, I shall not marry." 
 
 " Have you met any one else who rouses this other 
 emotion?" 
 
 She flushed. "I don t know. I am not sure." 
 
 He sank back in his chair, heavy and inert. The 
 muscles of his cheeks drooped, giving him the aspect 
 of a man of fifty. "Don t throw yourself away. Ann, 
 for God s sake, assert your common-sense! If you 
 cannot come to my home, don t waste your beauty, 
 your culture, on some savage. It hurts me to see you 
 out here, living among these sordid men " 
 
 She interrupted him. There is another inexplicable 
 thing. This life has interested me. It has developed 
 in me a capacity for physical effort that I didn t know 
 I had. It s my good old Dutch grandmother coming 
 out in me, I suppose." 
 
 " But you can t live here indefinitely, cut off from all 
 your friends and the comforts of your home." 
 
 "I m not so sui. about that," she gravely answered. 
 "I don t seem to care as much for our home and the 
 city as I thought I did, and that was little. I ve tried 
 
 301 
 
Hesper 
 
 being a cosmopolite, and it has brought me nothing it 
 was like trying to embrace the east wind. I ve reached 
 a queer state a sort of distorted epicureanism. I have 
 decided to do that which hurts me worst for a time. If 
 I don t want to do a thing, then I m going to make it 
 my duty and do it." 
 
 "Then marry me!" he swiftly interjected. 
 
 " No, no ! I don t mean that all but that," she pro 
 tested. "It was your legal mind that trapped me. 
 No, I daren t marry on the basis of my new philosophy 
 at least not now." 
 
 "You are glaringly inconsistent. I don t believe a 
 word in your new philosophy. I begin to believe that 
 you are taking a depraved pleasure in living in a 
 shack and scrubbing dishes." 
 
 "Anyhow, I m going to let happiness find me. For 
 years, ever since I left school, I ve sought pleasure. 
 I ve been everywhere England, Egypt, Europe, Asia, 
 Africa you know how we have globe-trotted. What 
 has it given me? A sense of failure here," she put her 
 finger-tip to her temple. "So far I ve lived like my 
 mother, but my father was the flower of a duty-loving 
 old Dutch family, and I hear his voice now after all 
 these years. If he had lived, I would have been a dif 
 ferent girl. It will seem absurd to you, but I have 
 grown to love sweet, little, patient Mrs. Kelly. I like 
 grand old Matt. I like the rude walls and the hand 
 made stoves, as Matt calls the fireplaces 
 
 "And the tall young miner?" Peabody suddenly in 
 terrupted to ask, and leaning towards her, a flash of 
 insight in his eyes. "Or is it the handsome, dare-devil 
 Munro?" 
 
 A swift flush rose to her face, she lost speech, her 
 302 
 
Ann Sends Peabody Away 
 
 eyes fell. "Yes I I like them, too," she said. 
 "They interest me. They are vital, unconventional, 
 real." 
 
 "And would you marry one of them?" 
 
 "Am I on the witness-stand?" she asked, half resent 
 fully, half in humor. 
 
 "I beg your pardon; I didn t intend an imperti 
 nence." 
 
 In this swift interchange of highly emotionalized 
 thought they had forgotten where they sat, and all 
 knowledge of time had failed them. Ann glanced at 
 the clock and rose, but Peabody said: "Please don t 
 go! We will never have a more important subject 
 to discuss." She sank back into her chair and he 
 went on quite calmly, his eyes very grave and sweet. 
 "Ann, I want you to be happy. I am not the kind of 
 lover who would make his bride a captive to her own 
 sorrow." 
 
 "I wish you were," she said, under breath. 
 
 "It seemed to me when I came that I could make 
 you happy. I doubt it now; but I must say a word of 
 warning about this new light you are following. I 
 believe in love, too ; but can you afford to follow an im 
 pulse that has its seat in the organic ? You know what I 
 mean. In general it is a guide, but it is necessary to con 
 sider other things in order to avoid sorrow and pain." 
 
 But have we any right to avoid sorrow and pain ? 
 Isn t my present condition my uselessness due to 
 just that calculation? What right have I to come 
 down to death saying, I ve had a good time all my 
 days ? There is something wrong in my life, Wayne. 
 I ve been eating whipped cream and hot -house fruit 
 till my nature cries out for curds and whey. I don t 
 
 303 
 
Hesper 
 
 know where I ll fetch up, but just now I am bruising 
 myself against realities. My feet have touched planks, 
 and I am better for it." 
 
 "Velvet is as great a reality as a plank floor." 
 
 "It may be, but it doesn t seem so to me just now, 
 and velvet is only what it seems to me. The plain 
 truth is, I am happier, healthier than I have been for 
 years, and I dare not let go of what I have gained. I 
 shudder to think what I was." 
 
 "If it is contrast you want, you could get it in the 
 Tyrol, or even in the Adirondacks. Planks are planks. 
 You might even scrub floors in a tenement on the East 
 Side. I ll do anything to make you happy." 
 
 She shook her head sadly but decisively. "You do 
 not understand me; but no matter. This you must 
 understand. This talk has cleared my own mind. I 
 admire you and I like you, but as I feel now I can never 
 marry you." A little shiver passed over her at the 
 thought. "No, it is impossible. I m sorry, but you 
 must go back alone." 
 
 He took his dismissal quietly, but he suffered. His 
 voice was tremulous with passionate regret as he bowed 
 over her hand. "I accept your verdict, Ann, and I 
 can only hope that your new light may not lead you into 
 a slough of despond." 
 
 She stood before him transfigured by some emotion 
 he could not divine. " I have never been afraid of any 
 thing except my growing distaste of life. Now that 
 the joy of living is coming back to me, I am as young 
 as my years." 
 
 "Then good-bye, and God bless you," he said, with 
 heart-felt sincerity, and left her transfigured by some 
 inward light. 
 
XXI 
 
 Raymond Receives Visitors 
 
 FOR the first time in his life Raymond was lonely, 
 almost to the point of despair. To have both 
 Ann and Louis taken out of his life on the same day 
 left a painfully empty space. He did not permit him 
 self to hope that Ann would return he had, in fact, 
 advised against it and after his supper was over he sat 
 beside the fire listening to the wind and pulling at his 
 pipe like one deserted of his kind. 
 
 It had turned cold, and a great current of air was 
 sweeping down from the peak a movement portend 
 ing some great change in the clouds. Kelly predicted 
 snow ; but as most of the outside work on the mine was 
 done, he was not concerned about the weather. He 
 was, in fact, taking account of himself and trying to ad 
 just himself to a future without " Hesper." The glow 
 of his pride had died out. The confidence which 
 sprang from his possession of gold had dulled into 
 doubt. 
 
 He found his evening unrestful and purposeless. 
 Taking down a book he tried to read, but his mind 
 wandered. He laid a scratch-pad on his knee and fell 
 to figuring out his profits on the mine, and this proved 
 a more absorbing business. He was intensely eager 
 to own the mine, and so be rid of Curran and his spies; 
 
 305 
 
Hesper 
 
 and if the vein went on deepening and widening they 
 could buy it in with a few good shipments, and then all 
 that it yielded would be divided between Kelly and 
 himself and his men, for some sort of profit-sharing 
 plan was taking form in his mind as the outcome of 
 the prolonged debates on the rights of labor. "They 
 help lift the gold, they ought to share in it," he 
 argued. 
 
 He carried his figuring on to the point where he could 
 build a home and ask " Someone " to share it with him. 
 Where this mansion should stand he left undecided, 
 for the same reason that he did not permit himself 
 to name the woman of its fireside. In this mood he 
 was not so sure of the power of his gold as he had 
 been on that misty morning, and the letter which he 
 had fashioned to write to his father remained un- 
 penned. "I will wait till the money is in my hand," 
 he said. 
 
 As he sat thus, pondering over his problem, he 
 heard voices, and a moment later a loud rap shook 
 his door, ominous with its decisiveness of stroke. 
 
 "Come in!" he shouted, somewhat surlily, for he 
 did not enjoy interruption. 
 
 Munro, Brock, Carter, and one or two others he 
 didn t know entered, covered with snow. 
 
 "Good-evening, gentlemen." He indicated chairs. 
 "What can I do for you this evening?" 
 
 Carter seemed very nervous and took a seat with 
 out looking at his host. Munro was smiling, but his 
 eyes were aslant as he replied: 
 
 "Oh, we just called to pass the time of night and 
 inquire about your good health." 
 
 Raymond glanced from Munro s waggish lips to 
 306 
 
Raymond Receives Visitors 
 
 the frowning or troubled faces of the other men and 
 braced himself for trouble. 
 
 "Out with it, Carter! What do you want of me?" 
 
 Carter fidgeted on his chair. "Well, you see, it s 
 this way, Rob. We held a meeting to-day and we de 
 cided that, in view of the struggle that labor is mak 
 ing here, all the mines should either shut down or put 
 their men into the ranks." 
 
 "You have asked my men to join, haven t you?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What did they say?" 
 
 Munro chipped in, "They said, Go to blazes. " 
 
 Raymond smiled. "How impolite of them! Well, 
 now, let me say once again, Carter, I am in sym 
 pathy with your main objects. I think a man should 
 be paid for every minute he works, but I don t believe 
 in any method of forcing men who are working, and 
 want to work, into a strike. I can t afford to go into 
 any such organization." 
 
 "You can t afford not to," growled Brock. 
 
 His tone angered Raymond. "What have you to 
 say in this matter?" 
 
 "I m a member of the executive committee." 
 
 "Since when?" 
 
 "No matter when. What I say goes." 
 
 "Does it? Well, you keep a civil tongue in your 
 jaws when speaking to me." 
 
 Brock rose. "You ll close down to-morrow or we ll 
 close you down." 
 
 Raymond faced him. "We will not close down, 
 and you can t close us down. Carter knows, and 
 you know, Jack, I ve played fair in this. I have not 
 believed in your methods. I stood with Larned, 
 
 307 
 
Hesper 
 
 your own organizer, against violence. If you can t 
 convince my men by argument you needn t come 
 to me to dragoon them into your ranks. What dif 
 ference will my hands make, anyway?" 
 
 Carter seized upon this. "It will make all the 
 difference there is. There are a dozen of these small 
 operators holding out because you and Kelly do. 
 Your men are all strong men and ought to be with 
 us. Besides, it weakens our discipline 
 
 Raymond interrupted. "We ve been all over that 
 before. I am not concerned with your discipline. 
 I have no quarrel with my men. They are satisfied 
 with our present arrangement." 
 
 "But we must take into account the solidarity of 
 labor " 
 
 "The solidarity of labor! I cannot afford to sac 
 rifice my business for a mere phrase. You re going 
 at this back-end to. If you would turn your atten 
 tion to reforming mining laws and crushing out these 
 speculative owners of mining lands, you would really 
 be doing something; but your assault on men who 
 are paying labor full wages weakens your case." 
 
 Kelly opened the door and entered while Ray 
 mond was speaking. 
 
 "What s the meaning of all this?" he asked. 
 
 Raymond coldly replied, "These men have come 
 to serve a final notice on us to discharge our non 
 union men or shut down." 
 
 "Not at all!" cried out Carter, who feared Kelly. 
 "All we ask is that you recommend your men to join 
 the union " 
 
 Brock sprang to his feet again. " Oh, rats! What s 
 the use of beating around the bush. We know that 
 
 308 
 
Raymond Receives Visitors 
 
 you fellers are the backbone of the free miners as 
 sociation, and that they would all come in if you said 
 so, and we need you and your men. We want you 
 to head em our way." 
 
 Kelly smiled. "Ye re not asking much. So far 
 as I m concerned, Carter, I don t believe a word in 
 you and your school -boy, tomfool antics. From 
 the very start ye ve gone wrong. You began by de 
 fending a lot of drunken blaggards, and that queered 
 ye with every decent man. Go back to camp, arrest 
 Denver Dan, San Juan Jones, Hob Smith, and the 
 rest of the bunch, and send them down to the valley 
 as a peace offering; then serve notice on the men that 
 blew up the Red Star that they ll be hung to-morrow 
 morning. By that time I ll begin to believe in you 
 and your love for the honest working-man " Kelly 
 turned to Brock and his tone cut like a frosty blade 
 as he said: "Ye are dominated this minute by a man 
 who ought to be thrown out of camp. I know you, 
 1 Bloody Brock. I know the hole in the ground ye 
 are going to fill if ye don t cross the high range, and 
 do it soon." 
 
 Carter, utterly unable to stem the flood of Kelly s 
 indignant speech, sat with drooping head. He stam 
 mered, "You you re a traitor to labor." 
 
 "I am a traitor to nothing that is good, but I am 
 worn out and weary with your yellin , cursin , gam- 
 blin , drunken loons that assume to be workmen. 
 I have more respect for the weak little Dagoes, for they 
 do want work and need it; but the bums that fill the 
 streets are a sorry threat to a decent man, let alone 
 a decent woman; and here s Jack Munro " Kelly 
 turned, and the smile died out of the young despera- 
 
Hesper 
 
 do s face "he s chief of a gang of hoodlum cow 
 boys, and still pretends to be keepin the peace. If 
 you want to help the cause of labor, Jack, me boy, 
 close the saloons while this strike is going on; protect 
 the women and children; arrest and throw out the 
 men that blew up the Red Star mine you know who 
 they are 
 
 "I do not," said Munro. 
 
 Then find em, you who are so sharp ye can find 
 a tack in the grass; but, by the piper! till ye do some 
 thing to make the street less of a hell, ye shall kape 
 away from Matt Kelly and Matt Kelly s wife and 
 babies. The whole town is mad with drink this night, 
 and you here bio win bubbles about their righteous 
 cause. Black shame to the gang of ye!" 
 
 He was lion-like in his wrath, and the group of labor 
 leaders cowered before him like revealed conspira 
 tors. Only Munro seemed unabashed. 
 
 "That s all well enough to demand, Matt, but to 
 carry it out is another story." 
 
 "Because ye re one o them," answered Kelly. 
 "You boast of your power; ye re a man of education- 
 some say military education. You know what disci 
 pline is, but when it comes to controlling your men 
 from insulting strangers and abusing women you 
 set down. Now, listen to me. This is my last word 
 on this subject. We are neutral. We have had no 
 part in this row and we will take none. Go on, work 
 out ye re jackass plan, rouse the whole State, make a 
 political issue of yourselves, but lave Raymond & 
 Kelly out of it. Lave our men alone. They are 
 satisfied and earnin good wages. As for my good 
 advice, take it or lave it. If you take it, ye win; 
 
 310 
 
Raymond Receives Visitors 
 
 if yon lave it, ye lose. I am for peace. I ve done 
 everything a man could do to kape the peace ; I must 
 do so. Everything I have in the world is here the 
 mine, me wife, and the babies. I want no quarrel 
 with anny man, especially with a miner, for I have 
 worked for wages half me life; but I tell ye once more, 
 boys, this mob business must not circle round that 
 little cabin over there. If wan of your loafers so 
 much as puts his toe against my door, I ll kill him 
 where he stands." 
 
 He ended with a hoarse intensity that silenced the 
 men who listened, and after a pause Raymond re 
 marked, very quietly: 
 
 "I stand with Kelly on this matter. Is there any 
 thing further you want to say?" 
 
 Brock shook his heavy shoulders, as if to clear him 
 self of a weight, and clumsily rose. "I reckon that s 
 all you stay out?" 
 
 "We stand clear," said Raymond. 
 
 Carter fumbled for his hat. " Of course you mustn t 
 think we blame you, Kelly; you are right enough 
 from your point of view, but what would become of 
 labor if we all stood aside?" 
 
 "I don t know," said Kelly. "There are wise men 
 who have studied this problem Hennery Garge, for 
 instance ye might look into his way. I m dom sure 
 your ways of violence will never cure the evil." 
 
 As they stood on the threshold Brock spoke with a 
 vicious sneer, "We ll report your answer." 
 
 "Report to purgatory and back if ye like," replied 
 Kelly, cheerfully. Tis a plain answer, and a man 
 behind it." 
 
 As the door closed behind them, Raymond turned 
 
Hesper 
 
 to Kelly with a look of great solemnity. "Matt, this 
 means war for us." 
 
 "Munro will stand between us and the union." 
 
 "I doubt it, Matt. His power will vanish the mo 
 ment he goes against the wishes of the miners. He 
 couldn t feed his men and their horses without the 
 union; he is in their pay, for all his boasting." 
 
 Kelly looked thoughtful. "That is true." 
 
 "Matt, you better take the wife and babies down 
 to the valley." 
 
 "I ve spoken of that, but the little wife will not 
 go without me." 
 
 "Then you must go. It is not safe for them here. 
 The people below are in deadly earnest. They re com 
 ing up here with an army next time. You better take 
 your little family and get out." 
 
 "I can t do that I can t leave here. Do you take 
 the wife and the boys down to the Springs while I 
 stay here and see that the work goes on." 
 
 They tossed this duty to and fro, each arguing in 
 favor of the other, till Raymond said, "Very well, 
 let s leave it to the wife." 
 
 As they stepped out into the night Kelly cried out: 
 "Here comes the snow. Munro s pickets have a hard 
 night before them." 
 
 Lifting his face to the ray less sky, Raymond felt 
 the feathery touch of snow upon his forehead, and 
 looking towards the lighted windows, the thick-falling 
 flakes could be seen in dancing swarm. "It will cover 
 the grass Jack will find his cavalry expensive." 
 
 Kelly s sons were fast asleep in their bed, but the 
 small mother still sat at her sewing, her head haloed 
 with lamplight. She had grown pinker and plumper 
 
 312 
 
Raymond Receives Visitors 
 
 since Ann s ministry began, and was the pretty cen 
 tre of a sweet domestic picture as she looked up and 
 greeted the two men. 
 
 "I m glad you ve come," she said. My heart is 
 lonely without Ann. Do you think she ll ever come 
 back, Rob?" 
 
 "I hope so," he replied, but his voice had no hearti 
 ness of conviction in it. 
 
 "I m glad she s away just now," said Kelly, com 
 ing straight to business as usual. "And Rob thinks 
 you d better go down to the Springs also." 
 
 "And leave you here, Matt Kelly? I will not. 
 You d be sure to get into trouble at once. If I go, 
 you go," 
 
 Kelly looked at Raymond with a comical lift of 
 one eyebrow. "That settles it we stay!" 
 
 Mrs. Kelly laughed gayly. "I can t trust you two 
 hot-heads." 
 
 "There s going to be trouble," warned Raymond, 
 "and you ought not to be here." 
 
 "The fightin will not be on the hill you said so 
 yerself, Matt." 
 
 "I did, and I think so still; but at the same time 
 twould be safer far if you and the lads were in the 
 Springs." 
 
 "What has happened to-night, Matt? You were 
 not so blue when you went out." 
 
 He told her quietly while she rocked to and fro in 
 her low chair. She seemed scarcely to listen, but at 
 the end she said: "You did right. I am heart-sick of 
 these drinkin , carousin miners who go about mak 
 ing trouble for others. The most of them have no 
 one but themselves, and they don t care what they 
 
Hesper 
 
 do. If Jack Munro is the man he boasts himself to 
 be all the time, he ll come in here and protect his 
 friends." 
 
 Jack is up against a hard streak o weather. He s 
 either got to stand in with the union or put up the 
 money to feed and take care of his men and horses, and 
 that s no small item when the snows have covered the 
 grass. If he should join us, his power would be gone. 
 He can t" 
 
 A knock at the door brought a smile to Kelly s face. 
 "Talk of the devil and he s at your elbow come!" 
 
 Munro entered the room hurriedly, like a man pur 
 sued. His collar was rolled high and his hat pulled 
 low. He shut the door behind himself quickly; but 
 when he turned, his usual devil-may-care grin was on 
 his face. 
 
 "Boys, this is on the q t. I mustn t be seen down 
 here any more. This neutral game is up. They re go 
 ing to make war on you independent operators sure 
 thing and I can t hobnob with you. Oh, but they re 
 wild up the street to-night! The report is that the 
 sheriff has started up the old stage-road, and the lads 
 are crazy to do em up. I ve got to go down the canon 
 and see." 
 
 " It s another false alarm. The sheriff isn t going to 
 march in on this camp even with ten thousand depu 
 ties." 
 
 "Anyhow, that s what they believe up there, and 
 they re hot against you. This neutral dodge of yours 
 won t work. I can t do much for you, but anything 
 I can do to keep this little home undisturbed I ll do." 
 He bowed to Mrs. Kelly. "But, as you said to-day, I 
 can t maintain my men without the help of the miners, 
 
Raymond Receives Visitors 
 
 and besides, boys, I believe in organized labor. Labor 
 is an army, and discipline is everything." 
 
 "Why don t you maintain it then?" 
 
 The smile dropped from his face like a mask, and a 
 sinister, older man faced them: "Give me time. What 
 this camp needs is a little Napoleon the whiff of 
 grape-shot. It needs a dictator, and I may be able 
 to lay my hand on the sceptre yet." 
 
 "It s pure anarchy now," said Raymond. 
 
 " It was till I entered the game. I am in control of 
 the situation to-night. If I could command ten thou 
 sand dollars to take care of my men, I d bring order 
 out of chaos, or hang about forty of these hoboes." 
 
 "If you ll make this camp law-abiding, Jack, you will 
 be one of the great men of the State even the valley 
 will praise you. It s up to you this minute to show 
 your power." 
 
 "Yes, but there are a whole lot of other considera 
 tions. I can t afford to play into the hands of those 
 cursed, one-lung dudes. If it were a question of men 
 like you and Kelly here but it isn t. The Red Star 
 company is made up of a set of pirates, who batten 
 on labor like a lot of turkey-buzzards. They have no 
 regard for any human rights " 
 
 These howling dervishes up the street are not con 
 cerned with rights not even their own." 
 
 Munro was in deadly earnest now. "That s where 
 you are wrong, old man. In their blind, fool way 
 they are fighting labor s battles. They stand for the 
 future. It isn t easy to strike a balance here, but I m 
 on the side of labor, and against privilege. The 
 future belongs to the common soldier no doubt of 
 that. If those yaller-legs come up here, I ll put up 
 
Hesper 
 
 b fight that will make their noses turn gray. On that 
 point my men are sound. They will fight till the last 
 man. No, I ll be hanged if I play into their hands!" 
 
 It s a queer mix-up," said Kelly, with a sigh. "I 
 have a hatred of them dudes meself. They want to 
 run our end of the county, and their own too. They 
 despise a workin -man. They dodge im as if he were 
 a pole-cat." 
 
 Raymond rapped on the table. "Now wait a mo 
 ment. You re confusing the jury. The immediate 
 question is, How can we keep that mob of deputies 
 from coming up here? I ll tell you what I will do. I 
 will volunteer to go down and meet the leaders and try 
 to stop their advance." 
 
 Kelly rose with a spring. "Go, you! I believe you 
 can do the trick. Barnett is your friend. The sheriff 
 is mine. I would go with you, but I dare not leave 
 me home." 
 
 "Never mind me, Matt," said the small wife. 
 
 "You re both taking a big risk," remarked Munro. 
 "They may arrest you both." 
 
 "I have no fear," Kelly said; "but I dare not go- 
 just now." 
 
 "I will go if the executive committee will authorize 
 me to treat with the opposition," declared Raymond. 
 
 "They will never do that, but Carter may. You 
 might take him. He s scared nearly out of his skin; 
 but he might be willing to go. Come with me and we 
 will see." 
 
 "Be careful where you step, Rob," said Kelly, anx- 
 iously. "The grass is full o rattlers." 
 
 "I ll take care of myself," he answered, cheerily. 
 "Good-night." 
 
 316 
 
Raymond Receives Visitors 
 
 As he closed the door behind him he said : "I m trust 
 ing you, Jack. If you lead me into a trap, I ll carry 
 you with me." 
 
 Munro s voice had an injured tone as he spoke from 
 the darkness. "You do me a great injustice." 
 
 " I said that as a test. Lead on, MacdufiV " 
 
 It required courage even with such a guide as Munro 
 to walk the troubled streets that night. The town was 
 filled with the most abandoned women and the most 
 lawless men of the whole mountain West. Up to this 
 time all the martial preparations of the camp had been 
 half-hearted underneath every menace had lain a 
 vein of humor; every movement had been in the nat 
 ure of a huge, rough joke, but now the camp was in 
 fighting mood. Tongues clattered in hot curses, and 
 with the sound of their own voices men were inflamed. 
 The saloons echoed with fiery denunciations of the 
 mine-owners. Gangs of armed desperadoes paraded 
 the walks, calling for volunteers to assemble at the 
 armory, and as Munro met and greeted these men, 
 Raymond was made fully aware of his power over 
 them. 
 
 Those who recognized Raymond burst into laughter 
 and shouted, " Bringin him in, are ye, Jack?" 
 
 One infuriate aimed a blow at Raymond s face, but 
 Munro felled him with the butt of his revolver and 
 walked on. 
 
 In the headquarters of the organization they found 
 Carter and his staff loudly discussing measures, and 
 answering and sending messages. Dolan, the friendly 
 reporter, was there, and also the representative of the 
 Bozle Nugget. They were both deeply trusted, and 
 their advice was most carefully considered. Upon see- 
 
Hesper 
 
 ing Raymond with Munro, Dolan rushed forward. 
 What s the meaning of this ? Have the independents 
 come in?" 
 
 Munro said, quietly: " Boys, I want to be alone with 
 the president. Clear the room, Sergeant Poole." 
 
 A tall young fellow in cow-boy s dress drew a big 
 revolver, and, using it as a sort of baton, impassively 
 drove every one but the president, his secretary, and 
 Raymond from the room. 
 
 Munro put Raymond s proposition before Carter in 
 a few words. Carter turned white with fear. 
 
 "I can t do that. They d kill me. They hold me 
 responsible for everything that s been done here. The 
 Governor has wired me to meet him, but I daren t do 
 it. It s suicide to do it." 
 
 "Then I will go alone," said Raymond, in vast dis 
 gust. " Give me a letter saying you would like to meet 
 and confer with the sheriff to prevent bloodshed, and I 
 will present it." 
 
 Carter was shaking with excitement over the re 
 sponsibility thrust upon him. " I don t know what to 
 say." 
 
 ""I ll tell you what to say," put in Munro. "Tell 
 him we are fully organized and heavily armed, but that 
 we desire to avoid bloodshed, and to that end invite 
 him and the president of the Red Star company to 
 meet with us and Raymond, in the presence of the 
 Governor of the State, in the hope of arriving at a com 
 promise." 
 
 Raymond was pleased. "That s the first note of 
 sense I have heard uttered in this whole row." 
 
 " I intend to take a hand from this on," said Munro, 
 quietly, as Carter was writing the letter. " I shall have 
 
Raymond Receives Visitors 
 
 to kill a few of these loud-mouthed Weary Willies, who 
 want to go to war by use of somebody else s rela 
 tions." 
 
 When the letter was delivered to him Munro said: 
 " Now, Carter, keep mum about this. If it works out 
 you can have all the credit for it; if it fails I ll take the 
 kicking." 
 
 The crowd in the outer room were consumed with 
 curiosity as the two young men came out, but Munro 
 said: "Get the recruits all together. I ll be back in 
 half an hour and put them through the paces." 
 
 Mounting their horses, they set off down the trail in 
 the thick-falling snow, guided only by the dim lights in 
 the valley. 
 
 "It s a tough night to be out, Rob, but you re less 
 likely to be interfered with on that account. If you 
 meet any of my pickets the countersign is contact 
 porphyry and slate." 1 
 
 They rode in silence till they reached the broad stage- 
 road, which wound round the base of the hill and dipped 
 into the canon of the Bear River. No one was abroad, 
 and their horses feet made no sound in the snow. 
 
 Under an overhanging fir Munro pulled up. 
 think you re all right now. You won t meet any one 
 except, possibly, one of my men." 
 
 "Jack, old man," began Raymond, with feeling, 
 "after all, we are classmates, and I don t want to see 
 you run your neck into a noose. Why not ride on with 
 me and get out of this business?" 
 
 " No, I m going to stay right here, and prove that my 
 aims are right. I ve been working slowly to the point 
 where I could take control. I m pretty near there now, 
 and when I do take hold, I ll make Brock and his ho- 
 
Hesper 
 
 boes hit the western trail or tread the air. I m in this 
 thing to win out, in spite of your dude friends or 
 Brock s gang." 
 
 "It s dangerous business, Jack." 
 
 "Oh, that doesn t trouble me. By-the-way, you ll 
 see the lady from New York present my regards, will 
 you ? Tell her that when this cruel war is over I hope 
 to call upon her in the Springs. Good-night." 
 
 "Good-night," replied Raymond, and for the mo 
 ment both forgot their duties and the dark night in 
 thought of Ann. 
 
XXII 
 Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 RAYMOND S descent of the canon was singularly 
 uneventful. He met neither the invading army 
 nor the patrol. No living things but himself and his 
 horse were roaming the world of snow, and he rode 
 slowly, silently, so intent on keeping the road that little 
 time was left him in which to ponder other possibilities. 
 Happily the storm lessened as he descended, and by 
 dawn he was once more trotting with the calm, close- 
 adhering seat of the cow-boy, his horse s hoofs striking 
 sharply on the hard ground beneath its thin, white 
 coverlet. 
 
 The east was a dome of scarlet and saffron arching a 
 pale-violet world of plain a wondrously cold, clear, and 
 inspiriting sky; and, tired as he was, he rose in his 
 stirrups with a half-uttered cry of exultation. After 
 all, his first love was the plain. The mountains fasci 
 nated and allured him, but the level lands filled him 
 with wordless longing, for they were associated with 
 his first romance. 
 
 He had planned to go to a friend s house in the lower 
 town, but with the coming of light and the blooming 
 of the rose of the morning, he resolved to ride directly 
 to Barnett s. "My errand is an honorable one," he 
 argued. "Why should I sneak into cover?" 
 21 321 
 
Hesper 
 
 No one was astir as he rode into the Barnett yard 
 no one save the hostler, who received him with beam 
 ing countenance and a word of inquiry about the strike. 
 
 " It s still on, Johnson." 
 
 "Is it true that they have the ground all planted 
 thick with bombs?" 
 
 "I haven t seen any such planting." 
 
 The housemaid who let him into the house also 
 smiled upon him in a most friendly fashion. "We re 
 glad to see you, sir. Shall I tell Mr. Barnett you are 
 here?" 
 
 I wish you would ; and tell him I wish no one but 
 himself to know of my presence." 
 
 "I understand, sir." 
 
 The beauty of the Barnett home smote upon him 
 freshly and with great power as he crouched in a big 
 chair before the fire, absorbing needed heat. He was 
 chill and stiff with his long ride, and the delicious 
 warmth, the harmonious colors, the repose of that 
 room, with its calls to reading and meditation, laid 
 hold upon him mightily. "I will have a library like 
 this," he said, "and I will use it, too. My books shall 
 be read." 
 
 He began to understand how easy it would be for 
 those who dwelt in such homes to hate the profane, 
 purposeless, gambling crowds at Sky - Town. Seen 
 from the vantage-ground of this reposeful, well-ordered 
 templenof literature, they were savages in very deed. 
 
 The girl returned promptly. "You may come right 
 up, sir. Mr. Barnett will see you in his room." 
 
 His heavy boots clamped loudly on the polished floor, 
 and he was forced to tread the stairs on tiptoe. The 
 foot-wear of the hills was as out of place there as a spade. 
 
 322 
 
Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 Barnett was in bed, with a pot of coffee and some toast 
 on a stand by his side, reading the morning papers. 
 
 "Hello, old man," he called out, when the door was 
 shut. "I m mighty glad to see you, but I don t know 
 what to do about you. What s the row, anyway? 
 Have you come down to see Ann?" 
 
 Raymond took a chair near the bed. "Not exactly 
 but of course " 
 
 "I understand, and I don t blame you. She came 
 back from up there looking like a rose of Sharon. 
 Of course, you haven t had breakfast. Have some 
 coffee. You ve come on something important, but 
 let s get some hot coffee into our blood the first off; 
 we can think better. Touch that bell for me and 
 we ll have something heartier." 
 
 "How is Mrs. Barnett?" 
 
 "Never better. I ve got her locked in there" 
 he pointed at an inner door "I had an idea you 
 were coming with important news from the front. 
 I don t know about your being here; the people have 
 got you mixed up with Munro in this thing, and I ve 
 had the devil s own job to convince them otherwise. 
 I m not a bit sure they won t want to arrest you and 
 hold you as a hostage." 
 
 "That would be a nice job." 
 
 "Wouldn t it? But they ve lost their heads com 
 pletely. You see, these red - neckers hit us on a 
 weak spot they broke loose just as we were trying 
 to float our biggest issue of stock, and flattened out 
 every deal till it looks like a square yard of nothing. 
 Naturally, we re all red-headed as woodpeckers, and 
 we re going to open these mines; we ve got to open 
 them or go broke." 
 
 323 
 
Hesper 
 
 Raymond s eyes twinkled a little. "That sounds 
 rather farcical from one lolling in Babylonian luxury. 
 You should come up and see how we red-neckers 
 live. There s horny-handed toil for you. It s a good 
 thing Brock and Munro can t see you now." 
 
 Barnett s reply was a shout to the girl who knocked. 
 "Christine, bring a good, big steak as quickly as pos 
 sible, and a fresh pot of coffee." He turned to Ray 
 mond: "I ll make you share my comfort I don t call 
 this luxury. By -the -way, when did you come to 
 town?" 
 
 "This minute." 
 
 "Ride! In this storm!" He rose on his elbow to 
 survey him. "Great Scot, man, throw off those 
 horrible boots and put on some dry socks and some 
 slippers! Tumble the things out of that bottom 
 drawer; you ll find all kinds there." 
 
 In the end he had his way, and so, in warm, dry 
 foot-wear and a smoking-jacket, the young miner ate 
 his steak and drank his coffee while his host looked on 
 and commented on his looks. 
 
 "You ve taken a hand to the plough, haven t you? 
 That fist is a wonder. And you ve really struck it? 
 Well, I m glad of it. But you want to watch Curran; 
 I m told he s been to every lawyer in town with your 
 papers, in the attempt to break your grip on that vein." 
 
 "We are not worrying," replied Raymond. 
 
 When he had quite finished, Barnett said, "Well, 
 now, Rob, what about it?" 
 
 Raymond was equally direct. "I m here to try 
 to persuade you not to send the sheriff and his men 
 up the canon." 
 
 "Whom do you represent the union?" 
 324 
 
Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 " In a way, yes. I have a letter to you, and I come 
 on behalf of the independents, who don t want to 
 see bloodshed. There ll be a horrible mix-up, Don 
 sure thing unless your fellows are headed off. Mun- 
 ro s cow-boys and desperadoes will fight don t make 
 any mistake about that; and he s got the larger part 
 of the whole camp behind him when it comes to re 
 pelling invaders, as they call your folks." 
 
 "Who is this man Munro?" 
 
 Raymond looked at his friend steadily. "Don, 
 the time has come to tell you something; but it s a 
 secret!" His voice ended in a rising inflection. "It 
 concerns only you and me for the present." 
 
 Barnett reached his hand. "All right, old man." 
 
 "Munro is really Jackson Hollenbeck. We were 
 classmates and room-mates at West Point." 
 
 "What!" Barnett started up. "West Point! 
 Were you at West Point? How does it happen? 
 You didn t graduate?" 
 
 "I did not. Do you remember reading, some eight 
 or nine years ago, of a group of six cadets being dis 
 missed for hazing and insubordination? I don t sup 
 pose you do, but I was one of that gang. Jack was 
 another. We weren t so bad as we were represented, 
 but they fired us all the same. I lost all track of 
 Hollie, as we called him then." 
 
 " So that s where Munro gets his military training 
 and his real name is Hollenbeck. * He smiled slyly. 
 "What s yours?" 
 
 "Oh, mine is straight. I never tried to conceal 
 my identity. I m Robert Huston Raymond, of Ohio, 
 the man that swatted his superior and got busted* 
 for it. Since then I ve lived a commonplace life. * 
 
 325 
 
Hesper 
 
 "What was it all about? I never asked any ques 
 tions before, but I d like to know all about it." 
 
 "That s about all of it. I was a restless young 
 cub and hated the discipline; but that s of no value. 
 What is important is this Jack Munro s military 
 training is being felt. Now you mustn t ask me a 
 single question as to conditions up there. I m going 
 back, and I must be able to say to Jack that I was 
 faithful to my trust. If the sheriff will go back with 
 me, alone, I believe I can get Jack to deliver the men 
 that blew up the mine. Then if the Red Star people 
 you, in fact will deal with the men fairly, I think the 
 whole situation will clear." 
 
 "I don t share your optimism. Those jackasses 
 must be whipped before they will yield a point. 
 They d kill you and the sheriff both." 
 
 "I don t think so. I know Jack will protect us. 
 He practically controls the camp at this minute. I 
 have the countersign and can pass the patrol at any 
 time to-day, and the sheriff, if he has the nerve, can 
 ride with me straight to Jack s headquarters. Then 
 I want you to meet some of the head men and ar 
 range a new scale." 
 
 To this Barnett would not listen. "Once you 
 admit that these men can dictate terms, and where 
 will their demands stop?" 
 
 Raymond spoke with some heat. "What I com 
 plain of is that you Red Star people are interfering 
 with my business. You have inflamed the camp 
 till I may be obliged to shut down at any moment. 
 You have been unreasonable in treating with your 
 men. It isn t so much a question of wages, it s a 
 question of courtesy and decent regard for your fel- 
 
 326 
 
Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 lows. Mackay was no man to make an issue of. 
 He was, in fact, a conceited ass, and you know it. 
 Kelly could have inaugurated your new system, and 
 I think I could; but Mackay the very walk of the 
 man was an offence. His style of trousers would 
 incite murder." 
 
 " He s one of the ablest men in the West." 
 
 "Able, but rank. Now, Barnett, you must back 
 water here. The camp is in a bad temper, and you 
 can t cure violence with violence." 
 
 "Well, I ll tell you what I ll do," said Barnett, on 
 sudden impulse, moved by Raymond s sincerity, 
 "I ll call a meeting here of the sheriff, the mayor, 
 and one or two others, and we ll talk this over." 
 
 "All right, only you must keep my presence here 
 a secret and be mighty careful not to put me in a 
 false position." 
 
 "I ll take care of you." As he rose he added: "You 
 lie down for a while and rest while I collect my men. 
 Follow me and I ll bestow you." 
 
 Raymond followed slowly and rolled into his de 
 licious bed with a sigh of deep pleasure. 
 
 When he woke, Don was standing over him smiling. 
 "The council is on. Dress and come down to the 
 library. I was right about the indignant citizens ; they 
 were all for arresting you. They understand that you 
 are a pal of this man Munro, and I was obliged to put 
 forth all my influence to save you." 
 
 This did not appeal to Raymond s sense of humor. 
 " It s just that blind sort of bucking at the wrong min 
 ute that tangles things up. Munro is the one regula 
 tive force up there, and yet you fellows want to kill 
 him off." 
 
 327 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Save your eloquence for the committee; you ll need 
 it. 
 
 As Raymond stepped out into the hall, Ann met him. 
 "Good-morning," she said, and her fine hand closed 
 strongly on his. "Don has told me of your mission. I 
 hope you ll succeed." She turned to Barnett. "Do 
 you know where Louis is?" 
 
 "No. Haven t you seen him this morning?" 
 "No; and I m afraid he has gone back to Sky-Town. 
 The hostler said he took his pony and rode away about 
 eight o clock." Her anxiety for her brother showed 
 in the otherwise clear serenity of her eyes like a cloud 
 in a summer sky. 
 
 " I am afraid to have him there when you are away," 
 she said to Raymond. 
 
 Barnett moved on, leaving them alone. 
 
 Raymond hastened to reassure her. "I am going 
 back to-day to-night. Matt will take charge of him 
 till I return. You must not return to the camp at 
 least, not while this invasion threatens. The turmoil 
 is deepening up there." 
 
 Her concern augmented. "Is it so serious?" 
 
 "If these deputies move on the camp they will be 
 shot down." 
 
 "Oh, these wild Western people!" 
 
 "Gun-play isn t confined to the Rocky Mountains. 
 I can remember the riots in Pennsylvania." 
 
 "That seems different." 
 
 "It isn t. Wherever men reach a certain pitch of 
 rage or desperation they shoot." 
 
 "Can you keep Louis out of it?" 
 
 "I think so." 
 
 "You must be sure, or I will go back. I could 
 328 
 
Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 keep him out of it to take care of me. Is Mrs. Kelly 
 afraid?" 
 
 " Not a bit. I tried to induce her to come down here, 
 but she refuses to make any change in her life. Even 
 if the invaders storm the fort the Kelly household is 
 out of range." 
 
 "They really have a fort, then?" 
 "I shouldn t have said fort; I meant the hill." 
 "You said fort." 
 
 "I am here as a messenger of peace, not to betray 
 military secrets," he replied, with a smile in his eyes. 
 "And I must be careful even with you." 
 "What do you hope to do?" 
 
 " I hope to persuade the authorities here not to send 
 these deputies up the canon. I want to arrange ^an 
 armistice that is, a wait of a couple of weeks in which 
 to meet and consider ways and means." 
 "Your military training is coming out." 
 "I permit it to show in talking with you." 
 "Does anybody else know?" 
 "I told Don this morning." 
 
 She checked herself. "You must go. They are 
 waiting for you below. We will see you at luncheon?" 
 "Yes, I may not start till dark to-night." 
 "You have my best wishes." 
 
 He went down the stairs with her last words linger 
 ing in his ears like song. She was very moving when 
 she permitted herself to be gentle. 
 
 The men assembled in the library were a grim lot. 
 Mackay was no less square-jawed than Banker Moore, 
 and the squat, coarse-featured, scowling sheriff resem 
 bled a bull-dog. Don Barnett alone seemed not a part 
 of the general massing of prejudice and passion, and yet 
 
 329 
 
Hesper 
 
 he was one of the most pitiless of them all. The mayor, 
 a large man with a plump and smiling face, seemed the 
 one man likely to side with a peace messenger. The 
 secretary to the committee was a tall young Swede, or 
 Dane, with a most unexpected vein of humor. He 
 was called " Baron," whether in joke or in earnest Ray 
 mond could not determine. 
 
 After general introductions Raymond took a seat, 
 and at Don s request reiterated his appeal for a stay of 
 the advancing hordes. 
 
 "You think they ll fight?" asked the mayor. 
 "I know they ll fight." 
 
 "How many men does this man Munro " 
 Raymond raised a warning hand. " Now, your hon 
 or, and gentlemen, I am here merely as a peace en 
 voy. I do not intend to utter one word which could 
 by any force be twisted into revealing the camp secrets. 
 If I betrayed these men my life wouldn t be worth a 
 toothpick. They would quite properly mob me." 
 
 The mayor smiled as if it were all a j oke . " Quite right , 
 Mr. Raymond. I see the propriety of your attitude." 
 " I don t," said Mackay. " Raymond and Kelly have 
 elected themselves into on-lookers. If they had taken 
 prompt action with us in this whole matter trouble 
 would have been averted." 
 
 Raymond looked at him with a glance that did not 
 waver. "We did not take action with you because 
 your ways were foolish," he coldly replied. 
 
 The mayor resumed his questions. "Who sent you? 
 Whom do you represent?" 
 "Munro sent me." 
 "Who is Munro?" 
 
 "He is the adviser of the president of the union." 
 330 
 
Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 " He s the whole thing, isn t he?" asked the mayor. 
 
 "That I cannot answer. He has the confidence of 
 the committee." 
 
 " I don t suppose it will do any good to ask about the 
 buried dynamite and the fortifications on the hill?" 
 
 "None whatever." 
 
 "Then what did you hope to accomplish?" 
 
 Raymond fired a little. "I came here to tell you 
 that if you think you can overawe this camp with a 
 thousand men or two thousand men you are mis 
 taken. Since this trouble began hundreds of the 
 most reckless and dangerous characters in the West 
 have flocked to Sky in support of the miners; these 
 recruits are accustomed to the sound of guns. Fur 
 thermore, Bozle itself in fact, the whole western end 
 of the county is tired of the domination of the east 
 ern end, and they will aid and abet the miners. Your 
 party is in a minority in the State, and you cannot 
 safely look for support to the militia; therefore, for 
 all these reasons, and because I know Munro and his 
 men, I advise, I plead with you to stay where you 
 are. There is one other consideration: The party 
 which I represent the free miners and prospectors, 
 like Kelly and Bingham and Reese have stood aside 
 from this quarrel. We have had no share in it. We 
 have kept our men out of it ; but if you march against 
 the hill many of our fellows will join Munro; and I 
 want to tell you, gentlemen, that one of these free 
 miners these rangers of the hills is more danger 
 ous than twenty little Dagoes. A hundred of them 
 would stand off five hundred of your men. Some of 
 you know the West you know the kind of men these 
 prospectors are. They are armed, every one of them, 
 
Hesper 
 
 with the best guns that the market affords; they will 
 not go out with mops and sledge-hammers. You are 
 crazy to lead men up against a camp of this kind." 
 
 The sheriff sneered. "You don t seem to realize 
 that we have a few good guns ourselves." 
 
 "Yes, only your men are hired to do their work. 
 What is the history of the hired soldiers of all time? 
 They failed when sent against men fighting from a 
 sense of duty or in defence of their homes." 
 
 "This case looks like a lot of hoodlums defending 
 their saloons," said Don. 
 
 "Well, I ll admit there isn t the same sublimity of 
 sentiment that we found in the men of Thermopylae, 
 but all the same the sense of wrong is strong enough 
 to make them all unite against you and fight like 
 demons." 
 
 His deep earnestness impressed them all, and a si 
 lence followed his last words. At last Don said: 
 
 "Gentlemen, Raymond is not merely an acquaint 
 ance, he was in my employ for some years, and he 
 is my friend. I am forced to give his words great 
 weight. I suggest that we try to arrange a meeting 
 between the miners and ourselves and the Governor 
 and reach some peaceful solution." 
 
 The sheriff leaped to his feet. "That would make 
 us the laughing-stock of the whole country." 
 
 "Better be that than a melancholy example of 
 foolish pride and obstinacy," Raymond interjected. 
 
 At this point the argument stuck. Mackay, the 
 county attorney, and the sheriff stood for war; the 
 mayor and Barnett, being for the moment under the 
 power of Raymond s earnest glance, pleaded rather 
 spiritlessly for at least a stay in proceedings. 
 
 332 
 
Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 The mayor suggested calling a larger meeting for 
 Raymond to address, but to this he made instant 
 objection. "If I cannot convince you of the folly 
 of assaulting the peak, I cannot convince a conven 
 tion of citizens. You have the power to call a halt. 
 If you decide to go on you must assume the responsi 
 bility." 
 
 "I think it all a ruse to gain time," sa;d Mackay. 
 "I think we ought to hold this man here and march 
 at once. He is known to be a friend of Munro. If 
 we allow him to go back he will inform " 
 
 "Rats!" cried Barnett. "What could he inform 
 about?" 
 
 Raymond smiled grimly. "My services as a spy 
 are not needed. Every movement you make will 
 be watched by a hundred eyes, and back of the eyes 
 will be a gun." 
 
 The mayor rose. "Well, gentlemen, I don t see 
 that we can decide anything here. We have Mr. 
 Raymond s opinion that our attack on the hill will 
 result in disaster. The sheriff is confident he can 
 win practically without a struggle. This is no place 
 to take a vote on so momentous a subject " Here 
 he looked at his watch. "And it is lunch-time. I 
 suggest that we go to lunch and meet at three o clock 
 in the committee-room." 
 
 They filed out quite promptly, only the mayor 
 having the grace to thank Raymond for his efforts 
 at peace-making. 
 
 After they were well out of the house Barnett said, 
 "You see how it is, they are inexorable." 
 
 "I see that Mackay and the sheriff are letting their 
 own poor, little, personal vanities rule their actions 
 
 333 
 
Hesper 
 
 towards a mighty serious matter. Mackay s pride 
 is hurt; he was kicked and bruised. The sheriff has 
 been humiliated, therefore he wishes to be revenged. 
 I m done. If they want to go up against those gun- 
 experts on the hill they have my full permission. 
 When they get back there will be bells tolling in this 
 burgh. It s cold up there; the snow is deep. These 
 men are not accustomed to camping why, it s suicide 
 sheer, foolish self-destruction!" 
 
 "May I come in?" asked Mrs. Barnett at the door. 
 "Luncheon is waiting." 
 
 "Certainly," said Don. "The council is over." 
 
 "You were all very quiet. I expected to hear loud 
 voices and the sound of blows." She came towards 
 Raymond, her face sweet with kindly interest. "How 
 do you do, Robert? It s good to see you; how well 
 you look!" 
 
 The sight of her kind face filled the strong young 
 fellow with memories of her goodness to him, and 
 a sense of guilt robbed his tongue of its wonted readi 
 ness. "I hope you haven t I know I should have 
 been down; but, as I wrote you, I have been busy " 
 
 She stopped him. "We will accept your apologies 
 for the moment and go out to luncheon, which is 
 getting cold." As they moved towards the door she 
 added, in a low voice, "I want to talk with you about 
 you know who." 
 
 She put him at her left hand and Ann next him, 
 an arrangement which pleased him. The table was 
 filled, as usual, with people "on their way to Cali 
 fornia," and Raymond felt himself to be the object 
 of comment both above and below board, and it irri 
 tated him a little. 
 
 334 
 
Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 "This is a long way from Sky," he said to Ann, as 
 his eyes absorbed the shining, flower -decked table 
 and its tasteful service. "You left just in time; it is 
 white with snow up there to-day, and bleak and cold." 
 
 "The peaks were hid all day yesterday. I shuddered 
 to think what might be going on beneath those clouds, 
 and now I m afraid Louis has gone back into them." 
 
 "Have you had no word of him?" 
 
 " No news whatever. I am sure he is on his way up 
 to you." 
 
 "I am starting back at once, and I will take care of 
 him. Trust him to me." 
 
 "I am very grateful to you," she answered, and her 
 eyes spoke more eloquently than her tongue. "Your 
 influence over him is wonderful. He talks of you con 
 stantly, and I feel that you have helped him in every 
 way." 
 
 His face flushed with pleasure. " I fear I am a poor 
 companion for such a boy. I would not like to be 
 taken as a model for any human being." 
 
 Her eyes were enigmatical as she replied: "I have 
 come to think your influence more valuable to him than 
 mine. He is approaching manhood. He must learn 
 of manly things by contact with life, and it is a deep 
 satisfaction to me to know that you are interested in 
 him." 
 
 "I love the lad." 
 
 "I know you do," she answered, with a tender and 
 musing voice, "and he is worthy of it. There is no evil 
 in his thought. I intended to say these things to you 
 before I came away" a gleam of humor came into 
 her eyes "but Mr. Peabody intervened; and then you 
 didn t come to see me off." 
 
 335 
 
Hesper 
 
 He looked at his fork critically. "I am not very 
 brave about some things. I hate I dread good-byes. 
 I simply couldn t see you go away. It was, or seemed 
 to be, final." 
 
 "What made you think it final?" She was looking 
 at him with an amused side glance. "What reason 
 had you?" 
 
 He rose to her humorous challenge. "There was a 
 good reason a bulky and convincing reason." 
 
 "What is the old saw about jumping at conclusions?" 
 
 "I am sure I don t know; but your going was too 
 painful for me to witness. I preferred to seem boor 
 ish " 
 
 Mrs. Barnett here interposed. "Will you have tea 
 or chocolate, Ann Marie?" and something hidden in 
 her tone appeared in her eyes, and Ann faintly colored. 
 
 "Tea, please," she said; and in this answer uttered a 
 defiant word. Mrs. Barnett s glance seemed to say, 
 "Oh, very well, if you want to monopolize him, do it; 
 but, remember, I have some rights." 
 
 Raymond, receiving a covert signal from Ann, turned 
 to his hostess. "It is a great pleasure to sit at your 
 beautiful table again." 
 
 "After so long a time. Why didn t you say that?" 
 
 "I acknowledge my guilt; but you know why I 
 wrote you and now I am in pursuit of gold. I am a 
 man transformed. I am as hot after money now as I 
 used to be careless and slothful. I have an aim in life." 
 
 "Ann has told me something of your story, and so 
 has Don. Why am I left out? Am I not worthy of 
 confidence?" 
 
 "All confidence; but I have not seen you since my 
 confessions began." 
 
 336 
 
Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 " I knew your people were nice blood tells. I wish 
 I could see the old father when his rich son drives up to 
 the door in a ta 1 ly-ho." 
 
 He was boyishly abashed. "I fear Ann has been 
 laughing at me. I don t believe I like that." 
 
 He was a little hurt and she saw it. "Ann was 
 really very nice about it, and she told me very little. I 
 guessed at the rest. By-the-way, the big lawyer left 
 very suddenly the other morning, and was not a bit 
 cheerful." 
 
 "Indeed! Are you trying to tell me something?" 
 
 "I have told it." 
 
 "Then tell me one more thing." He was eager and 
 bold at this moment. 
 
 "I can t do that, Rob. No one can. The person 
 doesn t know her own mind yet." 
 
 Ann s voice sweetly interposed. "You shouldn t 
 talk in riddles in the hearing of guests, especially when 
 one of them has the key to the riddle." 
 
 Jeannette laughed, but was reproved. "I thought 
 you were listening to Don." 
 
 "I was, but I have two ears." 
 
 " I beg your pardon " Raymond began. 
 
 "Oh, it was not your fault. I will settle with the 
 real mischief-maker after lunch." 
 
 " Ann Marie, turn your deaf ear this way. I ve only 
 this chance to talk with Rob, and I m not going to let 
 you interfere." And she boldly went on: "I m glad 
 your ambition is soaring, Rob. Why, you have every 
 thing before you. What business has a handsome, 
 young, and successful man to humble himself before any 
 woman?" 
 
 " I confess to the first two counts in the indictment," 
 ** 337 
 
Hesper 
 
 he answered, with some humor in his voice. "But as 
 to the third, I plead not guilty." 
 
 " But it is reported that you have discovered a moun 
 tain of gold." 
 
 "There was a moment when it seemed all that to me. 
 Now I am in doubt whether it will pay expenses." 
 
 Don was talking in a loud voice to a rather deaf old 
 professor who had been lecturing on the subject of 
 peaches and how to preserve them, and under cover of 
 this thundering to and fro Raymond hoped to continue 
 his conversation with Ann; but the learned man from 
 the East, fixing his keen eyes on the miner, began to 
 inquire what the men of the peak meant by their dis 
 regard of law and order; and when Raymond evaded 
 this question, the old man started in on a discourse con 
 cerning the rights of capital to employ labor in its own 
 way, and so the golden minutes were wasted. 
 
 When at last the hostess rose, the young miner s 
 heart contracted with a sudden realization that his 
 hour of grace was over, and that the time had come for 
 his return to the stern realities of life. His cabin, the 
 snow-covered peaks, the mines, and the strikers all his 
 perplexities came rushing back, and the beautiful din 
 ing-room, the ministrations of his hostess, and his deli 
 cious moment with Ann began to recede. 
 
 In the hall he extended his hand in fixed resolution 
 to Mrs. Barnett. 
 
 "Good-bye. It s hard to leave you and this glorious 
 home " 
 
 "Must you go to-day?" 
 
 "Yes. I must hurry back. Kelly needs me; and 
 then there is Louis." 
 
 "Well, if you must But do come again, Rob. 
 
 338 
 
Raymond Meets Ann Again 
 
 Don t mind who is here; come to see us. It is always 
 good to have you here." 
 
 The young man s eyes blurred a little. " I wish you 
 knew how much you mean to me," he said. "Now 
 that I am cut off from my own sister and my mother." 
 
 "I hope you won t be long. I think you should go 
 straight to them at once." 
 
 "As soon as this strike is over I will do so," he said, 
 very earnestly. 
 
 Don followed him to his room, and while resuming 
 his big boots Raymond said, "Don t let that sheriff head 
 me off; keep him for a couple of hours and I ll be out 
 of his reach." 
 
 "Don t worry about the sheriff, old man, and throw 
 your whole weight against Munro s policy of resist 
 ance." 
 
 "I ve done that from the first." 
 
 "I know you have, and some of the fellows know it 
 and respect you for it. They aren t all like the crowd 
 to-day." 
 
 Ann was waiting to see him as he came out into the 
 upper hall. It was her first deliberate motion towards 
 him; but her face gave him no hint of her quickened 
 pulses as she said: "Give Nora my love, and greet 
 grand old Matt for me, won t you? I feel as if I ought 
 to go back " 
 
 "You must not, much as we all need you. This is 
 no time for you to be there. I wish Nora would come 
 down " 
 
 I wish she would ; and please let me know instantly 
 that Louis is safe with you." 
 
 "I will do so. When do you go East?" 
 
 "Not till spring." 
 
 339 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Then I may see you again." His words formed a 
 declaration as well as a question, and his glance meant 
 more than his tone. 
 
 Her eyes fell. "Perhaps." And she added, with 
 an upward glance, "If you visit us soon." 
 
 "That I will do. Good-bye." 
 
 "Good-bye, and please don t be reckless." 
 
 Jeannette followed him out upon the porch. "What 
 have you been saying to Ann up there on the moun 
 tain-top? I never saw such a change in a girl in my 
 life. It is incredible. She is in superb health, but that 
 isn t what I mean. She is so different in her manner. 
 I believe she is in love with you, Rob." 
 
 A fire glowed an instant in his eyes, then faded. " No, 
 you are mistaken. I think she likes me and trusts me, 
 but nothing further." 
 
 By this she knew he had spoken. " My advice is an 
 old one, Rob; don t take the first no for an answer." 
 
 The air was balmy and the sky bright as he rode 
 away towards the peaks round which the most por 
 tentous clouds were still rolling in stately blue masses. 
 
XXIII 
 Louis Calls for Ann 
 
 RAYMOND looked back occasionally, half expect 
 ing pursuit. He could see in the valley below 
 the town the gleaming white tents of the little army 
 hesitant to march, and its plan of invasion seemed 
 born of folly and madness. Then, lifting his face to 
 the great, glittering peak, he recalled a line from a 
 poet, wherein a mountain asks, with scornful pity, 
 "Why so hot, my little, man?" 
 
 The sun was low, half hid behind the Hesperean wall, 
 as he topped the divide, and the young miner caught 
 his breath with joy of the scene, profoundly regretting 
 that Ann could not have been by his side. It was an 
 overpowering spread of earth, richly glowing with yellow 
 and purple and deep blue, a vast, crumpled sweep of 
 lesser hills rising to the golden-haloed, pale-violet, ser 
 rate line of high peaks to the west. Almost beneath 
 him lay Sky-Town and Bozle, their houses mere flecks, 
 their teams slow-paced beetles, their footmen midgets. 
 
 With a last deep inspiration of its beauty, he spurred 
 his horse down the trail to meet the night which rose 
 to meet him from the valley like a chill, engulfing flood. 
 An hour s brisk ride brought him to the open, and just 
 at the edge of the peak he came upon a forlorn camp, a 
 small tent under a fir, and a group of four men sitting 
 
 34i 
 
Hesper 
 
 about a fire. At their call he turned and rode up to 
 them. They were an outpost of Munro s guard, a part 
 of the cordon he had thrown round the peak and camp. 
 
 One of them knew him, and, greeting him pleasantly, 
 asked where he had been. 
 
 He replied, with candor, "I ve been down to the 
 Springs to induce those yaller-legs to put off their 
 expedition." 
 
 "What luck did ye have?" 
 
 "None. They re coming." 
 
 The other men left the fire and drew near with in 
 credulous oaths. 
 
 "You don t mean it!" 
 
 "Sure thing," Raymond replied. 
 
 Significant glances passed between them, and the fire 
 light brought out stern lines on their faces. At length 
 Brown, the corporal, said, solemnly: "Well, if they 
 want fight, they can have it. But say, Rob, does the 
 captain know you re on the road? There was a hulla 
 baloo in town about you last night. A lot of the fellers 
 think you went down to give away the camp, and some 
 said if you ever came back they d string you up. Now, 
 I guess you better stay here while I ride up and tell the 
 cap you re here." 
 
 "I don t think that s necessary, but you might jog 
 along with me if you want to go. Otherwise, I ll go 
 alone." 
 
 "Well, I ll tell ye, Rob," said Brown, in an em 
 barrassed way, "these monkeys on the peak have 
 got an awful slant against you and Kelly, and they s 
 two or three fellers who are working against you 
 underhand right along. You don t want to take no 
 chances; they ll do ye if they can." 
 
 342 
 
Louis Calls for Ann 
 
 Raymond was impressed with Brown s earnest 
 ness and by the admirable loyalty of his fellows 
 camped there in the snow. "Boys, what are you 
 staying here for?" he asked. "This isn t a picnic. 
 What do you do it for?" 
 
 Brown answered, "We do it because we want to 
 help these miners stand off the plutes. " 
 
 "But it s none o your funeral. Why don t you 
 let them fight their own battles?" 
 
 Brown shifted his quid in perplexity. "Well, you 
 see, it s like this: these Dagoes are no good in work of 
 this kind. They can t ride, or handle a gun and then 
 we ve got it in for these thugs that s comin up against 
 em. We re down on them yaller-legged dudes from 
 the Springs who want to own the earth and kick the 
 rest of us off it. If they s goin to be a scrap we want 
 to be on the pore man s side that s about as nigh as 
 I can come to it. Ain t that the idee, boys?" 
 
 "That s about it, corporal." 
 
 Raymond mused. "But you re friendly towards 
 Kelly and Raymond?" 
 
 "Sure thing. You fellers are all right. You ve 
 punched cows, and Kelly is an old bronco - buster 
 himself. But let me tell ye this, Rob, we re goin 
 to need you and your men if these chaps come up 
 here the way they talk o doin with Gatling-guns 
 and all that. The boys have been rollin logs for a 
 fort all day. You can just about see it from here 
 just on that point." 
 
 "Well, suppose we ride along," said Raymond, 
 and as he took a last look around his heart warmed 
 to these rough souls who had taken sides in a quar 
 rel not their own, moved by a blind desire to aid 
 
 343 
 
Hesper 
 
 their fellows in a war against privilege and social 
 caste. 
 
 Brown called another man out of the group to ride 
 with them, and they started away. He said to Ray 
 mond, "I hope your guns are all in running order; 
 we may bunt up against some of them wild -eyed 
 cusses who want to hang you." 
 
 It was deep night, keenly cold and very still as 
 they climbed the hill, and once, as they paused to give 
 their horses breath, a distant shouting reached their ears. 
 
 "More slang-whanging," remarked the third man. 
 
 "They s a man a-yellin and poundin the air from 
 a box most any time now," said Brown. "Oh, 
 they re frothin mad up there. I guess we d better 
 make a little side-play here and not disturb the meet- 
 in ." 
 
 On the hill east of the town and overlooking the 
 valley, lights could be seen nickering. The corporal 
 lifted his arm and pointed that way. "There they 
 are building the fort." 
 
 Raymond s blood began to stir, his military in 
 struction to freshen, and for a moment, as he paused 
 there in the darkness, he understood something of 
 Munro s joy in a defensive campaign; but he said 
 aloud: "It s all a mistake, Brown; they can t afford 
 to fight the sheriff. The law is on his side." 
 
 Brown grimly replied, "Well, we ll give him a little 
 run for his money, anyway." 
 
 Raymond smiled at the boyish quality of this re 
 mark, but made no comment upon it, and allowed 
 himself to be led by a roundabout path to the west 
 side of the town. At last his guide paused. "You re 
 all right now." 
 
 344 
 
Louis Calls for Ann 
 
 I wish you d tell Jack I m here and that I want 
 to see him," said Raymond. "I m much obliged to 
 you." 
 
 "Oh, that s all right, Rob, take keer o yerself," 
 and the two men rode off. 
 
 "Good-luck, boys." 
 
 As he rode up to Kelly s cabin and called out, 
 "Hello, the house!" Matt opened the door, and, with 
 a lad on either side of him, peered out. "Is that 
 you, Rob?" 
 
 "The very same, Matt." 
 
 "Well, now, wait a whist and I ll come and put 
 out your horse." 
 
 Mrs. Kelly called, cheerily: "Rob, we re glad to see 
 you safe returned. Are you hungry?" 
 
 He slid from his horse. "I am empty as a wolf 
 in March," he replied. "Where s Louis?" 
 
 "Louis! He hasn t returned. Didn t you leave him 
 at the Springs?" 
 
 "No; he left early this morning and Ann thought 
 he had hit the stage-road for the camp. I hope he 
 hasn t gone wrong." 
 
 This news took away a large part of his pleasure 
 in the friendly hearth to which he was welcomed, 
 and removing his outer garments he bent to the blaze 
 in silence, while Mrs. Kelly spread some food before 
 him. 
 
 Kelly listened to the news of Louis disappearance 
 with less concern. "He s run into some of Munro s 
 men and is probably up at headquarters. He couldn t 
 get lost he knows the road. What s the word from 
 the valley?" 
 
 "They re comin , Matt." 
 345 
 
Hesper 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "To-night or to-morrow." 
 
 "I ve been receiving delegations and posters and 
 all kinds of warnin s. It s been a lively day on the 
 hill. They re building a fort." 
 
 "So Frank Brown told me. How do our men 
 feel?" 
 
 Matt rubbed his chin. "They re a little uneasy, 
 to tell the truth." 
 
 Mrs. Kelly interrupted. "Sit up and eat, Rob; talk 
 afterwards." 
 
 Raymond could see that Kelly was disturbed, and 
 that he had something to tell which he did not care 
 to have Nora know. It was plain that he no longer 
 minimized the danger, and his face fell easily into 
 stern lines. 
 
 Seizing the moment when his wife left the room to 
 put the youngsters to bed, the big miner laid a sheet 
 of paper before his partner. "What do you think 
 of that?" 
 
 Raymond looked at the death s-head warning, for 
 such it was, with amazement. It seemed at first 
 sight a rough joke. In one corner glared the con 
 ventional cross-bones and skull, rudely drawn, and 
 to the right and beneath them sprawled the word, 
 " Beware /" All this was amusing, but the logic of the 
 argument which followed gave him thought. "This 
 neutral business is played out," the placard went on 
 to say, "either you are for us or you are for the dudes. 
 If you are for the dudes, get out. If you are for us, 
 send in your men to help us repel the invaders. This 
 is our first warning. Remember the Red Star! (Signed) 
 COMMITTEE." 
 
 346 
 
Louis Calls for Ann 
 
 Raymond folded the sheet and returned it to Kelly. 
 "You don t think that s a josh?" 
 
 "I do not. Battle is in the air. Yesterday and 
 to-day have been wild days; nothing but guns will 
 quell this mob now. Munro can t control em with 
 out using lead." 
 
 Raymond rose. "Let s go down to my shack; we 
 can talk matters over there more freely." 
 
 "I ll be with you in a few minutes," answered 
 Kelly. 
 
 On the path to the bungalow the young man stop 
 ped with intent to sound the night. The voices of his 
 men on the dump, the roll and squeak of pulleys, the 
 puffing of his engine, the clang of ore-cars came to his 
 ears to testify that work was going on as usual, and 
 he hurried on to his silent cabin. It was warm, for 
 the faithful Perry had built a fire early in the evening; 
 and after he had lighted a couple of candles and kicked 
 the fire into a blaze the room resumed its cheerful glow, 
 but he was too deeply disturbed over Louis non-ap 
 pearance to fully enjoy it. He took out his revolver 
 and was examining it carefully as Kelly entered. 
 
 "Did ye meet with any trouble, Rob?" 
 
 "None. Some of the committee of safety wanted 
 to arrest me and hold me as hostage, but Barnett 
 stood em off. I didn t see a soul till on my way back 
 I came on one of Jack s picket -posts, where I found 
 four men camped in misery and eating snow-balls for 
 supper." 
 
 "It s strange the power he has over them wild 
 cow-boys. Drunk or sober, they do as he tells them. 
 His trouble will come with Brock and Smith, who 
 are neither miners nor cow-boys; for they are all try- 
 
 347 
 
Hesper 
 
 in to derive their power from Carter, who is dead sick 
 of the business and likely to fly the coop at any min 
 ute. Where you goin ?" 
 
 "Up-town to take a look round for Louis." 
 
 "You go not! Tis a poor time for you to visit 
 the street. They have it in their heads that you are 
 playin the spy." 
 
 "I must find that boy. He left the Springs at 
 eight this morning, and his sister is worried about 
 him." 
 
 "I will go for ye, Rob. It s too dangerous for you." 
 
 Raymond rose and laid a hand on Kelly s shoulder. 
 " See here, Matt, I want to talk plainly to you. You ve 
 got to bundle up that little wife and the boys and 
 get out of here. I m going to take a hand in this 
 game. I m going to call the independents together 
 and make a stand. I have no one, except Louis, de 
 pending on me, and if I m snuffed out it won t matter 
 so much but you must think of Nora and the lads 
 every minute. They re worth more to you than all 
 the mines on the hill. Now you pull out." 
 
 Kelly faced him. "I can t do that, Rob. If you 
 make a stand, I must be beside ye. What is your 
 plan?" 
 
 "I will not tell you unless you promise to take 
 Nora out of danger." 
 
 Kelly s face grew stern and his voice fell to a level 
 hoarseness that sent a quiver through the young 
 man s blood. "See here, boy, we struck hands on 
 this partnership. We share and share alike Matt 
 Kelly never shirked his end of anny load, and I serve 
 notice to you right here that anny call you send out 
 will be done touchin elbows with the old man. Do 
 
 348 
 
Louis Calls for Ann 
 
 ye think I ll sneak away like a scared puppy? "Tis 
 too much to ask of a man, Rob. I would not give 
 them the satisfaction of seeing the broad o me back. 
 No, I am with you and so is Nora. I am ready to dig 
 a hole in the ground and stand em off till hell freezes 
 over. I m worn out with their cornin and goin , whip- 
 sawin now on this, now on that side o the question. 
 They ve declared war on us. Now, by the powers! 
 we ll meet em half-way." 
 
 Raymond surrendered. "All right, Matt, here s my 
 hand. We ll defend Nora and the mine, too. When 
 your fighting blood is up I don t want any dispute be 
 tween us." 
 
 Kelly s eyes began to twinkle. "I begin to draw 
 me breath natural again. For weeks I ve been want 
 ing to put me fist beneath the noses of these rap- 
 scalions, but for fear of Ann and Nora I could not." 
 
 "Very well, we ll send out a call for a meeting to 
 night; the quicker we move the better. I feel as you 
 do now we are acting a man s part. There is a big 
 element here that is sick of this monkey-business. 
 Half the camp will rally in our support. I know it. 
 Then we will serve notice on Munro " The sound 
 of hurrying feet interrupted him, and a moment later 
 Louis burst into the room. 
 
 "Oh, Rob, I m glad you re here. Hello, Matt!" 
 He shook hands, breathing heavily. His skin was 
 flushed and his eyes shining. "You ought to be 
 up -town. Jack is makin em sit up. He shot one 
 man. They were building a fort, and a drunken 
 fellow" 
 
 "Take your time," said Raymond, coldly, "there 
 are several minutes left in the box. You might be- 
 
 349 
 
Hesper 
 
 gin at the beginning and tell me why you sneaked, 
 away again without saying good-bye to Ann?" 
 
 The boy was not daunted. "As soon as I heard 
 what the sheriff s plans were I wanted to leave, but 
 it was so dark; that was last night. I was afraid 
 to try it, so this morning I pulled out early." 
 "Where have you been all day?" 
 "I ve been with Jack. I met his men way down 
 the canon and they took me to. headquarters, where 
 I told my story, and then I went to supper with Jack ; 
 and then this big row came on and I stayed to see 
 that. Oh, but Jack is fine! He faced the whole 
 crowd alone. One man wanted to clean out your 
 cabin, he said it was a nest of traitors. He drew 
 his gun on Jack, but he hadn t time to pull the trigger. 
 Jack s bullet went through his arm." 
 
 Raymond, who had been studying the lad with 
 softening glance, interrupted him: "Now, see here, 
 Louis, you sit down here by the fire. Don t let your 
 words all try to get out of the corral at the same time. 
 We want to know all about it, but we don t want 
 you to hurry. It s only ten o clock, and you can get 
 over a whole lot of ground by midnight." 
 
 The two men looked at each other with grave eyes. 
 The boy was trembling with excitement, and his voice 
 was high and strained. 
 
 Kelly said, gently: "My lad, twould serve your 
 sister better if you kept out of this. I don t like to 
 see you riding between the lines as a. spy." 
 
 "I didn t intend to be a spy, but when I heard the 
 trick they were going to play, I couldn t help hurry 
 ing back. 1 
 
 "What trick?" 
 
 350 
 
Louis Calls for Ann 
 
 "Why, they re going to load all their men into 
 freight-cars, and make them keep quiet; and then 
 they re going to run them through Jack s guard at 
 Boggy, clear to the end of the rails." 
 
 "That s a very nice plan," said Raymond. "When 
 do they intend to come?" 
 
 "To-morrow night, if the guns arrive for which they 
 are waiting." 
 
 "How did you drop onto this?" 
 
 "I heard Cousin Don tell Dr. Braide. He wanted 
 Dr. Braide to follow next day in case of accidents." 
 
 "You ve told this to Jack?" 
 
 "Yes. I wanted to come and see you, Matt, but he 
 said I could tell you afterwards." 
 
 Raymond again looked at his partner. "Well, I 
 don t see that there is anything for us to do now." 
 
 "Jack told me to tell you to be on your guard to 
 night. He said he d come down and see you if possible. 
 Oh, I feel so cold," he ended, drawing nearer the fire. 
 "I m all trembly over my chest." 
 
 " I reckon you better strip off your clothes and go to 
 bed. This has been a hard day for you." 
 
 He seemed stiff, and was shivering convulsively. "I 
 believe I will. Rob, I don t feel any good." 
 
 As Raymond helped him to undress, the boy s teeth 
 began to chatter, and he drew his breath with a hissing 
 moan. "I guess I ve taken an awful cold, Rob; my 
 breast aches so." 
 
 "Matt, go ask Nora to come over and bring her 
 little medicine-case. This boy s got a chill right now." 
 
 "A swallow of whiskey will fix that," answered Matt, 
 as he went out. "I ll be back in a jiffy." 
 
 Raymond bundled Louis into bed and heaped him 
 
Hesper 
 
 with blankets and furs, his heart deeply stirred with 
 anxiety, for as the boy s mind turned from the ex 
 citement of his day s experiences to his condition, he 
 became deeply depressed; he fairly collapsed. 
 
 "Oh, Rob, what is the matter with me? My bones 
 ache like mad." 
 
 Raymond cheered him while rubbing his icy hands 
 and feet. "You overdid it a little to-day, that s all. 
 You ll be all right in the morning. You didn t take 
 clothing enough." 
 
 "I wish Ann were here." 
 
 Raymond was silent, but beneath his breath he most 
 fervently echoed this prayer, so slender and boyish did 
 Louis seem at the moment. 
 
 Mrs. Kelly, with her " emergency case" of medicine, 
 and a knowledge of sickness gained in years of maternal 
 care in the rough country, was a great comfort to Ray 
 mond, but she could not keep down his growing anx 
 iety. The boy s body was so small and frail when 
 stripped of its clothing! Under their vigorous minis 
 trations the sufferer ceased to shake, and at last fell 
 into a hot, uneasy doze. 
 
 Raymond, seeing this, whispered: "You must go 
 home. I will watch." 
 
 "No, Rob, you must sleep. I forgot you had no 
 sleep last night." 
 
 "Oh yes, I did. I took a nap at Barnett s. Please 
 go to bed." 
 
 To this arrangement she submitted, and, taking his 
 seat close by the boy s couch, Raymond studied his 
 flushed face, more concerned at that moment over his 
 temperature and pulse than with the brawling crowds, 
 the invading force, or the fate of his mine. When 
 
 35 2 
 
Louis Calls for Ann 
 
 Munro knocked on his door he went out upon the 
 threshold and reported the failure of his mission, 
 while the captain of the vedettes listened with his 
 horse s rein across his arm. At the end he merely 
 said: "All right. Let them come; they will find us 
 ready." Then added, "Did the kid turn up all right?" 
 
 "He turned up, but he has taken a chill and is burn 
 ing with fever." 
 
 Munro seemed concerned. " He had nothing on but 
 that little gray jacket. I tried to warm him up with 
 some whiskey and a supper. I hope he won t be laid 
 up. Well, now, old man, what are you going to do 
 help us or the dudes?" 
 
 "I can t decide anything to-night. I m worried 
 about this boy. If he is better in the morning, I ll have 
 something decisive to say to you." 
 
 "All right; take your time only don t take too 
 long. It s up to you to decide. Good-night. Keep 
 me posted on the boy s condition." 
 
 "What I do you ll know about," Raymond respond 
 ed, quietly. 
 
 A half-hour later Jim Dolan and two or three of his 
 fellow-reporters tumbled in, eager to know what Ray 
 mond had seen in the valley. 
 
 To them he said: "Boys, I haven t a word to say. 
 I m sorry I can t offer you a bed, for Louis, my boy 
 friend, is very sick. Dolan, I wish you would send up 
 the best doctor in Bozle. Tell him there s money in it, 
 if he comes to-night." 
 
 Dolan was sympathetic. "I ll do it, old man. I m 
 mighty sorry about the kid." 
 
 To Matt, Raymond turned. " Go on with your meet 
 ing without me. I can do nothing till this boy dodges 
 2 * 353 
 
Hesper 
 
 this fever." And Kelly went away, reluctantly, to meet 
 with the leaders of the neutral party, robbed of half his 
 resolution, for he, too, loved the sick lad. 
 
 At twelve o clock, when some of the men were pass 
 ing, he went out and called Baker and said, in the 
 tone of one who has at last decided on a plan of action, 
 " I want you to carry a message to Boggy, and see that 
 it gets there." 
 
 And Baker, having a long training as cow-boy be 
 hind him, accepted his order like a soldier. 
 
 "All right, Rob, she goes." 
 
 Raymond pencilled the telegram and handed it to 
 the messenger. "Tell the operator to send this to the 
 sheriff, and ask no questions. See that he tears it up. 
 You may meet Frank Brown you remember him 
 worked for Williams one season " 
 
 Baker nodded. 
 
 "If you do, tell him Louis is sick and you re going 
 to wire his sister; but slip round him if you can. 
 The counter-sign is Contact porphyry and slate/ 
 When you ve got the operator clicking pull out and 
 ride back hard." 
 
 The telegram was addressed to the sheriff, and read : 
 
 "They re onto your box-car game. Look out! 
 
 "A PEACE LOVER." 
 
 At one o clock Kelly returned with lowering brow. 
 "I wish you d been there, lad. They re afraid of 
 Munro and voted me down. We are to do nothing." 
 
 Raymond, submerged in the rising flood of his 
 anxiety, looked at his partner dully. "Well, per 
 haps it s better so, Matt. I gave my word to Ann 
 
 354 
 
Louis Calls for Ann 
 
 that I would care for this boy as if he were my brother, 
 and I m going to do it, regardless of every other con 
 sideration. If he grows worse I shall send for Ann, 
 and then I will have double reason to keep out of the 
 movement." 
 
 Kelly was silent for a little space, then slowly replied : 
 "I can t blame ye, Rob. She s worth more than 
 the whole dom peak and the inhabitants thrown in. 
 I m on guard to-night, and I ll look in now and then. 
 Let me know if I can help." 
 
 Raymond, waiting for the dawn, debated with 
 himself whether to ask Ann to come at once or to 
 wait. Now that he had seen her once more in the 
 comfort and security of Barnett s home, it seemed 
 cruel, almost criminal, to ask her to return; and yet 
 the boy s restless tossing and moaning indicated de 
 veloping fever, and towards daylight he called Kelly. 
 "Send a message to Ann. Louis is a mighty sick 
 boy and needs her care." And his face was white 
 with anxiety as he spoke. 
 
XXIV 
 Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 THE morning paper, which the maid brought to 
 Ann while she still drowsed in her bed, con 
 tained the news of Louis arrival at Raymond s cabin 
 and his collapse. It was only a curt paragraph in 
 the midst of wild head-lines about the mob, but its 
 wording froze the girl s blood. For a moment she 
 lay, while her mind ran over the possibilities of the 
 situation. 
 
 " All the early part of the night," the reporter went 
 on to say, " bands of clamorous men marched from 
 mine to mine, calling upon the gangs to lay down 
 their tools. Only two firms remained unintimidated 
 Reese Brothers and Kelly & Raymond. In the 
 midst of all this turmoil," said the reporter, "Ray 
 mond, one of the men most concerned, was standing 
 guard over a sick boy, and would not leave his side 
 for a moment." Ann glowed with a sense of deep 
 obligation to that watcher. 
 
 Mrs. Barnett knocked on her door and called, 
 "Have you seen the papers, Ann Marie?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What are you going to do?" 
 
 "I am going up there." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett entered. "How can you go with 
 
 356 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 that mob in possession. You must not go! It isn t 
 safe for you, and I will not consent to have Don go 
 again. Who will protect you?" 
 
 Ann flamed with wrath. "Have you no law out 
 here that will protect a girl who goes to nurse her 
 sick brother? I have nothing to do with your 
 idiotic wars. I am going up there as a citizen of 
 New York, not as a partisan of your side of this 
 struggle. I shall not leave that boy there to suffer 
 alone." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett reeled with the force of Ann s attack. 
 "Perhaps he isn t so ill he couldn t be he left here 
 perfectly well." 
 
 "I know he is ill terribly ill or Mr. Raymond 
 would not sit by his side all night when he was so 
 badly needed elsewhere." 
 
 You surely cannot blame us or even your 
 self" 
 
 Then the reaction came and Ann reached for her 
 friend s neck. "Oh, I wish I had never seen this 
 barbarous country." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett, being wise, took proper measure of 
 this mood. As she went away she said: "I will 
 call Don and we will see what can be done. * 
 
 As her indignation cooled, Ann s heart went out 
 to Raymond; his intrepidity, his loyalty, and his love 
 for Louis came back to her. 
 
 She imagined him sitting there alone through the 
 long night, hearing the tumult outside, knowing 
 Kelly s need of him, yet refusing to consider any 
 other duty. This gave her pleasure, even while it 
 indicated the seriousness of the boy s condition. 
 And Matt and Nora they were loyal, too," she 
 
 357 
 
Hesper 
 
 cried out, in a glow, "and Nora is such a good little 
 nurse." 
 
 Mrs. Barnett re-entered a few moments later deeply 
 disturbed. "I can t find Don; he must have gone 
 down-town. Some one has just phoned a message 
 from Rob. He says Louis has taken a chill, and that 
 you are to come, if you can, but not to worry. He 
 is well cared for." 
 
 "Can we reach him by telegraph?" 
 
 "The operator says there is no direct connection 
 with Sky-Town, but that the wire from Bozle to the 
 south is uncut. We can try. * 
 
 "Tell Don to wire Mr. Raymond that I am coming 
 at once, and that I will bring Dr. Braide, if possible," 
 answered Ann, alert and self-contained. 
 
 She rang Dr. Braide s telephone a few moments later, 
 and called, firmly, " Dr. Braide, I want you to go with 
 me to Sky-Town" 
 
 His cool, indifferent voice cut her short. "Who 
 is it, please?" 
 
 "It is Ann Rupert" 
 
 "Ah!" His voice changed became swift, eager. 
 "Certainly, certainly, Miss Rupert; I understand. 
 I saw the note about your brother. It will be a 
 privilege. I will run over at once and discuss the 
 best plan for getting there." 
 
 "Thank you. Please come soon, for I am very 
 anxious." 
 
 "I sympathize with your feeling." 
 
 Ann was eating her breakfast when the bell rang, 
 and the maid, at her order, brought the doctor into 
 the dining-room, looking very natty, very keen, and 
 very much pleased. This too obvious enjoyment 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 of his seivice cooled Ann s tone. "Have you had 
 your breakfast, Dr. Braide?" 
 
 He bowed and smiled, a little too gayly. "As Gen 
 eral Scott would say, I snatched a hasty chop." 
 
 She icily ignored his jocularity. "I am asking a 
 great deal of you, doctor; I will gladly recompense you 
 for any loss of patients, but this is a case " 
 
 "Please don t trouble about my patients. It is a 
 pleasure for me to serve you. I beg you not to bring it 
 down to so mercenary a plane." 
 
 "That s very kind of you, but I must insist on mak 
 ing it a matter of professional service/ replied Ann, 
 for he, too, was a suitor, and she liked him, but at this 
 moment she wanted his skill his training as a phy 
 sician, not his adoration. This he had insight enough 
 to perceive, and, dropping all gallantry, made direct 
 and practical suggestions as to the best means of 
 reaching the camp. 
 
 "We can go by the Southern Railway, and drive 
 from Sage Flat, or we can go over the stage-road. In 
 either case we must meet and pass Munro s guard; 
 according to all accounts he has a complete circle." 
 
 " I am not afraid of Munro or his men," she answered. 
 "In fact, they will be our safeguard. I will telegraph 
 to Mr. Munro that we are coming, and he will see that 
 we are protected." 
 
 "If you feel that way, then the simplest and quickest 
 route is over the old stage-road. With a good span of 
 horses and a light cart we can drive to Bozle by four 
 o clock and reach Sky-Town before dark." 
 
 "Then let us go!" she cried, rising. "I will order a 
 carriage at once, and call for you in half an hour." 
 
 "I will be ready," he alertly replied. 
 359 
 
Hesper 
 
 By means of the telephone Ann ordered the livery 
 man to harness his best span of horses to a mountain 
 buckboard. " No, I do not need a driver," she sharply 
 answered to his query. " Get them here quick!" 
 
 Before she left the receiver Barnett came rushing 
 into the room. "What s all this? Jeannette tells me 
 you re going back to Sky-Town to-day?" 
 
 "In twenty minutes I shall be on the road." 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 "No, Dr. Braide is going with me." 
 
 "Impossible! You mustn t do it! Our attack is 
 to be made to-night. The whole hill will be a battle 
 ground to-morrow." 
 
 " I can t help that, Don. I must go to my brother. 
 He needs me all the more. Think of that poor boy 
 lying there burning with fever and a batHe ^oing on! 
 Put off your attack. It s all foolish, wicked, anyhow. 
 What good will it do? You will only kill men, or get 
 killed yourself. There is enough sorrow in the world 
 without making more. I think you mine-owners are 
 all acting silly positively silly. Anyhow, I am go 
 ing." 
 
 He spoke in a calmer tone. " How are you going?" 
 
 "I ve ordered a team from the livery." 
 
 "Why didn t you take some of my horses?" 
 
 " I don t want to take them into the cold and danger 
 Tip there. Now please don t try to stop me. My mind 
 is made up, the team is ordered, and you will only 
 hinder me. Go on with your opera-bouffe campaign. 
 Take no thought of Louis or me that s the way 
 Napoleon would do all great commanders sacrifice 
 life. Louis and I will try to escape somehow." 
 
 This strange mood in the girl puzzled him and daunt- 
 360 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 ed him, and, grumbling inarticulately, he retreated, 
 seeking reinforcements, while Ann hastily ordered to 
 gether the warm things she needed. When she ap 
 peared, splendidly robed in furs, she looked like a Rus 
 sian princess on her way to her sleigh, though her anx 
 ious face belied her grandeur. 
 
 Barnett, now quite distracted, did his best to make 
 her comfortable in the scant-bodied wagon, which of 
 fered very little protection from the cold winds. 
 
 As the driver leaped out, Mrs. Barnett shrieked from 
 the piazza, "Ann, you re not going to drive?" 
 
 Ann kissed the tips of her gloves towards the house, 
 nodded, and took up the lines. "They re not pretty," 
 she said, speaking of the horses. 
 
 "They re chain-lightnin , all the same, miss. Can 
 you manage em think?" 
 
 "I m quite sure of it," she said, and drew the reins 
 taut. "Good-bye, everybody," and at her chirp the 
 lank, yellow cayuses swung in swift circle and were off. 
 
 Dr. Braide was waiting as she drew up to his door. 
 He carried a big bear-skin robe over his arm and held a 
 medicine-case in his hand. Have you plenty of wraps ? 
 It s cold up there, they say. Let me arrange this robe 
 round your feet. Shall I drive?" 
 
 "No, thank you; I will drive." 
 
 He was a little longer tucking her in than she thought 
 necessary, and her tone was a bit sharper as she said, 
 "Come, doctor, we are losing time." 
 
 The young man sprang in with flushed face and 
 shining eyes. "This is, indeed, a glorious enterprise," 
 he gayly shouted. And it was. To sit beside a splen 
 did girl on a journey towards a towering, storm-hid 
 peak, hurrying towards a battle-field in the sky, does 
 
 361 
 
Hesper 
 
 not come to many men in their lifetime. He was not 
 discouraged by her curtiiess that was probably due 
 to her anxiety; and, besides, he was the leading physi 
 cian of the town, of eminent family, and quite justified 
 in having a very good opinion of himself. Ann had 
 always been gracious to him; he had even permitted 
 himself to fancy she admired him, and on this long ride 
 in the wild, in the service to her brother, what might 
 not happen? 
 
 Ann was deeply irritated by his presence, by some 
 self-satisfaction lurking in his voice, and it was only by 
 thinking hard upon his skill and how much it would 
 mean to Louis that she was able to endure his touch. 
 In the case of Wayne Peabody this feeling of repulsion 
 amounted only to a mild distaste ; with Braide it was 
 actual shrinking. 
 
 The doctor, with carefully modulated voice (neither 
 too gay nor too grave), discussed the probabilities. 
 "We ll find the boy much better, I m sure of it. It s 
 rather curious, but I was pressed to go with the column 
 to-night to be ready in case of accident ; but declined, 
 pleading my duties to my patients; now here I am 
 going gladly, and my patients waiting." He said 
 this with full intent to have her know with how much 
 weight her lightest wish pressed upon him. 
 
 A realization of this indebtedness already troubled 
 the proud girl. She was quite ready to face a money 
 obligation, but she had asked something of this young 
 man which he would have put aside disdainfully 
 from any other person, and this fact rendered her re 
 sentful. 
 
 " However, Mr. Raymond would not even have hinted 
 at my coming had he not been very anxious, and I 
 
 362 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 will go on," she decided, though the thought of the 
 long drive with this powerful young masculine and 
 insistent personality by her side fairly frightened her. 
 "What will we talk about?" she thought. "He must 
 be careful." 
 
 "You re a wonderful whip," he began, after a si 
 lence. 
 
 "I used to do a great deal of it some years ago." 
 
 "I m afraid you ll tire let me relieve you?" 
 
 "No, I prefer to govern; it helps me bear the sus 
 pense," she added, a little more graciously. 
 
 "I can understand that," he admitted, with a keen 
 glance of admiration. 
 
 The horses were, indeed, marvels; they pushed up 
 the steep, winding road with steady stride, their awk 
 ward heads swinging. Not till they entered the canon 
 did they lag into a walk. The clouds hung low, in 
 great, gray masses, covering even the secondary peaks. 
 Patches of snow began to appear at the road-side. It 
 was a bleak, inhospitable, and silent world. Not a 
 branch was in motion. The wind, a slight, slow, cir 
 cling current of air, remained high like a hawk, uncer 
 tain of purpose. Only the trickle of water dripping 
 from the beds of snow could be heard as the horses 
 stopped now and again for a rest. 
 
 "There is something ominous in this stillness," 
 Ann said, at last. 
 
 "Where do you suppose we will meet Munro s 
 men?" 
 
 "Anywhere after we leave the half-way house, 
 according to report." 
 
 "You know this man Munro?" 
 
 "I ve met him." 
 
 363 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Is he as terrible as people think him?" 
 
 " He seemed very boyish to me and not at all terrible." 
 
 "The morning papers stated that he had assumed 
 absolute control up there and that his men were 
 drilled in true military fashion." 
 
 "So much the better for us," answered Ann, "for 
 he will see that we are protected." 
 
 After a pause the young doctor began again: " Ray 
 mond made a miraculous recovery. What a physique 
 that fellow has. I shall be interested in seeing him 
 again." 
 
 Another pause intervened. "It is singular what a 
 passion a boy will sometimes conceive for a man of 
 action like that. Don tells me that Raymond is 
 Louis exemplar, and yet to us he is merely a fine 
 young rancher." 
 
 Ann refused to be drawn into a discussion of Ray 
 mond by this lure, and Braide went on, shying a little 
 from the danger -point. "Still, these men of good, 
 natural ability sometimes develop swiftly under 
 favoring conditions. Raymond is a man of some 
 education, and to strike it rich might send him to 
 Congress. He has a strong following even here in 
 the Springs. His course has been temperate all 
 through this trouble." 
 
 Ann continuing unresponsive, he returned to the 
 weather and to admiration of the magnificent cliffs 
 round which the road ran, climbing steadily and swiftly. 
 Once or twice they met a string of freight teams, whose 
 drivers stared heavily at the sight of a pretty girl in 
 superb furs driving a pair of bony broncos. 
 
 At about eleven o clock they reached the wide 
 mountain meadow out of which the Bear Creek fell. 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 The clouds hung just above their heads, a broad, 
 seamless, gray roof, and as they drove across the 
 level ground the landscape grew steadily bleaker and 
 more desolate, and the wind, unimpeded by forests, 
 cut remorselessly as it swept into their faces. Much 
 as she disliked to do so, Ann was forced to yield the 
 reins to Braide, her hands being numb with cold. 
 
 At the half-way house they found a stage-load of 
 people and several freighters, and every man s mouth 
 was agape. Braide sprang out, briskly calling to a 
 slouchy individual who seemed a little in advance 
 of the other loafers: 
 
 " Can you stable our team for an hour?" 
 
 "I reckon we kin, stranger; that s what we re here 
 for." 
 
 "Very well, do so, and blanket them," he added, 
 and Ann liked him for that. 
 
 The tavern was a survival of the days when rail 
 roads were of the far-away future; a long, low, log 
 structure with a roof of dirt out of which dead weeds 
 flaunted. The front room, which swarmed with men 
 in rough clothing, seemed to be a country store and 
 post-office as well as an eating-house. A small, active 
 old woman met Ann with toothless grin. "Step right 
 this way and get out o the smudge." 
 
 Ann followed her into a minute bedroom which 
 opened off the dining-room. The old woman began 
 to clatter. "Put off your things here. My! but 
 them s fine furs! Did ye drive up from the Springs? 
 Wait a second, and I ll get some hot water." She 
 was miraculously spry for one of her age, and soon 
 returned, her eyes gleaming with a new thought,. 
 "Are you going on to the camp?" 
 
 365 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Wai, you ll find it lively up there! As near as 
 I can learn they mean biz!" she whispered. "Some 
 o Jack Munro s men are in there now eatin . They 
 keep a mighty sharp watch on who comes in these 
 days. Soon s you re ready I ll put you and your man 
 down at my end of the table and I ll look after ye." 
 
 Ann laid aside her furs, but retained her hat, and 
 as she re-entered the room made a dazzling appeal 
 to those rough fellows, who eyed her with sly side- 
 glances. 
 
 Braide, already seated, rose to meet her. "We 
 have reached an outpost of the guard, and will be 
 interrogated before we leave, I fear." 
 
 " I am quite ready to meet them," she replied, bend 
 ing to her plate. "They can t refuse to let us pass." 
 
 The talk at the table was not illuminating. Each 
 man apparently strove to fill his paunch before his 
 fellow. Only one of them seemed to study Ann and 
 her companion with candid interest. This was a small 
 man with a chin-beard and an eye as keen as that of a 
 blue jay. His voice was a drawling nasal and his man 
 ner assured. As the other men filled up and left the 
 table, he came down and carelessly took a seat near 
 Braide. 
 
 "I reckon I ve seen you before," he began, pleas 
 antly. 
 
 "I shouldn t wonder. I m Dr. Braide, of Valley 
 Springs." 
 
 The stranger glowed. "Why, sure thing! That s it. 
 I heard you make a speech once in a county conven 
 tion. You re the man that treated Rob Raymond, 
 aren t you, out to Barnett s ranch?" 
 
 366 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 "The very same." 
 
 "Where you aimin to go now, if it s a fair question?" 
 
 "To Sky-Town." 
 
 "People ain t travellin that way much just now." 
 
 "Goin to treat somebody?" asked the old woman, 
 who was hovering near. 
 
 Ann interposed. "Yes, he is going up to treat my 
 brother Louis, who is lying very ill at Mr. Raymond s 
 cabin." 
 
 The stranger glowed again. "Well, now, I m glad 
 you told me that. I ve heard of you, and I ve met 
 Raymond s kid, as we call him. So he s sick, is he? 
 Well, it s a bad time to be sick. He d better be down 
 at the Springs. Still, a feller can t always choose times 
 to be sick. Didn t see nothin of the sheriff s army on 
 the way, did ye?" Here he winked at Braide. 
 
 The doctor smiled. "Not a thing. I don t think 
 they ve left the valley yet." 
 
 "I d advise em not to. I m glad you re going up. 
 That s a fine boy, that brother of yourn, madam. I 
 hear he can draw a horse and put a man on him natural 
 as life. I m going over to the camp myself, and if you 
 don t mind I ll jest nacherly jog along a rod or two 
 ahead of you to show you the road." 
 
 During this conversation every one but a boy at the 
 opposite end of the table had risen and walked out, 
 only the old woman and the girl waiter seemed un- 
 disguisedly listening. 
 
 As he rose to go, the stranger said: "If so be it you 
 folks have any influence with Rob Raymond, preach 
 him into joining the movement. It 11 be a mighty 
 sight safer for him, and a big help to the miners." 
 There was a notable dignity and gravity in his face and 
 
 367 
 
Hesper 
 
 voice as he uttered this, and, as if in answer to Ann s 
 unspoken query, he added: "Yes, I m a mine-owner 
 myself. I stood out for a while like Kelly. I m one of 
 the old-time burro-punchers but, after all, the work 
 ing-miner is my people. If I had a million I wouldn t 
 fit in with Mackay and Barnett and their dude friends." 
 
 After the miner left the room, Braide said: "We re in 
 the enemy s country. He was plainly warning us, and 
 his going along is in the nature of an armed guard." 
 
 " His escort may be of use to us," replied Ann. 
 "Who was that man?" she asked of the old woman, 
 who fairly whispered her answer. 
 
 "That s old Steve Adams. He s boss of this squad. 
 All six o them men are Munro s pickets." 
 
 "We have fallen into good hands," said Ann. "I 
 like that little man, he s so gentle." 
 
 " Gentle! Wai, if the yarns they tell of him is true, 
 he is pizen as a rattlesnake, for all he s so low- voiced. 
 We re all skeered to death of him." 
 
 "You don t sympathize with the miners, then?" 
 asked Braide. 
 
 "Wai, now, sometimes I do, and then again I don t." 
 
 " Depends on the run o custom, I suppose?" retorted 
 Braide, rather cynically. 
 
 "How?" she asked, a little bewildered. 
 
 Ann put an end to this. "We must be going;" and 
 the old lady never did understand the doctor s remark. 
 
 As Ann walked out through the front room, blue 
 with smoke and filthy with spittle, her face was im 
 passive as marble, but the lines of her lips were disdain 
 ful. "They are such nasty brutes," was her thought. 
 The teamsters on their part became silent as she passed, 
 and those in her path fell back against the counter as 
 
 368 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 if fearing the touch of her sweeping cloak. But eack 
 man s eye, round, furtive, followed her stately stepping 
 as if eager to fix in his brain this unexpected vision 
 of superb young womanhood, and when she had passed 
 from sight one man looked at the others, and, drawing 
 a deep breath, uttered a low oath: "Man! She s a 
 peach!" 
 
 Ann drew a deep breath also, but it was of the pure, 
 outside air, in hope of driving out every least atom of 
 the odor which had sunk deep into her lungs. She 
 shuddered as though she had suffered some defilement 
 from the glances of the loafers. By contrast, Dr. 
 Braide was a dazzling creature, and she submitted to 
 the touch of his hand to her elbow with less of the re 
 pulsion which filled her at the start. She also per 
 mitted him to drive, for her hands were tired. 
 
 The clouds began to lift, rolling slowly, ponderously, 
 reluctantly upward from the timbered slopes, unveil 
 ing crag after crag of purple-gray rock, while far to 
 the west a narrow gap in the hurrying ranks permitted 
 the blue sky to be seen. 
 
 Their guide rode rapidly, signalling the doctor now 
 and then to keep pace with him, and after nearly an 
 hour of fairly level ground the road entered another 
 canon and crawled upwards along a prodigious wall, 
 which beat back the clashing roar of a small but very 
 swift stream of water. The tired horses lagged up this 
 grade, and the horseman before them pulled up and 
 fell in behind to talk a little disjointedly. 
 
 "Your brother passed through here yesterday, so 
 the boys say. I didn t see him. He was all right then , 
 but he weren t dressed for this kind o weather. Like 
 ly he took a chill. He don t look overly strong. 1 
 24 369 
 
Hesper 
 
 hope it ain t nothin serious. Feared to be a right 
 likely kind of a boy." 
 
 Ann did not attempt to reply to his prattle, and he 
 seemed not to expect it, and, after a few more discon 
 nected remarks, rode ahead again and remained there, 
 his graceful, small figure swaying most picturesquely to 
 the motion of his horse. 
 
 "He carried a rifle under his thigh and a revolver 
 under his coat," remarked Braide. "Did you notice 
 them?" 
 
 " I saw the rifle," Ann quietly replied, and thereafter 
 they rode practically in silence. It must have been 
 about five o clock when they rounded the base of the 
 Black Cone at the head of the canon, and looked away 
 across the big camp and far out upon the valley to the 
 west. The clouds still hung low on Mogalyon, and the 
 shadow rested on Sky-Camp; but the mighty "Hes 
 perian wall," as her father called it, was bathed in a 
 flood of sunlight so pure, so dazzling, that each pro 
 digious peak seemed translucent as a lily. The white 
 mass rose into the deep blue of the western sky, as 
 summer clouds loom after rain sharply defined, yet 
 soft as down. 
 
 The girl cried out with delight. "Oh, that wonder 
 ful range, always so beautiful, yet never the same. We 
 are in the shadow, they are in the light. I am taking 
 that as a good omen. There must be peace on the 
 ether side of this ugly contention between the valley 
 and the peak." At the moment it expressed to her 
 some of the magic, the mystery, and the allurement 
 with which it called to her father a quarter of a cen 
 tury before. 
 
 Adams, their guide, was a considerable distance in 
 37 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 advance v/hen a couple of horsemen encountered them. 
 After a moment s conference one turned back and the 
 other came on swiftly. 
 
 Ann s heart glowed with the hope that it might be 
 Raymond with a message from the sick one. But it 
 proved to be Munro. She recognized his mount and 
 his way of riding long before she could distinguish his 
 face. He came up swiftly, and, setting his horse upon 
 his haunches, leaped cavalierly to the ground. 
 
 "Good-evening, lady," he called, as he approached 
 the wagon. "Have you journeyed far?" 
 
 "How is Louis?" asked Ann, quickly, with instant 
 revolt of his assurance. 
 
 He felt the impersonal rebuke of her manner and re 
 plied, simply: "He is better this afternoon, so I hear. 
 I have not had time to call. It is a pleasure to see you 
 again." He fixed his eyes on her companion. "I 
 don t think I know you," he said, with a challenging 
 inflection in his voice. 
 
 "I am Dr. Braide, of Valley Springs." 
 
 Ann explained. " Dr. Braide comes to attend to my 
 brother." 
 
 Munro s face lost its reckless smile, and he looked 
 worn and pale. "Doctor, I m glad to meet you. I d 
 like you to attend a patient of mine. In a conflict of 
 authority I maimed a man, and he needs skilled at 
 tendance." 
 
 "I ll do what I can for him, after my visit to the boy. 
 What news have you ? How is everything on the hill ? 
 
 "Very quiet, just now. We are waiting for the 
 sheriff and his army. We are on the defensive." 
 
 "We must hurry on," interrupted Ann, warmly im 
 patient of Munro s glances. 
 
Hesper 
 
 Braide chirped to his horses, and Munro swung to his 
 seat and galloped after. At the foot of the hill he 
 called: "Keep that winding road; it will bring you to 
 the top, near Kelly s. I ll meet you there." 
 
 The peak was more than quiet, it was silent. No 
 longer did the brakes of the ore wagons and the trucks 
 cry out. The tall, iron smoke-stacks were stripped of 
 their purple banners. The jaws of the stamp-mills idly 
 gaped. The metal-cars stood in contemplative cairn 
 on the apices of their dumps. Around each shaft- 
 house one or two watchmen moved listlessly. It was 
 as if a palsy had fallen upon every able-bodied work 
 man, causing a swift-devouring decay to set in. 
 
 "What a change!" exclaimed Braide. "I was here 
 just before this trouble began, and these hills teemed 
 with men " 
 
 There is one smoking chimney ; it must be the Ray 
 mond & Kelly mine." Ann pointed away up the hill. 
 
 "How do they keep going?" 
 
 "The strikers fear them, and, besides, Munro and 
 Raymond are old acquaintances. I think he protects 
 them." 
 
 As they rose the sun sank rapidly, and, short as the 
 distance appeared, they were nearly an hour climbing 
 to the foot of the overlook. Ann ached with impa 
 tience, but the horses were weary and too breathless 
 to be hurried. The peak became each moment more 
 inexorable, more sinister. With the thought of Louis 
 and his needs, the physical barriers grew greater and 
 more numerous distances lengthened. 
 
 Raymond was standing at the Kelly s door as they 
 drove up, his face sombre, his eyes clouded. He could 
 not speak, so deeply was he moved; but, with a nod at 
 
 37 2 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 Braide and without a word, threw back the robes 
 and reached a hand to help her. "How is he?" she 
 asked, with a catching of the breath. 
 
 "He is very ill, but I think " his voice failed him 
 for a moment. "I m glad to see you, doctor. He 
 needs you." 
 
 Everything whirled before Ann. " If he should die 
 oh, if he should die! It s all my fault!" she wailed. 
 "It s all my fault!" and her numb limbs refused to 
 move. 
 
 "Don t say that," he urged. "I ve gone over it a 
 thousand times. I don t see that any one is to blame. 
 I know you are not! Come, we must go to him." 
 
 In that instant something seemed to pass between 
 them some invisible, intangible bond was established. 
 Ann put out her hand and he took it gently between 
 his palms. "Be brave, dear girl," he said, tenderly. 
 
 She suddenly roused herself and hurried towards the 
 cabin. Mrs. Kelly came to meet her with arms opened 
 wide, her sweet face pale with pity. " Oh, Ann, darlin , 
 we re needin ye!" 
 
 Ann went to her for an instant, then put her aside 
 and knelt beside the bed. Her heart grew icy cold with 
 the horror and the pity of seeing that blithe, boyish 
 face set and livid, the brows grave with the gravity of 
 battle. His eyes were closed, and, at the moment, he 
 appeared to be dying. She caught his lax hand and 
 kissed it passionately. "Louis, speak to me! Speak 
 to sister!" 
 
 Her low cry pierced Raymond s heart, and, while he 
 stood helpless, sick with sympathetic pain, the doc 
 tor took Ann gently by the arm. "Please leave me 
 alone with Louis for a few minutes. Trust him to me." 
 
 373 
 
Hesper 
 
 Ann turned blindly towards Raymond, her throat 
 aching with sobs of remorse. "Oh, if I had only stayed 
 here!" 
 
 Raymond turned comforter. "The doctor is right. 
 His case is not decided yet. You must remember how 
 strong and well he has been. He s not the pale slip he 
 was when he came here. Please go over to the house 
 and let Nora make some tea for you," he pleaded, and 
 at last she yielded, and with a final look at the sick 
 boy went out with Mrs. Kelly. 
 
 With that half-superstitious confidence which even 
 the most intelligent feel when the doctor is present, 
 Raymond soon followed. He was tired tired! His 
 long ride to the valley and back, his lack of sleep 
 but especially his anxiety had worn upon him so that 
 now, when he could shift some part of his responsi 
 bility, his steel-woven frame began to quiver and his 
 brain to thicken. He sank into a chair and laxly looked 
 at Ann. 
 
 " It is sweet to see you," he uttered, slowly " doubly 
 sweet because of Louis. We ve done our best, Nora 
 and I. I was in agony for fear you would not come 
 to - night. I didn t want to shirk responsibility or 
 labor but I I wanted you. It s been a long day 
 for me." 
 
 Mrs. Kelly explained: "Rob is dyin for lack o 
 sleep. That s the truth. He wouldn t leave the boy, 
 and after riding all the day and the night before. 
 But come now, have some tea both. My mind is 
 easier since the doctor came. Sure I know he will 
 check the fever, never fear that." 
 
 Raymond soon put down his cup and rose. "Your 
 drink has done me good, Nora; I will go back to the 
 
 374 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 doctor and see if he needs help. You stay here," he 
 said to Ann, and his voice was intimate and tender. 
 "I will report at once." 
 
 When he re-entered a few moments later his tone 
 was cheerful. "The doctor has made his examination 
 and is confident of heading off pneumonia." 
 
 Ann s face lit with joy. "Oh, did he say that?" 
 She reached both her hands to him. "Now you can 
 go sleep; I will watch to-night." 
 
 Together they returned to the bungalow, and Ray 
 mond, after a moment s conversation with Braide, 
 threw himself on his couch. "Ah! this seems good," 
 he exclaimed to Ann, and fell asleep almost instantly. 
 
 She drew the robe over him with careful hands and 
 turned to Braide, " I m so grateful to you, Dr. Braide." 
 
 "Don t speak of it. To serve you is a very great 
 pleasure to me." His tone was sincere and manly 
 and helped to reinstate him in her esteem. "I m 
 ferociously hungry," he added, "and the banging of 
 pans in the shack back of us is suggestive, not to say 
 tantalizing." 
 
 "You are to eat supper with the Kellys," she an 
 swered. "I think you would better go over to the 
 house now. I will stay with Louis." 
 
 He protested against this, but she had her will. 
 "In case he grows restless," he said at the door, "call 
 me. However, I will return in half an hour, prob 
 ably." 
 
 A suffocating throb of tenderness rose in Ann s throat 
 as she bent above Louis flushed face and listened to 
 his troubled breathing. Life seemed a very feeble and 
 evanescent power in his slender frame, and the persist 
 ence of his heart-beat a miracle. Raymond lay in pro- 
 
 375 
 
Hesper 
 
 ioundest slumber, his face in shadow, but his presence 
 was most palpable and appealing. Somehow, since 
 the touch of his hands to hers, he seemed nearer, less 
 strange, and an impulse to stoop and touch his fore 
 head with her lips came to her. She felt herself in the 
 grasp of some new and searching power, an influence 
 which she had resented, with which she now battled. 
 
 Nora came softly in. "Ann, dear, the supper is 
 on the table; go you along and eat. You re needed 
 to keep the peace." 
 
 "Peace between whom?" 
 
 "Munro and Matt." 
 
 "Is Munro there?" 
 
 "He s waiting to see you. Keep him from Matt; 
 he s in a bad temper to-night." 
 
 Ann went out with a wrinkle of vexation on her 
 brow. 
 
 Munro was waiting just outside the door in the clear, 
 yellow dusk. 
 
 "How is the boy?" he asked, as she drew near. 
 
 "He is better, thank you." 
 
 "I m mighty glad to hear it. I was worried about 
 him on my own account. You see, he was brought 
 to me by one of my vedettes, and as he had a great 
 deal of information, I kept him with us." 
 
 "I hope you didn t ask him to betray his friends?" 
 
 "He was ready to talk." 
 
 "You shouldn t have listened. He is only a boy." 
 
 "It is no more than fair, lady, that one member 
 of your household should be loyal to labor." His 
 eyes burned into hers as he bent towards her. "What 
 has changed you towards me?" he asked, with stern 
 abruptness. "You give me nothing but marble 
 
 376 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 brows these days. What have I done that you shut 
 your door in my face?" 
 
 Ann experienced a certain helplessness in the face 
 of this audacity. 
 
 "What you do is of no consequence to me, except 
 so far as my brother is concerned." 
 
 He was too keen not to perceive his advantage. 
 "No woman can play with me and not get cinched 
 at some part of the game." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "You know what I mean. You were amused with 
 the wild man for a time ; you played me against Rob 
 for the fun of it, and then pulled out with Peabody. 
 Was that nice? Was that a square deal to Rob? This 
 boy s sickness is a punishment. It brings you back 
 where I count. You can t escape me so easily as that, 
 my girl." 
 
 "You are beside yourself I will not listen " 
 
 He laughed. "Oh, I don t mind; I had a little fun 
 out of it myself. I had never met just your kind 
 before, and I thought you were a little different, but 
 you weren t. You are like all the rest. I reckon 
 you ve played a hundred men in the same way, but 
 you can t play me twice." 
 
 Ann recoiled before a certain savagery in his voice, 
 and, with her hand on the latch of the door, answered, 
 very slowly: "You interested me, I admit; you re very 
 amusing at this moment, but you have no reason, no 
 right, to say that I gave you the slightest encourage 
 ment to to take this attitude towards me. It is the 
 baldest presumption on your part." 
 
 At this moment Kelly opened the door. " Is it you, 
 Ann?" He stepped aside. "Go in, girl, ye re sup- 
 
 377 
 
Hesper 
 
 per s waitin ." Ann slipped in, glad to escape under 
 the great arm which barred Munro s passage. "You 
 stay outside," Kelly said to the young desperado, and 
 his voice was dangerously calm. "I want a word with 
 you. The blood of this night s work will be on your 
 head, me lad. You can t excuse yourself by sayin the 
 committee demands it. You are the committee. Great 
 God, man, you re crazy!" 
 
 The young leader laughed. "They re the crazy ones, 
 to come up against my men on this hill with a lot of old 
 soaks, one - lungers, and ex - policemen dead on their 
 hoofs. But don t worry, there ll be no battle the clat 
 ter of a tin can will scare em into bug-house fits. Now, 
 Matt, let me finish what I came to say. We ve been 
 good friends, and I want to keep friends. You re a 
 fair man, but, let me tell you, the boys are getting bit 
 ter against you independents in this fight. You have 
 no business to stand out against the union." 
 
 Kelly harshly interrupted him. "I don t. I stand 
 out against reckless devils like you, who think they 
 can stand off the whole United States army. We ve 
 been all over this afore " 
 
 " I know we have, and now let me say that I ve stood 
 for you and Rob a dozen times, but I m done. If you 
 want to go down to history as a traitor to the cause of 
 labor" 
 
 Kelly lifted his big fist in a gesture of menace. " Lis 
 ten to me, Jack Munro; I ve been a working-miner all 
 me life, whilst you were at school whilst you were 
 playin hooky and stealin plums, and all the years 
 you ve been runnin a roulette-wheel I was pickin at 
 the rocks. If any man is fitted to advise tis Matt 
 Kelly, and not a play-actor and celluloid bunco-steerer 
 
 373 
 
Ann Returns to Sky-Town 
 
 like y rself. Go yer ways, Jack Munro, but lave me and 
 mine alone. This ends it. Ye 11 have no welcome 
 from the Kellys door after this night s work, and if ye 
 put so much as the toe of ye re boot across me path I ll 
 kill you for the reckless, murderin devil that ye are!" 
 
 Munro reeled under this gusty blast, but recovered 
 himself. "You ll be coming to me for help inside of 
 twenty-four hours, and you ll get it for the sake of Nora 
 and the kids. Good-night." 
 
 And vaulting to his saddle he rode away, leaving 
 Kelly bewildered and a little ashamed of his outburst. 
 
 "Was he intoxicated?" asked Ann, as Matt re-en 
 tered the cabin. 
 
 The old miner shook his big head in mystification. 
 
 "Drunk or sober, he s too flighty for the Kellys. He 
 slips out o me hand like sand." 
 
XXV 
 
 A Day of Action 
 
 A^AIN Ann Rupert found herself confronting a 
 question of life and death, and a sense of her own 
 weakness and dependence brought her very near to the 
 resolute young man whose silent presence comforted 
 her during the long hours of watching. The knowledge 
 that; he was there within call, ready to serve her to 
 the outrance, rendered her vigilance less lonely. Dr. 
 Braide s manner towards her had also changed. 
 was evident that he considered Raymond an accepted 
 lover. Therefore, he no longer paid court, and his care 
 of the boy remained absorbedly professional, 
 spoke with positiveness of his ability to check the 
 fever, and this confidence reached and influenced Ann, 
 though she could not put away a sense of guilt and a 
 weight of fear. 
 
 Louis came to himself just before midnight, and 
 recognized her; and though his breath was labored 
 and his face lined with suffering, it was good to feel 
 his familiar self reaching out to her from his house of 
 
 pain. 
 
 "How did you get here?" he asked. 
 
 "I drove with Dr. Braide." 
 
 "I m pretty sick. I m glad you came, sis," and he 
 put his hand feebly into hers. "Where s Rob?" 
 
 380 
 
A Day of Action 
 
 "He s sleeping. You must be quiet now, or you ll 
 wake him." 
 
 "He s been good to me." 
 
 "I know he has, laddie." 
 
 "So was Jack. I was awful hungry, and I was so 
 cold" 
 
 " Sh ! dearest , she pleaded ; don t talk now. Go to 
 sleep." 
 
 "I don t want to sleep. I ve slept enough. It 
 makes my head ache worse." 
 
 Ann glanced at Braide, who came and bent above the 
 boy. His voice was most admirably firm, yet gentle, 
 as he began: "You want to get out of here soon, don t 
 you?" The boy nodded. " Very well then; you must 
 be quiet and do exactly as we tell you. Sleep is good 
 for you. Besides, your sister needs rest, and you don t 
 want to keep her awake." 
 
 In the end he prevailed, and the boy ceased to groan 
 and twist, and at last slept; but Ann refused to go to 
 bed. Her anxiety and the many questions pressing 
 to be answered engaged her so deeply that she felt no 
 need of sleep. Towards midnight, Braide, in despair of 
 inducing her to sleep, stretched himself in a low chair 
 and fell into a doze. 
 
 It was exactly two o clock when a single gun 
 shot rang out sharply, like the voice of a sentinel 
 questioning the silent night. As the girl listened 
 tensely, three others, deeper-throated, answered in quick 
 succession. Then silence again intervened for a mo 
 ment, only to be torn by a fusillade a rat-tat-tat of 
 assault which brought Braide to his feet. 
 
 Ann hurried to Raymond, calling, sharply, Rob, they 
 are shooting! Don t you hear them? Quick! Quick!" 
 
 381 
 
Hesper 
 
 Raymond rose to his feet dizzily and looked at her 
 blankly, the mist of sleep thick in his brain. Other 
 shots and cries followed, and though faint and far, they 
 cleared his vision. Catching a belt of cartridges from 
 the wall, and turning to Braide, he sternly asked, "Can 
 you shoot?" 
 
 Before Braide could answer another shrill chorus of 
 yells, fierce as the outcry of wolves, arose, a vivid 
 light filled the room, and a second later a dull concus 
 sion shook the earth beneath their feet. Ann shrank 
 and cowered, but Raymond, menacingly quiet, re 
 marked : Well, our turn has come. They ve blown up 
 our shaft -house." 
 
 "Oh no!" cried Ann. "They wouldn t do that. 
 They daren t do that." 
 
 "That s what they ve done," he bitterly assured her. 
 Then a thought entered his mind which staggered him. 
 "The men the men were in the mine!" he shouted, 
 and rushed into the darkness. 
 
 Ann heard his blows upon the door of the other 
 cabin as he called: "Boys, roll out! The power-house 
 is blown up! The men are in the mine! Quick, out 
 with you! Buckle your guns!" 
 
 Then the girl recognized Kelly s great voice; he was 
 calling as he ran, "Rob, are ye there?" 
 
 "Yes, I m rousing the boys." 
 
 "It s the shaft-house." 
 
 "It looks that way." 
 
 "And the men, lad, the men?" 
 
 "I don t know, Matt, I ve just got on my feet." 
 
 "May the fires o hell blister the bones of the 
 man " 
 
 So much Ann heard before the sound of their feet 
 382 
 
A Day of Action 
 
 died away down the path. The sleepers in the bunk- 
 house began to rumble and clatter about on the bare 
 floors. One by one they emerged, slamming the door 
 behind them. The distant wailing of Mrs. Kelly s 
 scared children added a poignant note of fear, and 
 a moment later the little mother herself came flying 
 across the yard in her bare feet, her face white and 
 distorted. 
 
 "Oh, saints above! What have they done now? 
 Are you hurt? What is it all about?" 
 
 Ann caught her by the arms. " Where are your 
 shoes? You must go back instantly; you can do no 
 good. They have blown up the mine." 
 
 "Mother o God! What mine? Our mine? Why 
 should they do that? Oh, the fiends! What s the 
 light? Is the mill burning?" 
 
 Braide, from the doorway, called out, "Yes, the 
 wreckage is ablaze; the men are fighting it." 
 
 Once outside the door the women could see the 
 flames growing each moment in power, licking with 
 avid tongues at the confused mass of splintered beams, 
 and on the curtain of red light the forms of Kelly 
 and Raymond played in silhouette, as they strove 
 furiously against the destroyer. Their workmen soon 
 joined them, and each moment some hastening rescuer 
 hurtled past the open door, and, as he ran, cursed 
 in bitter frenzy. 
 
 "Ann!" called Louis from the bed. Faint as it 
 was, the girl heard his cry and hurried to his side. 
 
 "Yes, I m here, laddie. What do you want? How 
 do you feel?" 
 
 "My head aches so. I can t breathe good. He 
 moaned. "Oh, dear, I m so hot." The voice of 
 
 383 
 
Hesper 
 
 his anguish stung Ann to the soul. With a sign to 
 Nora commanding silence, she closed the door, in the 
 hope that no sound from the burning mine would 
 penetrate to the bedside. If at that moment she 
 could have set her foot on the swarming camp as on 
 a nest of vermin she would have done it, so valueless 
 were their lives in her indignation and despair. Of 
 such revenges she had read ; now here they were, break 
 ing forth at her feet like fountains of blood and fire, 
 imperilling the lives of innocent women and children. 
 
 Nora hurried back to her cabin, while Braide 
 dropped some helpful drug upon the boy s tongue. 
 When his patient had grown quiet, the young phy 
 sician said: "If you are not afraid, I will go down. 
 Some one may be hurt and my help required." 
 
 "Go; I am not afraid," she commanded. "Only, 
 remember your first duty is here." 
 
 "I do not forget that," he answered. But even 
 as he was collecting his outer clothing and his medi 
 cines, Raymond flung the door open and entered. 
 His hands were blackened and bleeding, his head 
 was bare, and on his face was a look that thrilled the 
 girl. "Doctor, three wounded men are coming up 
 the hill they must be made comfortable. Ann, you 
 would better go back to Kelly s; these victims must 
 be sheltered here, and they are not pleasant to see." 
 
 Ann felt herself diminishing in power and impor 
 tance as he spoke. His voice came from the man s 
 world harsh, inflexible but she uttered a protest: 
 "Louis!" 
 
 His face softened and his hand went to his brow. 
 "I forgot; you are right, we must not endanger him. 
 I will have the men taken to the other cabin." 
 
 3S4 
 
A Day of Action 
 
 "Are the men in the mine all dead?" 
 
 "We can t tell. The engineer and some of the 
 men on the dump were warned and escaped: The 
 rest are below and out of our reach. We are working 
 desperately to subdue the flames, but we are almost 
 helpless for lack of water." 
 
 "It is horrible!" 
 
 His voice was very quiet as he said, "Munro 
 shall answer for this!" 
 
 "Did he do it?" 
 
 "He did not prevent it!" He lifted his eyes to 
 the sky. "It will soon be light, and then we can see 
 to work." 
 
 He turned to leave without further explanation, 
 but Ann called to him, "Send us word when you 
 can, won t you?" 
 
 "As soon as we know the men are alive I will come 
 and tell you," he promised, and hurried away into 
 the gray dusk of the dawn; and his anger, his aloof 
 ness, his furious self-restraint raised him in the esti 
 mation of the girl. Gallantry at such a time would 
 have been as noisome as drunken laughter. 
 
 And as she watched and waited, the day came 
 leisurely, laggardly, over the hills, and swarms of 
 excited men and slattern women poured from their 
 shacks and tents and holes in the rocks to acquire 
 in detail the news of this midnight assault on the 
 leaders of "the independents." To do them justice, 
 even the most virulent unionists were for the mo 
 ment moved to sympathetic denunciation. The de 
 struction of property was one thing the murder 
 of workmen quite another. As for the crews of the 
 non-partisans, they were ready at the word of a. 
 385 
 
Hesper 
 
 leader to search out and lynch those who laid the 
 train and fired the fuse ; but to all of these Raymond 
 gave the same word of command, "Save the men 
 below." 
 
 On the heels of this tumult, as if to pile Pelion on 
 Ossa, messengers came shouting through the sun 
 rise: "The deputies have come! The sheriff s army 
 is camped on the park!" 
 
 Instantly the throng of idle sightseers swept back 
 towards the town, leaving not so much as a word of 
 well-wishing to stand in their places. The ruin of 
 the Kelly mine became a small thing to them, now 
 that the real battle was on. 
 
 "Where is Jack Munro?" timorous people asked. 
 "Where are the vedettes?" No one seemed to know, 
 and the officers of the union were in a panic. 
 
 The sheriff had, indeed, stolen a march on Sky- 
 Town, and was only waiting for daylight to discover 
 his enemy. This was his capital mistake. Had he 
 pushed against the enemy at that moment, with Munro 
 and his men still on a wild-goose chase down the op 
 posite canon, he might have won the hill in a blood 
 less charge; but even as he dallied, the vedettes came 
 toiling up the trail from the south, weary but full 
 of fight, and lined out on the northern slope with the 
 fort at their backs. And so at last the two forces of 
 disorder of passion and prejudice were set face to 
 face. Battle was now inevitable. 
 
 The storm that had muttered and rumbled and 
 shifted ground, and, dissipated itself again and again 
 in echoing menace, had gathered head once more 
 and was about to break in tumult. The "yellow- 
 legs" had marched. They had arrived. They fronted 
 
 386 
 
A Day of Action 
 
 the "red-necks," and their little, white tents gleamed 
 like gravestones on the russet sod. In the darkness 
 of the early night they had left the valley, and, to the 
 sound of sobbing and cheers, had entered upon their 
 winding upward course to the clouds and the snows. 
 Only Raymond s warning had saved them from defeat 
 and disaster in the canon to the south. 
 
 Yet now that they were encamped in sight of the 
 enemy they hesitated, for their leaders had been told 
 that the entire hill-side was planted with dynamite 
 strange bulbs likely to spring up at any moment in 
 destructive white clouds of bloom; and there was 
 further menace the muzzle of a great gun projected 
 across the rude embankment on the hill and its dark 
 lips seemed to utter a solemn warning; while above 
 and beyond, and more deterrent still, were thousands 
 of desperate men massed against the sky. 
 
 And over all over Raymond and Kelly, dusty 
 and bleeding, working with their men to rescue the 
 imprisoned miners deep below over the swarming 
 groups of shivering women on the hill, over the bitter 
 and savage ranks of the vedettes, over the whole great, 
 silent range, the sunlight poured in splendor warm 
 and golden as October and a soft wind from the 
 west brought rose-tinted clouds sailing like gentle 
 doves of peace from the far-off Crestones, impassive 
 and serene. "What is it all about, my little men?" 
 Mogalyon seemed to ask, concerned as he was with 
 the affairs of geologic cycles and the return of waters 
 to the sea. 
 
XXVI 
 A Last Appeal 
 
 AT sunrise Raymond reported to Ann, his face a 
 little softened. "The dynamiter Baker shot has 
 died, but our men are going to live, the doctor says." 
 
 " I am very glad to hear that. What of those in the 
 mine ? Are they released ? 
 
 "No; but the fire is out and we have cleared the 
 mouth of the shaft. The first level is blocked with 
 rocks and beams. The murderers must have lowered 
 a bomb into the mine with deliberate intent to kill." 
 
 "It is horrible to think of them down there in the 
 dark. Did you hear that the sheriff had arrived?" 
 
 His eyes darkened. "Yes, the fool ! Why didn t he 
 attack at once. Now Munro is entrenched, and they 
 are challenging each other like crowds of school-boys. 
 The time has come for the Governor to take a hand." 
 
 "Will he do so?" 
 
 "He must, or be party to the bloodiest battle ever 
 seen in the mountains. But I must go back," he said, 
 and turned away abruptly, leaving the girl with a 
 keen sense of the stress and bigness of his life. 
 
 He was, indeed, badly needed at the mine, for only 
 the men of the second shift and a few of the crews of 
 Reese and Earle remained to help. Each independent 
 mine was held to be in equal danger and to require the 
 
 388 
 
A Last Appeal 
 
 services of its most resolute men; and, besides, the cer 
 tainty of a battle had drawn away the more excitable, 
 even of their own men. Kelly was working like a Titan, 
 and his presence, his concentration of effort, inspired 
 every man to his best. 
 
 A messenger from Carter met Raymond, to assure him 
 that the union had no hand in the outrage, and the 
 young miner sternly answered, "As soon as I have 
 rescued my men, I will demand that the officers of the 
 union have something to do with finding the hyenas 
 that did do it." 
 
 Munro sent a letter by Frank Brown, wherein he 
 said, "I can t leave here the attack may begin at any 
 moment; but I am on the trail, and when I discover the 
 scoundrels I will deliver them to justice." 
 
 To this messenger Raymond said: "Tell Jack I want 
 to see him at the earliest moment. This is not a matter 
 for long-range adjustment. I want to talk with him." 
 
 Brown, with true cow-boy unconcern, grinned and 
 said: "Well, you see, Rob, Jack s busy just now. 
 They s a ball on, and he s floor-manager for our side." 
 
 Raymond was in no mood to respond to humor. 
 "Very well. Say to him that when I have dug my men 
 out, I will come to him," and something in the tone 
 of this answer stopped the grin on the messenger s 
 face. 
 
 Reporters drifted up, made hasty notes, and passed 
 on, lured by the more important material disclosed in 
 the opposition of ranked and ready warriors on the hill. 
 Only Dolan stayed, eager and sympathetic, fetching 
 coffee from the cook-house and lending such other aid 
 as he could so deeply concerned with this tragic deed 
 that he seemed wastefully negligent of his own affairs. 
 
 389 
 
Hesper 
 
 Seizing an opportunity for a private word, he began, in 
 a low voice: "Rob, I know who led this thing. The 
 union had nothing to do with it. It was done by a lot 
 of Curran s spittoon-cleaners. The fellow that Baker 
 killed is from the Springs. I ve seen him round Cur 
 ran s." 
 
 "Do you think so?" 
 
 "I know it. When you want me to tell you what I 
 know, I ll do it only not now. Wait till the militia 
 takes possession." 
 
 "Will the militia come? Has the Governor ordered 
 it out?" 
 
 "He s got to order em out now. He s a dead duck, 
 anyway." 
 
 Raymond returned to his work beside Kelly, and 
 together they tore at the rocks and beams magnif 
 icent in their leadership. Kelly s head was bare, his 
 face covered with soot, his arms bleeding, but his great 
 voice rang out like a trumpet. The blackened timbers 
 were cleared at last, but a painful delay intervened 
 while a windlass was being brought from another 
 shaft. 
 
 An hour later all was ready, and into the heavy, shift 
 ing smoke, which rose from the smouldering debris at 
 the first level, Kelly and his young partner descended 
 to extinguish the burning timbers, to clear away the 
 fallen rock, and to signal to the imprisoned men below. 
 
 Again and again they were forced to lie flat on their 
 faces with their lips touching the earth in order to 
 breathe; but at last the smouldering material was all 
 hoisted, the mine cleared, and they were able to look 
 about them, dizzy but exultant. The iron beams had 
 caught and held a huge mass of rock which the con- 
 
 390 
 
A Last Appeal 
 
 cussion had shaken from the mouth of the mine, and to 
 dig through this was the task that now confronted 
 them ; but the air of the shaft having cleared, volunteers 
 thickened, and the exhausted leaders were able to rest 
 their aching limbs and listen for signals. 
 
 They were mightily cheered by the faint but un 
 mistakable sound of knocking. The imprisoned ones 
 were calling in the well-tried fashion by hammering 
 on the rock with their sledges. They beat cheerfully, 
 as if seeking to reassure their rescuers. 
 
 "Listen!" cried Kelly, his grotesquely be-daubed 
 face, lighting into a gleeful smile. "They re all right. 
 I can tell that by their stroke. Ye see tis not like an 
 explosion from fire-damp; they ve plenty of fresh air. 
 The mine is small, and has no gas in it." 
 
 An hour later, they could hear the voices of those 
 beneath, and it was hardly more than mid-day before 
 they began to lift them out two by two in the big 
 bucket, and when they were all assembled on the sur 
 face in the bright sunlight, the worn and weary rescu 
 ers looked to be the victims of the dynamiters rather 
 than those whom the bomb had sealed up below. 
 Raymond and Kelly were especially damaged, almost 
 unrecognizable through their covering of soot and clay, 
 but they were jubilant. 
 
 Ann, hearing their shouts, came down the path with 
 Nora to meet them. Kelly s eyes were dim with tears, 
 and Ann s heart went out to him as he shouted, "They 
 are all here, and unhurt." 
 
 "But you are hurt?" she asked of Raymond, with 
 anxious, timorous voice, peering at his torn and trem 
 bling hands. 
 
 "No on iy tired." He became almost gay now in 
 
 391 
 
Hesper 
 
 reaction. "Oh, the relief when I knew the boys were 
 all right! The shaft looked worse than it was, with 
 that pitchy smoke rolling up. But we re all right now. 
 How is the patient?" he asked, as they started towards 
 the cabin together. 
 
 "He is awake, but his pulse is still rapid and he is 
 very restless." 
 
 "What does the doctor say?" 
 
 " He insists there is no danger. I think he means it. 
 But, oh, that poor boy is so sick!" 
 
 He looked down at her tenderly. "These are 
 stern experiences for you. I wish there was a way out 
 of them. If only Louis could be moved." 
 
 "Do not trouble about me," she said. "I ve been 
 all over the problem, and I ve made an end of fretting. 
 I accept all this as my discipline. All the rest of my 
 life has been wearisomely uneventful. Now I am to 
 take my share of trouble. She checked herself. This 
 will be a very serious loss to you, will it not?" 
 
 He strove to answer lightly. "Oh yes; but our 
 vein is there just the same. Luckily they couldn t 
 blow that away." 
 
 At the door of the bungalow he turned. "I must 
 leave you for a time. I must repair damages" he 
 looked at hij hands and arms "and I want to talk 
 with my men." 
 
 "I hope you are not going into this battle?" 
 His voice suddenly acquired passion. "I must 
 do something. I can t sit here and wait for these 
 devils to dynamite me out of life!" He caught 
 his breath, and ended in a calmer tone, "No, I shall 
 not go into the fight ; but I hope to take a hand in 
 preventing bloodshed." 
 
 392 
 
A Last Appeal 
 
 She put her hand on his arm. "Of course, Louis 
 and I are small things in the midst of this warfare, 
 and I suppose it is your duty to do something; but 
 you must remember your mother; you owe it to h*r 
 not to needlessly expose yourself to danger." 
 
 He turned, with an almost irresistible desire to take 
 her in his arms. " It is to protect you and Louis that 
 I must act. Don t mistake me," he added, quickly. 
 "I don t mean to say that you are in danger you 
 must not be alarmed." 
 
 She saw that he had misspoken and that a deep 
 anxiety lay at his heart. "I am not afraid," she 
 said; "I can t make it seem riot; I can t even con 
 nect this outer tumult with our quiet life here in the 
 bungalow. Go about what seems best for you to do. 
 I have been a hinderance to you from the beginning- 
 He passionately interrupted her. "If I could take 
 you and Louis out of this accursed camp I would do 
 it this moment. I would sacrifice my mine with joy; 
 but he cannot be moved, and we must keep his room 
 quiet and peaceful. That is my chief duty, now that 
 my men are safe." 
 
 "Go to your luncheon," she said, gently; "you are 
 hungry and tired." There was that in both her look 
 and tone which made an answer an impossibility. 
 To save himself from folly he turned abruptly ^ away. 
 
 He found his men in the barrack, discussing with 
 characteristic calmness the general situation while 
 waiting for their dinner. And when Perry shouted 
 "grub pile" in cow-camp phrase, each man bustled 
 to his place with cheerful clatter. Raymond drew up 
 with the rest, and for a few minutes no word spoken 
 referred to the disaster. The master s face was 
 
 393 
 
Hesper 
 
 grave with his life s problem, and the men remained 
 silent for sympathy. They were rough fellows, ac 
 customed to keen winds and crusty fare, but they 
 respected trouble; they waited for him to speak. 
 Meanwhile they ate like hungry troopers expecting 
 the bugle. 
 
 As the first man, well filled, pushed back his chair, 
 Raymond called out: "Boys, I want to say a word 
 before any of you go out. A council of war is neces 
 sary at this minute." 
 
 Those who had risen took seats again, and all faced 
 his way. As he looked at them his throat filled with 
 a realization of their loyal service, and he could not 
 find voice for a few moments, but sat with bowed 
 head, rolling a bit of bread between his fingers. At 
 last he resolutely cleared his throat and began, harshly: 
 "Well, boys, the game halts right here. You see 
 where Kelly & Raymond are they re flat. We ve 
 got a good mine if we could work it, but we can t. 
 Just about every dollar we had to spare went into 
 that machinery, and our ore shipments were just be 
 ginning. I ve been doing a little figuring, and I find 
 we can pretty near pay all that s due you, but we can t 
 do any more. If this strike were settled we might 
 get somebody to come in and help us put up a new 
 power plant, but as things shape up at this present 
 time, we re up a stump, as they say back in Ohio. 
 So I guess we ll have to let you go." There was a 
 movement among the men which he felt as a pro 
 test, but he continued: "I hate to do this, especially 
 now in the winter, but you can see how it is. Even 
 if we had the credit we couldn t get the machinery 
 on the grounds. If I were in your places I would go 
 
 394 
 
A Last Appeal 
 
 to Reese and the other independents and stick by 
 em, help them fight this thing through on fair-play 
 lines." 
 
 His slight pause brought no response. When he 
 began again his voice was softened. "And, boys, 
 ride up and tell Matt a good word. He s hard hit. 
 He s got to that time o life when a man don t like to 
 be thrown. He s been planning to kind o sit back 
 and let us younger fellows round up the stock, and 
 it s sure hard lines on the old man " 
 
 His voice trembled dangerously, and he was forced 
 to stop. 
 
 The tension was eased away by Nary, one of the 
 older men, who broke out with deep-lunged profanity 
 in order to conceal his good heart. 
 
 "Well, I don t know how the rest of you feel, but 
 I wr^nt to turn right in and put this mine into shape 
 again, and lynch the sons o dogs that blew us up!" 
 
 "That s the ticket!" 
 
 "Now you re getting wise." 
 
 Nary was encouraged. "They s a whole lot of work 
 we can do ourselves towards putting up that power 
 house." 
 
 "Why, sure thing!" said Silsbee. 
 
 "I m a jackass carpenter myself," Nary added. 
 
 "You re a jackass, all right I don t know about 
 the carpenter part," put in a wag, and the tension of 
 the moment was relieved by laughter. 
 
 "That s mighty white of you, boys," responded 
 Raymond; "and if I could see any way to do it, I d 
 take your offer, but I don t. However, if you want 
 to stay in the shack for a day or two, do so; things 
 may clear up by that time." 
 
 395 
 
Hesper 
 
 One of the men who had been imprisoned spoke 
 with quiet menace: "Well, some of us who ve been 
 underground want to do something besides wait - 
 we want to fight. We think we know the buzzards 
 that threw the powder into us, and we re hot in the 
 neck. If you say the word, we ll get a crowd to 
 gether and go up and demand satisfaction. We re 
 not in the habit of allowing a lot of sneaking coyotes 
 to do us like that." 
 
 To this several shouted assent, "Let s go and race 
 em up!" 
 
 "We know the beasts that did it." 
 
 Raymond lifted his hand. "Hold on, boys; don t 
 be too quick on the trigger. Keep cool till I ride up on 
 the hill and take a look around, and have a little talk 
 with Munro. We must rally all the independents, 
 which will take time; and, besides, you must remember 
 I have a very sick boy on my hands, and there is Baker, 
 who needs care. Don t rush. Let me go up and see 
 what the sheriff seems likely to do. As I ve told you 
 before, I ve no theory about the labor question. I 
 never was up against it before, and I m a little uncer 
 tain. I ve always believed in the best man winning. 
 I picked you fellows because you were likely chaps. 
 I m paying you the highest wages going, because you 
 earn it. You re satisfied, you say, and I don t see why 
 we are not privileged to go ahead in our own way. I 
 haven t felt any need of going into this fight for the 
 benefit of the crowd till now. It looks now as though 
 we should take a hand. Anyhow, we ll give Munro 
 another chance to do us justice, and if he don t then 
 well, we ll try some other plan." He shook off this 
 disagreeable cloak of doubt. "But be that as it may, 
 
 396 
 
A Last Appeal 
 
 boys, I shall never forget the good work you ve done 
 for me, when you knew the crowd was against you. 
 It was noble, and I m powerful obleeged, as they 
 say in Missouri; and if we ever open that mine, I shall 
 consider you partners with me in it." 
 
 The men rose and went out two by two, but several 
 of them came to him to say: "We mean business, Rob. 
 Say the word, and we ll go up and get the gang that 
 did for us. We ll rope and bind the whole outfit, if 
 you say so." 
 
 He was again in deep thought, and only absently re 
 plied: "Don t be hasty, boys. Wait till I have a little 
 time to work out a plan." 
 
 At last only Perry remained in the room, and Ray 
 mond, perceiving him, called out, "Well, Perry, what 
 are you going to do?" 
 
 "Stay with you," he answered. 
 
 Raymond s face clouded. "I wish you were down 
 on the ranch; you re in a cold climate up here." 
 
 "I wish you d stayed there, too," cried the boy, 
 passionately. "Let s go away; I don t like it here. 
 It s no good, Rob; they are trying to kill you." 
 
 Raymond sighed. "It s all a big gamble, but I 
 can t give it up. I ve got to win out." He was talk 
 ing half to himself, half to the boy. "I don t know 
 whether I can pay you full wages or not, but if you ll 
 stay I ll see what can be done for you. The men will 
 remain here for a few days, anyway, and you and Foo 
 can go on just as you are, for the present." 
 
 The boy s dark face lit with pleasure. "Si, senor," 
 he gayly said. 
 
 Raymond found Kelly bending over Baker, his great 
 face seamed with sympathetic lines. "Broken bones 
 
 397 
 
Hesper 
 
 at your age," he was saying, "are soon mended. You ll 
 be in the saddle all right for the spring round-up." 
 
 Raymond added a reassuring word. "Good thing 
 we had a real, city-built doctor round the shack, don t 
 you think?" 
 
 Baker smiled faintly and said, "How s the kid?" 
 
 "He s resting better. The doctor is hopeful of the 
 whole bunch of you." 
 
 As they stepped out into the warm, afternoon sun, 
 Kelly, with a jocular note in his voice, remarked, 
 "Well, Robbie, we re gents at leisure; nothing to do 
 now but play the nurse" here his voice swiftly 
 changed "or do battle." 
 
 "If it were not for the women and the sick, I d 
 fight. We have nothing to lose now, and the boys 
 are hot for it. Have you been up the street?" 
 
 "No, I have not." 
 
 " I don t see what we can do, with these two wounded 
 men and the boy and the women on our hands. Matt, 
 the real heart of this opposition is now in one man. If 
 he were taken away, these rowdy miners would scatter 
 like grouse." 
 
 Kelly turned quickly. "You mean Munro?" 
 
 " I do ! I m going up to have an interview with him . 
 
 Kelly laid a big hand on his arm. "You re takin a 
 big risk; let me go instead." 
 
 " No, you must stay here. I am going, and I am go 
 ing unarmed. I am safer with empty hands, Matt. 
 They will not shoot an unarmed man." 
 
 " I don t know about that. These wild-eyed Dagoes 
 will mob a man with picks." 
 
 "No matter," the young man stubbornly answered, 
 "I m going to make one more appeal to Munro." 
 
 398 
 
A Last Appeal 
 
 Kelly was bitter. " Lave him fight. His heart is set 
 on it. Twill cool his blood to open his veins. Why 
 trouble about it at all? Sure we ve made wan appeal 
 after the other from the start, and what good has it 
 done? We re deeper in trouble than ever. The work 
 for us to do is to find the men that destroyed our 
 mine, and set em swingin ." 
 
 "We can do nothing till the strike is settled, Matt. 
 We can neither raise money nor safely employ men, 
 and we can t afford to be spectators. It s our business 
 to step in and take a fall out of one or the other of these 
 leaders. The neutral business is played out. Either 
 we cut in and help Munro stand the sheriff off, or we 
 join the sheriff and whip Munro." 
 
 "Ayther is the divil s own work." 
 
 " I know it is, and whichever we do, we endanger the 
 women, your lads, and our sick; but we re up against 
 it. I would urge you to take your family and get out, 
 but that would leave Ann alone here with a very sick 
 boy. We could rally the independents and make a 
 fight, but that would endanger the ones we are bound 
 to defend." 
 
 Kelly looked away over the pleasant, sunlit world 
 gloomily. "All that is true, Rob; tis beyond the 
 Kelly wits. Tis not me nature to retreat, but could 
 the boy be moved, I d say fer once in me life, Matt 
 Kelly, put your hand over your mouth and sit 
 down. " 
 
 It was hard to realize that any danger lay concealed 
 in the golden mist of that silent afternoon. The high 
 peaks dreamed like gray Simons on towers of medita 
 tion. The sparse clouds were soft, slow, summer-like. 
 The near-by snow-drifts had sunk into the ground. 
 
 399 
 
Hesper 
 
 Nothing remained to remind the observer of winter 
 save the russet grass. 
 
 The two men stood in silence for a long time ; then 
 Kelly broke forth: "My curse on Mackay! Had anny 
 other man taken the change in hand twould have gone 
 through; but he, the brass-bound, double-jointed mon 
 key, was just the one to set this heU s-broth boiling." 
 
 "I wish I were a good Catholic, too," laughed Ray 
 mond, as he turned away; "I d add my curse to yours." 
 
 Mounting his horse, Raymond rode rapidly out 
 along the ridge towards the hill on which the forti 
 fication stood. He passed now and then a group of 
 men who knew him, and while one or two greeted him 
 pleasantly, all the others met his glance with menace. 
 He felt the hot breath of their hate, but passed on with 
 out haste, regretting his action in leaving his re 
 volvers behind him. In the long years of life on the 
 ranges of the West he had come to depend upon 
 his gun as a Cornishman upon his fist, or an Irish 
 man upon his shillalah ; and felt helpless and ill at ease 
 without it. 
 
 The camp had eaten its mid-day meal for even 
 in times of war men must eat; the miners had hastily 
 devoured their rough food and were swarming on the 
 hill-side overlooking the sheriff s encampment. Every 
 movement of the little army below was noted and 
 commented upon with boisterous laughter; the in 
 vading force seemed so ludicrously inadequate for 
 the work its leaders had so confidently cut out for it. 
 Far over to the left, on a smooth, low hill, a throng of 
 spectators from Bozle was spread like a moth-eaten 
 rug, and every soul was aquiver with impatience for 
 the drama to begin. 
 
 400 
 
A Last Appeal 
 
 The vedettes were bivouacked in a small grove of 
 firs to the left and a little below the fort (which was 
 merely a log corral banked with dirt), and Munro 
 was directing the shovel brigade at work on the walls 
 of the redoubt, which was growing rapidly under the 
 brisk movement of chattering miners. 
 
 As Raymond neared the crowd of on - lookers he 
 recognized Denver Dan and one or two other horse 
 men, but for the most part the spectators were stran 
 gers and plainly hostile. 
 
 He had drawn rein to pass to the left when Brock 
 stepped forth on foot and roughly called out : 
 
 "What s your business up here?" 
 
 "I want to find Munro." 
 
 "Well, you go back to your shack and keep out 
 of this." 
 
 Raymond smiled. "When did you become road- 
 master?" 
 
 The ruffian s resentment burst out: "You keep 
 out of here, I say. You re a traitor that s what 
 you are and you need hangin . Do you think you 
 can spy round here and go and report your findings 
 to Barnett? Not while I m in town." 
 
 Denver Dan put in a word. "Now, don t be a 
 fool, Brock; you ve no license to run a court-martial. 
 Munro will attend to that part of the business." 
 
 Brock raised his voice so that the rapidly gathering 
 crowd might hear. "Here s the spy that warned 
 the sheriff not to come on the freight - train ; here s 
 the man that ruined our plans. You can t deny 
 that," he said, laying a hand on the horse s rein. 
 
 "I don t intend to deny it," replied Raymond, 
 facing the lowering faces of the close-packed throng 
 26 401 
 
Hesper 
 
 as a mastiff might face a pack of coyotes; "and, what s 
 more, I don t intend to apologize for it." His prom 
 ise to Ann came into his mind. "I must be pacific," 
 he resolved; " I must not struggle." Then, very quiet 
 ly, he added: "Take your hand away, Brock. I want 
 to ride on." 
 
 "Lynch him!" shouted some fellow at the back. 
 "Lynch the spy!" 
 
 A wave of gusty wrath swept over the on-lookers. 
 They surged towards him like gray wolves, eager for 
 his blood. Another of the leaders seized his horse s bit 
 and held him as in a vise, but Raymond turned tow 
 ards the horsemen on the edge of the mob. " Boys, I m 
 in trouble; some of you are old cattle-punchers. I m 
 unarmed I haven t so much as a penknife. Stand 
 these fellows off and give me a show. Let me have a 
 fighting chance. Dan, call Munro." 
 
 Dan, half-heartedly, shouted out, "Hold on, boys, 
 don t crowd the man," and attempted to spur his 
 horse into the throng. 
 
 "No, you don t, Dan," cried those near him. "You 
 stay where you are. We re going to do for this traitor 
 right here." 
 
 The citizens of the peak were in motion, all centring 
 towards Raymond as cattle respond to the wild call of 
 a steer that has discovered a place of blood. From 
 fierce mouths, distorted and malevolent, remorseless 
 laughter broke forth. "String him up!" shouted Brock, 
 and the hearts of the evil-doers fused together like 
 drops of mercury, and the desire to kill submerged 
 every other motive. 
 
 Raymond had been in danger many times in his 
 life, but never had he looked down into such hate- 
 
 402 
 
A Last Appeal 
 
 inflamed faces as now encircled him. The old, reck 
 less heart came back to him. He lifted his voice in 
 appeal. "Have I a friend here? If I have, let him 
 throw me a gun! I want to go fighting!" 
 
 "Here you are!" called a stranger, and a big, glit 
 tering revolver came whirling over the heads of the 
 mob. 
 
 Raymond caught it deftly, and with the touch of 
 its handle to his palm his eyes narrowed and his white 
 teeth set: "Now, let the dance begin! By the Lord, 
 some of you will cross the range with me!" 
 
 Denver Dan attempted a diversion. "Look out, 
 fellers; here comes Jack!" 
 
 Munro s name and the pistol in Raymond s hand 
 induced a pause. The foremost of the assailants 
 turned towards the captain of the vedettes, riding 
 swiftly to the rescue. "What s going on here?" he 
 shouted, as he reached the outskirts of the crowd. 
 "What s all this about? Hello, Rob! Brock, what 
 about this?" 
 
 Brock was ready. "Here s the man who has 
 played with our plans all along, pretending to be 
 neutral when he was nothing but a dirty, slinking spy 
 from the very beginning " 
 
 "Liar!" shouted Raymond, and his boot -toe caught 
 the ruffian in the mouth and he staggered back among 
 his fellows with a hoarse cry. For a moment he was 
 dazed; then raging, furious, his mouth streaming with 
 blood, he jerked his revolver from its holder, intent to 
 kill; but a hand clutched his arm, and Munro, spurring 
 his horse into the mass of irresolute men, called out: 
 "Brock, I ll kill you if you shoot this is a friend of 
 mine you know that! He s stood out against us all 
 
 403 
 
Hesper 
 
 along, but he s been on the square. 7 sent him to the 
 Springs myself." 
 
 Brock wiped the blood from his lips. "Mebbe 
 you asked him to wire the sheriff last night. He 
 admits he sent a messenger to warn him." 
 
 Munro turned to Raymond. " Did you do that?" 
 
 "I did! I wanted to see a fair fight. I didn t 
 intend to let your crazy hoodlums wreck that train 
 and kill those men like rats in a trap. You are in 
 sane, Jack." 
 
 Cries of frenzied rage broke forth again, and the 
 crowd surged against the two horses. Furious, throaty 
 cries broke forth. 
 
 "Kill him!" "Hang him!" 
 
 Munro blew a signal to his men, and his voice rang 
 out clear and sharp. "The first man that reaches a 
 hand out of that circle loses it. If any lynching is 
 done, I preside over it. Dan, come in here you, too, 
 Cook." 
 
 The two cow-boys spurred their horses into the cir 
 cle, and the four armed and resolute men faced the 
 angry mob and held it at bay. Raymond, even in this 
 hour of danger, regretted Munro s assistance; it put 
 him under an obligation which weakened him. With 
 his mind filled with conflicting considerations, he 
 waited while the swift clatter of a hundred hoofs drew 
 near, and a squad of Munro s picked men surrounded 
 their captain, who called out as the mangy crowd fell 
 back: " I want you to understand that I m in command 
 of this hill, and I won t stand for any more funny 
 business. Open up there!" 
 
 When they were clear of danger, Raymond drew 
 rein towards Munro. "Jack, you saved my scalp to- 
 
 404 
 
A Last Appeal 
 
 day, and I m grateful; that s why I don t want to see 
 you in the hands of the sheriff. I want you to pull out 
 this minute. Come, now, this is a last appeal. Fly 
 the coop. If you don t, they ll hang you. What do 
 you hope to accomplish? Face the situation. You 
 are the one to hit the trail, and hit it like a wolf. What 
 do you hope to do?" 
 
 "I expect to hold this camp until the syndicate 
 yields to the demands of the miners, or until the Gov 
 ernor interferes." 
 
 "Then what?" 
 
 "Then I step down and out." 
 
 "Suppose the sheriff attacks to-night?" 
 
 "I will send him back a-whirling. And now let me 
 take an inning. You mustn t come up here again. I 
 can t answer for what would happen next time. You 
 stay where you are, and listen! take care of yourself." 
 He laughed as he added, "Looks like this is my busy 
 day, and I can t spare a guard." 
 
 Raymond mused. "Jack, you ve got a wild-cat by 
 the tail. You can neither let go nor hold on. You 
 need some one to save you from yourself and the cat." 
 
 Munro s eyes twinkled. "I reckon you ve hit it; 
 but, meanwhile, there s nothin to do but keep the 
 cat s backbone straight. Well, now, so long, and take 
 good care of the lady." 
 
XXVII 
 Hesper 
 
 THE world of men had never before appealed to 
 Ann s imagination. She had been quite content to 
 let the predatory male go down into his jungles of trade 
 and return at his leisure; but on the peak she was 
 thrust amid the most distinctively masculine plans, and 
 being measurably relieved from anxiety by Louis sub 
 siding pulse, she permitted herself a closer study of the 
 brusque and ominous movements taking place in the 
 scope of her window. She studied Raymond, in earnest 
 but apparently unexcited conference with his work 
 men. No word of their low utterance reached her ears, 
 but she observed that they organized into squads as if 
 in obedience to some command, and that each man 
 armed himself, and that each face was grim or reck 
 lessly smiling. That they formed her guard she knew, 
 and this in itself ought to have been thrilling; but it 
 was not it seemed absurd. 
 
 Far up on the hill, Munro s horsemen (diminished to 
 the size of swallows) swooped to and fro on aimless er 
 rands, and at a greater distance below, to the west, on 
 the Bozle road, scores of teams and hundreds of foot 
 men streamed along, each sight-seer eager to behold 
 the first onslaught. It seemed as though every de 
 tachable thing in the camp was in motion like leaves 
 
 406 
 
Hesper 
 
 before an all - prevailing storm -wind and that the 
 place whereon she stood alone remained calm danger 
 ously, menacingly calm. 
 
 Dr. Braide s professional cheer irritated her during 
 this time of waiting, and despite her acknowledgment 
 of gratitude for his kindness, and her reliance upon his 
 skill, she grew curt almost to the point of incivility; 
 but she longed for a reassuring word from Raymond. 
 "Why don t he come and let me know what is prepar 
 ing?" she impatiently repeated, beneath her breath. 
 " He has no right to leave me in the dark." And once 
 she went to the door with impulse to call him, but her 
 resolution sank away. He was a part of the man s 
 world, and sternly busy. 
 
 He did not show himself again to her until about nine 
 o clock of the evening, when he entered the sick-room 
 and said, quietly, to Braide: "Doctor, you better go to 
 bed, if the patient will permit. You may be badly 
 needed early to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Very well," acquiesced Braide, convinced that a 
 closer tie than friendship united Ann and the young 
 miner, and that they desired to be alone. "Our pa 
 tient is doing well." As he was about to leave, he 
 said, "You expect trouble, do you not?" 
 
 Raymond was evasive. "It s a good time to pre 
 pare for it, though it may drift round us." 
 
 The door had hardly closed behind the young phy 
 sician when Ann turned to Raymond and imperiously 
 said : You must not try to evade me. I want to know 
 what is threatening. Tell me!" 
 
 "The camp is wild," he admitted, feeling the resent 
 ment in her voice; " and I don t see how a clash can be 
 avoided so long as Munro is in command and keeps his 
 
 407 
 
Hesper 
 
 present temper. But you need give no thought to that. 
 All my men are on guard to-night, and whatever hap 
 pens, this cabin is safe." 
 
 "I like you to be honest with me," she said, more 
 gently. " I m not a child, and I m not a timid person. 
 I hate lying and evasions." 
 
 He smiled down at her. " I know you do ; that is the 
 reason I am speaking so frankly. If I thought you 
 were in actual danger I would take you in my arms and 
 carry you to safety, even against your own will; but 
 there are twenty determined men between you and any 
 violence that might wander our way." 
 
 "Thank you. Why didn t you come and tell me 
 sooner?" 
 
 "I was very busy." 
 
 "What were you doing? What have you done? I 
 want to know it all." 
 
 "You shall know," he answered, taking a seat before 
 the fire. He had never been more admirable than at that 
 moment. "My theory is that the sheriff s forces are 
 eager to storm the hill before the Governor has a chance 
 to interfere and protect his pets, that is the way they 
 put it. If the attack is made, a desperate struggle 
 will follow. Probably the deputies will try to carry 
 the fortification direct. Meanwhile, Kelly and I have 
 drawn up and forwarded to the Governor a long tele 
 gram signed by the leading independents, reciting our 
 disaster, and demanding immediate interference on his 
 part, and we are hoping to hear from him before mid 
 night. I have also wired Barnett to warn the sheriff 
 of your presence here, and that we are guarding you. 
 I think Don is with the deputies. If he is, he will see 
 that this cabin remains outside the field of operation." 
 
 408 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Where is Captain Munro?" 
 
 "His vedettes are camped on the north slope, but 
 may engage the enemy at any moment, for Jack is 
 quite as eager as the sheriff to win first blood. If it 
 were not for the possible injury of innocent men and 
 women, I would say let them fight it out. Each camp 
 is quite as crazy and lawless as the other. Now you 
 have the truth. I have concealed nothing from you. 
 I will even tell you that Munro has promised to come 
 down for a final conference with the independents, and 
 that we are still hoping to persuade him to leave the 
 camp." 
 
 Ann s face softened. " Isn t it an ironical turn, that 
 Louis and I, rank outsiders, with no personal interest 
 at stake, should be tied here helpless at the very cen 
 tre of a miners war?" 
 
 He stirred uneasily in his chair. "You touch my 
 sore spot. I can t forget that you would never have 
 climbed this peak only for me I mean through 
 Louis friendship for me. In a sense I brought you 
 here, and the thought of any harm to you or to him 
 unnerves me." 
 
 The sick boy stirred uneasily and called faintly, and 
 Ann went to him and bent above him tenderly. " Here 
 I am, Buddie. Are you better?" 
 
 "Oh, I m so hot! Take that blanket off me." 
 
 Raymond looked at Ann. "Shall I lighten his 
 load?" 
 
 She shook her head as she put a glass of water to 
 the boy s lips. "What time is it?" he asked, as he fell 
 back upon his pillow. 
 
 "Going on ten o clock." 
 
 "Has the fight come off yet?" 
 409 
 
Hesper 
 
 Raymond was cautious. "No, the camp is quiet." 
 
 He insisted on talking. "I hope they won t fight 
 till I get over this cold. It s hard luck to be here. 
 What day is it? How long have I been sick? You 
 should have seen Jack when he rode up and stopped 
 the man!" In this way his mind leaped and danced 
 for an hour, but he grew drowsy at last, and went 
 away into sleep, leaving Raymond and Ann alone to 
 gether, each more acutely conscious of the other than 
 before. 
 
 Ann spoke first. "Poor boy! He will always feel 
 defrauded, to think he is missing all this drama." 
 
 "Your father must have been such another enthu 
 siast. I have read his journal with the greatest pleas 
 ure. Some of it needs only capital letters to be 
 poetry." 
 
 "Yes, my father was a beautiful character. I wish 
 I had inherited more of his spirit." 
 
 "I liked his name for you," he continued in the 
 same tone. 
 
 She colored. " That was the only thing I had to re 
 proach him for. I reproach myself now for not ac 
 quiescing in it. I think it grieved him to have me 
 side with mother against it." 
 
 "It is a sweet name to me Hesper." He uttered 
 it with the tenderness which dwells in the voice of a 
 lover, and its letters sang together but he dared not 
 look at her. Ann sat silent with a rapt musing in her 
 eyes, lost in wonder of the emotion this childish name, 
 spoken thus, had awakened in her. Had this strong 
 young miner chanted a love poem, he could not have 
 conveyed to her so much of his frank and manly pas 
 sion. 
 
XXVIII 
 Raymond Silences Munro 
 
 RAYMOND was hastening to apologize for his 
 temerity when the noise of a galloping horse cut 
 short his speech and whitened Ann s cheek, so porten 
 tous was the sound of haste at such an hour. " I hope 
 that is Jack," said the miner, and hastened to fhe door 
 to meet and silence Munro, who entered with studied ef 
 fect, and, removing his sombrero, bowed very low to Ann. 
 "Good-evening, haughty princess. How s the kid?" 
 
 Ann, relieved to find the flying messenger an expect 
 ed though unwelcome visitor, replied, pleasantly, "He s 
 better, thank you." 
 
 A covert smile curled the handsome lips of the young 
 leader as he glanced from Raymond to Ann, and some 
 thing in his bearing puzzled the girl. When he spoke 
 again, with a growing deliberation, she perceived that 
 he was in liquor. 
 
 "You mustn t be alarmed these are rough times, 
 but you ll be protected. Battle s comin off this time, 
 sure thing. We move on the enemy at daybreak. Si- 
 down. Don stand in my presence," he added, with a 
 comical twist of his lips. 
 
 Ann turned with a startled glance to Raymond, who 
 genially said, "I m glad you came down, Jack; I want 
 you to hold a conference with the independents." 
 
 411 
 
Hesper 
 
 Munro stiffened. "No time for confrence. No 
 time to talk with any one. I just came down to say 
 howdy to the lady. That s all. Understand?" His 
 voice rose. 
 
 Raymond lifted a warning hand. "Quietly, old 
 man, don t disturb the boy. Let s go find Kelly." 
 
 Munro s face grew sullen. "Don t want to see 
 Kelly don t want to see you. I ve come to see the 
 lady." He faced Ann again. " I m going into battle. 
 May be killed to-morrow. Had to say good-bye. I 
 may not see you again." He turned to Raymond and 
 his voice was peremptory. "You go find Kelly; let 
 me talk with Ann." 
 
 To Raymond s great relief, Kelly, who had heard 
 Munro arrive, appeared at the door. His manner was 
 easy and his voice low as he greeted the intruder. 
 "Hello, Jack, how goes the Napoleonic business?" 
 
 Munro turned with darkening brows, and labored 
 to be gloomily impressive. "Got em scared, all 
 right. They re meditating retreat this minute. I m 
 only afraid they ll run too quick. If I see em mov 
 ing out I ll drop down on em." 
 
 Kelly laid a hand on his shoulder. "Lad, you need 
 sleep; you re worn out." 
 
 Raymond, with a significant look at Matt, turned 
 as if to stir the fire a movement which brought him 
 behind his visitor. 
 
 Munro put his hands in his pockets and laboriously 
 explained: " Been tryin to keep awake on whiskey- 
 trifle shot this minute, askin Lady Ann s pardon. You 
 see, the warm room makes my thongue tick tongue 
 tick." He laughed at his vain effort to speak these 
 words. "Got a knot in it." 
 
 412 
 
Raymond Silences Munro 
 
 Raymond s right arm encircled the young leader ? 
 waist, pinioning the deadly right hand to his side, 
 while Kelly, seizing the almost equally skilful left, 
 whipped the young desperado s revolver from his 
 belt. 
 
 For a moment the fangless rattlesnake was bewil 
 dered. What you mean, Rob?" he asked, ominously. 
 
 "Come outside, Jack. Don t make a row for the 
 lady s sake. We want to talk to you." 
 
 "Let go o me," he retorted, writhing in Raymond s 
 clutch. In the midst of this he grinned at Kelly. " I 
 know these arms. What s your game, Rob?" 
 
 "Come outside and I ll tell you," pleaded Ray 
 mond. 
 
 If tweren t for your company I d cut your heart 
 out," he replied, with calm malignancy. 
 
 Kelly, less patient than Raymond, broke forth: 
 "Gwan out! Don t make a row here. Can t ye see 
 you re disturbin the sick boy?" 
 
 The sodden brain of the reckless leader was waking 
 up again, and, with a bow to Ann, he said: "Sorry 
 to sturb you, but I must take these men outside and 
 kill em. See you again soon." 
 
 Raymond released his prisoner and stepped through 
 the door in advance of him, but as Munro followed 
 and stood for an instant on the step, peering into the 
 darkness, Raymond seized him again, and with a furi 
 ous twist threw him to the earth and fell upon him in 
 a terrible struggle. Matt, mindful of Ann and the 
 boy, closed the door. The girl, not daring to look out, 
 could only stand with nerveless limbs and pounding 
 heart and listen. Once the desperate man uttered a 
 gasping snarl, but it was cut short by a merciless 
 
Hesper 
 
 hand, and all was still. Then her composure gave 
 way. 
 
 "Oh, Rob, don t kill him!" she called, heedless of 
 Louis. Opening the door she cried again, "Don t, 
 please don t!" 
 
 Kelly was binding the captain s feet while Raymond, 
 with a knee on his chest and one hand at his throat, 
 looked up at Ann as she stood in the doorway, and 
 said: "Please go in. We are doing this for his own 
 good. We won t hurt him. He ll thank us for it 
 when he understands our motive." 
 
 Munro, like a trapped wild -cat, snapped at his 
 captor; but Raymond s long fingers prevented him. 
 "Now listen, Jack. You did me a good turn to-day, 
 and I m going to do as much for you. I m going to 
 save you from State s prison against your own fool s 
 will. You re going to leave camp to - night, dead 
 sure thing! And you might as well go quietly. If 
 you don t, we ll pack you on your horse like a roll 
 of blankets. Will you be quiet? Will you ride your 
 horse, or must we tie you on?" 
 
 Ann, appalled by this display of desperate fury 
 battling with iron resolution, forgot to obey. Enter 
 ing imaginatively into the captive s deep humiliation, 
 she understood that he could not submit to such wills 
 as those above him, even to save his life. 
 
 Braide appeared behind Ann. "What is the 
 fracas?" 
 
 Raymond spoke again, and his voice was imperative. 
 "Please go in; this is no place for you. Doctor, shut 
 the door!" 
 
 They shrank before the authority of his voice, and 
 withdrew into the house, and Braide closed the door. 
 
 414 
 
Raymond Silences Munro 
 
 Louis was awake, his bright eyes widely opened, his 
 ears alert. Forgetful of him for the moment, Ann 
 listened breathlessly while Raymond pleaded with his 
 captive. "Now, be reasonable, Jack. Go quietly 
 with Kelly." 
 
 Again the frenzied man renewed his struggle. 
 Blindly, ferociously, like an animal, deaf to all reason, 
 acknowledging no law but that of force, he writhed, 
 beating the ground. His gasping breath was painful 
 to hear. At last Braide, who had been picking handily 
 at his medicine-case, suddenly opened the door and 
 ran out. 
 
 "Here is where the man of medicine comes in," 
 he called, jovially, and thrust a folded handkerchief 
 beneath Munro s nostrils. "Let him breathe, Ray 
 mond," he said, quietly. "It 11 do him good." 
 
 Munro s knotted muscles almost instantly relaxed, 
 his hands fell inert, his head turned quietly to one 
 side, and his face became as peaceful as a sleeping 
 child. 
 
 "What have you done?" whispered Kelly, excitedly. 
 
 Braide laughed. "Hypnotized him. You can do 
 as you wish with him now, but work quick." 
 
 "Much obliged, doctor," said Raymond. "Take 
 him up, Matt. Let s put him away while he sleeps. 
 He ll go by freight now." As they laid hold of the 
 corpselike figure he added to Ann and to Braide, "Not 
 a word of this to any one!" 
 
 The two men had hardly shuffled off into the dark 
 ness before a couple of men on guard came by. "Oh, 
 it s you, doctor. I thought I heard Kelly s voice," 
 said one of them. 
 
 "All quiet here," answered Braide. 
 
Hesper 
 
 Ann returned to Louis bedside with a sense of hav 
 ing witnessed and condoned a midnight murder, and 
 a knock at the door startled her as though it were 
 a summons to trial. But the visitor was only one 
 of Munro s men, deferential, almost timid, in her 
 presence. 
 
 "Excuse me, but has the captain been here this 
 evening?" he asked, politely. 
 
 The doctor quickly answered, "Yes, but he went 
 away again almost immediately." 
 
 "If you see him, just tell him we need him on the 
 hill." 
 
 "I ll do so gladly." 
 
 "Much obliged," The messenger withdrew, and 
 they soon heard him gallop swiftly away, and all be 
 came silent. 
 
 At Ann s insistent request Braide went back to his 
 couch, and she was again alone waiting for Raymond s 
 return. 
 
 The situation in the great drama was now quite 
 clear to her mental vision. She could see the small 
 army waiting below, foolishly eager for the coming 
 of the dawn, and it was not difficult to imagine the 
 excitement and consternation in Munro s forces when 
 their leader failed to appear. She understood also 
 something of the panic in Bozle and in the valley, 
 and realized that through the night the news of the 
 impending assault on the peak was flying, loosed along 
 aerial ways by the tapping ringers of a hundred deft, 
 dispassionate operators. And though she knew the 
 darkness outside was sentinelled by Raymond s faith 
 ful men, she could not rid herself of a feeling of im 
 pending danger. The air was surcharged with some 
 
 416 
 
Raymond Silences Munro 
 
 invisible evil potency, and seemed about to crackle 
 into a destructive tempest of pistol-shots. 
 
 From the outside point of view the entire cam 
 paign was farcical, a subject for ironical laughter; 
 but from the position of a woman inside the lines and. 
 watching beside a sick-bed, it yielded no amusement ; 
 it was distinctly appalling. 
 
XXIX 
 Ann s New Philosophy 
 
 RAYMOND was gone for nearly two hours, but 
 when he did appear he was entirely self-con 
 tained and very gentle. 
 
 "You must go to sleep," he said, at once. "I will 
 watch. I want to beg your pardon for seizing Munro 
 in your presence, but it was necessary, both for his 
 sake and to prevent bloodshed. I saw no other chance 
 of disarming him. I hope you will excuse my harsh 
 ness in sending you away." 
 
 "You need not apologize; I understood," she an 
 swered. "What have you done with him?" 
 
 "Kelly has taken him away out of danger. Have 
 any of his men called for him?" 
 
 "Yes, one; but he rode away again. Have you any 
 further news?" 
 
 "Something is going on in Bozle. I could hear 
 cheering, and I thought I could distinguish the gal 
 loping of horses. Whatever is coming, my duty is 
 here; and now let me take you to Nora." 
 
 "No, no! I can t sleep now. My brain is whirl 
 ing with this night s events. I feel as if I were about 
 to witness some great storm, some catastrophe. 
 Sleep is impossible to-night." 
 
 He turned with low-voiced intensity. "What can 
 
 AlS 
 
Ann s New Philosophy 
 
 I do to repair the injury I have done you and yours? 
 When I left Barnett s home, I was resolved never 
 to re-enter your life again. I honestly tried to get 
 away from Louis and to take myself absolutely out 
 of your world. When I think of you, sitting here 
 surrounded by these mobs, these violences, witnessing 
 such deeds as this to-night, I am in complete despair. 
 I see no way out. Each hour adds to my sense of 
 responsibility for you " 
 
 She interrupted him with a gesture of protest. 
 "You must not blame yourself it had to be. Do 
 you believe in fate?" 
 
 "I do not, nor in luck," he answered, slowly. 
 
 Neither do I , but I believe in compensations. Since 
 I came up here I have worked out a theory of life. 
 I ve been happy here; that should comfort you." 
 
 "It would, only I cannot rid myself of the thought 
 of what you have sacrificed to be here. Each day 
 has plunged you deeper into this lawless barbarism." 
 
 "There is where my theory helps me. One s life 
 has a general average like a weather report. Don t 
 laugh. I will explain what I mean. If one has too 
 abundant rains in June, one is likely to be dry and 
 parched in August ; that is the law. As nothing ever 
 happened to me up to the time when I decided to 
 leave New York, so now events crowd each other s 
 heels. Don t you see what I mean? My life had 
 no real value to me, nor to any one else till I came 
 West. I bore no burdens. I demanded constant 
 pleasure. When I was tired of one place I went to 
 another, and yet I never got sufficiently weary of the 
 first to make the second a joy. So the time had to 
 come when I should sit as I do now, watching by a 
 
 419 
 
Hesper 
 
 sick-bed, unable to sleep. It s one of my compensa 
 tions. As I lost interest in life by idleness and pleas 
 ure-seeking, so now, perhaps, I am destined to regain 
 it by toil. Pleasures come to me now when I least 
 expect them. That is a wonderful thing to me. I 
 thought I had lost all power to vividly enjoy, but I 
 haven t. So you see, I am not accusing you or any 
 one. I have only reason to be thankful, if only no 
 harm comes to Louis or my friends here. I shall not 
 complain." 
 
 "It is very sweet of you to try to lighten my sense 
 of guilt," he replied, gently. "But I cannot absolve 
 myself so easily. I can understand your theory, but 
 I cannot understand how you find life ? disappoint 
 ment, you who have everything to make you happy." 
 
 She leaned towards him with eager face. "That is 
 just the point of my discovery. I have had too much. 
 Joy comes by contrast. You are hungry, and food is 
 good; you are tired, and rest is sweet. You can t over 
 take the sweet joys on the road of life ; they must meet 
 you unexpectedly. All my life I ve eaten when I was 
 not hungry and slept when I was not weary. I had no 
 duties; my wants were met instantly. That s why I 
 lost interest in life. It wasn t normal it was as if 
 all the year were June. There were no compensating 
 pains, and so, to restore me to health, God took away 
 my sunshine." 
 
 He smiled a little. "I don t know whether I like 
 being a part of such discipline." 
 
 She went on: " I am, by heritage, a worker. I know 
 that now. My father s people were active and calcu 
 lating folk, and my life in the city was unnatural. 
 I ve been deliciously hungry and weary since I ve been 
 
 420 
 
Ann s New Philosophy 
 
 here iif e seems restored to its balance. I ve been 
 happier than at any time since my careless childhood. 
 So do not blame yourself. -I used to think I would 
 go mad with the sense of my failure to grasp anything, 
 to taste anything. Everything seemed slipping away 
 from me. You have done me good you and splendid 
 old Matt and sweet Nora." 
 
 They had forgotten the warfare outside. They were 
 face to face with the passion that forever rejuvenates 
 the earth. 
 
 He sprang from his chair and faced her. "You 
 mustn t talk to me so," he exclaimed, almost harshly. 
 I shall forget my promises and say forbidden words 
 to you. You unseat all my good resolutions." 
 
 She heard but ignored his passionate words. A sort 
 of mental and spiritual recklessness had seized her. 
 "All my life in the East and in the old world, every 
 thing in the past, seems gray as if covered by a 
 mist. The realities seem to be here. I feel grateful 
 to you, and I want to ask a favor of you." 
 
 "Anything you ask, except a renewal of my promise 
 of silence." 
 
 She hesitated before the rising storm of his love. " I 
 want you to let me Louis and me help rebuild 
 your mine." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "It s so simple. You and Matt need money. I 
 want you to take Louis into your mine as a partner. 
 Hush!" she warningly whispered, as the sleeper s head 
 moved on his pillow. " If he lives, he will want to work 
 with you; if he dies, I must help you for his sake." 
 
 " He will not die ; he will live. But you Ann, there 
 is something back of this." He laid his strong hands 
 
 421 
 
Hesper 
 
 upon her shoulders, looking into her face with such 
 piercing passion that she shrank and grew timid. " You 
 need me? Is that it? Am I one of your compensa 
 tions?" 
 
 She tried to smile. "That would not be flattering 
 according to my theory." 
 
 He refused to be diverted. " I don t care what your 
 Eastern world thinks of me, if only you are content 
 with me. I accept your theory. I deserve compen 
 sation some sweet return for my lonely, loveless life 
 on the plain. Will you come ? Is that what you mean ?" 
 
 She was on the brink of the river now, and her 
 heart failed her at thought of the strange lands to 
 which it ran. "I don t know what I mean. Please 
 let me go you hurt me." 
 
 He was master now, stopping at no polite bar. "I 
 will not let you go till you speak your mind." His 
 physical hold on her arms softened, but his spiritual 
 self closed round her. Six months ago I was a 
 rancher in the foot-hills, and you were in a great East 
 ern city. We were as wide apart as the poles. Now 
 here we are! I don t understand it. This I know: 
 you are here and I can t let you go. I accept your 
 offer to go into the mine, but not for Louis sake. I 
 do it for my own sake, because I want you to be my 
 partner my wife. What do you say, Hesper, my star 
 of the West?" 
 
 She put him away almost in terror. " I can t decide 
 now. I must be sure sure, and I m not sure. I 
 must have time to consider. I must go back into my 
 old life to my native city." 
 
 "Back into the gray shadow?" he asked. 
 
 "That is what I m not certain about. I ve been 
 422 
 
Ann s New Philosophy 
 
 wondering how all this would seem if I were to wake 
 to-morrow in my rooms at the Westchester." She 
 sighed, " Oh, it is all so complicated!" 
 
 "To my mind it is very simple. You say you are 
 happier here than in the East. Why go back at all? 
 Why risk the loss of this new-found health?" 
 
 " I will be honest. It is because by contrast the old 
 life begins to glow. The change in me may be due to 
 physical causes. Perhaps I could carry my recovered 
 joy of life back with me. If this should be so, then I 
 might never want to return, and that would be cruel 
 to you. Don t you see?" 
 
 "Then you should go," he answered, quickly. "I 
 want to make you happy. If I cannot, then it is better 
 for one to suffer than two. Return to New York, and 
 from that vantage-ground look back on this new life. 
 If / do not then seem fitted to make you happy I will 
 not complain. If any man stopped to count the rea 
 sons why he should not make a woman his wife he 
 would live single all his days. You have raised my 
 own doubts, and I insist no more. Besides, I have my 
 own share of pride." 
 
 "Please don t misunderstand me " 
 
 "I do not. I understand, and I m horribly afraid 
 you are right I have so little to offer you." 
 
 A woman does not love a man for what he can offer 
 in way of a home or reputation. No, it is not that; it 
 is a fear that my mind may change " 
 
 They were interrupted again, this time by Nora, who 
 came in pale and troubled. "Rob, where is Matt? 
 Sure he has not shown his face since supper." 
 
 " He s in command of the guard to-night. He s not 
 far away. Don t worry about him." 
 
 423 
 
Hesper 
 
 "Ann, dear, I wish you d come home. I need you, 
 Rob will sit with the sick one won t you, Rob?" 
 
 To this suggestion Raymond gave assent, and in the 
 end Ann went away, her demonstration unfinished 
 the question of her future still unanswered. 
 
 Nora was fairly broken. "Dear God! how long are 
 we to be kept on the edge of destruction like this? 
 Sure my patience is worn out. In all my life in the 
 mines I ve seen nothing like this." 
 
 ^Ann comforted her as best she could, and at one 
 o clock, all being quiet outside, they went to bed, 
 worn out with watching. 
 
 ^ But Ann could not sleep Raymond filled her inner 
 vision. She loved him, that she now admitted, and 
 yet she could not see herself adjusted to his world. 
 It seemed like a complete abandonment of her old 
 life, and gray though it had been she was afraid to 
 put this new, strange, and tumultuous existence to 
 the hazard. The charm of his voice, his clear eyes, 
 the lines of his head, of his shoulders, she acknowledged! 
 " His growth in tenderness, in comprehension of my 
 life, promises happiness. And yet I must go back to 
 my mother. I can t decide here. The temptation is 
 too great." 
 
 She was awakened from an uneasy sleep by Nora s 
 cry to Matt: "For love of Heaven, where have you 
 been? What is that noise?" 
 
 Matt s voice, rumbling in reply, barely reached her 
 ears, for a deep, trampling, continuous tumult grew 
 each moment louder, and at last was distinguishable 
 as the sound of horses hoofs. Springing from her bed, 
 she drew aside the curtain and peered out. In the 
 
 424 
 
Ann s New Philosophy 
 
 clear, yellow light of the frosty dawn a regiment of 
 mounted men was streaming up the road between the 
 cabins, moving without word or bugle-note, as stealth 
 ily as a body of troops can move, gliding on a com 
 pound curve like a vast articulated insect, their move 
 ment giving rise to a steady, ominous, dull, trampling 
 roar. 
 
 The picture took hold of her in a dim, deep-rooted 
 way, and some elemental emotion, dating from the 
 days of perpetual warfare, rose within her bosom and 
 quickened her breath. All fear fell away, all surprise, 
 and she was struggling with an impulse to open the 
 window and cheer the warriors when Nora pounded on 
 her door. 
 
 1 Ann, dear, dress yourself quick! The soldiers 
 are here!" 
 
 For just a moment longer she lingered. It was as 
 if she were looking for the ten-thousandth time upon 
 a military picture by a master -artist. The earth 
 was silver white, the sky vivid saffron, and now 
 against the line of the rounded hill-top the capped 
 heads of the men, the pointed ears of the horses were 
 etched in purple silhouettes, and then they disap 
 peared as mysteriously as they came; their going 
 seemed each moment more furtive, more dangerous, 
 and she strained her ears waiting to hear the sound 
 of guns, but all remained silent. 
 
 Dressing hurriedly, she went out into the sitting- 
 room just as Raymond came in, his face excited and 
 exultant. 
 
 "Our reign of terror is over. The desperadoes 
 are scattering like quail. The Governor, in a spirit of 
 reprisal, has invoked federal aid, and Colonel Wood of 
 
 425 
 
Hesper 
 
 the Fortieth United States Cavalry is about to take 
 command of the camp." 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad! Now there will be no more 
 fighting and you can restore your mill." 
 
 "You are right. Mobs do not fight the United 
 States army," he answered, with the pride of a poten 
 tial soldier. 
 
 They faced each other, even at this moment, with 
 a knowledge that the most important matter of all re 
 mained unsettled between them; and all day, and the 
 next, while the forces of disorder dissolved and the camp 
 readjusted itself to military rule, Ann nursed her sick 
 and brooded over her problem. At times she grew 
 weary of the struggle and was ready to yield to his love ; 
 but the thought of the future, of the wrong she might 
 inflict on an honorable man, came to torture her anew. 
 
 "Oh, if some one else could only decide for me!" 
 she cried, knowing well the futility of the wish. 
 
 The second day passed slowly even though she 
 slept at times and no further word of intimate mean 
 ing passed between them. Raymond came in from time 
 to time with news of the changes in progress but did 
 not tell her that the State was full of praise of the 
 part he had played in bringing peace to the camp. He 
 shrank from doing this, for the reason that, as usual, 
 the press was extreme, loading him with compliments 
 for his firm stand, for his influence over Munro, and for 
 his powerful protest to the Governor; whereas, to his 
 mind, Matthew Kelly was the leader of the free miners. 
 "I was only the secretary the clerk," he explained. 
 
 Dolan, however, brought to Ann a knowledge of 
 the great light which had been turned suddenly on 
 her lover s abashed figure, and the glow of pride which 
 
 426 
 
Ann s New Philosophy 
 
 came to her brought a keen realization of how closely 
 his success was interwoven with her good wishes. Nora, 
 without a particle of jealousy for Matt s share of the 
 honor, confirmed all that the reporter had said, and 
 Louis, who listened to it all, quietly remarked, "Rob 
 is the boss; I told you that all along." 
 
 Hounded and brought to bay by his admirers, Ray 
 mond made a speech bluntly protesting that he was 
 not entitled to any credit in the matter. "I tried 
 hard to keep out of it," he declared. "I m not seeking 
 honor of that kind." But his argument was in vain. 
 His denials were called the excess of modesty; and 
 at a meeting of the various factions looking to an 
 adjustment he was amazed to find himself put for 
 ward as chief arbitrator of the contention, mainly by 
 Barnett and the mayor of Valley Springs, and the 
 news of this was brought to Ann by Barnett him 
 self, who came into the bungalow during the after 
 noon as debonair in dress and manner as he were at 
 Casino Park. "Somebody must be the hero of this 
 victory," said he, with dubious meaning. " Kelly won t 
 have it, I don t deserve it, and we can t afford to let 
 it go to Carter. I don t see any way but this Rob 
 must wear the laurel wreath. He ought to get the 
 girl," he added, with sly side glance. "But I infer 
 that she s under lease and bond to Peabody." 
 
 Ann did not rise to this jest. "You are mal a 
 propos. We have not found our situation humorous." 
 
 "Oho!" responded Don, "then he does get the girl." 
 
 As the news of what had taken place slowly fil 
 tered into Louis consciousness, he wept with vexa 
 tion. "Have I missed it all?" he wailed. "Now, 
 I call that mean." 
 
XXX 
 
 Munro s Last Word 
 
 KUIS had not missed it all, for just at sunset, as 
 Ann, lingering at his side, was about to cross to 
 the Kelly cabin, Munro, wild, white, and breathless, 
 burst into the room. 
 
 "Where s my gun?" he demanded. "Where s Rob?" 
 He was a hunted man in every look, in every gesture. 
 "My gun!" he demanded, sharply, and ran into the 
 inner room. When he reappeared his face was set in a 
 grim smile, for in his hand dangled a shining weapon; 
 his panic was at an end. Whoso faced him now must 
 give account of himself. 
 
 "Good-bye, girl!" he called, and his voice was wild 
 ly tender. "Don t forget me!" With a bound he 
 reached Barnett s horse and rose to the saddle just 
 as a stern voice called, "Halt!" and a blade of fire 
 reached out of the dusk and pierced his side. 
 
 Spurring his horse in a swift, rearing circle, he flung 
 from his right hand an answering puff of smoke, and a 
 tall man with a rifle in his hands dropped at the corner 
 of the cabin; but from his knees again took aim, and 
 the beautiful horse went down, flinging his desperate 
 rider over his head. 
 
 Horrified, frozen into immobility, Ann stood in the 
 doorway, while Munro shook himself free from the sad- 
 
 428 
 
Munro s Last Word 
 
 die and dragged himself clear of the groaning horse. 
 Resting himself on his elbow, with the face of a calm 
 panther he confronted a second armed officer. His 
 right arm was useless, but his mind was clear, his eyes 
 steady; and, as his new assailant approached, he shifted 
 his weapon to his left hand and rolled upon his useless 
 right arm, and the bullet intended for his heart went 
 wide then. Lifting himself with terrible effort, he fired 
 again, and put a bullet into the very heart of his pur 
 suer, who fell in a heap just as Raymond and Barnett, 
 followed by Kelly, came rushing to the scene of com 
 bat. Raymond bent above the fallen leader. "How 
 is it, Jack; are you hurt?" 
 
 "Hurt! I m shot to pieces. Raise me up. I want 
 one more crack at that " His persistent malignancy 
 was appalling, like that of a splendid mangled ser 
 pent. 
 
 "No, no, Jack! He s whipped. He s gone." 
 
 "Is he dead? There s another let me get him." 
 He struggled again to rise. 
 
 Raymond pushed him gently to the earth. "Never 
 mind him now; you need help. Where s the doctor? 
 Why didn t you jump the camp as Kelly told you to 
 do, Jack, old man? Why didn t you?" 
 
 "How could I no horse no gun. I m no jack- 
 rabbit to go slinking into the sage-brush." He raised 
 his voice querulously. "Some o you boys get me 
 a drink I feel weak." 
 
 A half-dozen started, but Braide put a glass to his 
 lips. Munro looked at him with a steely gleam in his 
 eyes. " I ought to kill you," he said, slowly, "for doing 
 me last night." His voice rose to a stern command: 
 " Take hold and stop this blood. I can t stand this 
 
 429 
 
Hesper 
 
 very long. Don t you see that?" he ended, with a 
 note of fierce impatience in his voice. 
 
 At Braide s orders they took him up and carried him 
 into the bungalow, where Louis lay watching, listening, 
 with Ann close beside him trying to shield him from 
 the sight and sound of this tragic end of a gambler. 
 
 The dying man suffered the doctor s examination in 
 silence for a while, then quietly asked: "Well, doc, 
 what s your verdict? Do I hit the long trail?" 
 
 "It looks that way, Jack," Braide replied, with a 
 good deal of feeling. 
 
 Munro closed his eyes and his face quivered. At last, 
 when he had regained control of his voice, he said : " One 
 o you boys find Father Halloran. I need him to outfit 
 me for this big trip. Be quick about it. I was raised 
 a Catholic," he explained to Braide and Raymond, 
 " and I need a priest " He tried to raise his head. 
 "Ann," he called, imperatively, "I want you here 
 till the priest comes " 
 
 She obeyed his call, sustained by her great pity, 
 and, kneeling at his side, asked, quietly, "What can I 
 do?" 
 
 He looked at her with wide eyes, whose expression 
 filled her throat with aching sorrow. "I m leaving 
 camp on a long trip," he said, quietly," and I want you 
 to say a good word for me ; maybe it 11 make it easier 
 for me where I m going." 
 
 At these tender words Ann s fear and hesitation 
 passed into a sort of awe. He was so piteously young, 
 so boyish, to take that lonely journey into the night. 
 She took his hand in both of hers and whispered a little 
 prayer, to which the dying man listened intently. At 
 the end she added, softly: " I have faith that the great 
 
 43 
 
Munro s Last Word 
 
 Judge will deal with you mercifully. He knows all 
 your motives as well as your temptations. Surely His 
 forgiveness is greater than man s." 
 
 " I take my chances," was his indomitable reply. " I 
 want to live, but I m not afraid to die. Rob, I want 
 you to stand by at the funeral. You can tell about me 
 better than any preacher. You know the worst of me. 
 I got you into trouble at the academy, but I didn t in 
 tend to you know that." 
 
 "I never marked that up against you, Hollie," re 
 plied Raymond, using the name he bore among the 
 cadets. 
 
 "I know you didn t. Doctor, give me something. 
 I don t want to go just yet. ... I want a few words. . . . 
 Give me breath, can t you?" he demanded, sharply. 
 
 Braide shook his head, and the dying man closed his 
 eyes, and his hands shut convulsively. When he opened 
 them he could only whisper, " Girl your hand." Ann 
 gave her hand. He pressed it hard. "You re the best 
 I ever met. Stay with me. It s a dark trail and no 
 blazes in the green timber. Good-bye " 
 
 With throat choking with emotion, Ann bent and 
 touched her lips to his cold forehead. 
 
 "You re good to me. So long, Rob," he breathed, 
 and Ann turned away, shaken with sobs, unable to 
 witness the struggle as the unquenchable spirit loosed 
 itself violently from the mangled body. 
 
 The funeral of the young leader was the most im 
 pressive ceremony ever seen in the camp. It seemed 
 that every man and nearly every woman in the dis 
 trict had assembled in the street before the Golden 
 Horn, and Raymond s succinct oration, delivered in a 
 
Hesper 
 
 conversational tone he scorned to make oratorical 
 capital of the moment was inaudible to those in the 
 outer circles. "Jack was wrong-headed, but his heart 
 was right." That was the substance of his plea. "He 
 never cheated or lied or deserted a friend, but he lived 
 defiantly and died violently. Of his life between the 
 date of his leaving the academy and our meeting here 
 I know no more than you. It was reckless and roving, 
 no doubt, of a piece with what we know of him here. 
 He would have made a notable character in the Middle 
 Ages, when a man could range freely up and down the 
 country and accuse or defend at his pleasure ; but these 
 are not the Middle Ages. Such lives as his lead to just 
 such abrupt ends, for disorder is not the rule. Society 
 to-day hates disorder. 
 
 "Jack was not a hypocrite. He knew his failings. 
 And when he asked me to stand here and tell a good 
 word for him, he knew I would not lie about him. He 
 was my friend. He proved it the other day not far 
 from here, and it was to save him from just this stern 
 business that Matt and I took him and tied him. He 
 refused to flee like a coyote he preferred to die fight 
 ing. I am not here to preach to draw lessons from 
 his life I am only here to say he was my friend, warm 
 hearted, ready to serve in time of trouble, and fair and 
 above-board in every contest. I hope the great Judge 
 when He enters up the charges against him will not for 
 get the credit side of his account. Till that day of 
 reckoning," he concluded, brokenly, "may he sleep 
 soundly; and if he dreams, let it be of the days when 
 we were happy cadets on furlough down the river, in 
 the glory of June." 
 
 With face still deeply lined with emotion, Raymond 
 432 
 
Munro s Last Word 
 
 made his way through the silent crowd and down to 
 the bungalow, eager to return to Ann and Louis. 
 
 "It is a strange thing," he began, as soon as he had 
 closed the door behind him, "how an erratic, disorderly 
 life like poor Hollie s appeals to us all. Theoretically, 
 we believe in order ; but when a man is brave enough, or 
 reckless enough, to ride across lots, how grateful we are 
 to him. At bottom, we are all gypsies and feudal 
 knights and Comanches. That s the fact. What other 
 man in this district could have brought forth such a 
 crowd?" 
 
 "I was thinking of that, too," replied Ann. "From 
 every reasonable point of view, he was a destructive 
 force, and yet my heart bled to see him die. He and 
 his like are the Robin Hoods of our day. I suppose 
 there were a great many people at the funeral?" 
 
 "An immense number the whole camp and sur 
 rounding country. Every cow-boy within fifty miles 
 is here. The procession will be well worth your seeing. 
 Louis must see it." 
 
 When the sound of a triumphant march announced 
 the coming of the funeral train, Raymond folded 
 Louis carefully in his blankets and bore him to the win 
 dow, and there held him in order that he might see the 
 passing of the captain of the vedettes. 
 
 Louis, wide-eyed, absorbed, intent, uttered no word, 
 but gazed in silence, one slender arm flung over Rob s 
 neck. He hardly breathed, so deep was his interest. 
 
 Ann looked upon it all with steadily expanding com 
 prehension of life s mystery. In the clear sunlight the 
 band appeared, stepping alertly, glittering in brass and 
 gay with scarlet and silver. Behind them, two and 
 two, leading a host of horsemen, rode nearly a hundred 
 *s 433 
 
Hesper 
 
 of the dead man s guard, a look of stern melancholy on 
 each brown face, proud of their place of honor, proud 
 of their shining weapons, their horses, their dangling 
 latigoes and decorated bridles. They ceased to fight 
 when their leader died, but many of them were of a 
 mind with him they scorned to flee, they remained 
 to do the last honors to their captain, reckless of law. 
 
 Behind these cavaliers of the plain rolled a few car 
 riages, with Hanley and Claire and two or three others 
 of the dead man s intimates in position as mourners. 
 The officers of the union were conspicuous by their ab 
 sence, but an army of miners of all nationalities and 
 all characters, led by Kelly and Adams on horseback, 
 tramped behind. Many of them could not speak the 
 dead man s name, but each dimly felt that he had 
 somehow died in their service, and that he was a good 
 man, and so they lent their work-twisted bodies to 
 the deeply significant pageant. Last of all came the 
 sight-seers from Bozle and the Springs, in all sorts and 
 conditions of vehicles, vulgar and insincere for the most 
 part, but adding, to Ann s eyes, a final touch of tragic 
 pathos. 
 
 "I hope Jack can see this," she said, almost invol 
 untarily. "He would enjoy it so." 
 
 "He can," replied Louis, without taking his big eyes 
 from the scene outside. "I know he can. How they 
 loved him!" he sighed. "I wish I had known him 
 better." 
 
 Raymond exchanged looks with Ann. "You see 
 the heart of the lawless!" 
 
 It passed at last, and the stillness, the brilliancy of 
 the springlike afternoon settled back upon the peak as 
 the air closes behind the flight of an eagle. The heart of 
 
 434 
 
Munro s Last Word 
 
 the revolt went away in Munro s small, straight body. 
 The vedettes broke up into squads of twos and threes 
 and rode away, never to reassemble. The miners 
 climbed weakly back to their haunts on the street, there 
 to chant in sad or furious voices the praises of their dead 
 leader. The sight-seers returned to their own petty 
 affairs of the day, putting aside the warning, the sig 
 nificance of the ceremony; but on the sensitive brain 
 of a dreaming boy the lights and shadows of that pro 
 cession fell with lasting power, and some day the world 
 may learn how much of the mystery of life and death 
 he drew from that ludicrous, picturesque, and solemn 
 intermingling of mourning miners and bronzed and 
 reckless mountaineers. 
 
XXXI 
 Ann Returns to New York 
 
 IN a few days Louis was able to be removed to the 
 valley, but his recovery was slow, and notwithstand 
 ing imperative letters from his mother, Mrs. Allard, Dr. 
 Braide strongly advised against his return to the East. 
 As a proprietor in the mine, Louis was now doubly 
 anxious to be on the ground, but, being prevented 
 from that, he called on Rob for frequent personal re 
 ports, which the senior partner was very glad to make. 
 
 These visits were delicious experiences to Raymond. 
 There was joy in laying aside his miner s clothes for a 
 day, to loaf in shining linen and patent-leather shoes. 
 It was a delight to be a guest at Jeannette s well- 
 filled table, but to sit beside Ann in the cart, or to 
 take dinner with her at the Casino of a Saturday night 
 and listen to the Hungarian band, restored his youth; 
 and Ann, to her astonishment, found an almost equal 
 pleasure in these simple entertainments. There was so 
 little to criticise in her lover s attitude his self-re 
 straint was most admirable, his reserve a satisfaction. 
 It was plain that he would wait for her decision in this 
 way indefinitely, and this deep-seated courtesy and rea 
 sonableness touched her; and yet she grew no nearer 
 to a decision as the weeks went by. 
 
 At last the day came when she decided to leave Louis 
 436 
 
Ann Returns to New York 
 
 in his care and return to her mother, desperately deter 
 mined to test her new-found happiness and her love, 
 though she did not put it thus. 
 
 Raymond received the announcement of her plan 
 with outward composure, though he said, sadly: "Now 
 that I know more about your life in the East, I am not 
 so sure I can make you happy, even with a million. 
 I ve lost my ambition to be rich, for what could I give 
 you, who have had everything?" 
 
 "I am not the great heiress you think; and, besides, 
 I ve eaten too much honey and preserves." 
 
 "Very well. Then you know where you can feast on 
 corn-bread and bacon." Then he became very grave. 
 "I am going to flee to my mountain. I can t bear to 
 see you take the train, and I will not say good-bye. I 
 will wait as patiently as I can till you send for me, and 
 if you feel that you that I am not fitted to make you 
 happy, I will not complain." And they parted with 
 only a clasp of hands. 
 
 On the journey eastward Ann had a great deal of 
 time to think, and the farther she descended upon the 
 plain the more certain it seemed that she was leaving it 
 all behind Raymond, the good Barnetts, and all 
 and a sadness which lay beyond tears seized upon her. 
 She felt, too, that Louis was growing out of her life 
 her control. He would soon be a man in the world of 
 men. 
 
 However, she approached New York on a glorious 
 morning in May, and the North River was a glitter 
 ing spread of leaping wavelets tossed into the sun 
 light by a brisk southwesterly wind, and her spirits 
 rose with a bound. 
 
 437 
 
Hesper 
 
 With a sense of boldness and daring she pushed for 
 ward amid a crowd of working-folk on the upper deck, 
 her eyes fixed on the irregular mass of the city looming 
 against the misty sky, notched, jagged, like a line of 
 sand-worn cliffs speckled with the holes of some rock- 
 piercing sea-birds. The innumerable water-craft start 
 ing and returning to the base of these walls were like 
 intent beetles in pursuit of prey. 
 
 Hardly more than half a year of sidereal time had 
 rolled between her going and her return, but, meas 
 ured by the changes within herself, ten times the length 
 of these days had passed over her head, each laden with 
 experiences so transforming that she had now the 
 aloofness of a traveller returning to his native land 
 after long wanderings in strange countries. New York 
 Bay, opening to right and to left, teemed with sugges 
 tion, took on new grandeur. It was now a glitter 
 ing gateway not the end, but the beginning of the 
 republic. Its relation to the vast interior States stood 
 revealed. 
 
 She had never seen the city at this early hour, and 
 the types of worn and hurrying women crowding the 
 gang-plank, the throngs of working-men, sallow and a 
 little sullen, menaced her as she mingled with them for 
 a moment before entering a carriage. 
 
 "How dispirited and sickly they all look," she said 
 to herself. 
 
 Raymond was in her thought constantly. "How 
 would all this seem to him?" she asked herself. "After 
 the plains, these crowds would be intolerable. I can t 
 think of him here. He belongs out there." In such 
 wise her thought ran on in a tumult of readjustment. 
 
 The morning was deliciously cool and very brilliant 
 438 
 
Ann Returns to New York 
 
 with sunlight, and as she rolled through Madison 
 Square and entered upon the lower avenue the girl s 
 throat filled with a sob of joy. The generous, good 
 mountains had not merely lured her to themselves, 
 teaching her to love them, they had restored her sanity 
 and the power to enjoy the glint of sunbeams anywhere 
 in the world. She was elate, throbbing with recov 
 ered love of life, with the regained joy of being young, 
 and, best of all, she found herself looking back each 
 moment with undiminished affection to the high peaks. 
 The wealth and power of her native city could not de 
 throne the sovereign majesty of Mogalyon and the 
 Hesperean wall. 
 
 The shopkeepers were drawing the curtains to dis 
 close their innumerable jewels, their exquisite pottery, 
 their rare carvings and weavings from all over the 
 world; but these heaped wares did not lessen, they only 
 enhanced, the beauty of the fir-tips traced against the 
 sunset sky. These rugs, the choicest work of the 
 Orient, only served to make the more exquisite the 
 turf of the mountain-peaks, and to enrich the brown 
 carpet of needles beneath the canon pines. Into this 
 moment of elation the thought of her mother intruded 
 with chilling effect. 
 
 The complete lack of sympathy between mother and 
 daughter dated from the day of her birth, for she had 
 never known maternal care. From the time she could 
 speak, paid servants and teachers guided her in femi 
 nine ways the cold and smileless woman who gave her 
 birth was a being of another world. No caresses were 
 ever invited by the mother and none were ever offered 
 by the child even the companionship of the gentle, im 
 pulsive father was cut short, or interdicted altogether, 
 
 439 
 
Hesper 
 
 during melancholy periods by his wife s exacting de 
 mands. 
 
 When Louis came the father revolted, refusing to 
 be forever at the whim of his wife. He gave up attend 
 ance upon her and devoted himself to the children. 
 This, Ann afterwards recalled, was the beginning of 
 her mother s morbid seclusion. Then came board 
 ing-school, from which she was called to receive her 
 father s last words, and these admonitions, gently 
 spoken, with a sad sweetness of tone, like the dying 
 hum of a bell, she had never forgotten. She had been 
 a mother to Louis, and she was coming back now with 
 the consciousness of a duty well performed ; but as she 
 approached the towering wall of the great apartment 
 hotel in which her mother made her home, she lost 
 courage, and the resolution she had made to forget 
 their differences and to confide her perplexities died 
 away. 
 
 Mrs. Allard received her in bed, reading she was 
 forever reading useless books and impassively said, 
 4 What an unearthly hour to arrive!" 
 
 Ann took her lax hand and bent and kissed her chill 
 lips. How are you feeling, mother?" she asked, ten 
 derly. 
 
 "Miserably, and Mr. Allard is away, as usual," she 
 replied, with a bitter frown. "Your letters were very 
 few very unsatisfactory. Why did you not return 
 sooner?" 
 
 Instantly Ann s old feeling of sullen anger and re 
 sentment resurged like a tide and threatened to bury 
 all her good resolutions, but she struggled with and 
 rose above her resentment and said, gently, " I didn t 
 intend to neglect my duty I wrote as often " 
 
 440 
 
Ann Returns to New York 
 
 Her mother interrupted her as she entered upon a 
 more extended confidence. "Go to your room and 
 bathe, and get your breakfast. We will talk over 
 Louis extraordinary plans afterwards." 
 
 Her own rooms, at the back of the suite, faced the 
 morning, and the sun was flooding them with light as 
 she entered. The familiar sense of reaching a safe 
 harbor returned to her as she closed the door behind 
 her. Everything was in place, even her maid Sarah, 
 who responded to her cordial greeting with words of 
 admiration. " How well you are looking! Your color 
 is wonderful." 
 
 "Thank you, Sarah. How have you been?" 
 
 "Not very well, miss. It s been lonesome without 
 you. I do hope you ll not leave me behind again." 
 
 Each article was as Ann had left it ; even the book 
 she had put down last had been lifted, dusted, and put 
 back in the same spot every day. Her return was like 
 a return of the dead, so devotedly had the room been 
 kept against her need. 
 
 First of all the bath allured, and when, refreshed 
 and rerobed, she yielded herself to the care of her 
 maid, she seemed so settled, so deep in her old-time 
 way of life, that the peaks and their shadows began 
 swiftly to recede. The immediate future troubled her. 
 At about eleven her mother would send for her and 
 ask for a confession. This would not be an easy or 
 pleasant interview, but it was coming. 
 
 " She will, of course, sneer at Robert, and deny every 
 one of Louis requests. She has probably included me 
 in her plans for the summer. If we go abroad, it will 
 be the same wearisome round of noisy hotels, the same 
 complaints, the same controversies. If we stay at home,. 
 
 441 
 
Hesper 
 
 it will be Lenox and Bar Harbor and mother. It is 
 shameful of me, but she depresses me. And how lone 
 ly and wretched she is now! She is so strong and yet 
 so inert, she saps my very life. And so the summer 
 will pass to what good purpose ? If I could influence 
 her but I can t. Oh, I wanted to tell her everything 
 I need her love but I am afraid." 
 
 With a tap on the door the maid announced a tele 
 gram. 
 
 Ann clutched at the little yellow envelope and tore 
 it open swiftly. It was from Robert. 
 
 "Love and greeting from all. Louis quite himself, 
 Wants to go back to the mine. Will hold him at the 
 Springs for a week longer miss Hesper horribly. 
 
 "ROBERT." 
 
 Instantly the heart-sick girl returned in memory to 
 the Springs. Closing her eyelids, she lifted an inward 
 gaze to the glory-covered head of old Mogalyon. The 
 vivid sunlight was smiting fierce against his breast, 
 but on his brow, like a vast turban of purple and snow- 
 white, a cloud rested. They were all on the wide, 
 vine -clad veranda which opened upon the west 
 sweet Jeannette, jovial Don; Louis, impatient, restless, 
 lyric of speech, and Robert How sympathetic they 
 all were how good and loving! "I have no other 
 friends so vital to me," she admitted. 
 
 Opening her eyes to the present, she again took 
 thought of the coming interview with her mother, 
 whom at the moment she pitied. Her step-father was 
 away he was always away but, as he had never 
 presumed in any domestic matter at any time, the 
 discussion lay between her mother and herself. "How 
 
 442 
 
Ann Returns to New York 
 
 can I make her understand that this journey in my 
 father s footsteps has developed in me the saving 
 grace of his legacy to me. The old, purposeless routine 
 is waiting for me. I feel it. This high-colored, arti 
 ficial hotel is a malign influence. I cannot, I must not 
 sink into my groove again." 
 
 The interview with her mother was quite as painful 
 as she had feared. She began by demanding to know 
 why Louis was not with her, and when Ann re-explain 
 ed bluntly that he would not come, Mrs. Allard looked 
 at her daughter in cold silence for a full minute, and 
 then said: "There is something about you that I 
 don t understand. You look well; but Louis should 
 come home. That climate doesn t agree with him." 
 
 "On the contrary; his illness is due to his own im- 
 petuousness in riding up into the mountains without 
 sufficient clothing." 
 
 "What s the meaning of this talk of his about buying 
 a mine?" 
 
 Ann explained this as patiently as she could, and 
 when Mrs. Allard contemptuously said, "He shall do 
 nothing of the kind," Ann broke out: 
 
 "Mother, you don t seem to understand that Louis 
 is no longer a child, and that he is growing very dif 
 ficult to manage. I used my best powers to persuade 
 him to come home and consult with you, but he re 
 fused; furthermore, the doctor advised against his 
 coming just now." 
 
 "I don t care what the doctor said; my plans are 
 settled. I am to spend the summer in the Tyrol, and I 
 want Louis with me. The air there is better for him 
 than the raw winds of that crazy mining-camp. I wish 
 you would write him or telegraph him at once to come." 
 
 443 
 
Hesper 
 
 "You are not asking me to go with you, I hope?" 
 
 "Certainly you are going." 
 
 Ann turned white and tense and sat for a long time 
 in silence, a deep humming sound in her ears, well 
 knowing that the hour of revolt had come. Her voice 
 was hoarse with emotion when she spoke, "Mother, 
 you must not make any more plans that include me." 
 
 Mrs. Allard s eyelids opened in surprise. "Why 
 not?" 
 
 "Because I am to be married very soon." 
 
 Mrs. Allard seemed stunned for a moment, but she 
 recovered and asked, ironically, "Are you, indeed? 
 How very considerate of you to tell me! May I ask to 
 whom?" 
 
 "You may. His name is Robert Raymond." 
 
 "One of those Western miners?" 
 
 "Yes, a miner, but an Eastern man." 
 
 "Now I understand Wayne Peabody s glum face. 
 I infer that this Mr. Raymond is rich?" 
 
 "No," replied Ann, quite simply; "he works with his 
 hands among his men." 
 
 " It s like you to throw yourself away. Do you think 
 I will consent to such a piece of folly?" 
 
 Ann was coldly calm. "Fortunately your consent 
 is not required." Then the thought of how all this 
 would sound to her lover moved her, and with tears of 
 entreaty in her voice she cried out: "Oh, mother, don t 
 let s quarrel, wait till you see Robert! You cannot 
 help but admire him he is so big and manly. I came 
 here to ask your help, your advice. I wanted to con 
 fide in you. I want your love, your sympathy." 
 
 "You have it my profound sympathy. But you 
 cannot have my consent to such a foolish act." 
 
 444 
 
Ann Returns to New York 
 
 Ann rose, wounded, bleeding, but no longer in a mood 
 for confidences or entreaties. "Further controversy 
 is useless, mother. I have given my future into Robert s 
 hands." 
 
 Once more in her room, she caught up a little framed 
 portrait from her desk. "Oh, my beautiful, poetic, 
 dear father, now I know why you loved the mountains, 
 and why you sickened and died here in the city ! You 
 gave me a precious heritage, and I have only just 
 found it. I will live as you would have me live, dear," 
 She touched the picture to her lips as a sign of her dedi 
 cation of herself to the new life. "You would have 
 liked Robert, and I love him!" 
 
 With bosom heaving with passionate resolution, she 
 hurried to her desk and wrote a telegram in big, strong 
 letters, as if to make an imperishable record: 
 
 " Robert, come for me. I am waiting. HESPER." 
 
 THE END 
 
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 scene is laid in an English country house, where an amiable Eng 
 lish noblemar i? the centre of matrimonial interest on the part of 
 both the English and Americans present. 
 
 f ^Graceful, sprightly, almost delicious in its dialogue and action. 
 It is a book about which one is tempted to write ecstatically. 
 
 THE METHODS OF LADY WALDERHURST, 
 
 By Francis Hodgson Burnett 
 A Companion Volume to " The Making of a Marchioness." 
 
 With illustrations by Charles D. Williams, and with initial 
 Tetters, tail-pieces, and borders, by A. K. Womrath. Beautifully 
 printed and daintily bound, and boxed. 
 
 "The Methods of Lady Walderhurst" is a delightful story 
 which combines the sweetness of " The Making of a Marchioness, 
 with the dramatic qualities of " A Lady of Quality." Lady Wal 
 derhurst is one of the most charming characters in modern fiction. 
 
 VAYENNE, By Percy Brebner 
 
 With illustrations by E. Fuhr. 
 
 This romance like the author s The Princess Maritza is charged 
 to the brim with adventure. Sword play, bloodshed, justice grown 
 the multitude, sacrifice, and romance, mingle in dramatic episodes 
 that are born, flourish, and pass away on every page. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, - - NEW YORK 
 
FAMOUS COPYRIGHT BOOKS 
 IN POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS 
 
 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. Library 
 size. Printed on excellent paper most of them with illustra 
 tions of marked beauty and handsomely bound in cloth. 
 Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 A SIX-CYLINDER COURTSHIP, By Edw. Salisbury Field 
 
 With a color frontispiece by Harrison Fisher, and illustra 
 tions by Clarence F. Underwood, decorated pages and end 
 sheets. Harrison Fisher head in colors on cover. Boxed. 
 A story of cleverness. It is a jolly good romance of love at 
 first sight that will be read with undoubted pleasure. Automobil- 
 ing figures in the story which is told with light, bright touches, 
 while a happy gift of humor permeates it all. 
 
 " The book is full of interesting folks. The patois of the garage is 
 used with full comic and realistic effect, and effervescently, cul 
 minating in the usual happy finish." St. Louis Mirror. 
 
 AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW, 
 
 By Gene Stratton-Porter Author of "FRECKLES " 
 
 With illustrations in color by Oliver Kemp, decorations by 
 Ralph Fletcher Seymour and inlay cover in colors. 
 * The story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrific 
 ing love; the friendship that gives freely without return, and the 
 love that seeks first the happiness of the object. The novel is 
 brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature and its 
 pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all. 
 
 JUDITH OF THE CUM3ERLANDS, By Alice MacGowan 
 
 With illustrations in colors, and inlay cover by George Wright. 
 No one can fail to enjoy this moving tale with its lovely and ar 
 dent heroine, its frank, fearless hero, its glowing love passages, 
 and its variety of characters, captivating or engaging humorous 
 or saturnine, villains, rascals, and men of good will. A talfe strong 
 and interesting in plot, faithful and vivid as a picture of wild 
 mountain life, and in its characterization full of warmth and glow. 
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE, By Hudson Douglas 
 
 With illustrations by Will Grefe. 
 
 Has the catchiest of titles, and it is a ripping good tale from 
 Chapter I to Finis no weighty problems to be solved, but just a 
 fine running story, full of exciting incidents, that never seemed 
 strained or improbable. It is a dainty love yarn involving three 
 men and a girl. There is not a dull or trite situation in the book. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publ-shers, - - NEW YORK 
 
FAMOUS COPYRIGHT BOOKS 
 IX POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS 
 
 Re-issues of the great fiterary successes of the time. Library 
 sue. Printed on excellent paper most of them with illustra 
 tions of marked beauty and handsomely bound in cloth. 
 Price, 75 cent? a volume, postpaid. 
 
 : N JUROR S HOUSE, By Stewart Edward White 
 DruMtfindMfertktttifeaf "THE CALL OF THE NORTH." 
 
 Illustrated from Photographs of Scenes from the Play. 
 C**f*rar s ffimst is a Hudson Bay trading port where the Fur 
 Trading; Company tolerated no rivalry. Trespassers were sen 
 tenced to **La Longue Traverse "which meant official death. 
 How Ned Trent entered the territory, took la lonrtu traverse, 
 and the journey down the river of life with the factor s only 
 daughter is admirably told. It is a warm, vivid, and dramatic story, 
 and depicts the tenderness and mystery of a woman s heart. 
 
 ARIZONA NIGHTS. Ey Siewart Edward \\Tute. 
 
 With Olustratioas by N. C. Wyeth, and beautiful inlay cover. 
 
 A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phase of the life of 
 
 fln> ^^rf t |ffaiff*f and desert, ***d all, taken together, forming a 
 
 single sharply-cut picture of fife in the far Southwest. All the 
 
 tonic of the West is in this masterpiece of Stewart Edward While. 
 
 THE MYSTERY. 
 
 By Stewart Edward White and Samuel Hopkins Adams 
 Will* iflttsi lations by Will Crawford. 
 
 For breathless interest, concentrated excitement and extraordi 
 narily good storytelling on aD counts, no more completely satisfy 
 ing romance has appeared for years. It has OCTJII voted the best 
 
 LICHT-r .NCIRLD C1NTRV. Bv David 
 V--.:- 
 
 y.r . - - ..--.- ------- .--.-.r --- -r- -:--- : :,- .--- :--.--= 
 
 companies as his field of battle: the salons of the great Fifth 
 
 -. : -.- --:,- --- :-..- v.r ir:-::.^-. -- : - - 1 - . -: .: ~r--. 
 
 the two thins w 
 
 THE SECOND GENERATION, By 
 
 .:.. :- : n : . : : : . . 7 ::..:: . . i. . . ; : i~ i . r. . :-. . : ~_ - t r . 
 It is a story that proves how, in some cases, the greatest har 
 
 children, is to leave them his 
 
 SET & DUNLAP. PnMiArrs, - - NEW YORK 
 
FAMOUS COPYRIGHT BOOKS 
 IN POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS 
 
 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. Library 
 size. Printed on excellent paper most of them with illustra 
 tions of marked beauty and handsomely bound in cloth. 
 Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA, 
 
 By Kate Douglas Wiggin With illustrations by F. C. Yohn 
 
 Additional episodes in the girlhood of the delightful little hero 
 ine at Riverboro which were not included in the story of " Rebecca 
 of Sunnybrook Farm." and they are as characteristic and delight 
 ful as any part of that famous story. Rebecca is as distinct a crea 
 tion in the second volume as in the first. 
 
 THE SILVER BUTTERFLY, By Mrs. Wilson Woodrow 
 
 With illustrations in colors by Howard Chandler Christy. 
 
 A story of love and mystery, full of color, charm, and vivacity, 
 dealing with a South American mine, rich beyond dreams, and of 
 a New York maiden, beyond dreams beautiful both known as 
 the Silver Butterfly. Well named is The Silver Butterfly ! There 
 could not be a better symbol of the darting swiftness, the eager 
 love plot, the elusive m ystery and the flashing wit. 
 
 BEATRIX OF CLARE, By John Reed Scott 
 
 illustrations by Clarence F. Underwood. 
 
 A --irited and irresistibly attractive historical romance of the 
 fifteenth century, boldly conceived and skiifuiiy carried out. In 
 the hero and* heroine Mr. Scott has created a pair wnose mingled 
 emotions and and alternating hopes and fears will find a welcome 
 in manv lovers of the present hoar. Beatrix is a fascinting daugh 
 ter or live. 
 
 A LITTLE BROTHER OF THE RICH, 
 
 By Joseph Medill Patterson 
 
 Frontispiece by Hazel Martyn Trudeau, and illustrations by 
 Walter Dean Goldt . 
 
 Tells the - ind is a vivid and truthful pic 
 
 ture of society and stage life written by one who Is himself a con 
 spicuous member of the Western millionaire class. Full of grim 
 satire, caustic wit and flashing epigrams. " Is sensational to a de 
 gree in its them-. ::s treatment, lashing society as it was 
 never scourged before." Xeia York Sun. 
 
 UROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, - - NEW YORK 
 
FAMOUS COPYRIGHT BOOKS 
 
 IN POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS 
 
 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time, library size, 
 printed on excellent paper most of them finely illustrated. Full and 
 handsomely bound in cloth. Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 NEDRA, by George Barr McCutcheon, with color frontispiece 
 and other illustrations by Harrison Fisher. 
 
 The story of an elopement of a young couple from Chicago, who 
 decide to go to London, travelling as brother and sister. Their diffi 
 culties commence in New York and become greatly exaggerated 
 when they are shipwrecked in mid-ocean. The hero finds himself 
 stranded on the island of Nedra with another girl, whom he has 
 rescued by mistake. The story gives an account of their finding 
 some of the other passengers, and the circumstances which resulted 
 from the strange mix-up. 
 
 POWER LOT, by Sarah P. McLean Greene. Illustrated. 
 
 The story of the reformation of a man and his restoration to self- 
 respect through the power of honest labor, the exercise of honest in 
 dependence, and the aid of clean, healthy, out-of-door life and sur 
 roundings. The characters take hold of the heart and win sympathy. 
 The dear old story has never been more lovingly and artistically told. 
 
 MY MAMIE ROSE. The History of My Regeneration, by 
 Owen Kildare. Illustrated. 
 
 This autobiography is a powerful book of love and sociology. Reads 
 lake the strangest fiction. Is the strongest truth and deals with the 
 stery of a man s redemption through a woman s love and devotion. 
 
 JOHN BURT, by Frederick Upham Adams, with illustrations. 
 
 John Burt, a New England lad, goes West to seek his fortune and 
 finds it in gold mining. He becomes one of the financial factors and 
 pitilessly crushes his enemies. The story of the Stock Exchange 
 manipulations was never more vividly and engrossingly told. A love 
 story runs through the book, and is handled with infinite skill. 
 
 THE HEART LINE, by Gelett Burgess, with halftone illustra 
 tions by Lester Ralph, and inlay cover in colors. 
 
 A great dramatic story of the city that was. A storv of Bohemian 
 life in San Francisco, before the disaster, presented with mirror-like 
 accuracy. Compressed into it are all the sparkle, all the gayety, all 
 the wild, whirling life of the glad, mad, bad, and most delightful city 
 of the Golden Gate. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, - - New York 
 
FAMOUS COPYRIGHT BOOKS 
 
 IN POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS 
 
 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time, library size, 
 printed on excellent paper most of them finely illustrated. Full and 
 handsomely bound in cloth. Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 CAROLINA LEE. By Lillian Bell. With frontispiece by Dora 
 Wheeler Keith. 
 
 Carolina Lee is the Uncle Tom s Cabin of Christian Science. Its 
 keynote is " Divine Love" in the understanding of the knowledge f 
 all good things which may be obtainable. When the tale is tola!, the 
 sick healed, wrong changed to right, poverty of purse and spirit 
 turned into riches, lovers made worthy of each other and happily 
 united, including Carolina Lee and her affinity, it is borne upon the 
 reader that he has been giving rapid attention to a free lecture on 
 Christian Science ; that the working out of each character is an argu 
 ment for " Faith ;" and that the theory is persuasively attractive. 
 
 A Christian Science novel that will bring delight to the heart of 
 every believer in that faith. It is a well told story, entertaining, and 
 cleverly mingles art, humor and sentiment 
 
 HILMA, by William Tillinghast Eldridge, with illustrations by 
 Harrison Fisher and Martin Justice, and inlay cover. 
 
 It is a rattling good tale, written with charm, and full of remark 
 able happenings, dangerous doings, strange events, jealous intrigues 
 and sweet love making. The reader s interest is not permitted to lag, 
 but is taken up and carried on from incident to incident with ingenu 
 ity and contagious enthusiasm. The story gives us the Graustark 
 and The Prisoner of Zenda th rill, but the tale is treated with fresh 
 ness, ingenuity, and enthusiasm, and the climax is both unique a^id 
 satisfying. It will hold the fiction lover close to every page. 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE FOUR FINGERS, by Fred M. 
 White, with halftone illustrations by Will Grefe. 
 
 A fabulously rich gold mine in Mexico is known by the picturesque 
 and mysterious name of The four Fingers. It originally belonged 
 io an Aztec tribe, and its location is known to one surviving descendant 
 a man possessing wonderful occult power. Should any person un t 
 lawfully discover its whereabouts, four of his fingers are mysteriously 
 removed, and one by one returned to him. The appearance of the* 
 final fourth betokens his swift and violent death. ^ 
 
 Surprises, strange and startling, are concealed in every chapter cl 
 this completely engrossing detective story. The horrible fascination 
 of the tragedy holds one in rapt attention to the end. And through 
 it runs the thread of a cnrious love story. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, - - New York 
 
FAMOUS COPYRIGHT BOOKS 
 
 IN POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS 
 
 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time, library size, 
 printed on excellent paper most of them finely illustrated. Full and 
 aaadsomely bound in doth. Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 THE CATTLE BARON S DAUGHTER. A Novel. By Harold 
 Bindloss. With illustrations by David Ericson, 
 
 A story of the fight for the cattle-ranges of the West. Intense in 
 terest is aroused by its pictures of life in the cattle country at that 
 critical moment of transition when the great tracts of land used for 
 grazing vrere taken up by the incoming homesteaders, \vith the in 
 evitable result of fierce contest, of passionate emotion on both sides, 
 and of final triumph of the inevitable tendency of the times. 
 
 WINSTON OF THE PRAIRIE. With illustrations in color by 
 W. Herbert Dunton. 
 
 A man of upright character, young and clean, but badly worsted 
 in the battle of life, consents as a desperate resort to impersonate for 
 a period a man of his own age scoundrelly in character but of an 
 aristocratic and moneved family. The better man finds himself barred 
 from resuming his old name. How, coming into the other man s pos 
 sessions, he wins the respect of all men, and the love of a fastidious, 
 delicately nurtured girl, is the thread upon which the story hangs. It 
 is one of the best novels of the West that has appeared for years. 
 
 THAT MAINWARING AFFAIR. By A. Maynard Barbour, 
 With illustrations by E. Plaisted Abbott. 
 
 A novel with a most intricate and carefully unraveled plot. A 
 
 naturally probable and excellently developed story and the reader 
 
 will follow the fortunes of each character with unabating interest 
 
 * the interest is keen at the close of the first chapter and i~- 
 
 creases to the end 
 
 AT THE TIME APPOINTED. With a frontispiece in color, 
 by J. H. Marchand. 
 
 The fortunes of a young mining engineer who through an accident 
 loses his memory and identity. In his new character and under his 
 new name, the hero lives a new life of struggle )a.nd adventure. The 
 Tolume will be found highly entertaining by those who appreciate a 
 thoroughly good story. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, - - New York 
 
GENERAL LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA BERKELEY 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the 
 
 date to which renewed. 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 
 
 REC D LD 
 
 DEC 5 - 1961 
 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY