The Spoilers of the Valley

Robert Watson

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• Publié par: chuij
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 26
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Spoilers of the Valley, by Robert Watson This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: The Spoilers of the Valley Author: Robert Watson Release Date: August 3, 2009 [EBook #29588] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPOILERS OF THE VALLEY *** Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net The Spoilers of the Valley R O B E R T W A T S O N THE SPOILERS OF THE VALLEY BY ROBERT WATSON AUTHOR OF “The Girl of O. K. Valley,” etc. A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York Published by arrangement with George H. Doran Company Printed in U. S. A. COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA TO A LADY CALLED NAN CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIX XX XXI XXII XXIII XXIV XXV XXVI The Man Hunt The Wolf Note At Pederstone’s Forge Wayward Langford The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing A Bird to Pluck Wild Man Hanson Goes Wild Like Man, Like Horse The Doings of Percival Jim’s Grand Toot Sol Wants a Good Wife––Bad The Dance The Big Steal The Round-Up Sol’s Matrimonial Mix-Up The Breakaway Wayward Langford’s Grand Highland Fling The Coat of Many Colours Ranching De Luxe A Breach and a Confession A Maiden, a Lover and a Heathen Chinee Fire Begets Hot Air So Deep in Love am I The Landslide The Bank Robbery The Dawn of a New Day 11 19 36 44 58 67 74 89 101 122 140 148 165 176 190 203 224 240 258 273 302 320 338 355 372 382 The Spoilers of the Valley 11 THE SPOILERS OF THE VALLEY CHAPTER I The Man Hunt Up on the hill, high above the twinkling lights of the busy little ranching town of Vernock, at the open diningroom window of a pretty, leafy-bowered, six-roomed bungalow, a girl, just blossoming into womanhood, stood in her night robes and dressing gown, braiding her dark hair. She was slight of form, but health glowed from her expressive face. She was dreamily contemplating the beauties of the night. Below her, stretching like a fan, was the Valley upon which was built the merry, happy-go-lucky, scattered little town she loved. Everywhere around were the eternal, undulating hills, enclosing the Valley in a world by itself. The night had just lately closed in. The sky was clear and presented a wall and a dome of almost inky blue. Away due south, right over the peak of a hill, on the wall of blue hung a great star, bright and scintillating like a floating soap bubble, while a handspan straight above that again a thin, crescent moon lay coldly on its back sending up a reflection of its own streaky, ghostly light from the distant lake which was no more than visible through a rift in the hills. As the girl drank in the delights of the peaceful panorama spreading away right from her very feet, she was aroused sharply from her meditation. She heard, or fancied she heard, a distant shot, followed by the sound of excited voices and the barking of dogs. She went to the door, threw it open fearlessly and peered down the hill; but all was silent again save for this barking which travelled farther and farther away all the time, being caught up and carried along in a desultory fashion by the dogs of all the neighbouring houses and ranches. She stood for a moment, looking about her, then, shivering slightly with the cold, she threw a kiss to the Valley, closed the door again and turned slowly toward her bedroom. Her fingers were upon the lamp to turn down the light, when three short peremptory raps at the back door caused her to start nervously. She took up the lamp and tiptoed into the kitchen. “Who’s there?” she called. The rapping was repeated; this time with a much greater insistence. “Quick,––quick! For God’s sake let me in!” came a hoarse, muffled voice which sounded strangely tired. The girl set the lamp on the kitchen table and went cautiously forward to the door. “Who’s there?” she repeated, her hand on the door fastenings. “Let me in!” came the voice in desperation. “If you have a heart, please open.” “I cannot until I know who you are. I am a girl. I am alone.” A groan escaped the man on the outside, and the anguish of it struck into the bosom of Eileen Pederstone. Once more the voice came pleadingly:–– “And I am a man! I am hunted,––I need help.” The girl shot back the bolt, threw wide the door and stood back with bated breath. A masculine figure, panting and dishevelled, staggered in, blinking in the lamplight. Eileen slowly pushed the door shut, keeping her frightened eyes upon the incomer who tottered weakly to the wall and leaned against it for support. Dirty from head to heel, he was dressed only in a pair of ragged trousers and a torn, mud-stained shirt. His stockingless feet were partly hidden in a pair of broken boots. Several days’ growth of beard made it hard to guess him young or old. But his blue eyes, despite their tired and bloodshot appearance, betrayed, as they gazed in wonder at the girl, many characteristics of a youthfulness not yet really past. While the two stood thus, the far-away sound of voices floated up the hill from below. The fugitive’s eyes roved like those of a hunted animal. He braced himself as if ashamed of his momentary show of fear. He tried hard to smile, but the smile was a dismal failure. “Sorry,” he panted, “but––but–––” His voice sounded harsh and hoarse from exposure. “Is there anywhere– –any place where you could hide me till they pass. They were only––only a little behind me. Guess––I– –shouldn’t––shouldn’t have got you mixed up in this. They are coming this way. They want to take me back– –but I can’t––I won’t go back there. Ah!” He clung with his fingers against the wall to prevent him from collapsing. In a moment, anxious and all alert, Eileen searched the kitchen for a place of safe hiding. She thought of the cupboards, the clothes-closets in her own bedroom, even her bed of spotless linen; but none of these afforded security.