The Heart of the Range

various saloons and the Blue Pigeon Store and Bill Lainey, the fat landlord of the hotel, who sat snoring in a r

hoeing a mule. The mule was invisible, but one knew it was a mule because Piney Jackson has just come out and taken a two-by-four from the wo

customers and the bartender. One of the former, a brown-hai

g on, the f

ly jump t

l heart goes

tires in

both elbows on the bar and grinned at the bartender. That worthy gr

Bill," Mr. Dawson no

's Swing?

ntleman somewhat over-served with liquor, crossed the barroom to where bristle-haired Sw

Growing irritated by this continued indifference on the part of Mr. Tunstall, Mr. Dawson seized

d himself into a corner and

a perplexed face

h a feller like that?" Mr.

rarily diverted Mr. Dawson's attention. For Mr. Dawson had once ridden for the Cros

g his joy at sight of his old friend, and carefully steering Mr. Daws

, I have, and I aim to spend it free an' plenty, 'cause there's more

took advantage of a friend's privilege to be insul

m-more diff-diff-diff'cult, me an' Swing do, so we're goin' to Arizona where the gold grows. No more

Richie. "When yo're stakin'

Mr. Dawson, solemnly

nother-sev

r of a head that liquor did not easily affect) departed homewar

he two had begun their party immediately after breakfast. Mr. Tunstall had succumbed early, but Mr. Dawson had not once halted his efforts to make the celebration a huge success. So it is no

awoke at dawn on a side-hill, a sharp rock prodding him in the small of the back and the bridle-reins of his dozing horse

manded of the world at l

owned in the pains of his aching head. Never was such all-pervading ache. He knew the top w

He stood up, but as promptly sat down. In a whisper-for

last glass it was one too many. I never did know when to stop. I'd like t

th disfavour. He had

ooks like a boy's saddle-an' a old saddle-bet Noah used one just like it-try to rope with

head throbbed like a squeezed boil, but-he wanted to learn what was in that

s fingers, and drew forth a small package wrapped in newspaper and ti

ngers for a reflective instant, then he s

that there were narrow blue ribbons running round the neck of that undershirt. He unrolled the socks and found them much longer in the leg than the kind habitually worn by men. Mr. Dawson agitatedly dived his hand once mo

id, cheerlessly. "I've s