Porter Emerson Browne

“ A ranger came in. He was an angular fellow, with a bushy mustache, and eyes like a ferret. His gun was on his hip, and one hand never left it. His name was Bradley. Gilbert knew him well. Often had he met him in the hills. He was known as one of the best shots of all that company of men who pursued criminals and bandits through the State, and drove them over the border. Few escaped him; and he had a train of lieutenants who adored him. A born fighter, a born pursuer of men, who loved his desperate life, and gloried in his conquests. Some called him Bradley the Inexorable. ”

“ Kathryn had wandered to where the white blooms clustered thickest. She was thinking—thinking deeply, bitterly. Elinor drew closer to Blake.
"I like you, Tom," she said, softly. "You're a good man—a decent man—a clean man—and they're mighty scarce these days.... All that Kate may have owed to John Schuyler, she long since paid to the last sad penny.... All your life you have been paying the things that you did not owe.... There is happiness, somewhere; a happiness that can be found." ”

“ There had entered the breakfast room the wife of John Schuyler. She saw Blake and came forward, hand outstretched, welcome in her eyes. She had come to be very like her child—her child and Schuyler's—had the daughter of Jimmy Blair—she was like her child grown up, glorified into womanhood. Her hair was the same gold-brown, a little unruly, clinging against her temples, nestling at neck-nape. Her eyes were the same deep violet—perhaps a little darker—a little softer—a little less wondering; for years bring knowledge, and when one begins to know, then one must cease, somewhat, to wonder. ”

“ They were always good losers, as well as modest winners. The land was rich in possibilities, as Sturgis had told Pell; and though the hot season lasted interminably and caused one's spirits, as well as one's hopes, to droop, there were enchanting spring days and bright, colorful, dwindling autumns when the air was keen and clear, and life was a song with youth for its eternal theme.
Men with families bore the hardest burdens in their early struggle for success. Gilbert, being single, had less to worry about than many another; but his Uncle Henry was a handicap. ”

“ And I never thought that would happen."
"It's good to be here," he returned, looking steadily upon her. "It's good to be here, Kate. It's a perfect place, this—perfect."
Elinor had risen; plucking a bending blossom, inhaling of its delicate fragrance, she had wandered through the broad archway of the arbor, toward the Sound.
There was a moment of silence. There came from between Blake's lips a deep sigh.
Kathryn looked up, quickly.
"What's the matter, Tom?"
He shook his head again.
"I don't know. Sometimes things go all wrong—dead wrong—and no one can tell why, or how, or what to do." ”

“ Schuyler rounded on him. "Don't call me that!" he said, petulantly. "Call me the Fool."
Blake shook his head, in the gripping horror of it all.
"It makes me sick," he murmured, to himself, "sick at heart!"
Schuyler had heard.
"It makes me sick, too," he cackled. He pointed to the shattered mirror, above the mantel. "Do you see that?" he demanded. "There isn't a whole one in the house. I don't dare to look at myself."
Came to Blake's mind now, stricken and wracked as it had been, by that which he had seen, a glimmer of hope. He had heard of men like this who had come back to life—to reason. ”

“ Gilbert said. "Think of that!" He turned and faced the others once more.
"An' we're goin' to get skinned out of millions! Oh, my Gawd!" The poor old invalid wailed it out, and rocked himself in his chair. How he wished he could rise, step out on the floor and knock Pell and Hardy down! Why didn't his strong and husky young nephew do it? What was the matter with the present generation, anyhow? Wasn't there any red blood in it? If he had only been younger, and strong, able to fight for what he knew to be his rights! But here he was, tied down in a wheel chair, trapped, helpless, impotent. ”

“ Kathryn had turned to him. There was in her eyes a frank gladness—a sincere welcome. She was glad to see him; how glad, she herself scarcely knew. She had few friends; for there were but few people for whom she really cared. She had known Blake for many, many years—known him and liked him, and liking, had respected. He was of the few men whom money, and bachelorhood, have no power to spoil. And they are few indeed. The one has power to spoil, you know, even as has the other; and both together—unusual indeed is the man who can resist. ”

“ He suddenly saw Gilbert, and, not a whit abashed, turned on him. "So that's why you won't marry Hardy's daughter! I see it all now! I've been as blind as a hoot-owl!"
There came the sound of a Ford stopping outside, and footsteps approached up the path that led to the adobe.
"It's all right, Lucia," Gilbert said, and she went upstairs, almost weeping. Then he whirled about and glared at his uncle. "It's a good thing—no, I don't know what I'm saying. You're an invalid, or I'd strike you, despite your years, Uncle Henry. For heaven's sake, can't you learn to mind your own business?" ”

“ She nodded.
"To another fool?"
She shook her head, merrily.
"Oh, no," she replied, red lips pursed. "To a man—this time."
He shrunk a little. The madness was not far behind.
"Well, squeeze him dry," he muttered. "Squeeze the honor and the manhood and the life and the soul out of him, won't you? And then Parmalee, and Rogers, and Van Dam will laugh at him from their hole in hell. And I'll laugh at all of you; for I'll be safe from you all. So squeeze him dry, won't you, you Vampire!" ”

“ Gilbert came to himself.
"Oil!" he said. "Then this ranch, instead of being worth nothing, would be worth hundreds of thousand of dollars—maybe millions!" He had taken the bag from Pell's extended hand, and now turned in dismay and confusion to the window, and put the bag on a chair. What a world it was, and how terrible that every other man seemed to be a predatory animal, ready to spring upon his neighbor and wrest anything he had away from him. What a world, indeed! No wonder young men lost their faith and courage!
"Millions!" The word caught Uncle Henry's fancy and imagination. ”

“ At first Parks, as most, had come to think that the man was innately a libertine, awaiting but the right one to strike the hidden flint and set the tinder aglow—the tinder that would burn, and consume, and destroy. He had known of men like that—of men who went the even pathway of their lives until there crossed it another who tore them from it; and that one they followed, leaving soul and morals and decency and cleanliness forever behind them. This, at first, he had thought to be John Schuyler. For the woman was beautiful—beautiful as an animal is beautiful.... ”

“ But, like Angela, she had moment when she could have shaken him. For "Red" didn't fight hard enough for what he wanted. He was naïve to the point of stupidity at times; and women like aggressive men—even men who are capable of flogging them into submission, deny it as they will. "Red" was gentle and mild, though thoroughly manly. Both Angela and Mrs. Quinn would have liked to see him live up to his fiery hair.
He beamed now at the genial cook's greeting, and took out his harmonica, running over the full scale as a suitable answer. ”

“ Thomas Cathcart Blake was fond of Mrs. John Stuyvesant Schuyler; and even as Tom Blake, the son of the one, was fond of Jack Schuyler, the son of the other. Blake, the elder, was a man rotund of figure, ruddy of complexion, great of heart. He laughed much; for he enjoyed much. He gave away much more than he could make; and he laughed about it. His wife laughed with him. And really it made no difference; for they had more for themselves than they could ever use. Of course, you know, it is true that many people have more than they can ever use; but few ever think so. ”

“ The bandit faced him, and threw his cigarette over his shoulder in the chimney-place. "Do I look like a joker?"
"You sit there, like that, and talk of killing me in cold blood?"
Lopez took him in through half-closed lids. "I do not like you. Nobody like you. Alive, you are no good. Dead, you make two people which I love 'appy. You get me, Señor Wall Street?"
"Oh, I see," cried Pell, wildly, and doing his best to keep his legs from giving way, "you would kill me so that my wife can marry this Gilbert Jones?" ”