by Gordon Young and Jack Holt

Biographical details

by Gordon Young and Jack Holt The Greaser (1918)

Louise had taken the baby. The sickly little tired thing had cried itself into exhaustion, and the side of its tender face and body was red and black from the fall. Some one brought a chair for the mother who was weeping on the shoulder of a kneeling girl—a girl whose shoulders were bare, and whose lips and cheeks were covered with paint—that held Mrs. Thomas' head and tried with phrases that came strangely in her hoarse, coarse voice to comfort the stricken woman.
In seconds rather than minutes the dance-hall was emptied of men. José, the bartender and Charles remained.
Source: Wikisource

by Gordon Young and Jack Holt The Greaser (1918)

Louise gave a glance toward the doorway: a dead man with a handkerchief thrown over his face lay on the table.
She did not stay to listen or explain, but snatched the knife and ran, leaped from the door, cut the rope with one stroke of the sharp steel, climbed into the saddle and rode as though fleeing from terror.
Source: Wikisource

by Gordon Young and Jack Holt The Greaser (1918)

When one stays up all night there is little inclination for the saddle the next day.
Louise had time and again asked José not to play cards with her brother. Louise did not know it, but Charles falsely attributed all of his losses at cards to the Mexican—though he did lose, and often all he had, every time he played with José, for the gambler knew from whence Charles got most of his money. A queer thing, too: José never seemed to have any luck if he sat in a game where Louise chanced to be playing—but she, she had to make a pocketbook of her skirt to carry home the winnings.
Source: Wikisource

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