The Man from the Bitter Roots   By: Caroline Lockhart (1870-1962)

by

Caroline Lockhart

Author of "The Fighting Shepherdess," "The Lady Doc," etc.

[Illustration: "You've got to tell the truth before she stops! Why did you burn out this plant?"]

[Illustration]

Frontispiece by Gayle Hoskins

A. L. Burt Company Publishers New York

Published by arrangement with J. B. Lippincott Company

Copyright, 1915, by Street & Smith Copyright, 1915, by J. B. Lippincott Company Published October, 1915

Printed By J. B. Lippincott Company at the Washington Square Press Philadelphia, U. S. A.

To MY GOOD FRIEND MRS. LOUIS HOWE THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED WITH ALL GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. Before He Grew Up 11 II. "Pardners" 20 III. The Game Butchers 32 IV. Self Defence 39 V. The Jack Pot 54 VI. The Returned Hero 73 VII. Sprudell Goes East 78 VIII. Uncle Bill Finds News in the "Try Bune" 89 IX. The Yellow Leg 103 X. "Capital Takes Holt" 119 XI. The Ghost at the Banquet 128 XII. Thorns and a Few Roses 140 XIII. "Off His Range" 147 XIV. His Only Asset 157 XV. Millions! 169 XVI. "Slim's Sister" 182 XVII. A Practical Man 202 XVIII. Prophets of Evil 214 XIX. At the Big Mallard 221 XX. "The Forlorn Hope" 231 XXI. Toy 237 XXII. The General Manager 244 XXIII. "Good Enough" 252 XXIV. The Midnight Visitor 260 XXV. The Clean Up 269 XXVI. Failure 288 XXVII. Uncle Bill Is Ostracized 301 XXVIII. "Annie's Boy" 314

THE MAN FROM THE BITTER ROOTS

I.

BEFORE HE GREW UP.

The little white "digger," galloping with the stiff, short legged jumps of the broken down cow pony, stopped short as the boy riding him pulled sharply on the reins, and after looking hard at something which lay in a bare spot in the grass, slid from its fat back.

He picked up the rock which had attracted his eye, and turned it over and over in his hand. His pockets bulged with colored pebbles and odd looking stones he had found in washouts and ravines. There was no great variety on the Iowa prairie, and he thought he knew them all, but he had never seen a rock like this.

He crossed his bare, tanned legs, and sat down to examine it more closely, while the lazy cow pony immediately went to sleep. The stone was heavy and black, with a pitted surface as polished as though some one had laboriously rubbed it smooth. Where did it come from? How did it get there? Involuntarily he looked up at the sky. Perhaps God had thrown it down to surprise him to make him wonder. He smiled a little. God was a very real person to Bruce Burt. He had a notion that He kept close watch upon his movements through a large crack somewhere in the sky.