First Page:
THE MESA TRAIL
BY
H. BEDFORD JONESGARDEN CITY NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1920
COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF
TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES,
INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN
COPYRIGHT, 1919,
BY STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN
CHAPTER II THADY SHEA ENCOUNTERS PURPOSE
CHAPTER III CORAVEL TIO ENJOYS A BUSY MORNING
CHAPTER IV MRS. CRUMP HEADS SOUTHWEST
CHAPTER V THE AMBITION OF MACKINTAVERS
CHAPTER VI THADY SHEA SMELLS WHISKEY
CHAPTER VII THADY SHEA HAS A VISITOR
CHAPTER VIII DORALES GOES TO TOWN
CHAPTER IX THE WICKER DEMIJOHN
CHAPTER X MRS. CRUMP SAYS SOMETHING
CHAPTER XI THADY SHEA DISCOVERS A PURPOSE
CHAPTER XII THE STONE GODS VANISH
CHAPTER XIII THADY SHEA STARTS HOME
CHAPTER XIV DORALES KILLS
CHAPTER XV MACKINTAVERS MAKES FRIENDS
CHAPTER XVI DORALES POSTS NOTICES
CHAPTER XVII DORALES RUNS AWAY
CHAPTER I THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN
A ribbon of winding road leads northeast from the pueblo of Domingo and
the snaky Bajada hill where gray rocks lie thickly; it is a yellowish
ribbon of road, sweeping over the gigantic mesa toward Santa Fé and the
sweetly glowing Blood of Christ peaks great peaks of green spearing
into the sky, white crested, and tipped with blood at sunset.
Along this ribbon of dusty yellow road was crawling a flivver. It was
crawling slowly, in a jerky series of advances and pauses; as it crept
along its intermittent course, the woman who sat behind the wheel was
cursing her iron steed in a thorough and heartfelt manner.
Both in flivver and woman was that which fired curious interest. The
rear of the car was piled high with boxes and luggage; certain of the
boxes were marked "Explosives Handle With Care!" Prominent among this
freight was a burlap sack tied about the neck and firmly roped to one of
the top supports of the car.
The woman was garbed in ragged but neat khaki. From beneath the edges of
an old fashioned bonnet, tied beneath the chin, protruded wisps of
grayish hair, like an aureole of silver. The woman herself was of
strikingly large frame and great in girth; her arms, bare to the elbows,
were huge in size. Yet this giantess was not unhealthily fat. Hardened
by toil, her hands were gripped carefully upon the steering wheel as
though she were in some fear of wrenching it asunder in an unguarded
moment.
Her features were large, sun darkened, creased and seamed with
crow's feet that betokened long exposure to wind and weather. Ever and
anon she drew, with manifest enjoyment, at an old brown corncob pipe.
Above her firm lips and beak like nose a pair of blue eyes struck out
gaily and keenly at the world; eyes of a piercing, intense blue, whose
brilliancy, as of living jewels, gave the lie to their surrounding
tokens of toil and age.
"Drat it!" she burst forth, after a new bucking endeavour on the part of
the car. "If I was to shoot this damned thing through the innards, maybe
she'd quit sunfishin' on me! I'm goin' to sell her to Santy Fé sure's
shooting; I'll get me a pair o' mules and a wagon, then I'll know what
I'm doing. Dunno how come I ever was roped into buying this here
contraption "
She suddenly halted her observations. Laying aside her pipe and peering
out from the side of the dusty windshield, her keen eyes narrowed upon
the road ahead.
Against that yellowish ribbon, with its bordering emptiness of mesquite,
greasewood, and sage, there was nothing moving; but squarely in the
centre of the road showed up a dark, motionless blotch. It was the
figure of a man lying as though asleep. No man would or could lie asleep
in the middle of this road, however, under the withering blaze of the
downpouring New Mexico sun.
Suddenly the fitful flivver coughed under more gas; it roared, bucked,
darted ahead, bucked again, and a dozen yards from the prostrate man it
went leaping forward as though impelled by vindictive spite to run over
the motionless figure... Continue reading book >>
