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The Fifth Ace By: Isabel Ostrander (1883-1924) |
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by DOUGLAS GRANT Frontispiece by George W. Gage [Frontispiece: "Peach of a town," he repeated with added conviction] Grosset & Dunlap
Publishers
New York Copyright, 1918, by
W. J. Watt & Company
CONTENTS CHAPTER I. GENTLEMAN GEOFF'S BILLIE
II. A SUPERFLUOUS KNIGHT ERRANT
III. THE COMING OF EL NEGRITO
IV. GENTLEMAN GEOFF PASSES THE DEAL
V. A GRINGO CINDERELLA
VI. TIA JUANA'S CAULDRON COOLS
VII. ALIEN KIN
VIII. WILLA SITS IN
IX. BIRDS OF A FEATHER
X. AN ACE IN THE HOLE
XI. A CHANGE OF FRONT
XII. COALS OF FIRE
XIII. THE CHALLENGE
XIV. THE KNIGHT ERRANT ONCE MORE
XV. GONE
XVI. THE POOL OF THE LOST SOULS
XVII. ANGIE SCORES
XVIII. MIDNIGHT FOR CINDERELLA
XIX. THE VENDER OF TOMALES
XX. WINNIE MASON STANDS BY
XXI. THE RETURN OF TIA JUANA
XXII. WHERE TRAILS MEET
XXIII. THE SLIPPER OF CINDERELLA
XXIV. THE LOST SOULS' TREASURE
XXV. INTO HER OWN
THE FIFTH ACE
CHAPTER I GENTLEMAN GEOFF'S BILLIE Kearn Thode mounted his pinto and rode out of the courtyard of the
Baggott Hotel and down the Calle Rivera under a seething tropic sun.
Limasito's principal street was well nigh deserted in the lethargy of
the noon day siesta, but the flower market was a riotous blaze of color
in the glistening white plaza, from which radiated broad vistas of
fantastically painted adobe and soberer concrete, ending in a soft
green blur. The young petroleum engineer had pictured a ten year old boom town in
the Mexican oil belt as a wilderness of rough shacks and board
sidewalks, with possibly a dancehall or two and an open air movie as
the only attractions, and the thriving little city had proved a welcome
surprise. "Limasito," he mused. "That means 'Little Lemon.' Wonder who tacked
that name to this burg? Peach of a town, I call it." A long, low adobe house, tinted a screaming blue which rivaled the
skies, faced the southern end of the plaza, covering nearly an entire
block. As Thode jogged past, a door in the side wall opened, and a
girl appeared. She was tall with a lithe slenderness that betokened
well poised strength rather than fragility. Masses of sloe black hair
waved beneath the broad brim of her sombrero, but her skin was
unbelievably fair and the eyes she lifted to his in frank scrutiny were
the deep blue of a wood violet. The young man caught his breath as she turned and started across the
plaza, walking with long, free, swinging strides. "Peach of a town," he repeated, with added conviction. "All to the
good!" The Calle Rivera dwindled into a dusty, white, winding road,
straggling, flower choked gardens replaced the city blocks and gave way
in turn to haciendas whose flat fertile acres teemed with the luscious
harvest. The pinto covered the ground at an easy lope which ate up the
miles, and Thode sat his high Mexican saddle, as easy as a
rocking chair, scanning each turn of the road for landmarks. The sun was well upon its western course when he reined in at a low
stout gateway. A peon, lazily hoeing in the ditch, straightened his
bent back and eyed the stranger in mild curiosity. "This Hallock's ranch?" Thode asked, laconically. The peon nodded and waved a brown hand toward the house half hidden
among the trees. "Señor Hallo', si, Señor." The engineer wheeled and cantered up the winding driveway, with the
serried rows of grapefruit trees spreading out endlessly on either side
of the little rising where the square white ranch house squatted, its
broad wings outstretched like those of a brooding hen. In the shade of a mahogany tree, an excessively fat, excessively bald
person sprawled in a low chair by a rustic table, alternately sipping
from the tall glass at his elbow and mopping his ruddy glabrous brow
with a vivid bandanna. He rose to his short legs as Thode swung himself from the saddle and
advanced. "Mr. Hallock?" "That's me, Stranger. Howdy!" He held out a pudgy hand, and noting
the fresh coat of sunburn on his visitor, he added: "Just come over the
border?" "Further than that, Sir; from New York... Continue reading book >>
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Literature |
Mystery |
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