Produced by Roger Frank and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
Like some land of Heart's Desire (see page 22).]
DESERT DUST
By
EDWIN L. SABIN
Author of "How Are You Feeling Now?" etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
J. CLINTON SHEPHERD
QUINON PROFICIT DEFICIT]
PHILADELPHIA
GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1921, byFrank A. Munsey Company
Copyright, 1922, byGeorge W. Jacobs & Company
All rights reservedPrinted in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I. A Pair of Blue Eyes 9 II. To Better Acquaintance 22 III. I Rise in Favor 36 IV. I Meet Friends 54 V. On Grand Tour 72 VI. "High and Dry" 88 VII. I Go to Rendezvous 102 VIII. I Stake on the Queen 118 IX. I Accept an Offer 131 X. I Cut Loose 145 XI. We Get a "Super" 162 XII. Daniel Takes Possession 181 XIII. Someone Fears 197 XIV. I Take a Lesson 205 XV. The Trail Narrows 223 XVI. I Do the Deed 240 XVII. The Trail Forks 252 XVIII. Voices in the Void 261 XIX. I Stake Again 272 XX. The Queen Wins 286 XXI. We Wait the Summons 300 XXII. Star Shine 314
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGELike some land of Heart's Desire (see page 22). Frontispiece"Madam," I Uttered Foolishly, "Good Evening." 85The Scouts Galloped Onward 280
DESERT DUST
CHAPTER I
A PAIR OF BLUE EYES
In the estimate of the affable brakeman (a gentleman wearing sky-blue armypantaloons tucked into cowhide boots, half-buttoned vest, flannel shirtopen at the throat, and upon his red hair a flaring-brimmed black slouchhat) we were making a fair average of twenty miles an hour across thegreatest country on earth. It was a flat country of far horizons, and forvast stretches peopled mainly, as one might judge from the car windows, byantelope and the equally curious rodents styled prairie dogs.
Yet despite the novelty of such a ride into that unknown new West nowbeing spanned at giant's strides by the miraculous Pacific Railway, beholdme, surfeited with already five days' steady travel, engrossed chiefly inobserving a clear, dainty profile and waiting for the glimpses, time totime, of a pair of exquisite blue eyes.
Merely to indulge myself in feminine beauty, however, I need not haveundertaken the expense and fatigue of journeying from Albany on the Hudsonout to Omaha on the plains side of the Missouri River; thence by theUnion Pacific Railroad of the new transcontinental line into the Indiancountry. There were handsome women a-plenty in the East; and of access,also, to a youth of family and parts. I had pictures of the same in mysocial register. A man does not attain to twenty-five years without havingaccomplished a few pages of the heart book. Nevertheless all such pageswere--or had seemed to be--wholly retrospective now, for here I was,advised by the physicians to "go West," meaning by this not simply theone-time West of Ohio, or Illinois, or even Iowa, but the remote andgenuine West lying beyond the Missouri.
Whereupon, out of desperation that flung the gauntlet down to hope I hadtaken the bull by the horns in earnest. West should be full dose, at theutmost procurable by modern conveyance.
The Union Pacific announcements acclaimed that this summer of 1868 therails should cross the Black Hills Mountains of Wyoming to another rangeof the Rocky Mountains, in Utah; and that by the end of the year one mightride comfortably clear to Salt Lake City. Certainly this was "going West"with a vengeance; but as appeared to me--and to my father and mother andthe physicians--somewhere in the expanse of brand new Western country, theplains and mountains, I would find at least the breath of life.
When I arrived in Omaha the ticket agent was enabled to sell metransportation away to the town of Benton, Wyoming Territory itself, sixhundred and ninety miles (he said) west of the Missouri.
Of Benton I had never heard. It was upon no public maps, as yet. But inround figures, seven hundred miles! Practically the distance from Albanyto Cincinnati, and itself distant from Albany over two thousand miles! Allby rail.
Benton was, he explained, the present end of passenger service, thisAugust. In another month--and he laughed.
"Fact is, while you're standing here," he alleged, "I may get orders anymoment to sell a longer ticket. The Casements are laying two to threemiles of track a day, seven days in the week, and stepping right on theheels of the graders. Last April we were selling only to Cheyenne, risingof five hundred miles. Then in May we began to sell to Laramie, fivehundred and seventy-six miles. Last of July we began selling to Benton, ahundred and twenty miles farther. Track's now probably fifty or more mileswest of Benton and there's liable to be another passenger terminusto-morrow. So it might pay you to wait."
"No," I said. "Thank you, but I'll try Benton. I can go on from there as Ithink best. Could you recommend local accommodations?"
He stared, through the bars of the little window behind which lay asix-chambered revolver.
"Could I do what, sir?"
"Recommend a hotel, at Benton where I'm going. There is a hotel, Isuppose?"
"Good Lord!" he exclaimed testily. "In a city of three thousand people? Ahotel? A dozen of 'em, but I don't know their names. What do you expect tofind in Benton? You're from the East, I take it. Going out on spec', orpleasure, or health?"
"I have been advised to try Western air for a change," I answered. "I amlooking for some place that is high, and dry."
"Consumption, eh?" he shrewdly remarked. "High and dry; that's it. Oh,yes; you'll find Benton high enough, and toler'bly dry. You bet! Andnobody dies natural, at Benton, they say. Here's your ticket. Thank you.And the change. Next, please."
It did not take me long to gather the change remaining from seventydollars greenbacks swapped for six hundred and ninety miles of travel atten cents a mile. I hastily stepped aside. A subtle fragrance and a rustlewarned me that I was obstructing a representative of the fair sex. So didthe smirk and smile of the ticket agent.
"Your pardon, madam," I proffered, lifting my hat--agreeably dazzled whilethus performing.
She acknowledged the tribute with a faint blush. While pocketing my changeand stowing away my ticket I had opportunity to survey her further.
"Benton," she said briefly, to the agent.
We were bound for the same point, then. Ye gods, but she was a littlebeauty: a perfect blonde, of the petite and fully formed type, withregular features inclined to the clean-cut Grecian, a piquant mouthdeliciously bowed, two eyes of the deepest blue veiled by long lashes, anda mass of glinting golden hair upon which perched a ravishing littlebonnet. The natural ensemble was enhanced by her costume, all of black,from the closely fitting bodice to the rustling crinoline beneath whichthere peeped out tiny shoes. I had opportunity also to note the jetpendant in the shelly ear toward me, and the flashing rings upon thefingers of her hands, ungloved in order to sort out the money from herreticule.
Sooth to say, I might not stand there gawking. Once, by a demure sidewaysglance, she betrayed knowledge of my presence. Her own transaction was allmatter-of-fact, as if engaging passage to Benton of Wyoming Territorycontained no novelty for her. Could she by any chance live there--a womandressed like she was, as much a la mode as if she walked Broadway in NewYork? Omaha itself had astonished me with the display upon its streets;and now if Benton, far out in the wilderness, should prove anothersurprise----! Indeed, the Western world was not so raw, after all. Strangeto say, as soon as one crossed
the Missouri River one began to senseromance, and to discover it.
As seemed to me, the ticket agent would have detained her, in defiance ofthe waiting line; but she finished her business shortly, with shorterreplies to his idle remarks; and I turned away under pretense of examiningsome placards upon the wall advertising "Platte Valley lands" for sale. Ihad curiosity to see which way she wended. Then as she tripped for thedoor, casting eyes never right nor left, and still fumbling at herreticule, a coin slipped from her fingers and rolled, by good fortune,across the floor.
I was after it instantly; caught it, and with best bow presented it.
"Permit me, madam."
She took it.
"Thank you, sir."
For a moment she paused to restore it to its company; and I grasped theoccasion.
"I beg your pardon. You are going to Benton, of Wyoming Territory?"
Her eyes met mine so completely as well-nigh to daze me with their glory.There was a quizzical uplift in her frank, arch smile.
"I am, sir. To Benton City, of Wyoming Territory."
"You are acquainted there?" I ventured.
"Yes, sir. I am acquainted there. And you are from Benton?"
"Oh, no," I assured. "I am from New York State." As if anybody might nothave known. "But I have just purchased my ticket to Benton, and----" Istammered, "I have made bold to wonder if you would not have the goodnessto tell me something of the place--as to accommodations, and all that. Youdon't by any chance happen to live there, do you?"
"And why not, sir, may I ask?" she challenged.
I floundered before her query direct, and her bewildering eyes andlips--all tantalizing.
"I didn't know--I had no idea--Wyoming Territory has been mentioned in thenewspapers as largely Indian country----"
"At Benton we are only six days behind New York fashions," she smiled."You have not been out over the railroad, then, I suspect. Not to NorthPlatte? Nor to Cheyenne?"
"I have never been west of Cincinnati before."
"You have surely been reading of the railroad? The Pacific Railway betweenthe East and California?"
"Yes, indeed. In fact, a friend of mine, named Stephen Clark, nephew ofthe Honorable Thurlow Weed formerly of Albany, was killed a year ago byyour Indians while surveying west of the Black Hills. And of course therehave been accounts in the New York papers."
"You are not on survey service? Or possibly, yes?"
"No, madam."
"A pleasure trip to end of track?"
She evidently was curious, but I was getting accustomed to questions intoprivate matters. That was the universal license, out here.
"The pleasure of finding health," I laughed. "I have been advised to seeka location high and dry."
"Oh!" She dimpled adorably. "I congratulate you on your choice. You willmake no mistake, then, in trying Benton. I can promise you that it is highand reasonably dry. And as for accommodations--so far as I have ever heardanybody is accommodated there with whatever he may wish." She darted aglance at me; stepped aside as if to leave.
"I am to understand that it is a city?" I pleaded.
"Benton? Why, certainly. All the world is flowing to Benton. We gainedthree thousand people in two weeks--much to the sorrow of poor oldCheyenne and Laramie. No doubt there are five thousand people there now,and all busy. Yes, a young man will find his opportunities in Benton. Ithink your choice will please you. Money is plentiful, and so are thechances to spend it." She bestowed upon me another sparkling glance. "Andsince we are both going to Benton I will say 'Au revoir,' sir." She leftme quivering.
"You do live there?" I besought, after; and received a nod of the goldenhead as she entered the sacred Ladies' Waiting Room.
Until the train should be made up I might only stroll, restless andstrangely buoyed, with that vision of an entrancing fellow travelerfilling my eyes. Summoned in due time by the clamor "Passengers for thePacific Railway! All aboard, going west on the Union Pacific!" here amidstthe platform hurly-burly of men, women, children and bundles I had thesatisfaction to sight the black-clad figure of My Lady of the Blue Eyes;hastening, like the rest, but not unattended--for a brakeman bore hervalise and the conductor her parasol. The scurrying crowd gallantly partedbefore her. It as promptly closed upon her wake; try as I might I wasutterly unable to keep in her course.
Obviously, the train was to be well occupied. Carried on willy-nilly Imounted the first steps at hand; elbowed on down the aisle until I managedto squirm aside into a vacant seat. The remaining half was at onceeffectually filled by a large, stout, red-faced woman who formed the baseof a pyramid of boxes and parcels.
My neighbor, who blocked all egress, was going to North Platte, threehundred miles westward, I speedily found out. And she almost as speedilylearned that I was going to Benton.
She stared, round-eyed.
"I reckon you're a gambler, young man," she accused.
"No, madam. Do I look like a gambler?"
"You can't tell by looks, young man," she asserted, still suspicious,"Maybe you're on spec', then, in some other way."
"I am seeking health in the West, is all, where the climate is high anddry."
"My Gawd!" she blurted. "High and dry! You're goin' to the right place.For all I hear tell, Benton is high enough and dry enough. Are youreye-teeth peeled, young man?"
"My eye-teeth?" I repeated. "I hope so, madam. Are eye-teeth necessary inBenton?"
"Peeled, and with hair on 'em, young man," she assured. "I guess you're apilgrim, ain't you? I see a leetle green in your eye. No, you ain't atin-horn. You're some mother's boy, jest gettin' away from the trough. Mysakes! Sick, too, eh? Weak lungs, ain't it? Now you tell me: Why you goin'to Benton?"
There was an inviting kindness in her query. Plainly she had a good heart,large in proportion with her other bulk.
"It's the farthest point west that I can reach by railroad, and everybodyI have talked with has recommended it as high and dry."
"So it is," she nodded; and chuckled fatly. "But laws sakes, you don'tneed to go that fur. You can as well stop off at North Platte, or Sidneyor Cheyenne. They'll sculp you sure at Benton, unless you watch out mightysharp."
"How so, may I ask?"
"You're certainly green," she apprised. "Benton's roarin'--and I know whatthat means. Didn't North Platte roar? I seen it at its beginnin's. My oldman and me, we were there from the fust, when it started in as therailroad terminal. My sakes, but them were times! What with the gamblin'and the shootin' and the drinkin' and the high-cockalorums night and day,'twasn't no place for innocence. Easy come, easy go, that was the word. Idon't say but what times were good, though. My old man contractedgovernment freight, and I run an eatin' house for the railroaders, so wemade money. Then when the railroad moved terminus, the wust of the crowdmoved, too, and us others who stayed turned North Platte into a strictlymoral town. But land sakes! North Platte in its roarin' days wasn't noplace for a young man like you. Neither was Julesburg, or Sidney, orCheyenne, when they was terminuses. And I hear tell Benton is wuss'n allrolled into one. Young man, now listen: You stop off at North Platte,Nebrasky. It's healthy and it's moral, and it's goin' to make Omyha looklike a shinplaster. I'll watch after you. Maybe I can get you a job in myman's store. You've j'ined some church, I reckon? Now if you're aBaptist----?"
But since I had crossed the Missouri something had entered into my bloodwhich rendered me obstinate against such allurements. For her NorthPlatte, "strictly moral," and the guardianship of her broad motherly wingI had no ardent feeling. I was set upon Benton; foolishly, fatuously set.And in after days--soon to arrive--I bitterly regretted that I had notyielded to her wholesome, honest counsel.
Nevertheless this was true, at present:
"But I have already purchased my ticket to Benton," I objected. "Iunderstand that I shall find the proper climate there, and suitableaccommodations. And if I don't like it I can move elsewhere. Possibly toSalt Lake City, or Denver."
She snorted.
"In among the
m Mormons? My Gawd, young man! Where they live inconkibinage--several women to one man, like a buffler herd or other beastsof the field? I guess your mother never heard you talk like that.Denver--well, Denver mightn't be bad, though I do hear tell that folksnigh starve to death there, what with the Injuns and the snow. Denverain't on no railroad, either. If you want health, and to grow up with astrictly moral community, you throw in with North Platte of Nebrasky, thegreat and growin' city of the Plains. I reckon you've heard of NorthPlatte, even where you come from. You take my word for it, and exchangeyour ticket."
It struck me here that the good woman might not be unbiased in herfondness for North Platte. To extol the present and future of theseWestern towns seemed a fixed habit. During my brief stay in Omaha--yes, onthe way across Illinois and Iowa from Chicago, I had encountered thispeculiar trait. Iowa was rife with aspiring if embryonic metropolises. Nowin Nebraska, Columbus was destined to be the new national capital and thecenter of population for the United States; Fremont was lauded as one ofthe great railroad junctions of the world; and North Platte, three hundredmiles out into the plains, was proclaimed as the rival of Omaha, and"strictly moral."
"I thank you," I replied. "But since I've started for Benton I think I'llgo on. And if I don't like it or it doesn't agree with me you may see mein North Platte after all."
She grunted.
"You can find me at the Bon Ton restaurant. If you get in broke, I'll takecare of you."
With that she settled herself comfortably. In remarkably short order shewas asleep and snoring.
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