The girl of the golden west

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TheProjectGutenbergEBookofTheGirloftheGoldenWest,byDavidBelasco ThiseBookisfortheuseofanyoneanywhereatnocostandwith almostnorestrictionswhatsoever Youmaycopyit,giveitawayor re-useitunderthetermsoftheProjectGutenbergLicenseincluded withthiseBookoronlineatwww.gutenberg.org/license Title:TheGirloftheGoldenWest Author:DavidBelasco Illustrator:J.N Marchand ReleaseDate:February1,2019[EBook#58800] Language:English ***STARTOFTHISPROJECTGUTENBERGEBOOKTHEGIRLOFTHEGOLDENWEST*** ProducedbyChuckGreifandtheOnlineDistributed ProofreadingTeamathttp://www.pgdp.net(Thisfilewas producedfromimagesavailableatTheInternetArchive) Contents:I,II,III,IV,V,VI,VII,VIII,IX,X,XI,XII,XIII,XIV,XV,XVI, XVII,XVIII Afewminortypographicalerrorshavebeencorrected; (etexttranscriber'snote) [Imageunavailable.] “Mr Johnson,comedown” TheGirlofthe Golden West NOVELIZEDFROMTHEPLAY BY DAVIDBELASCO WITHILLUSTRATIONSBY J N MARCHAND GROSSET&DUNLAP PUBLISHERS :: NEWYORK Copyright,1911, BYDODD,MEAD&CO Allrightsreserved Published,October,1911 “INthosestrangedays,peoplecomingfromGodknowswhere,joinedforcesin thatfarWesternland,and,accordingtotherudecustomofthecamp,theirvery names were soon lost and unrecorded, and here they struggled, laughed, gambled,cursed,killed,lovedandworkedouttheirstrangedestiniesinamanner incredibletousofto-day Ofonethingonlyarewesure—theylived!” EarlyHistoryofCalifornia I ITwaswhencomingbacktothemines,afteratriptoMonterey,thattheGirlfirst met him It happened, too, just at a time when her mind was ripe to receive a lastingimpression ButofallthistheboysofCloudyMountainCampheardnot aword,needlesstosay,untillongafterwards Lolling back on the rear seat of the stage, her eyes half closed,—the sole passenger now, and with the seat in front piled high with boxes and baskets containingrebozos,silkensouvenirs,andotherfinerypurchasedintheshopsof theoldtown,—theGirlwasmentallyreviewinganddreamingofthedelightsof her week’s visit there,—a visit that had been a revelation to one whose sole experienceoftheworldhaduntilnowbeenderivedfromlifeinaroughmining camp Before her half-closed eyes still shimmered a vista of strange, exotic scenes and people, the thronging crowds of carnivals and fêtes; the Mexican girlsswayingthroughthemovementsofthefandangotothemusicofguitarsand castanets;thegreatrodeowithitshundredsofvaqueros,whichwasheldatone of the ranchos just outside the town; and, lastly, and most vividly of all, the never-to-be-forgottenthrillofherfirstbull-fight Still ringing in her ears was the piercing note of the bugle which instantly silenced the expectant throng; the hoarse roar that greeted the entrance of the bull,andthethunderofhishoofswhenhemadehisfirstmadcharge Shesaw again,withmarvellousfidelity,thewholecolour-schemejustbeforethedeathof thebig,bravebeast:thehugearenainitsunrivalledsettingofmountain,seaand sky;theeagermultitude,tensewithexpectancy;thesilver-mountedbridlesand trappingsofthehorses;themany-huedcapesofthecapadors;thegaily-dressed banderilleros, poising their beribboned barbs; the red flag and long, slender, flashingswordofthecoolandeverwatchfulmatador;and,mostprominentof alltohereyes,thebrilliant,gold-lacedpacketsofthegentlemen-picadors,who, aftertheMexicanfashion,—soshehadbeentold,—deemeditinnowisebeneath themtoenterthearenainperson And so it happened that now, as the stage swung round a corner, and a horseman suddenly appeared at a point where two roads converged, and was evidentlyspurringhishorsewiththeintentofcomingupwiththestage,itwas onlynaturalthat,evenbeforehewasnearenoughtobeidentified,thecaballero shouldalreadyhavebecomeapartofthepageantofhermentalpicture Up to the moment of the stranger’s appearance, nothing had happened to breakthemonotonyofherlongreturnjourneytowardsCloudyMountainCamp FarbackinthedistancenowlaytheMissionwherethepassengersofthestage hadbeenhospitablyentertainedthenightbefore;stillfurtherbackthered-tiled roofsandwhitewashedwallsofthelittlepuebloofSanJose,—averitablebower ofroses;andremotestofall,thecrossesofSanCarlosandthegreatpines,oaks and cypresses, which bordered her dream-memory of the white-beach crescent formedbythewavesofMontereyBay The dawn of each day that swept her further from her week in wonderland had ushered in the matchless spring weather of California,—the brilliant sunshine,thefleecyclouds,thegentlewindwithjustatanginitfromthedistant mountains; and as the stage rolled slowly northward through beautiful valleys, brightwithyellowpoppiesandsilver-whitelupines,everyturnoftheroadvaried herviewofthehillslyingunderanenchantmentunlikethatofanyotherland Yet strange and full of interest as every mile of the river country should have beentoagirlaccustomedtothegreatforestoftheSierras,shehadgazeduponit for the most part with unseeing eyes, while her thoughts turned, magnet-like, backwardtothedelightsandthebewildermentoftheoldMexicantown Sonow, as the pursuing horseman swept rapidly nearer, each swinging stride of the powerful horse, each rhythmic movement of the graceful rider brought nearer and more vivid the vision of a handsomepicador holding off with his lance a thoroughlymaddenedbulluntilthecrowdroaredforthitsappreciation “See, Señorita,” said the horseman, at last galloping close to the coach and liftinghissombrero,“Abeautifulbunchofsyringa,”andthen,withhisfacebent towardsherandhisvoicefullofappeal,headdedinlowertone:“foryou!” For a brief second, the Girl was too much taken back to find the adequate wordswithwhichtoacceptthestranger’soffering Notwithstandingthatinhis glanceshecouldread,asplainlyasthoughhehadspoken:“IknowIamtakinga liberty,butpleasedon’tbeangrywithme,”therewassomethinginhissweeping bow and grace of manner that, coupled with her vague sense of his social advantage, disconcerted her A second more, however, and the embarrassment hadpassed,foronliftinghereyestohisagainshesawthathermemoryhadnot playedherfalse;beyondallchanceofamistake,hewasthemanwho,tendays earlier,hadpeeredintothestage,asshewasnearingMonterey,andlater,atthe bull-fight, had found time to shoot admiring glances at her between his daring feats of horsemanship Therefore, genuine admiration was in her eyes and extremecordialityinhervoicewhen,afterawordortwoofthanks,sheadded, withgreatfrankness: “But it strikes me sort o’ forcible that I’ve seen you before.” Then, with growingenthusiasm:“My,butthatbull-fightwasjestgrand!Youwerefine!I’m rightgladtoknowyou,sir.” Thecaballero’s face flushed with pleasure at her free-and-easy reception of him, while an almost inaudible “Gracias” fell from his lips At once he knew thathisfirstsurmise,thattheGirlwasanAmerican,hadbeencorrect Notthat hisexperienceinlifehadfurnishedhimwithanyparallel,fortheGirlconstituted anewanduniquetype ButhewaswellawarethatnoSpanishladywouldhave receivedtheadvancesofastrangerinlikefashion Itwasinevitable,therefore, that for the moment he should contrast, and not wholly to her advantage, the Girl’sunconventionalitywiththeenforcedreserveofthedulcineaswho,custom decrees,maynotbecourtedsaveinthepresenceofduennas Butthenextinstant he recalled that there were, in Sacramento, young women whose directness it wouldneverdotomistakeforboldness;and,—tohiscreditbeitsaid,—hewas quick to perceive that, however indifferent the Girl seemed to the customary formality of introduction, there was no suggestion of indelicacy about her All that her frank and easy manner suggested was that she was a child of nature, spontaneous and untrammelled by the dictates of society, and normally and healthilyathomeinthecompanyoftheoppositesex “AndsheisevenmorebeautifulthanIsupposed,”wasthethoughtthatwent throughhismind And yet, the Girl was not beautiful, at least if judged by Spanish or Californian standards Unlike most of their women, she was fair, and her type purely American Her eyes of blue were lightly but clearly browed and abundantly fringed; her hair of burnished gold was luxuriant and wavy, and framedafaceofsingularlyfrankandhappyexpression,eventhoughthefeatures lackedregularity Butitwasaface,sohetoldhimself,thatanymanwouldtrust, —a face that would make a man the better for looking at it,—a face which reflected a soul that no environment could make other than pure and spotless Andsotherewas,perhaps,ashademoreofrespectandalittlelessassurancein hismannerwhenheasked: “AndyoulikeMonterey?” “I love it! Ain’t it romantic—an’, my, what a fine time the girls there must have!” Themanlaughed;theGirl’senthusiasmamusedhim “Haveyouhadafinetripsofar?”heasked,forwantofsomethingbetterto say “Mercy, yes! This ’ere stage is a pokey ol’ thing, but we’ve made not bad time,considerin’.” “Ithoughtyouwerenevergoingtogethere!” TheGirlshotacoquettishglanceathim “HowdidyouknowIwascomin’onthis’erestage?” “I did not know,”—the stranger broke off and thought a moment He may havebeenaskinghimselfwhetheritwerebestforhimtobeasfrankasshehad beenandadmithisadmirationforher;atlast,encouragedperhapsbyalookin theGirl’sblueeyes,heventured:“ButI’vebeenridingalongthisroadeveryday sinceIsawyou IfeltthatImustseeyouagain.” “Youmustlikemepowerfulwell ?”Thisremark,farfrombeingaquestion, wasaccompaniedwithallthephysiognomicalevidencesofanassertion Thestrangershotasurprisedglanceather,outofthecornerofhiseye Then headmitted,inalltruthfulness: “OfcourseIdo Whocouldhelp ?” “Have you tried not to?” questioned the Girl, smiling in his face now, and enjoyinginthefullthisstolenintimacy “Ah,Señorita,whyshouldI ?AllIknowisthatIdo.” TheGirlbecamereflective;presentlysheobserved: “Howfunnyitseems,an’yet,p’r’apsnotsostrangeafterall Theboys—all myboysatthecamplikeme—I’mgladyoudo,too.” Meanwhilethegood-naturedandloquaciously-inclineddriverhadturnedhis head and was subjecting the man cantering alongside of his stage to a rigid inspection WithhisknowledgeofthevarioustypesofmeninCaliforniaatthat time, he had no difficulty in placing the status of this straight-limbed, broadshouldered, young fellow as a native Californian Moreover, it made no differencetohimwhetherhispassengerhadmetanoldacquaintanceornot;it was sufficient for him to observe that the lady, as well as himself—for the expressiononherfacecouldbynomeansbedescribedasboredorscornful— likedthestranger’sappearance;andsothebettertotakeinallthepointsofthe magnificent horse which the young Californian was riding, not to mention a commendabledesiretogivehisonlypassengerabitofpleasantdiversiononthe longjourney,heslowedhishorsedowntoawalk “But where you live? You have a rancho near here?” the Girl was now asking “Myfatherhas—Ilivewithhim.” “Anysisters?” “No,—no sisters or brothers My mother was an American; she died a few yearsago.”Andsosaying,hisglancesoughtandobtainedanansweringonefull ofsympathy “I’mdownrightsorryforyou,”saidtheGirlwithfeeling;andtheninthenext breathsheadded:“ButI’mpleasedyou’re—you’rehalfAmerican.” “Andyou,Señorita?” “I’m an orphan—my family are all dead,” replied the Girl in a low voice “ButIhavemyboys,”shewentonmorecheerfully,“an’whatmoredoIneed?” Andthenbeforehehadtimetoaskhertoexplainwhatshemeantbytheboys, shecriedout:“Oh,jestlookatthemwonderfulberriesoveryonder!La,howI wishIcouldpick’em!” “Perhapsyoumay,”thestrangerhastenedtosay,andinstantlywithhisfree handhemadeamovementtoassisthertoalight,whilewiththeotherhechecked hishorse;then,withhiseyesrestingappealinglyuponthedriver,heinquired:“It ispossible,isitnot,Señor?” Curiously enough, this apparently proper request was responsible for changingthewholeaspectofthings For,keenlydesiroustoobligehim,though shewas,therewassomethinginthestranger’seyesastheynowresteduponher that made her feel suddenly shy; a flood of new impressions assailed her: she wanted to evade the look and yet foster it; but the former impulse was the stronger, and for the first time she was conscious of a growing feeling of restraint Indeed, some inner voice told her that it would not be quite right for hertoleavethestage True,shebelongedtoCloudyMountainCampwherethe conventions were unknown and where a rough, if kind, comradery existed between the miners and herself; nevertheless, she felt that she had gone far enough with a new acquaintance, whose accent, as well as the timbre of his voice,gaveampleevidencethathebelongedtoanotherorderofsocietythanher ownandthatoftheboys So,hardthoughitwasnottoaccedetohisrequestand, at the same time, break the monotony of her journey with a few minutes of berry-picking with him in the fields, she made no move to leave the stage but answered the questioning look of the obliging driver with a negative one Whereupon,thelatter,afterdeclaringtotheyoungCalifornianthatthestagewas late as it was, called to his horses to show what they could in the way of gettingoverthegroundaftertheirlongrest Theyoungman’sfacecloudedwithdisappointment Fortwohundredyards or more he spoke not a word, though he spurred his horse in order to keep up with the now fast-moving stage Then, all of a sudden, as the silence between themwasbeginningtogrowembarrassing,theGirlmadeoutthefigureofaman onhorsebackashortdistanceahead,andutteredanexclamationofsurprise The stranger followed the direction of the Girl’s eyes and, almost instantly, it was borneinuponthemthatthehorsemanawaitedtheircoming TheGirlturnedto speak,butthetender,sorrowfulexpressionthatshesawontheyoungman’sface kepthersilent “Thatisoneofmyfather’smen,”hesaid,somewhatsolemnly “Hispresence heremaymeanthatImustleaveyou Theroadtoourranchbeginsthere Ifear thatsomethingmaybewrong.” TheGirlshothimalookofsympatheticinquiry,thoughshesaidnothing To tell the truth, the first thought that entered her mind at his words was one of concernthattheircompanionshipwaslikelytoceaseabruptly Duringthesilence thatprecededhisoutspokenpremonitionoftrouble,shehadbeenstudyinghim closely Shefoundherselfadmiringhisaquilinefeatures,hisolive-colouredskin with its healthful pallor, the lazy, black Spanish eyes behind which, however tranquiltheygenerallywere,itwaseasyforhertodiscern,whenhesmiled,that recklessandindomitablespiritwhichappealstowomenalltheworldover Asthestageapproachedthemotionlesshorseman,theyoungmancriedoutto thevaquero,forsuchhewas,andaskedinSpanishwhetherhehadamessagefor him;ananswercamebackinthesamelanguage,themeaningofwhichtheGirl failedtocomprehend Amomentlaterhercompanionturnedtoherandsaid: “ItisasIfeared.” Oncemoreasilencefelluponthem Forahalfmileorso,apparentlydeepin thought,hecontinuedtocanteratherside;atlasthespokewhatwasinhismind “Ihatetoleaveyou,Señorita,”hesaid InaninstantthelightwentoutoftheGirl’seyes,andherfacewasasserious ashisownwhenshereplied: “Well,IguessIain’tparticularlycrazytohaveyougoneither.” The unmistakable note of regret in the Girl’s voice flattered as well as encouragedhimtogofurtherandask: “Willyouthinkofmesometime?” TheGirllaughed “What’sthegoodo’mythinkin’o’you?Iseenyoutalkin’withthemgran’ Montereyladiesan’Iguessyouwon’tbethinkin’ofteno’me Like’snotbytomorrowyou’ll’avecleanforgotme,”shesaidwithforcedcarelessness “Ishallneverforgetyou,”declaredtheyoungmanwiththeintensefervour thatcomessoeasilytothemenofhisrace Atthatahalf-mistrustful,half-puzzledlookcrossedtheGirl’sface Wasthis handsomestrangerfindingheramusing?Therewasalmostaresentfulglitterin hereyeswhenshecriedout: “I’mos’thinkyou’remakin’funo’me!” “No, I mean every word that I say,” he hastened to assure her, looking straight into her eyes where he could scarcely have failed to read something whichtheGirlhadnotthesubtletytoconceal “Oh,IguessImadeyousaythat!”shereturned,makingachild-likeeffortto appeartodisbelievehim Thestrangercouldnotsuppressasmile;butthenextmomenthewasserious, andasked: “AndamInevergoingtoseeyouagain?Won’tyoutellmewhereIcanfind you?” Once more the Girl was conscious of a feeling of embarrassment Not that shewasatallashamedofbeing“TheGirlofThePolkaSaloon,”forthatnever entered her mind; but she suddenly realised that it was one thing to converse pleasantlywithayoungmanonthehighwayandanothertolethimcometoher homeonCloudyMountain Onlytoowellcouldsheimaginethecoolreception, ifitstoppedatthat,thattheboysofthecamptherewouldaccordtothisstylish stranger As a consequence, she was torn by conflicting emotions: an overwhelmingdesiretoseehimagain,andadreadofwhatmighthappentohim shouldhedescenduponCloudyMountainwithallhisfineairsandgraces “I guess I’m queer—” she began uncertainly and then stopped in sudden surprise Too long had she delayed her answer Already the stage had left him somedistancebehind Unperceivedbyherashadeofannoyancehadpassedover theCalifornian’sfaceatherseemingreluctancetotellhimwhereshelived The quickofhisSpanishpridewastouched;andwithawaveofhissombrerohehad pulledhishorsedownonhishaunches Ofnoavailnowwasherresolutiontolet him know the whereabouts of the camp at any cost, for already his “Adios, Señorita,”wassoundingfaintlyinherears Withalittlecryofvexation,scarcelyaudible,theyoungwomanflungherself backontheseat Shewasonlyagirlwithallagirl’sways,andlikemostofher sex, however practical her life thus far, she was not without dreams of a romance This meeting with the handsome caballero was the nearest she had cometohavingone True,therewasscarcelyamanatCloudybutwhathadtried atonetimeoranothertogobeyondthestageofgoodcomradeship;butnoneof themhadapproachedtheidealisticvisionoftheherothatwasallthetimelying youshan’t !” Oncemoreshestartedinpursuitofherlover,butonlytofallwithherface againstthedoor,sobbingasifherheartwouldbreak Outsidetherewasnothingintheenchantingscenetosuggestfinality Nature neverwasmoreprodigalofhermagicbeauties Thesunstillshoneonthewinter whiteness of the majestic mountains; the great arch of sky was still an azure blue;thewildthingsstillroamedthegreatforestatwill Lifeindeedwasverybeautiful MinutespassedandstilltheGirlwept Awonderfulthinghappenedthen—andassuddenlyasitwascharacteristicof these impulsive and tender-hearted men In thinking over their action long afterwardstheGirlrecalledhowforaninstantshecouldbelieveneitherherears nor hereyes WithSonora itwascredible,atleast;butwithRance—itseemed wonderfultoherevenwhenobservedthroughthevistaofmanyyears Andyet, menlikeRancemoreoftenthannotexhibittotheworldtheworstsideoftheir nature Itisonlywhensomecataclysmoffeelingburststhattheirinnersoulis disclosed and joyously viewed by eyes which have long been accustomed to judgingthemsolelyfromtheicyandimpenetrablereservewhichtheyinvariably wear And so it came about that Sonora—first of the two—went over to her and laidanaffectionatehanduponhershoulder “Why,Girl,”hesaid,allthekindlinessofhisgentlenaturefloodinghiseyes, “the boys an’ me ain’t perhaps realised jest what Johnson stood for you, an’ hearin’whatyousaid,an’seein’youprayin’overthecuss—” Rance’sfacelitupscornfully “The cuss?” he cut in, objecting to a term which is not infrequently used affectionately “Yes, the cuss,” repeated Sonora, all the vindictiveness gone from his heart now “IgotanideemaybeGod’sbackofthis’eregame.” The Girl’s heart was beating fast; she was hoping against hope when, a momentlater,sheasked: “You’renotgoin’topulltheropeon’im?” “You mean I set him free,” came from Rance, his tone softer, gentler than anyonehadhearditinsometime “You set ’im free?” repeated the Girl, timidly, and not daring to meet his gaze “Ilethimgo,”announcedtheSheriffinspiteofhimself “Youlet’imgo?”questionedtheGirl,stillinadaze “That’sourverdict,an’we’repreparedtobackitup,”declaredSonorawitha smileonhisweatheredface,thoughthetearsstreameddownhischeeks TheGirl’sfaceilluminedwithagreatjoy Shedidnotstopnowtodissipate thetearswhichshesawrollingdownSonora’sface,aswasherwontwhenany oftheboysweregrievedordistressed,butfairlyflew outofthecabin,calling half-frantically,half-ecstatically: “Dick!Dick!You’refree!You’refree!You’refree !” Theminutespassedandstilltheminersdidnotmove Theystoodwithanair ofsolemnitygazingsilentlyatoneanother Onlytoowelldidtheyrealisewhat washappeningtothem Theywereinconsolable Presently,Sonora,allinaheap on a bench, took out some tobacco and began to chew it as fast as his mouth wouldlethim;Happy,goingovertotheteacher’sdesk,pickedupthebunchof berries which he had presented her at the opening of the school session and began to fondle them; while Trinidad, too overcome to speak, stood leaning against the door, gazing sadly in the direction that the Girl had taken As for Rance,aftercallingtoNicktobringhimadrink,hequietlybroughtoutapack ofcardsfromhispocketand,seemingly,becameabsorbedinagameofsolitaire Alittlewhilelater,hiseyesstillredfromweeping,Nickremarked: “ThePolkawon’tneverbethesame,boys—theGirl’sgone.” XVIII THE soft and velvety blackness of night was giving place to a pearly grey, and thefeatherystreaksofatremblingdawnwereshootingheavenwardwhenaman, whose head had been pillowed on a Mexican saddle, rose from the ground in frontofatepee,madeofblanketsoncrossedsticks,andseatedhimselfonanold tree-stumpwhereheproceededtolightacigarette In the little tepee, sheltered by an overhanging rock, the Girl was still sleeping;andtheman,sittingoppositethemoundofearthandrockonwhichit wasbuilt,wasJohnson AweekhadpassedsincethelovershadleftCloudyMountain,andeachday, at the moment when the sun burst above the snow-capped mountains, found them up and riding slowly eastward No attempt whatever was made at haste, but,instead,nowclimbingeasilytothetopofthepasses,nowdescendinginto the valleys, they rode slowly on, ever loathe to leave behind them the great forestsandhighmountains Noon of each day found them always resting in some glen where the sun madegoldenlace-workofthebranchesovertheirheads;whileattheapproach ofnightwhenthegreatorbwasnolongertobeseenthroughthetree-topsand twilight was fast settling upon the woods, they would halt near a pool of a dancing brook where, with the relish of fatigue, they would partake of their rations;andthen,whenthesilencescameon,Johnsonwouldproceedtoputup withlovingskilltheGirl’srudequartersand,stretchinghimselfoutonagentle slope, covered with pine needles matted close together, the man and the Girl wouldgotosleeplisteningtothemusicofthestreamasitgurgledanddashed along,foamingandleaping,overtherocksandbeneaththelittlepatchesofsnow forgottenbythesun Andtothesetwo,whetherinthedepthsofthevastforest or, as now, at the edge of the merciless desert, stretching away like a world withoutend,theirenvironmentseemednothinglessthanaparadise Thereweremoments,however,inthelongdays,whichcouldbedevotedto reflection; and often Johnson pondered over the strange fate that had brought him under the influence—an influence which held him now and which he earnestlyprayedwouldcontinuetoholdhim—andintocloserelationshipwitha charactersodifferentfromhisown Acontemplationofhispastlifewaswholly unnecessary,fortherealisationhadcometohimthatitwasherpersonalityalone that had awakened his dormant sense of what was right and what was wrong, andchangedthecourseofhislife Thathisfuturewasfullofpossibilities,evilas wellasgood,hewasonlytoowellaware;nevertheless,hisfaithinhimselfwas that of a strong man whose powers of resistance, in this case, would be immeasurablystrengthenedbyconstantassociationwithastrongercharacter It was while he was in the midst of these thoughts that the Girl, without lettinghimseeher,quietlydrewtheblanketsofthetepeealittletoonesideand peered out at him She, too, had not been without her moments of meditation Not that she regretted for an instant that she had committed herself to him irrevocably but, rather, because she feared lest he should find it difficult to detach himself, soul and body, from the adventurous life he had been leading Such painful communings, however, were rare and quickly dismissed as unworthyofher;andnowasshelookedathimwithfaithandjoyinhereyes,it seemedtoherthatneverbeforehadsheseenhimappearsoresoluteandstrong, andsherejoicedthathebelongedtoher Atthethoughtablushspreadoverher features, and it was not until she had drawn the blankets back into their place thatshecalledfrombehindthem: “Areyouawake,Dick?” Atthesoundofhervoicethemanquicklyaroseand,goingovertothetepee, he parted the blankets and held them open And even as she passed out the greynessofdawnwasreplacedbysilver,andsilverbypinktintswhichlighted up the pale green of the sage brush, the dwarf shrubs and clumps of Buffalo grassaroundthemaswellasthedarkergreenofthepinesandhemlocksofthe foothillsintheneardistance “Anotherday,Girl,”hesaidsoftly “See,thedawnisbreaking!” Forsomemomentstheystoodsidebysideinsilence,themanthinkingofthe future,thewomanserenelyhappyandlostinadmirationofthecalmbeautyof thescenewhich,inonedirection,atleast,differedgreatlyfromanythingthatshe hadeverbeheld Everynightprevioustotheonejustpassedtheyhadencamped in the great forests; but now they looked upon a vast expanse of level plain which, to the north and east, stretched trackless and unbroken by mountain or ravinetoaninfinitude—theboundlessprairiessoontobemellowedandturned toagoldenbrownbytheshaftsofaburningsunalreadyjustbelowtheedgeof anhorizonaglowwithopalinetints TheGirlhadeverbeenaloverofnature Allherlifethemysteryandsilences of the high mountains had appealed to her soul; but never until now had she realisedthemarvellousbeautyandgloryofthegreatplains Andyet,thoughher eyes shone with the wonder of it all, there was an unmistakably sad and reminiscentnoteinthevoicethatpresentlymurmured: “Anotherday.” After a while, and as if under the spell of some unseen power, she slowly turnedandfacedthewestwhereshegazedlongandearnestlyatthepanoramaof thesnow-cappedpeaks,risingrangeafterrange,alltippedwithdazzlinglight “Oh, Dick, look back!” she cried in distress “The foothills are growin’ fainter.”Shepaused,butsuddenlywithafar-offlookinhereyesshewenton: “Everydawn—everydawnthey’llbefartheraway SomenightwhenI’mgoin’ tosleepI’llturnan’theywon’tbethere—redan’shinin’.”Againshepausedas if almost overwhelmed with emotion, saying at length with a deep sigh: “Oh, thatwasindeedthepromisedland!” Johnsonwasgreatlymoved Itwassometimebeforehefoundhisvoice At lengthhechidedhersoftly: “We must always look ahead, Girl—not backwards The promised land is alwaysahead.” ItwasperhapsstrangethattheGirlfailedtoseethenewlight—thelightthat reflected his desire for a cleaner life and an honoured place in another communitywithhereverathisside—thehopeandfaithinhiseyesashespoke; butstillinthatsad,reminiscentmood,withhereyesfixedonthedimdistances, shefailedtoseeit,thoughsherepliedinavoiceofresignation: “Always ahead—yes, it must be.” And then again with tears in her eyes: “But, Dick, all the people there in Cloudy, how far off they seem now—like shadowsmovin’inadream—likeshadowsI’vedreamtof OnlyafewdaysagoI clasped their hands—I seen their faces—their dear faces—I—” She broke off; thenwhilethetearsstreameddownhercheeks:“An’nowthey’refadin’—inthis littlewhileI’velost’em—lost’em.” “Butthroughyouallmyoldlifehasfadedaway Ihavelostthat ”Andso saying he stretched out his arms towards her; but very gently she waved him backwithamurmured: “Notyet!” Foralittlewhilelongerhergazeremainedonthemountainsinthewest The mist was still over her eyes when she turned again and saw that the sun was clearingthehorizoninopulentsplendour “See,” she cried with a quick transition of mood, “the sun has risen in the East—faraway—fairan’clear!” AgainJohnsonheldouthisarmstoher “Anewday—anewlife—trustme,Girl.” In silence she slipped one hand into his; then she bowed her head and repeatedsolemnly: “Yes—anewlife.” Suddenlyshedrewalittleawayfromhimandfacedthewestagain Clinging tightlynowtohimwithonehand,andtheotherraisedhighaboveherhead,she criedinavoicethatwasfraughtwithsuchpassionatelongingthatthemanfelt himselfstirredtotheverydepthsofhisemotions: “Oh,mymountains,I’mleavin’you!Oh,myCalifornia—mylovelyWest— my Sierras, I’m leavin’ you!” She ended with a sob; but the next moment throwing herself into Johnson’s arms she snuggled there, murmuring lovingly: “Oh,myhome!” Alittlewhilelater,happyintheirloveandfearlesslyeagertomeetthetrials ofthedaystocomeinanewcountry,theyhadmountedtheirmustangsandwere ridingeastward ZANEGREY’SNOVELS Maybehadwhereverbooksaresold AskforGrosset&Dunlap’slist THELIGHTOFWESTERNSTARS ANewYorksocietygirlbuysaranchwhichbecomesthecenteroffrontier warfare Herloyalsuperintendentrescuesherwhensheiscapturedbybandits A surprisingclimaxbringsthestorytoadelightfulclose THERAINBOWTRAIL The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great westernuplands—untilatlastloveandfaithawake DESERTGOLD The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who is the story’sheroine RIDERSOFTHEPURPLESAGE A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon authorityruled TheprosecutionofJaneWithersteenisthethemeofthestory THELASTOFTHEPLAINSMEN ThisistherecordofatripwhichtheauthortookwithBuffaloJones,known asthepreserveroftheAmericanbison,acrosstheArizonadesertandofahunt in“thatwonderfulcountryofdeepcañonsandgiantpines.” THEHERITAGEOFTHEDESERT Alovelygirl,whohasbeenrearedamongMormons,learnstoloveayoung New Englander The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall becomethesecondwifeofoneoftheMormons—Well,that’stheproblemofthis greatstory THESHORTSTOP Theyounghero,tiringofhisfactorygrind,startsouttowinfameandfortune asaprofessionalballplayer Hishardknocksatthestartarefollowedbysuch successascleansportsmanship,courageandhonestyoughttowin BETTYZANE ThisstorytellsofthebraveryandheroismofBetty,thebeautifulyoungsister ofoldColonelZane,oneofthebravestpioneers THELONESTARRANGER Afterkillingamaninselfdefense,BuckDuanebecomesanoutlawalongthe Texasborder InacampontheMexicansideoftheriver,hefindsayounggirl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down upon himself the wrathofhercaptorsandhenceforthishuntedononesidebyhonestmen,onthe otherbyoutlaws THEBORDERLEGION Joan Randle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless Western mining camp, to prove his mettle Then realizing that she loved him—she followed him out On her way, she is captured by a bandit band, and trouble beginswhensheshootsKells,theleader—andnurseshimtohealthagain Here entersanotherromance—whenJoan,disguisedasanoutlaw,observesJim,inthe throesofdissipation Agoldstrike,athrillingrobbery—gamblingandgunplay carryyoualongbreathlessly THELASTOFTHEGREATSCOUTS, ByHelenCodyWetmoreandZaneGrey ThelifestoryofColonelWilliamF Cody,“BuffaloBill,”astoldbyhissister andZaneGrey ItbeginswithhisboyhoodinIowaandhisfirstencounterwith anIndian Wesee“Bill”asaponyexpressrider,thennearFortSumterasChief oftheScouts,andlaterengagedinthemostdangerousIndiancampaigns There is also a very interesting account of the travels of “The Wild West” Show No character in public life makes a stronger appeal to the imagination of America than“BuffaloBill,”whosedaringandbraverymadehimfamous GROSSET&DUNLAP,PUBLISHERS,NEWYORK THENOVELSOF WINSTONCHURCHILL THEINSIDEOFTHECUP IllustratedbyHowardGiles The Reverend John Hodder is called to a fashionable church in a middlewestern city He knows little of modern problems and in his theology is as orthodoxastherichmenwhocontrolhischurchcoulddesire Butthefactsof modernlifearethrustuponhim;anawakeningfollowsandintheendheworks outasolution AFARCOUNTRY IllustratedbyHermanPfeifer Thisnovelisconcernedwithbig problemsoftheday As The Inside ofthe Cupgetsdowntotheessentialsinitsdiscussionofreligion,soAFarCountry dealsinastorythatisintenseanddramatic,withothervitalissuesconfronting thetwentiethcentury AMODERNCHRONICLE IllustratedbyJ H GardnerSoper This, Mr Churchill’s first great presentation of the Eternal Feminine, is throughout a profound study of a fascinating young American woman It is franklyamodernlovestory MR CREWE’SCAREER Illus byA I KellerandKinneys ANewEnglandstateisunderthepoliticaldominationofarailwayandMr Crewe, a millionaire, seizes a moment when the cause of the people is being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his own interest in a political way Thedaughteroftherailwaypresidentplaysnosmallpartinthesituation THECROSSING IllustratedbyS AdamsonandL Bay Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie, the blazing of the Kentucky wilderness,theexpeditionofClarkandhishandfuloffollowersinIllinois,the beginning of civilization along the Ohio and Mississippi, and the treasonable schemesagainstWashington CONISTON IllustratedbyFlorenceScovelShinn A deft blending of love and politics A New Englander is the hero, a crude manwhorosetopoliticalprominencebyhisownpowers,andthensurrendered allfortheloveofawoman THECELEBRITY Anepisode An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of personalities betweenacelebratedauthorandabicyclesalesman Itisthepurest,keenestfun —andisAmericantothecore THECRISIS IllustratedwithscenesfromthePhoto-Play Abookthatpresentsthegreatcrisisinournationallifewithsplendidpower andwithasympathy,asincerity,andapatriotismthatareinspiring RICHARDCARVEL IllustratedbyMalcolmFrazer An historical novel which gives a real and vivid picture of Colonial times, andisgood,clean,spiritedreadinginallitsphasesandinterestingthroughout GROSSET&DUNLAP,PUBLISHERS,NEWYORK EndofProjectGutenberg'sTheGirloftheGoldenWest,byDavidBelasco ***ENDOFTHISPROJECTGUTENBERGEBOOKTHEGIRLOFTHEGOLDENWEST*** 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