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    The Lonesome Trail: With linked Table of Contents
    The Lonesome Trail: With linked Table of Contents
    The Lonesome Trail: With linked Table of Contents
    Ebook67 pages1 hour

    The Lonesome Trail: With linked Table of Contents

    By B. M. Bower

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    About this ebook

    A man is very much like a horse. Once thoroughly frightened by something he meets on the road, he will invariably shy at the same place afterwards, until a wisely firm master leads him perforce to the spot and proves beyond all doubt that the danger is of his own imagining; after which he will throw up his head and deny that he ever was afraid—and be quite amusingly sincere in the denial.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilder Publications, Inc.
    Release dateJan 30, 2015
    ISBN9781633846753
    The Lonesome Trail: With linked Table of Contents

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      Book preview

      The Lonesome Trail - B. M. Bower

      THE LONESOME TRAIL

      B. M. BOWER

      ©2015 Wilder Publications, Inc.

      All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except for brief quotations for review purposes only.

      Wilder Publications, Inc.

      PO Box 632

      Floyd, VA 24091-0632

      ISBN 13: 978-1-63384-675-3

      Table of Contents

      PART ONE

      PART TWO

      PART THREE

      PART FOUR

      PART FIVE

      PART SIX

      PART ONE

      A man is very much like a horse. Once thoroughly frightened by something he meets on the road, he will invariably shy at the same place afterwards, until a wisely firm master leads him perforce to the spot and proves beyond all doubt that the danger is of his own imagining; after which he will throw up his head and deny that he ever was afraid—and be quite amusingly sincere in the denial.

      It is true of every man with high-keyed nature, a decent opinion of himself and a healthy pride of power. It was true of Will Davidson, of the Flying U—commonly known among his associates, particularly the Happy Family, as Weary. As to the cause of his shying at a certain object, that happened long ago. Many miles east of the Bear Paws, in the town where Weary had minced painfully along the streets on pink, protesting, bare soles before the frost was half out of the ground; had yelled himself hoarse and run himself lame in the redoubtable base-ball nine which was to make that town some day famous—the nine where they often played with seven men because the other two had to bug potatoes or do some other menial task and where the umpire frequently engaged in throwing lumps of dried mud at refractory players,—there had lived a Girl.

      She might have lived there a century and Weary been none the worse, had he not acquired the unfortunate habit of growing up. Even then he might have escaped injury had he not persisted in growing up and up, a straight six-feet-two of lovable good looks, with the sunniest of tempers and blue eyes that reflected the warm sweetness of that nature, and a smile to tell what the eyes left unsaid.

      Such being the tempting length of him, the Girl saw that he was worth an effort; she took to smoking the chimney of her bedroom lamp, heating curling irons, wearing her best hat and best ribbons on a weekday, and insisting upon crowding number four-and-a-half feet into number three-and-a-half shoes and managing to look as if she were perfectly comfortable. When a girl does all those things, and when she has a good complexion and hair vividly red and long, heavy-lidded blue eyes that have a fashion of looking side-long at a man, it were well for that man to travel—if he would keep the lightness of his heart and the sunny look in his eyes and his smile.

      Weary traveled, but the trouble was that he did not go soon enough. When he did go, his eyes were somber instead of sunny, and he smiled not at all. And in his heart he carried a deep-rooted impulse to shy always at women—and so came to resemble a horse.

      He shied at long, blue eyes and turned his own uncompromisingly away. He never would dance with a woman who had red hair, except in quadrilles where he could not help himself; and then his hand-clasp was brief and perfunctory when it came to Grand right-and-left. If commanded to Balance-swing the red-haired woman was swung airily by the finger-tips—; which was not the way in which Weary swung the others.

      And then came the schoolma'am. The schoolma'am's hair was the darkest brown and had a shine to it where the light struck at the proper angle, and her eyes were large and came near being round, and they were a velvety brown and also had a shine in them.

      Still Weary shied consistently and systematically.

      At the leap-year ball, given on New Year's night, when the ladies were invited to choose your pardners for the hull dance, regardless of who brought yuh, the schoolma'am had forsaken Joe Meeker, with whose parents she boarded, and had deliberately chosen Weary. The Happy Family had, with one accord, grinned at him in a way that promised many things and, up to the coming of the Fourth of July, every promise had been conscientiously fulfilled.

      They brought him many friendly messages from the schoolma'am, to which he returned unfriendly answers. When he accused them openly of trying to load him; they were shocked and grieved. They told him the schoolma'am said she felt drawn to him—he looked so like her darling brother who had spilled his precious blood on San Juan Hill. Cal Emmett was exceedingly proud of this invention, since it seemed to go down with Weary better than most of the lies they told.

      It was the coming of the Fourth and the celebration of that day which provoked further effort to tease Weary.

      "Who are you going to

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