The Trail of the White Mule

light, slid out from the halted traffic, shied sharply away from a hysterically clanging street car, crossed the path of a huge red tru

that, Casey offered to lick the livin' tar outa him before accepting a pale, e

more'n I care," Casey declaimed hotly. "I never was asked what I thought of them tin signs you stick up on the end of

," spluttered the officer. "I oug

the line first!" Case

xtended two blocks up the street. The traffic officer glanced into the troubled g

emory ain't the best in the world. Twice you've been hooked for speeding through traffic; and parking by fire-plugs and in front of

ne to untangle two furious Fords from a horse-drawn mail

him exclaimed. "It can't be so hard to obey the rules; other drivers do. I

st of a young movie star in a cream-and-silver racer, an

slid out of the driver's seat to the pavemen

be silly," his wife cried sharp

ted out to her with that mildness of manner

he traffic again. Do be reasonable! You kn

ut of the show soon as the huggin' commenced. You wouldn't even let me stay to see the first of Mutt and Jeff. You said you was in a hurry. I leaves t

eering voice behind him bellowed. "This ain't any rec

s car. This man did not argue. He finished his work briskly, presented another notice which advised Casey Ryan to report immediately to poli

ehind his half-closed lids. "They can go around me, or they can honk and be darned to 'em. Git behind the wheel, ma'am-Ca

ll the way out to the white apartment house on Vermont which held the four rooms they called home. She parked

ne sort and other, and his fines cost more than the entire upkeep of the car. I think he really will have to go to jail this time.

ort the Little Woman. "I didn't think it would work, his coming here to live, with nothing

e right-though he did behave back there as if it were too much matrimony. Jack, h

er shall be Casey Ryan. He's running true to form, though ta

. With two nominal arrests in five minutes chalked against him, and with his first rebellion

hile steps on the sidewalk passed on or ended with the closing of another door than the Ryans'. I fought the impulse to call up the police station, and I caught the eyes of the Little Woman straying unconsciously to the tele

re?" I blurted. "Forgive my butting in, but I wish you'd talk about it. You know you can, to me. Casey

youth. A fighter and a castle builder; a sort of rough-edged Peter Pan. Till he gums soft food and hobbles with a stick because the years have warped his back and his l

ening their edges with sensitive fingers that had no

cooking breakfast every morning and feeding me in bed, forcing me to eat fried eggs and sour-dough hotcakes swimming in butter and honey-when I crave grapefruit and thin toast and one French lamb chop with a white paper frill on the handle and garnished with fresh parsley-he's the soul of

res ever invented; and buying my bread and cakes and salads from the delicatessen around the corner. I never want to see a sagebush again as long as I live, or feel the crunch of gravel under my feet. I expect to die in Fren

than you seemed to do

whitewashed store cookies and having the noise of the phonograph drowned every five minutes by a passing street car. Casey wants four movies a day, and he wa

mething which is perfectly lawful and right in the desert and perfectly awful in the city. You saw him," said the Little

re yourself for not playing according to the rules costs money without getting you anywhere. Fifty-five thousand dollars isn't so much just to play with, in this town. Casey's highest ambition now seems to be ni

and fortunately it's in my name. So long as the housing problem continues

tured, "when he bought this place. Apartmen

boss, he or the landlord. The first thing he did when we moved in was to take down the nicely framed rules that said we m

and play bucking bronk with Babe all up and down the stairs and in the halls. Our rent was paid for a month in advance, and the lan

ildren they needn't disown whenever they go house-hunting. I had ventilator hoods put over every gas range in the house, and turned the back yard into a playground with plenty of sand piles and swings. I raised the pric

hey're excruciatingly polite to him, no matter what he does or says. He's tired of the beaches and he has begun to cuss the long, smooth roads that are signed so that he co

n excused herself and went into the ha

the flames of civilization licking tamely at the impregnable iron

The licking flames of dry greasewood burning, with a pungent odor in my nostrils when the wind blew the smoke my way. The far-off hooting of an owl, perched

re sunrise, his mind intent upon the trail; facing the desert and its hardships as

s rhythm; a tap and a turn of the steel, a tap and a turn-chewing tobacco industriously and stopping now and then to pry

would break a snake's back to follow, hot on the heels of his

e had been talking with Destiny and was s

San Bernardino. He's going out on a prospecting trip, he says. I'll say he's been going some! A speed cop overhauled him just the other side of Claremont, he told me, and he was delayed for a few minutes while he licked the cop and kicked him

and-onyx clock which I suspected Casey of having bought. "If he isn't lynched before m

But the Little Woman put up a hand t

an take it out on a Ford and a pick and shovel. There really isn't any trouble between us two. Casey knows I can look out

d try to keep an eye on him. It would probably be a good thing, I told her, if he did stay away

s that night. I really intended to find him and keep an eye on him. But

f Casey and a more or less complete report of events in which I