The Trail of the White Mule

ured hand was throbbing from the poison in his system and the steel band on his swollen wrist

in a measure his performance with the dynamite; at least, he felt a keen disappointment that Barney was alive and

ther end of the room. A blood-stained bandage wrapped Paw's head turbanwise, and his little, d

imly remembered as a coroner, was talking with a big, burly individual whom Casey guessed was the sheriff. A man came in and announced to the big man tha

ther," he said, and bit his lip at the m

ard him. "Is she here?" His eyes sent a quick glance a

cite her. She-hasn't been well since my father was killed in the mine; she's quiet enough with us-she knows us. I

t IS kinda-pitiful. Thinks everybody in the world is damned and going to hell on a long lope." He

how you where she is, sure. But can't you leave her be till

riff reminded Mart. "We'll be dri

ring her into the cabin. But whatever they did, Casey wanted no part in it whatever. He wanted to be left alone, and he wanted

But Casey wanted neither supper nor kindly intentions, and he was still unregenerately regretful that Barney Oakes was not lying out on the garbage heap in a more o

and was secretly rather proud of the fact that they considered him so dangerous as all that. Had his mood not been a

heriff's party, and one was a seven-passenger. In the roomy rear seat of this car, Casey, shackled and savage, was

r quiet; which it failed to do. Into Casey's ear rolled the full volume of her rich contralto voice as she monotonously intoned the doom of all mankind-together with every cat, ever

to see him. I was working to get him out of there on bail if possible before I sent word to the Little Woman, hoping she had not read the papers. I had some trouble piecing the facts together and trying to get the straight of things before I sent word to th

cahoots with him at no time. When he says I got 'im to foller a Joshuay palm jest to git '

some hesitancy about the bail, too, which I wished to overcome. Throwing that half-stick of dynamite might be construed

near Black Butte, and it was rumored that one Mart Hanson, who owned a mine up there, was banking more money than was reasonable, these hard times, for a miner, who ships no ore

proariously one of the gang. Throwing loaded dynamite at sheriffs is frowned upon nowadays in

Casey Ryan and there ambushed and nearly killed. Casey, as Barney now interpreted the incident, had joined his confederates under the very thin pretense of climbing the butte to come at th

e. Afterwards I had a talk with Joe and Paw, separately, and so got at the whole truth. They bore no malice toward Casey and were

t even omitting the burro, before she went to the jail to see Casey. It was a pr

nd his feet crossed, his good hand thrust in his trousers pocket and a cigarette in one corner of his mouth, which turned sourly downward. He cocked an eye up at us and rose, as the Little W

his good arm. I wish you could have seen the loo

your shirt collar is a disgrace t

d grinned. He hadn't a word to say for

Broadway just five days before Barney Oakes says he found you stalled in the trail north of Barstow; and that you had been pinched pr

ept the word of the city police that you were there raising the record for traffic trouble and not moonshining at Black Butte. He doesn't approve of throwing dynamite at people,

face I'm goin' t' create for him if I ever me

route, and he PERSISTS in running across the lawn and dumping the laundry in the front hall, though I've told him and TOLD him to deliver it at the back. And there's a new tenant in Number Six, and they hadn't been in more than three days before

Ryan he won't go! Who'd, they think's runnin' the place? Lemme ketch that laundry driver oncet, runnin' across our lawn; I'll run

nd lowered a cautious eyelid. I left them then and went away to ha