Casey Ryan
found a trail now and then which he followed thankfully, and so came at last to a short range of mountains whose name matched well their inhospitable stare. The Starvation Mountains h
aterial one. If he could find water and the rich vein of ore some one had told him was there
g distance from the spring, thanked the god of mechanics that an automobile n
In reaching Starvation Mountains, Casey had driven for fifteen miles within plain sight of Lucky Lode. But gas is precious when you are a hundred miles from a garage, and since business did not take him there Casey did not drive up the five
use, caps and so on-Fate took him by the ear and led him to a lad
left cheek as he drove burned even his leather skin where it struck. Casey was afraid he was running short of water, and a Ford's comfort comes first,-as every man knows; so that Casey was parched pretty thoroughly, inside and out. Within a mile of Furnace
After an hour of fruitless monkey-wrenching and swearing and sweating, Casey began to suspect something. He examined both cans, "hefted" them, smelt and even tasted the one half-empty, an
keep alive his hopes. Casey could not crank, wherefore he knew himself beaten even while he heaved and lifted and swore, and strained every muscle in his back lifting
hot wind, his face was purple from the same wind, his lips were dry and rough. I cannot blame the men at Lucky Lode for a sudden thirst when they saw him
fitting a lady. Casey was hungry and thirsty and tired, and, as much as was possible to his nature, disgusted, with life in general. The widow gave him a smile of sympathy which went straight to his heart, and hot biscuits and coffee and beans
machine shop where he could get at it, and Casey worked until night trying to remove the dingbats from the hootin'annies,-otherwi
en years on account of having seen a big yellow snake with a green head on the occasion of his last carouse, he took the drinking pledge quite cheerfully for her sake. He promised to stop smoking, glad that the widow neglected to
ld him. Whereat Casey grinned feebly and explained for the tenth time that he had not
hy, after all these years of careless freedom, he should precipitate himself int
e,-and much the same color. "Any man feels the want of a home as he gits older. And Casey's the man that will try anything once, you ask anybody." He took out his pipe, looked at it, bethought himself of his promis
cially after dinner, with the delicious flavor of pie still caressing his palate. Only he wish
hole, and say, 'Oh, dear!' and let it go at that," he boasted to her on the secon
ever touch another drop of liquor. You'l
called dear boy, at least to his face. He kissed the widow full on the lips before he saw th
, you
re?
mise won't be broken as easily as that one. Remember,
r dubiously. "If y
ell about your fighting and drinking and playing cards for money. But I think it's perfectly awful. You must stop drinki
d to hear him tell about finding a pocket of ore that went seventy ounces in silver and one and seven tenths ounces in gold, and how he expected any day to
that come so unexpectedly in the mountain country. Casey had worked until dark, and was dog-tired and had left the box standing uncovered beside the dugout where he kept it. He suspected tha
was a very careless thing to do, she said. Casey admitted it was. A man who handled dynamite ought to shun liquor above all things, she w
you sure you have
drove off down the hill, vaguely aware that h
abruptly as had the giant powder. After that