Partners of Chance

d written more or less conventional stuff--acceptable stories of the subway, the slums, the docks, and the streets of Eastern cities. But now, as he strode over to the sa

ving-kit and a few essentials, his baggage comprised but little that he could use out here in the mesa country. And he felt a certain relief in not having trunks to look after. Outing flannels and evening clothes would hardly fit into the p

ator. "Mr. Bartley, mee

shook

River is Joy in the Hills,"

ned. "Steve, here, says the sou

n, what would you say

say that it depends how far you travel up or down Green River. But as a mere individual

re glasses, Tom,"

ossed one leg over the other, and lighted a cigar. "I'm rather inc

nclined don't hurt any. But if you keep on reachin' f

"Now, take me, for a horrible example. I been navigatin' Green R

rather scarce in this count

in' through your fingers at her. Wait till you get on a cayuse and hit the trail for a few hundred miles--that's the only way to se

op-hand once. Worked for me a spell. But he can't stay in one place long. Wish you could meet him sometime. He can tell you more about this State than any man I know. He's what you might call

that you gave 'em over to the Sta

o'try. It was one he read in a ma

The tramp

st and the ra

ep and the sm

face--and t

, and the wide

illed with the

down with our re

ut never to m

bust loose on po'try--that is, my kind of po'try. And I want to say that we sure clattered down from the Butte and

fter havin' courted her an amazin' lot, in our young days." The Senator chuckled. "Now, Lon, here, he'll tell you that there ain't no po

nce?" quer

s a heap sight bigger liar than I am. Seein' some of them yarns in print, folks around this country would say: 'Steve Brown's corralled some tenderfoot and loaded him

yet," said the foreman, rising.

rtley turned to the Senator. "Are

a spell. Lon he thinks. And that's more than I ever did

the drug-store and get a

to bed down at

t over the idea that I have to take the next

The Senator excused himself and crossed the street to talk to a friend. The afternoon sun slanted across the hot roofs, painting bl

a smile as he escor

ath up, right soon

lvanized iron washtub and a kettle o

in the hall when you're

etter to his friend in California, explaining his change of plan. The afternoon sunlight waned. Bartley gazed out across the vast mesa

heavy, deliberate footsteps ascending the stairway. Then a clanging crash and a thud, right outside his door. He flung the door open. Senator Steve was rising from the flattened semblance of a washtub and feeli

e foot of the stairs.

nd I'm goin' t

"I'll come up and get t

"Did you hear him, askin' me, a member of the Society for the Prevention of Progress, if I rang for him! That's about

It was hardly nece

me and my missus. We're goin' to eat right soon. You

suppose you forget that author stuff and just take me as

I can't help bein' called 'Senator,' because I'm guilty. But, honest, I a

'll take your

ing. How do you know but I might

would be about e

iangle--sounds like the old ranch, that triangle. You see, Wishful used to be a cow-hand, and lots of cow-hands stop at this hotel when they're in town. Th