The Mesa Trail

able Fred Ross d

your name. Don't know anything more about you. Didn't know whiskey was bad for you; anyway, it cured the

ind the details, but it come to me that if I didn't get somethin' to work for, I might's well qui

ut it up right. I set in to raise crops. I put my body into it. I put my heart into it. I put my li

m his eyes. He surveyed Thady Shea c

lamming me over the ear like you done. My Lord! Ain't I talked to God like you done in there? Ain't things come up to rip the very guts out o' m

ward the morning sun. He did not see the half-plowed flat, he did not see the horses and plow; he did not see the pi?on trees and the trickle of wate

feeling upon his shoulder

here wasn't no help. Well, maybe

d Thady Sh

insisted upon working. He dared not do without working. He began to clear an

board. He looked at the clean wicker demijohn, the new demijohn, the demijohn which hung so heavily and lovingly to the hand; as he looked, a sunbeam struck the gla

He said nothing to Ross about it; he felt vaguely ashamed to let Ross know

cond time he hefted it; then he reached for the cork, trembling-but just then the step of Ross approached, and Shea replaced the demijohn. He knew that he had been saturated with liq

k, out into the bitter cold night, out under the white, cold stars. He would stride up and down the cold earth until the chil

ld nod over his pipe. He did not shave, remembering the words of the ancie

was looking over the horizon. He was thinking of Mrs. Crump. He prayed under a sweat-soaked brow that s

pon one immediate and tremendous purpose: to avoid, to shrink from, that clean

, alone with the ranch, alone with the pi?on trees and the horses, alone with the shack, alone with the corner c

een California and St Louis. Datil was nothing more than a frame store-hotel-post office. In the rear of the long building were sheds, relics of the days when

irst table, and he stood waiting in the adjoining room, smoking by the huge cobbled f

ctim. Ross listened and said nothing, as was his wont. He heard that Thady Shea had ski

en a right strapping guy, eh? And what he done down to Zacaton, when Be

Ross listened in silence. Fred Ross thought of that heavy white crockery cup; reflectively, he rubbed his head ab

rales had seen to it that they had been withdrawn. Abel Dorales had come to Magdalena; there he had half killed three drunken miners who had ventured to taunt him, and for the same reason he had taken a blacksnak

he law ain't after him, anyhow. Now, if he's let that demijohn alone to-day, I

erning Number Sixteen, had, of course, not been made public. But the general gist of th

er, a dust-white flivver with new tires. He paid no attention to it until he was drawn by the sound of a voice which he instantly recog

s is in a goshly-gorful state in the printing business! I done walked here, aiming to make for Sain

ut in a voice strange to

k of, ma'am.

up, now-ain't got much time to waste. My land,

the figure of a very large woman, harsh of features; she was clad in ragged but neat khaki, and beneath her chin were tied the strings of an old black bonnet. Against

hases. This was an occupation demanding ceremony. Other men were here on the same errand, and there was gossip o

iffith had finished his meal and was lounging on the steps of the stirrup-high porch. He star

agerly. "Where's that

e desired only to be rid of this parasite, to be rid

him, old-timer-and wh

he all

een a man able to swallow more red licker than that partner of yours! But you needn't

athful ancient. "You goshly-gorful

ished amid a trail of dust, leaving the ancient to sputter senile threats and curse

an to blame himself for having left Thady Shea all alone, throughout the day from sunrise to sunset, with that wicker demijohn. He beg

was deserted. Ross went straight to the corner cupboard and jerked ope

s!" quoth Ro

eam was gone. He walked up the ca?on, seeing that the lower flat was em

ile of brush. He was lifting something in his hand. It was the wicker demijohn. He set it on his arm and laid the mouth to his lips. Ross could see him

rd. Thady Shea tu

ust knocking off work

His eyes softened as he remembered his misgivings. After all, was it not hi

He stared at the demijohn, stared at th

ed. It was a dee

ch for me. So I emptied out the whiskey and filled it with water,

delightedly, and wiped his lips. "Co

war and the government and the high price of wool. Ross meant to run some sheep up at the head of the ca?on, and discoursed on the project

you. It appears that Abel Dorales has called off the sheriff and withdrawn all charg

r from the law, then! The more personal menac

ly. It was the first time, since that day when he had felled Ross w

man whose fear and reason were overruled by his impulses, a man whose primitive soul arose in a lonely grandeur of sincerit

s heard of her in past years, but had forgotten her name. When Thady Sh

les," he said. "I know

ned Shea, gravely serious

this, and chuckled. "Think ye'll

spoke about once. I'm trying hard. I'm trying to find it, to make it c

ething that you can't find it. You're too damn serious. About sixty, ain't ye? Well, at sixty you're goin' through what ye should ha' gone throug

and Thady Shea tr

house in his own simple and thorough fashion. He took everything outside in the sun. Then he set to work with a bucket of suds and a broom, and s

. He heard the grinding roar of a car coming up the ca?on trail in low gear, and went to the doorway. A dust-whi

. With surprise, Ross recognized her; it was the woman whom he had seen at Datil the previous day. It was the wom

with keen, glittering blue eyes. Her look was

Ross?" sh

" he meekly an

. for a handle," she stated. "You got

Crump of whom Shea had spoken! "Yes'm. Will ye c

chin', and I aim to have a word with you here and now, stran

ance of this woman here, but by her direct attack.

ancient an "earful" about Thady Shea and the whiskey. This woman, who now turned out to be Shea'

was at Datil yesterday and seen you there. If I ever see th

ne told me the truth, I aim to put you where you won't give whiskey to no more men.

oyhood. Even then he had seen it only once or twice, before the "killers" of the old days

him plumb to the brim. And when I went to Datil yesterday, there was a jug two thirds full o' licker in t

g Mrs. Crump could not understand; it bade her go slow, be cautious. She knew her type

spiciously. "If you've made a soak out o' him, pilgrim Ross, I'm coming right back here

ce she glanced back, to see Ross standing where sh