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Updated: June 10, 2025
"Clean across the room, where the chair is tumbled over against the table." "How many times did Bisbee shoot?" Galloway seemed to be trying to remember. He drank his whiskey slowly, reached over the bar for a cigar, and answered: "Twice or three times." "How many times did Rickard shoot?" "I'm not sure. I'd say about the same; two or three times." "Where was Antone standing?"
Gilbert looked up, "And she thought she loved him?" "Until she met up with that hoss doctor from Albuquerque! An' now there's a new feller in Bisbee!" Jones was a trifle mystified, "Say, how do you happen to know so much about her affairs, 'Red'?" How involved he had become! He blushed like a schoolboy; got up, took his pipe out of his mouth and emptied it in the fireplace. "Me?" he said.
Here is a sledge, in the form of a dignified and scholarly volume, published by the exclusive house of Scribner, and written by the Bishop of my boyhood, the Bishop whose train I carried in the stately ceremonials: "The Citizen in His Relation to the Industrial Situation," by the Right Reverend Henry Codman Potter, D. D., L. L. D., D. C. L. a course of lectures delivered before the sons of our predatory classes at Yale University, under the endowment of a millionaire mining king, founder of the Phelps-Dodge corporation, which the other day carried out the deportation from their homes of a thousand striking miners at Bisbee, Arizona.
Her dignified exit had been no more convincing to him than to Bisbee. He went back over the past and recalled all he knew of the woman whose daughter he had married. She had visited the United States about twenty-one years ago, met and married Delano, and remained in San Francisco two or three months on their way to Japan.
That, reader, is the true story of the discovery of the Copper Queen, the mine that has made a dozen fortunes and two cities Bisbee and Douglas. If I had gone in with Stevens in grub-staking poor Warren would I, too, I wonder, have sold my share for some foolish trifle or recklessly gambled it away? I wonder!... Probably, I should.
He walked down town and as he entered the lobby of the Columbia at the close of the first act he saw 'Gene Bisbee and D.V. Bimmer, who was now managing a hotel in San Francisco, standing together.
"Well," began Rimrock, sitting down on the edge of the sidewalk and looking absently up the street, "take me, for instance. I go out across the desert to the Tecolotes and find a whole mountain of copper. You don't have to chop it out with chisels, like that native copper around the Great Lakes; and you don't have to go underground and do timbering like they do around Bisbee and Cananea.
"You have no reason to suppose that it was not typhoid fever of which he died?" She hesitated. "No," she replied, "but if you had known Mr. Bisbee you would think it strange, too. He had a horror of infectious and contagious diseases. His apartment and his country home were models. No sanitarium could have been more punctilious. He lived what one of his friends called an antiseptic life.
"And would you let me see the list?" "Certainly. You may look it over in a moment." Kennedy glanced hurriedly through the short list of names, pulled out his notebook, made an entry, and handed the list back. "Thank you, Major." Bisbee Hall was a splendid place set in the heart of a great park whose area was measured by square miles rather than by acres.
Quinn!" said the appreciative "Red," sitting down, and getting busy, "Won't you come to Bisbee with Angela an' me the next time we go to the movies?" She gave him a half-scornful look. "An' what would yez want with an old woman like meself taggin' along with yez now?" Mrs. Quinn exclaimed, her arms akimbo.
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