Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 20, 2025
Torrance shook his head. "The Mormons and the Apaches will keep you poor, Jim." "They might, if I tried it alone. But I have a partner just up from the border. You remember Pat. He's been customs inspector at Nogales for some time." "I should say I do remember him!" "Well, he asked me to look around and write to him. I think we could do well enough here.
When Jack looked away at the water-hole Prather's fingers slipped to his own six-shooter and rested there, twitching nervously; and in the rear Firio was watching both him and Nogales shrewdly. From any outward sign now, Jack might have been starting on another journey with quiet eagerness; a journey that might end at a precipice a few yards ahead or at the other side of the world.
As Jack and Firio came within hailing distance, both Prather and Nogales glanced at them sharply; but no word was spoken on either side. The absence of any call between these isolated voyagers of the desert sea was strangely unlike the average desert meeting. Prather and Nogales did not look back again, not even when Jack and Firio were very near.
Then Nogales started back with his head thrown up jubilantly, but stopped when he was within calling distance and sang out, truculently: "Leddy get you both! He get everything!" He turned on his heel and soon was another lump around the water-hole. "That makes nine, Firio!" said Jack. He smiled in relief to be rid of Nogales; smiled in happy confidence, as if he were truly the ancestor's child.
She favored an early afternoon start; he argued for his point of view, and in their preoccupation with the passage of arms they did not notice Pedro Nogales slipping along beside the hedge with soft steps, his hand under his jacket. A gleam out of the bosom of Pedro's jacket, a cry from Mary, and a knife flashed upward and drove toward Jack's neck.
When he saw her pass through the gate to the train, in Los Angeles, that was his first intimation that she was going to Nogales; so he had stayed in the chair car out of sight. But it just shows how great minds run in the same channel; and how, without suspecting one another, these two started at the same time upon the same quest.
The Eternal Painter was shaking out the silvery cloud-mist of his beard across a background that had a softer, kindlier, deeper blue. The shadows of the ponies and their riders and Jag Ear and his pack no longer lay under their bellies heavily, but were stretched out to one side by the angle of the sun, in cheerful, jogging fraternity. Prather and Nogales had again become only a speck.
Whiteman burrowed through his stock from top to bottom, but still the new foreman growled at the insufficiency. "There's more'n five thousand sheep in that bunch that has just crossed the Nogales," said he, "and we've got to kill 'em, every one. Do you suppose my men is goin' to take to clubs, like Digger Injuns?" Whiteman could only shrug.
It was past midnight when he reached the flat-topped mesa near the Nogales divide, where there were no trees at all, and where ancient pottery, relics of a forgotten Heart's Desire of another race and time, crumbled beneath his horse's hoofs.
Great place for holdups, that!" This was a joke, and Jean smiled obligingly. "First the United States holds you up, and then the Mexicans. You get it coming and going. Well, Nogales don't have to stand. It squats. It's adobe mostly." Jean was interested, and she did not discourage the nice young man.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking