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Updated: May 1, 2025
Part of the rancher's cultivated land, to the extent of several acres, was the level top of this strange bridge. A meadow of alfalfa and a fine vineyard, in the air, like the hanging gardens of Babylon! The natural bridge spanned a deep gorge, at the bottom of which flowed a swift stream of water. Geologically this tremendous arch of limestone cannot be so very old.
At the Upper Forks, through some freak of formation, the stream divided into two. From this point was easy access into the valleys of the Y.D. and the South Y.D., as they were subsequently called. The stream rippled over beds of grey gravel, and mountain trout darted from the rancher's shadow as it fell across the water.
Whoever were talking they seemed to be standing still. The sound grew no louder, nor did it die away. His curiosity drew him on; and with cautious steps, he crept forward. He tried to estimate how far the speakers were from the house. It seemed to him that they were somewhere in the neighborhood of the rancher's private stable. But he could not be altogether sure.
After they left Post's on the way back to Carmel, the condition of the road proved the wisdom of their rejection of the government land. They passed a rancher's wagon overturned, a second wagon with a broken axle, and the stage a hundred yards down the mountainside, where it had fallen, passengers, horses, road, and all.
He moved still with the rolling wheels over a country which showed only here and there the smoke of a rancher's home. Not even yet did the daring flight of the railway cease. It came into a land wide, unbounded, apparently untracked by man, and seemingly set beyond the limit of man's wanderings.
The cowboys and the rancher's son were about to engage in a game of poker when Wade entered the dimly lighted, smoke-hazed room. Montana Jim was sticking tallow candles in the middle of a rude table; Lem was searching his clothes, manifestly for money; Bludsoe shuffled a greasy deck of cards, and Jack Belllounds was filling his pipe before a fire of blazing logs on the hearth. "Dog-gone it!
Then he looked at him as if to ask what had he to say about such positive evidence as he had brought forth, regarding the Movie girl making the best kind of a rancher's wife? "Oh, Jeb! How I love your innocence!" gasped John, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. "I shall certainly sue the Movies for betraying your trust and faith in womankind.
I suppose you aren't looking for a partner?" Iredale's face wore an almost genial expression as he replied. The rancher's tones were so cordial that Hervey congratulated himself upon the manner in which he had approached the subject. "Well, to tell you the truth, I wasn't," he said. "As a matter of fact, you must have seen me despatching my last cargo of yellow. Why?
Well, he would now refuse to be robbed of one cent of it. He looked up sharply as the other made his demand. "You're offering ten thousand dollars reward for the| capture of the Lightfoot gang, Mr. McFarlane?" "That's so." The rancher's regard had deepened. There was a curious light shining in his blue eyes. It was half speculative, half suggestive of growing excitement.
But there was no life in his answer his words came in a tone of utter hopelessness. "Yes, sir; shot down, I gather, in defense of our homestead." The steady stare of the rancher's red eyes was hard to support. Archie felt himself weaken before the personality of this man he had come to see. "Gather?"
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