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Updated: June 11, 2025
So he was filling his bag of tricks as he went along. From Vegas there is what purports to be an automobile road across the desert to Round Butte, and Casey as he walked cursed his burros and William and sighed for his Ford. He was four days traveling to Furnace Lake, which he had made in a matter of hours with his Ford when he first came to Starvation.
Nearly westward from the last-named point was Las Vegas Springs, distant about twenty miles, a camping point on the road between San Bernardino and Salt Lake, and permanent residence of missionaries.
In the Fourth Legislature, which met at Prescott, September 4, 1867, Gass, who had moved to Las Vegas, was returned to the Council where again he was chosen president, and Cutler, who had moved to St. Joseph, again was in the House. On the record of the Legislature's proceedings, Gass is styled "ranchero" and Cutler "farmer."
Roy might never have been shot, judging from the way he stepped out, and Dale was almost as quick. Carmichael reached them grasped them with swift, hard hands. "Boys I jest rode in. An' they said you'd found her!" "Shore, Las Vegas. Dale fetched her home safe an' sound.... There she is." The cowboy thrust aside the two men, and with a long stride he faced the porch, his piercing eyes on the door.
"The town is full of people like me. Besides, you lads can't gamble, anyway. The legal age is twenty-one. Come back in a few years if you feel rich and foolish, and try bucking the tiger. You'll see what I mean." "We'll take your word for it," Scotty assured him. "Come on, Rick. Let's hit the hay. I can use a nap." If Las Vegas was spectacular by day, it was a neon nightmare after dark.
Telephone lines were jammed with calls from Atomic Energy Commission field officials reporting the phenomena to Washington and calling for aid from West Coast and New Mexico AEC bases. Jet fighters at Nellis Air Force base near Las Vegas, were scrambled and roared north over the ground vehicles to report visual conditions near the purple pillar of power.
"Milt, of course," replied Bo. Helen had to laugh despite her weariness and aches. "I suppose, then, when your Las Vegas cowboy comes along you will call him what he called you." Bo blushed, which was a rather unusual thing for her. "I will if I like," she retorted. "Nell, ever since I could remember you've raved about the West. Now you're OUT West, right in it good and deep. So wake up!"
Us folks may some of us want to go back to the States sometime, and it's a long way to ride from Heart's Desire to any railroad the way it is, unless you've got mighty good company, like I have, this trip. I get awful lonesome sometimes, drivin' between here and Vegas. I had a parrot onct, and a phonygraph, as you may remember, but the fellers took 'em both away from me, you know.
Of very early designation were old Las Vegas Springs and Beaver Dams, the latter now known as Littlefield. The main road to Callville appears to have been down the Virgin for a short distance from St. Thomas, and then to have led over the hills to the westward. From Callville, a road connected with the main highway at Las Vegas.
Helen remembered hearing her uncle say that a real Westerner hated nothing so hard as the swaggering desperado, the make-believe gunman who pretended to sail under the true, wild, and reckoning colors of the West. Roy leaned his lithe, tall form against the stone mantelpiece and faced the girls. "When I rode out after Las Vegas I seen him 'way down the road," began Roy, rapidly.
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