tion>
Randall Parrish
Keith of the Border: A Tale of the Plains
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4064066245900
Table of Contents
Chapter II. The Scene of Tragedy
Chapter IV. An Old Acquaintance
Chapter VII. In the Sand Desert
Chapter VIII. The Wilderness Cabin
Chapter IX. The Girl of the Cabin
Chapter X. Mr. Hawley Reveals Himself
Chapter XI. The Fight in the Dark
Chapter XII. Through the Night Shadows
Chapter XIII. The Ford of the Arkansas
Chapter XIV. The Landlady of the Occidentals
Chapter XV. Again Christie Maclaire
Chapter XVI. Introducing Doctor Fairbain
Chapter XVII. In the Next Room
Chapter XVIII. Interviewing Willoughby
Chapter XIX. A Glimpse at Conspiracy
Chapter XX. Hope Goes to Sheridan
Chapter XXI. The Marshal of Sheridan
Chapter XXII. An Interrupted Interview
Chapter XXIII. An Unexpected Meeting
Chapter XXIV. A Mistake in Assassination
Chapter XXV. A Reappearance of the General
Chapter XXVI. A Chance Conversation
Chapter XXVII. Miss Hope Suggests
Chapter XXVIII. The Stage Door of the Trocadero
Chapter XXIX. By Force of Arms
Chapter XXX. In Christie's Room
Chapter XXXI. The Search for the Missing
Chapter XXXII. Fairbain and Christie
Chapter XXXIII. Following the Trail
Chapter XXXIV. Again at the Cabin
Chapter XXXVI. The Duel in the Desert
Chapter XXXVII. At the Water-Hole
Chapter I. The Plainsman
The man was riding just below the summit of the ridge, occasionally uplifting his head so as to gaze across the crest, shading his eyes with one hand to thus better concentrate his vision. Both horse and rider plainly exhibited signs of weariness, but every movement of the latter showed ceaseless vigilance, his glance roaming the barren ridges, a brown Winchester lying cocked across the saddle pommel, his left hand taut on the rein. Yet the horse he bestrode scarcely required restraint, advancing slowly, with head hanging low, and only occasionally breaking into a brief trot under the impetus of the spur.
The rider was a man approaching thirty, somewhat slender and long of limb, but possessing broad, squared shoulders above a deep chest, sitting the saddle easily in plainsman fashion, yet with an erectness of carriage which suggested military training. The face under the wide brim of the weather-worn slouch hat was clean-shaven, browned by sun and wind, and strongly marked, the chin slightly prominent, the mouth firm, the gray eyes full of character and daring. His dress was that of rough service, plain leather “chaps,” showing marks of hard usage, a gray woolen shirt turned low at the neck, with a kerchief knotted loosely about the sinewy bronzed throat. At one hip dangled the holster of a “forty-five,” on the other hung a canvas-covered canteen. His was figure and face to be noted anywhere, a man from whom you would expect both thought and action, and one who seemed to exactly fit into his wild environment.
Where he rode was the very western extreme of the prairie country, billowed like the sea, and from off the crest of its higher ridges, the wide level sweep of the plains was visible, extending like a vast brown ocean to the foothills of the far-away mountains. Yet