Dorn Of The Mountains by Zane Grey Read Free Book Online

than they had ever owned before, because their mother, in her care for them and desire to have them look well in the eyes of this rich uncle, had spent money and pains to give them pretty and serviceable clothes.
    The girls sat together, with the heavy basket upon their knees, and ate while they gazed out at the cool dark ridges. The train clattered slowly on, apparently over a road that was all curves. And it was suppertime for everybody in that crowded coach. If Helen had not been so absorbed by the great wild mountain land, she would have had more interest in the passengers. As it was, she saw them and was amused and thoughtful at the men and women and a few children in the car, all middle-class people, poor and hopeful, traveling out there to the new West to find houses. It was splendid and beautiful, this fact, yet it inspired a brief and inexplicable sadness. From the train window that world of forest and crag, with its long bare reaches between, seemed so lonely, so wild, so unlivable. How endless the distance! For hours and miles upon miles no house, no hut, no Indian teepee! It was amazing the length and breadth of this beautiful land. And Helen, who loved brooks and running streams, saw no water at all.
    The darkness settled down over this slow-moving panorama; a cool night wind blew in at the window; white stars began to blink out of the blue. The sisters, with hands clasped and heads nestled together, went to sleep under a heavy cloak.
    Early the next morning, while the girls were again delving into their apparently bottomless basket, the train stopped at Las Vegas.
    “Look! Look!” cried Bo in thrilling voice. “ Cowboys! Oh, Nell, look!”
    Helen, laughing, looked first at her sister and thought how best of all she was good to look at. Bo was little, instinct with pulsating life, and she had chestnut hair and dark blue eyes. These eyes were flashing, roguish, and they drew like magnets.
    Outside on the rude platform were railroad men, Mexicans, and a group of lounging cowboys. Long lean bowlegged fellows they were, with young frank faces and intent eyes. One of them seemed particularly attractive with his superb build, his red-bronze face and bright red scarf, his swinging gun, and the huge long curved spurs. Evidently he caught Bo’s admiring gaze for, with a word to his companions, he sauntered toward the window where the girls sat. His gait was singular, almost awkward, as if he was not accustomed to walking. The long spurs jingled musically. He removed his sombrero and stood at ease, frank, cool, smiling. Helen liked him on sight, and, looking to see what effect he had on Bo, she found that young lady staring, frightened, stiff.
    “Good mawnin’,” drawled the cowboy with slow good-humored smile. “Now where might you-all be travelin’?”
    The sound of his voice, the clean-cut and droll geniality seemed new and delightful to Helen.
    “We go to Magdalena…then take stage for the White Mountains,” replied Helen.
    The cowboy’s still intent eyes showed surprise. “Apache country, miss,” he said. “I reckon I’m sorry. Thet’s shore no place for you-all…. Beggin’ your pawdin…you ain’t Mormons?”
    “No. We’re nieces of Al Auchincloss,” rejoined Helen.
    “Wal, you don’t say! I’ve been down Magdalena way an’ heerd of Al…. Reckon you’re goin’ a-visitin’?”
    “It’s to be home for us.”
    “Shore thet’s fine! The West needs girls…. Yes, I’ve heered of Al. An old Arizona cattleman in a sheep country! Thet’s bad…. Now I’m wonderin’…if I’d drift down there an’ ask him for a job ridin’ for him…would I get it?”
    His lazy smile was infectious and his meaning was as clear as crystal water. The gaze he bent upon Bo somehow pleased Helen. The last year or two, since Bo had grown prettier all the time, she had been a magnet for admiring glances. This one of the cowboys inspired respect and liking, as well as amusement. It certainly was not lost upon