Wild Youth, Volume 1.

community is ready-made; where people from all points of the compass come together with all sorts of things behind them; where standards have at first no organized sanction

his indulgences, he not only remained a presen

aven, yields from the same soil both good and bad. He had none of that Puritanism which would ruthlessly root out the vines yielding the bad wine. To his mind that could only be done

tor visited Burlingame's office. Burlingame had only recently returned from England, whither he had gone on important legal business, which he had agree

case of one of the McMahon Gang for manslaughter connecte

dollars, with instructions to pay the amount in cash to Joel Mazarine; an

y, the late owner of Tralee, in connection with a legacy. This would involve some legal proceedings with considerable c

as the supreme interest of existence, apart from making a necessary living. He was the primitive and pernicious hunter. He had been discreet enough not to questio

ourt-house, was put under a light and skillful cross-examination. He had been of service to Burlingame more t

odys' fella with the face of a pirate! If there wasn't a better Protistan' than him in the world, t

s a footin' in a place, the locks can't be too manny to shut ye in whin ye want to sleep at night. That fella's got no pedigree, and if it wouldn't hurt some dacent woman, maybe, I'd say he was misbegotten. But still, I'll tell ye: out there at Tralee there's what'd have saved Sodom and Gomorrah-aye, that'd have saved Jerusalem, and there wouldn't ha' been a single moan

n't he tell me Joel Mazarine married first whin he was eighteen years of age; an' his daughter was married whin she was seventeen; an' her son was ma

m ridin' an old moke on errands for him whin his hired folks is busy. A man must live, and t

'luk' at her then," was Burli

rnaghan had left Burlin

ess was brief, and he

ngame

ralee-you know them? Th

d goat,

ral history I'm not able

dryly, "but

know her?" asked B

d. "Yes-in a pr

he bee

is il

s the

sked the Young Doctor with a quizzical eye and an acid note to his voice. "You've go

inued. "He wouldn't take Orlando Guise's cheque yesterday. He says he'll only be paid in hard cash. He's coming here this afternoon to get it. He's a crank, whatever else he is. They tell me he doesn't keep a bank account. If he gets a cheque,

y, I suppose. Considering the crimes tried at the court in this town, Mazarine's

ked Burlingam

d that gives opportunity to take cover. I hope your successful client of to-day, and his brothers, are not

me's lips. The medical man's dry allusi

e! A lot of people suspect those McMahons of being crooked. Well, it has

efit of the

he balance pretty fair 'twixt y

e's a rich man, I keep him alive! It pays. The difference between your friends the criminals and me is that probably nobody will ever be able to catch me out. Bu

to attend the worst man in the West, whoever he may be. Why, Burlingame, as your family physician, I shouldn't he

it was, and not to quarrel. Burlingame, on his part, had no desire for strife with the Young Doctor. He would make

's office. "I've come about that six thousand dollars Mr. Guise of Slow Down Ranch owes

cerning him. That, however, would not prejudice him greatly. Burlingame h

the money over at once," he said: "The receipt is ready. I assume y

iness, Mister," said

in two inner pockets of his shirt. It made him feel very warm and comforta

was deliberate on his part. He wanted an excuse to visit Tralee and see its mistress with his own eyes. He had attempted to pluck m

cquittal a couple of hours before. As was his custom, Mazarine gave the other a sharp, scrutinizing look, but he saw no one he knew; and he

all the countryside whom the McMahons did not know. It was their habit-or something else-to be familiar with the history of

h: that old Mazarine was to receive six thousand dollars in cash from Orlando Guise by the hands of Burlingame! Only that very morning, at the moment of hi

d be in the barber's shop for some time. With intense reflection in his eyes, McMahon entered Burlingame's office. He had come t

ee within a few moments-and would he take a chair? Thereupon, the clerk left the room. McMahon took a chair-not

take a seat near the open letters. As soon as the clerk left the room, a hairy h

s it was read, McMahon almost threw himself over to the chair at some distance from the desk, which the clerk had fir

the red-plush chair, tipped back at a convenient angle, was Mazarine undergoing the triple operations of shaving his upper lip, beard-trimming and haircutt

t he knew that he had not the faintest right to be happy. The girl who had so upset his self-control as to make him stumble on her doorstep was the wife of another man. It was, of course, silly to call him "another man," because he seemed a million miles away from any sphere in wh

that he had seen it make men do silly things, just as drink did. He did not know whether he was in love or not. It was abs

ther motive nor purpose behind it-just a thing almost feminine in its nature. As yet it was like the involuntary adoration which girls at a certain period of their lives feel successively for one hero after another. What

recreant thought or feeling existed. Each was a simple soul, as yet unspoiled and in one sense unsophisticated-the girl, however, with an instinctive caution, such as an animal pos

human emotion, which stirs the sluggish blood, revives the drooping spirit. There was a curious, delicate blueness of the sky over which an infinitely more delicate veil of mist was softly drawn. At many places on the prairie the haymakers were loading the great wagon

Company's Ranch and Tralee. To reach his own ranch, he had to cross it at an angl

lee trail, he suddenl

e sound came from was a

rie pioneer making for

as a tent whose owner

the cry for help had come. Something was undoubtedly wrong. The voi

rp, stinging pain in his side. Still urging his horse, he cleared the little circle of light

o his feet, mounted his horse, and was away into the night with his companion. Orland

rt you?" he asked, as he stooped over and caught th

a bullet hit the ground beside Orlando. Then he saw di

e dogs, the rogues, the thieves-but they didn't get it! It was in the pockets of my shirt." The old man was almost hy

the old man towards the camp- fire, himsel

to-day," gasped the old man, spasmodically; "but it's her

n revolted Orlando. He had a sudden ru

w the sound of his own voice was very weak. "Yes, I'm all

an, whose breath came almost normally

fire. He was leaning against his horse, and opening his coat and waistcoat to find the

hes? Say, you're all bloody!" excla

ky reply, and he gave a funny little

t you home?" Mazarine a

olt of a wagon. It was the pioneer-emig

azarine rode beside it. "It's only a few hundred yards to the house," said the emig

r any house," said the emigrant. "My horse has had enough to-day, and the sooner the lad's attende

hat's where you want him to go, ain't it?" asked the pio

want him to go," re

trail, and I'll follow," r

him?" he presently called t

was in the kitchen, where a half-breed woman was giving supper to Li Choo, a faithful Chinaman roustabout; the other was