The Winning of Barbara Worth

o the galvanized iron water bucket dangling from the tail of the reach back of the rear axle the outfit wore an unmistakable air of prosperity. The wagon was loaded only with a

d canteen. Behind the driver there was another seat of the same wide, comfortable type, bu

s outfit in camp that night, saving thus at least another half day for business in San Felipe. Jefferson Worth, as he him

r tingles with the electricity of commerce as men from all lands, driven

ation is thinnest, on the Colorado River, miles beyond the Coast Range Mountains, on the farther side

y, there was only a rude trail--two hundred and more hard and lonely miles of it--the only mark of man in all t

m the harbor where the laden ships meet the long trains that come and go on their continental errands; it cried loudly from the busy streets of village and town and laughed out from field and orchard. But always the road led toward tho

reeping bit of life on the hard old trail was forgotten by the busy world behind, even

s the hills themselves. Slouching easily in his seat he gave heed only to his team and to the road ahead. When he spoke to the mules his voice was a soft, good-natured drawl, as though he spoke from out a pleasing reverie, and though his words were often hard words they were carried to the animals on an under-

going over the grade. The same instant the wheel team repeated the maneuver, but not so quickly, as the slouching figure on the seat sprang into action. A quick strong pull

nd his right dropped to his hip. With a motion too quick for the eye to follow the free arm straightened and the mountain echoed wildly to the

followed by a thick stream of oaths in an unmistakably Irish voice. The driver, who was slipping a fresh cartridge into

ders and deep chest, with arms to match his legs, were so huge as to appear almost grotesque; his round head, with its tumbled thatch of sandy hair, was set on a thick bull-neck; while all over the big bones of him the hard muscles lay in visible knots and bunches. The unsteady poise, the red

e Irishman demanded: "Fwhat the hell do ye mane, dishturbin' the peace wid y

that hung over the side of the wagon fastened by its canvas strap to the se

of prodigious length he heaved a long sigh and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he turned his fierce eyes

coarse shirt. A red bandana was knotted easily about his throat. With his wide, high-crowned hat, rough trousers tucked in long boots, laced-leather wrist guards and the loosely buckled cartridge belt with it

lly he felt through pocket after pocket. His search was rewarded by a short-stemmed clay pipe and the half of a match--nothing more. With an effort he explored the pockets of his trousers. Then again he searched the coat; muttering to himself broken sentences

ed the sack to its owner and struck the half- match along one post-like leg. Shielding the tiny flame with his hands before applying the light he remarked thoughtfully: "Ye are a danged reckless fool to be so dishturbin'

in the nick of time, he deliberately shared the half-match with his blustering companion. In that instant the blue eyes above the

olly! Jack! Pete!" The mules heaved ahead. Again the silence of the world-old hills was shatte

weight at every jolt of the wheels, while from under his tattered hat rim his fierce eyes look

l silent driver, he gazed at him for a full minute before saying, with elaborate mock formality: "It may be, Sorr, that bein' ye are sich a hell a

her answered: "Sure. That ther

oks that same. Where did ye

City. This here is the

be nowhere at all. Well, well, ut's news av intherest to me. _We_ are goin' to Ru

e in this here wago

e two good eyes in me head that can see yer danged old wagon for meself, an' fwhat's more I've two good hands that can break ye in bits for the impedent dried herrin' that ye are, a-thinkin' ye can take me anywhere at

faced man. "I don't reckon you

e, he faced his companion--his blue eyes twinkling with positive approval. Scratching his head meditatively, he said: "An' all because av me wantin' to enjoy the

oftly. "You was sure e

with quickened interest.

s the laco

with a puzzled air. "I disremimber e

ed. "Things was

stly they do under thim circumstances. Av c

he man with th

thim might, av ut was handy-like, but five--niver! Tell me, man, who else was at the party? No--howld on a minut!" He i

iver n

n' I was havin' a peaceful dhrink wid thim all whin somewan made impedent remar

eneral an' the present company in particular, I see right there that you was a-bitin' off more 'n you could chaw. It wasn't no way reasonable that any human could handle that whole outfit with only just his bare hands, so I edged over your way, plumb edified by your remarks, and when the rush for the mourners' bench come I unlimbered an' headed the stampede pronto. Then I made my little proposition. I told 'em that, bein' the only individual on the premises not a sailor-man nor an Irishman, I felt

. "An' me too dhrunk to remimber rightly! Did they take y

the driver. "I had my g

me quick--did I do ut? Sure I c

f the three, then the police calle

nched th

ook you

wo. 'Tis thim San Felipe police knows

incapacitated by one o' them hittin' me with a

wn noodle that 'tis like helps to exshplain the cell. But fwhat in the divil's name brung us h

me disinclined to leave you under the circumstances, Mr. Worth fixed it up for you, too, then we all jest throwed you in and fetched you along. Mr. Worth with the other man and his kid are comin' on in a buckboard. They'll catch up with us where we camp to-night. I don't mind sayin' that I plumb admired your spirit and action and--sizin' up that police bunch--I could see

e to admit that there are occasions. Anyhow ye handle ut wid grace an' intilligence. An', fists er shticks, er knives, er guns, that's the thing that marks the man. 'Tis not Patrick Mooney that'll fault a

is Joe Brannin. They call me

d fish, an' ye have the right flavor. How could ye help ut? Brannin an' Texas is handles

from the talk that he is one o' them there civil engineers, an' that he's headin' for Rubio City to build the railroad that's goin' through to the co

his mouth, asked with deliberation: "An' do ye mane to tell me that this p

din' into Rubio Cit

nows me--this engineer--is he a fine, big, up-sta

gs," drawled Tex, "but the

sco, where I went the last time I drawed me pay, that he was like to be on the S. an' C. extension. 'Twas that tha

hat you c

s like yersilf learn how to use the wather that's in the rivers for irrigation. I've heard him say mesilf that hundreds av thousands av acres av these big deserts will be turned into farms, an' all that be what he calls 'Reclamation.'

houghtfully, "but he's sure some off on that there dese

But lave ut go. 'Tis not the likes av me an' you that's qualified to give judgment on sich janiuses as the Seer,

m travel. A man'll sure need somethin' more hefty than le

But fwhat's this yer tellin' me about a kid? The S

rd; but he's sure got togethe

gurl, o

a ten-year-o

as me, or you, now--but the Seer! It's danged quare! But tell me, fwhat's this man, yer bo

glanced at him uneasily several times. At last the driver dra

"But fwhat

he trail leads along the side of a canyon to its head. Far bel

an must do

ake out Jefferson W

are for the cards mesilf, but a

nd. He's one o' these here financierin' sports, an' so fa

he's a

to have in his clothes. Then the posse'd get after you an' mebbe string you up, which was all right, bein' part of the game. Now these fellows like Jefferson Worth, they get's your name on some writin's an' when you ain't lookin' they slips up an' gets away with all your worldly possessions, an' the sheriff he jest laughs an' says hits good business. This here Worth man is jest about the coolest, smoothest, hard

iers that have brung ye the railroads, an' the cities, an' the schools, an' the churches, an' all the other blessin's an' joys of civilization that ye've got to take

ear the spring at the head of the canyon. "We camp here," he announced. "This is the last water we strike until we make it ov

he banker, with his tw

road, with the head and chin of a soldier, and the brown eyes of a dreamer. He was dressed in rough cordu

nd. "Well, dang me but ut's glad I am to see ye, Sorr, in this divil's own land. I had me natural doubts,

ugh awoke the echoes in the c

ve yer bhoy wid ye? Sure I niver knew that ye was a man av family." He looked toward the slender lad who, with the readiness of a

that country for the S. and C. last year. He was born in the camp and his mother died when he was a baby. God knows how he pulled through! You know what those mining places are. His father,

nderin' impedence about yer bein' a man av family. I'm a danged old

s suit of gray seemed altogether out of place in the wild surroundings. His smooth-shaven face was an expressionless gray mask and his deep-set gray eyes turned from the Irishman to the engineer without a hint of emotion. The two men felt that somewhere behind that gray mas

rmit me to introduce Mr. Patrick Mooney whom I have known for years as the best boss of a grading

t of the Seer's formality. Jefferson Worth, from behind his gray mask, said

spered hoarsely: "Now fwhat the hell kind av a man is that? 'Tis the truth, Sorr, that w