The Range Dwellers

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B. M. Bower. The Range Dwellers

CHAPTER I: The Reward of Folly

CHAPTER II: The White Divide

CHAPTER III: The Quarrel Renewed

CHAPTER IV: Through King's Highway

CHAPTER V: Into the Lion's Mouth

CHAPTER VI: I ask Beryl King to Dance

CHAPTER VII: One Day Too Late!

CHAPTER VIII: A Fight and a Race for Life

CHAPTER IX: The Old Life—and the New

CHAPTER X: I Shake Hands with Old Man King

CHAPTER XI: A Cable Snaps

CHAPTER XII: I Begin to Realize

CHAPTER XIII: We Meet Once More

CHAPTER XIV: Frosty Disappears

CHAPTER XV: The Broken Motor-car

CHAPTER XVI: One More Race

CHAPTER XVII: The Final Reckoning

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THE RANGE DWELLERS

B. M. BOWER

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I caught a car down to the Olympic, hunted up Barney MacTague, and played poker with him till two o'clock that night, and never once mentioned the trip I was contemplating. Then I went home, routed up my man, and told him what to pack, and went to bed for a few hours; if there was anything pleasant in my surroundings that I failed to think of as I lay there, it must be very trivial indeed. I even went so far as to regret leaving Ethel Mapleton, whom I cared nothing for.

And above all and beneath all, hanging in the background of my mind and dodging forward insistently in spite of myself, was a deep resentment—a soreness against dad for the way he had served me. Granted I was wild and a useless cumberer of civilization; I was only what my environments had made me. Dad had let me run, and he had never kicked on the price of my folly, or tried to pull me up at the start. He had given his time to his mines and his cattle-ranches and railroads, and had left his only son to go to the devil if he chose and at his own pace. Then, because the son had come near making a thorough job of it, he had done—this. I felt hardly used and at odds with life, during those last few hours in the little old burgh.

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