Justin Wingate, Ranchman
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Оглавление
Whitson John Harvey. Justin Wingate, Ranchman
BOOK ONE—THE PREPARATION
CHAPTER I. THE DREAMER AND THE DREAM
CHAPTER II. WINGATE JOURNEYS ON
CHAPTER III. CLAYTON’S VISITORS
CHAPTER IV. SIBYL
CHAPTER V. THE INVASION OF PARADISE
CHAPTER VI. WHEN LOVE WAS YOUNG
CHAPTER VII. WILLIAM SANDERS
CHAPTER VIII. AND MARY WENT TO DENVER
CHAPTER IX. A REVELATION OF CHARACTER
CHAPTER X. PIPINGS OF PAN
CHAPTER XI. THE TRAGEDY OF THE RANGE
CHAPTER XII. WITH SIBYL AND MARY
CHAPTER XIII. WHEN AMBITION CAME
CHAPTER XIV. IN THE STORM
CHAPTER XV. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING
CHAPTER XVI. BEN DAVISON’S TRIUMPH
BOOK TWO—THE BATTLE
CHAPTER I. COWARDICE AND HEROISM
CHAPTER II. THE HARVEST OF THE FIRE
CHAPTER III. LEES OF THE WINE
CHAPTER IV. IN THE WHIRLPOOL
CHAPTER V. HARKNESS AND THE SEER
CHAPTER VI. THE MOTH AND THE FLAME
CHAPTER VII. THE COMPACT
CHAPTER VIII. THE THRALL OF THE PAST
CHAPTER IX. SANDERS TELLS HIS STORY
CHAPTER X. IN THE CRUCIBLE
CHAPTER XI. FATHER AND SON
CHAPTER XII. CHANGING EVENTS
CHAPTER XIII. IN PARADISE VALLEY
CHAPTER XIV. THE DOWNWARD WAY
CHAPTER XV. MARY’S DESPAIR
CHAPTER XVI. THE WAGES OF SIN
CHAPTER XVII. SHADOWS BEFORE
CHAPTER XVIII. PHILOSOPHY GONE MAD
CHAPTER XIX. SIBYL AND CLAYTON
CHAPTER XX. THE RIDE WITH DEATH
CHAPTER XXI. RECONCILIATION
CHAPTER XXII. THE DREAMS THAT CAME TRUE
Отрывок из книги
Before swinging out of the saddle in front of the little school house which was serving as a church, Curtis Clayton, physician and philosopher, looked over the valley which held the story of a romantic hope and where he was to bury his own shattered dream. The rain of the morning had cleared away the bluish ground haze, the very air had been washed clean, and the land lay revealed in long levels and undulating ridges. Behind towered the mountain, washed clean, too, its flat top etched against the sky and every crag and peak standing out sharp and hard as a cameo.
Clayton’s broncho pawed restlessly on the edge of a grass-grown cellar. All about the tiny cluster of unoccupied houses were other grass-grown cellars, and the foundation lines of vanished buildings, marking the site of the abandoned town. Beside the school house, from which came now the sound of singing, horses were tied to a long hitching rack. A few farm wagons stood near, the unaccustomed mud drying on their wheels.
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“We think it is his hair,” said Wingate. “It was found beside the writing on the fly-leaf.”
Then while the boy crowded close against Clayton’s knees, and Clayton sat holding the open Bible in his hands, Wingate told the story of this child, who now bore the name of Justin Wingate.
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