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Knibbs, Henry Herbert

"ñon Trail"

The board votes unanimous to invest the paid-in
capital in a suit of new jeans for the president, which was me. I got
'em on now. You see, I had to be dollied up to look the part so I could
catch a come-on and get me grubstake."
"I see," said Winthrop, his gray eyes twinkling. "And I was the
come-on?"
"Well," said Overland, scratching his head, "mebby you _was_, but you
ain't no more. If she pans out anything like I expect, you'll be
standin' up so clost to bein' rich that if she was a bronc' you'd get
kicked sure."
They rested for a few minutes, both gazing down on the evening desert.
The reflected light, strong and clear, drew abrupt, keen-edged contrasts
between the black, triangular shadows of the peaks and the gray of the
range. Something elusive, awesome, unreal was in the air about them. The
rugged mountain-side with its chaos of riven boulders, its forest of
splintered rocky spires, silver cold in the twilight, its impassive bulk
looming so large, yet a mere segment in the circling range, was as a
day-dream of some ancient Valhalla, clothed in the mystic glory of
ever-changing light, and crowned with slumbering clouds.
Winthrop sighed as he again faced the range.


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