Others, more aspiring, "roost" in the
hills. Gophertown squatted on the desert at the very edge of a range of
barren foothills. Its principal street was not much more than a
bridle-trail that led past eleven ramshackle cabins, derelicts of the
old mining days when Gophertown knew gold.
The population of Gophertown was of an itinerant order. This was not
always due to internecine disputes. Frequently a citizen became overbold
and visited his old haunts instead of remaining safely, even if
monotonously, at home. Train robbery was a sure passport to Gophertown's
protection. Man-killing lent an added distinction to an applicant for
hurried admission. Cattle-and horse-thieving were mere industries not to
be confounded with these higher professions.
Overland Red had once wintered in Gophertown. Immediately previous to
his arrival in Gophertown he had been obliged to maintain, in an
unofficial capacity, his former prestige as sheriff of Abilene. The town
of Abilene had sympathized with him heartily, but had advised him to
absent himself indefinitely and within the hour.
The general store and saloon of the old mining camp still stood at the
corner of the town facing the desert. A bleached and faded sign once
read, "Palace Emporium.
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