



Produced by Al Haines









[Frontispiece: "SHE'S MY GIRL!"]





THE WESTERNERS


By

Stewart Edward White




NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP




Copyright, 1900 and 1901, by

STEWART EDWARD WHITE



THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK




CONTENTS


      I. THE HALF-BREED
     II. THE WOMAN
    III. THE MAN WHO STOOD "99"
     IV. ALFRED USES HIS SIX-SHOOTER
      V. LAFOND DESERTS
     VI. THE WOMAN AND THE MAN
    VII. THE REINS OF POWER
   VIII. THE MAKING OF A HOSTILE
     IX. THE BROTHER OF GODS
      X. THE PRICE OF A CLAIM
     XI. THE BEGINNING OF LAFOND'S REVENGE
    XII. THE LEOPARD AND HIS SPOTS
   XIII. THE DISSOLVING VIEW
    XIV. INTO THE SHADOW OF THE HILLS
     XV. IN WHICH CHEYENNE HARRY LOSES HIS PISTOL
    XVI. AND GETS IT BACK AGAIN
   XVII. BLACK MIKE MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE AND STARTS A COLLECTION
  XVIII. TIRED WINGS
    XIX. THE BROAD WHITE ROAD
     XX. THE EATING OF THE APPLE
    XXI. LAFOND MAKES A FRIEND
   XXII. IN WHICH THE TENDERFEET CONDUCT A SHOOTING MATCH AND
           GLORIFY PETER
  XXIII. A FOOL FOR LUCK
   XXIV. BILLY STARTS IN ON HIS FIFTY THOUSAND
    XXV. JACK GRAHAM SPEAKS OUT
   XXVI. AND HAS TO GO TO WORK
  XXVII. PROSPERITY
 XXVIII. LAFOND GOES EAST
   XXIX. BISMARCK ANNE ARRIVES
    XXX. ANCESTRAL VOICES
   XXXI. LAFOND'S FIRST CARD
  XXXII. IN WHICH THERE IS SOME SHOOTING
 XXXIII. FUTILITY
  XXXIV. LOVE'S EYES UNBANDAGED
   XXXV. OUT OF THE PAST
  XXXVI. UNDER THE ETERNAL STARS
 XXXVII. ASHES




ILLUSTRATIONS


"SHE'S MY GIRL!".................. _Frontispiece_

A SIOUX COUNCIL

THAT BABY CRY, "MAMA!"

"COME ACROSS, OR I'LL..."

"WATCH ME HIT THAT SQUIRREL!"

JIM PUT UP A GOOD FIGHT.

"ARE YOU STILL MAD?"

"MY LITTLE MOLLY," HE CHOKED.




I

THE HALF-BREED

A tourist of to-day, peering from the window of his vestibule train at
the electric-lit vision of Three Rivers, as it stars the banks of the
Missouri like a constellation against the blackness of the night, would
never recognize, in the trim little modern town, the old Three Rivers
of the early seventies.

To restore the latter, he should first of all sweep the ground bare of
the buildings which now adorn it, leaving, perhaps, here and there an
isolated old shanty of boards far advanced toward dissolution.  He
would be called upon to substitute, in place of the brick stores and
dwellings of to-day, a motley collection of lean-tos, dug-outs, tents,
and shacks, scattered broadcast over the virgin prairie without the
slightest semblance of order.  Where the Oriole furniture factory now
stands, he must be prepared to see--and hear--a great drove of horses
and oxen feeding on bottom-land grass.  And for the latter-day
citizens, whose police record is so discouraging to the ambitious
chief, and so creditable to themselves, he must imagine a multitude
more heterogeneous, perhaps, than could be gathered anywhere else in
the world--tenderfeet from the East; mountaineers from Tennessee and
Kentucky, bearing their historic long pea rifles; soft-voiced
Virginians; keen, alert woodsmen from the North; wiry, silent trappers
and scouts from the West; and here and there a straight Indian,
stalking solemnly toward some one of the numerous "whiskey joints."
The court-house site he would find crowded with canvas wagons, noisy
with the shrill calling of women and children.  Where Judge Oglethorpe
has recently erected his stone mansion, Frank Byers would be running a
well-patronized saloon.  Were he to complete the picture by placing
himself mentally at