Chapter I: Front Matter

[Frontispiece: "You!" she exclaimed. "You!"]

SUNDOWN SLIM

BY

HENRY HERBERT KNIBBS

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY

ANTON FISCHER

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY HENRY HERBERT KNIBBS

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Published May 1915

DEDICATED TO

EVERETT E. HARASZTHY

Contents

Chapter

ARIZONA
I. SUNDOWN IN ANTELOPE
II. THE JOKE
III. THIRTY MILES TO THE CONCHO
IV. PIE; AND SEPTEMBER MORN
V. ON THE CAÑON TRAIL
VI. THE BROTHERS
VII. FADEAWAY'S HAND
VIII. AT "THE LAST CHANCE"
IX. SUNDOWN'S FRIEND
X. THE STORM
XI. CHANCE--CONQUEROR
XII. A GIFT
XIII. SUNDOWN, VAQUERO
XIV. ON THE TRAIL TO THE BLUE
XV. THEY KILLED THE BOSS!
XVI. SUNDOWN ADVENTURES
XVII. THE STRANGER
XVIII. THE SHERIFF--AND OTHERS
XIX. THE ESCAPE
XX. THE WALKING MAN
XXI. ON THE MESA
XXII. WAIT!
XXIII. THE PEACEMAKER
XXIV. AN UNEXPECTED VISIT
XXV. VAMOSE, EH?
XXVI. THE INVADERS
XXVII. "JUST ME AND HER"
XXVIII. IMPROVEMENTS
XXIX. A MAN'S COUNTRY

List of Illustrations

"You!" she exclaimed. "You!" . . . " . . . _Frontispiece_

"God A'mighty, sech things is wrong."

Arizona

Across the wide, sun-swept mesas the steel trail of the railroad runs east and west, diminishing at either end to a shimmering blur of silver. South of the railroad these level immensities, rich in their season with ripe bunch-grass and grama-grass roll up to the barrier of the far blue hills of spruce and pine. The red, ragged shoulders of buttes blot the sky-line here and there; wind-worn and grotesque silhouettes of gigantic fortifications, castles and villages wrought by some volcanic Cyclops who grew tired of his labors, abandoning his unfinished task to the weird ravages of wind and weather.

In the southern hills the swart Apache hunts along historic trails o'er which red cavalcades once swept to the plundering of Sonora's herds. His sires and their flashing pintos have vanished to other hunting-grounds, and he rides the boundaries of his scant heritage, wrapped in sullen imaginings.

The cañons and the hills of this broad land are of heroic mould as are its men. Sons of the open, deep-chested, tall and straight, they ride like conquerors and walk--like bears. Slow to anger and quick to act, they carry their strength and health easily and with a dignity which no worn trappings, faded shirt, or flop-brimmed hat may obscure. Speak to one of them and his level gaze will travel to your feet and back again to your eyes. He may not know what you are, but he assuredly knows what you are not. He will answer you quietly and to the point. If you have been fortunate enough to have ridden range, hunted or camped with him or his kind, ask him, as he stands with thumb in belt and wide Stetson tilted back, the trail to heaven. He will smile and point toward the mesas and the mountains of his home. Ask him the trail to that other place with which he so frequently garnishes his conversation, and he will gravely point to the mesas and the hills again. And there you have Arizona.

SUNDOWN SLIM