Ben Blair

Ben Blair

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ben Blair, by Will Lillibridge This
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Title: Ben Blair The Story of a Plainsman
Author: Will Lillibridge
Release Date: February 24, 2006 [EBook #17844]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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BLAIR ***

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[Illustration: Florence touched his arm. "Ben," she pleaded, "Ben,
forgive me. I've hurt you. I can't say I love you." Page 114.]
BEN BLAIR THE STORY OF A PLAINSMAN
By WILL LILLIBRIDGE

Author of "Where the Trail Divides," etc.
A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
* * * * *
COPYRIGHT BY A. C. MCCLURG & CO. A. D. 1905
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London
All rights reserved
Published October 21, 1905 Second Edition October 28, 1905 Third
Edition November 29, 1905 Fourth Edition December 9, 1905 Fifth
Edition December 14, 1905 Sixth Edition February 28, 1907
* * * * *
To My Wife
* * * * *
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. IN RUDE BORDER-LAND 1 II. DESOLATION 9 III. THE BOX R
RANCH 23 IV. BEN'S NEW HOME 37 V. THE EXOTICS 44 VI.
THE SOIL AND THE SEED 53 VII. THE SANITY OF THE WILD
66 VIII. THE GLITTER OF THE UNKNOWN 74 IX. A RIFFLE OF
PRAIRIE 83 X. THE DOMINANT ANIMAL 94 XI. LOVE'S
AVOWAL 106 XII. A DEFERRED RECKONING 117 XIII. A SHOT
IN THE DARK 134 XIV. THE INEXORABLE TRAIL 148 XV. IN
THE GRIP OF THE LAW 164 XVI. THE QUICK AND THE DEAD
185 XVII. GLITTER AND TINSEL 193 XVIII. PAINTER AND
PICTURE 204 XIX. A VISITOR FROM THE PLAINS 217 XX.
CLUB CONFIDENCES 230 XXI. LOVE IN CONFLICT 242 XXII.
TWO FRIENDS HAVE IT OUT 258 XXIII. THE BACK-FIRE 270

XXIV. THE UPPER AND THE NETHER MILLSTONES 287 XXV.
OF WHAT AVAIL? 304 XXVI. LOVE'S SURRENDER 318
* * * * *

BEN BLAIR
CHAPTER I
IN RUDE BORDER-LAND
Even in a community where unsavory reputations were the rule, Mick
Kennedy's saloon was of evil repute. In a land new and wild, his
establishment was the wildest, partook most of the unsubdued,
unevolved character of its surroundings. There, as irresistibly as
gravitation calls the falling apple, came from afar and near--mainly
from afar--the malcontent, the restless, the reckless,
seeking--instinctively gregarious--the crowd, the excitement of the
green-covered table, the temporary oblivion following the gulping of
fiery red liquor.
Great splendid animals were the men who gathered there; hairy,
powerful, strong-voiced from combat with prairie wind and frontier
distance; devoid of a superfluous ounce of flesh, their trousers,
uniformly baggy at the knees, bearing mute testimony to the many
hours spent in the saddle; the bare unprotected skin of their hands and
faces speaking likewise of constant contact with sun and storm.
By the broad glow of daylight the place was anything but inviting. The
heavy bar, made of cottonwood, had no more elegance than the rude
sod shanty of the pioneer. The worn round cloth-topped tables,
imported at extravagant cost from the East, were covered with splashes
of grease and liquor; and the few fly-marked pictures on the walls were
coarsely suggestive. Scattered among them haphazard, in one instance
through a lithographic print, were round holes as large as a spike-head,
through which, by closely applying the eye, one could view the world

without. When the place was new, similar openings had been carefully
refilled with a whittled stick of wood, but the practice had been
discontinued; it was too much trouble, and also useless from the
frequency with which new holes were made. Besides, although
accepted with unconcern by habitués of the place, they were a source of
never-ending interest to the "tenderfeet" who occasionally appeared
from nowhere and disappeared whence they had come.
But at night all was different. Encircling the room with gleaming points
of light were a multitude of blazing candles, home-made from tallow of
prairie cattle. The irradiance, almost as strong as daylight, but radically
different, softened all surrounding objects. The prairie dust, penetrating
with the wind, spread itself everywhere. The reflection from cheap
glassware, carefully polished, made it appear of costly make; the
sawdust of the floor seemed a downy covering; the crude heavy chairs,
an imitation of the artistic furniture of our fathers. Even the face of
bartender Mick, with its stiff unshaven red beard and its single
eye,--merciless as an electric headlight,--its broad flaming scar leading
down from the blank socket of its mate, became less repulsive under