The Dude Wrangler

The Dude Wrangler, by Caroline
Lockhart,

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Title: The Dude Wrangler
Author: Caroline Lockhart

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Language: English
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THE DUDE WRANGLER
by
CAROLINE LOCKHART
Frontispiece by Dudley Glyne Summers

[Illustration: "Wallie swung the frying pan with all his strength ...
knocking the six-shooter from Boise Bill's hand as he jumped across
the fire at him"]

Garden City, N. Y., And Toronto Doubleday, Page & Company 1921
Copyright, 1921, by Doubleday, Page & Company All Rights Reserved,
Including That of Translation into Foreign Languages, Including the
Scandinavian
Copyright, 1921, by Street & Smith Corporation

CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Girl from Wyoming 3 II. "The Happy Family" 10 III. "Pinkey"
18 IV. The Brand of Cain 24 V. "Gentle Annie" 33 VI. "Burning His
Bridges" 42 VII. His "Gat" 47 VIII. Neighbours 62 IX. Cutting His
Eyeteeth 69 X. The Best Pulling Team in the State 81 XI. Merry

Christmas 92 XII. The Water Witch 112 XIII. Wiped Out 131 XIV.
Lifting a Cache 142 XV. Collecting a Bad Debt 156 XVI. The Exodus
168 XVII. Counting Their Chickens 176 XVIII. The Millionaires 182
XIX. A Shock for Mr. Canby 196 XX. Wallie Qualifies as a First-Class
Hero 207 XXI. "Worman! Worman!" 221 XXII. "Knocking 'Em for a
Curve!" 231 XXIII. Rifts 247 XXIV. Hicks the Avenger 261 XXV.
"And Just Then----" 301

THE DUDE WRANGLER
CHAPTER I
THE GIRL FROM WYOMING
Conscious that something had disturbed him, Wallie Macpherson
raised himself on his elbow in bed to listen. For a full minute he heard
nothing unusual: the Atlantic breaking against the sea-wall at the foot
of the sloping lawn of The Colonial, the clock striking the hour in the
tower of the Court House, and the ripping, tearing, slashing noises like
those of a sash-and-blind factory, produced through the long, thin nose
of old Mr. Penrose, two doors down the hotel corridor, all sounds to
which he was too accustomed to be awakened by them.
While Wallie remained in this posture conjecturing, the door between
the room next to him and that of Mr. Penrose was struck smartly
several times, and with a vigour to denote that there was temper behind
the blows which fell upon it. He had not known that the room was
occupied; being considered undesirable on account of the audible
slumbers of the old gentleman it was often vacant.
The raps finally awakened even Mr. Penrose, who demanded sharply:
"What are you doing?"
"Hammering with the heel of my slipper," a feminine voice answered.
"What do you want?"

"A chance to sleep."
"Who's stopping you?" crabbedly.
"You're snoring." Indignation gave an edge to the accusation.
"You're impertinent!"
"You're a nuisance!" the voice retorted. Wallie covered his mouth with
his hand and hunched his shoulders.
There was a moment's silence while Mr. Penrose seemed to be thinking
of a suitable answer. Then:
"It's my privilege to snore if I want to. This is my room--I pay for it!"
"Then this side of the door is mine and I can pound on it, for the same
reason."
Mr. Penrose sneered in the darkness: "I suppose you're some sour old
maid--you sound like it."
"And no doubt you're a Methuselah with dyspepsia!"
Wallie smote the pillow gleefully--old Mr. Penrose's collection of
bottles and boxes and tablets for indigestion were a byword.
"We will see about this in the morning," said Mr. Penrose, significantly.
"I have been coming to this hotel for twenty-eight years----"
"It's nothing to boast of," the voice interrupted. "I shouldn't, if I had so
little originality."
Mr. Penrose, seeming to realize that the woman would have the last
word if the dialogue lasted until morning, ended it with a loud snort of
derision.
He was so wrought up by the controversy that he was unable to
compose himself immediately, but lay awake for an hour framing a

speech for Mr. Cone, the proprietor, which was in the nature of an
ultimatum. Either the woman must move, or he would--but the latter he
considered a remote possibility, since he realized fully that a
multi-millionaire, socially well connected, is an asset