The Light of Western Stars | Page 3

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The Light of Western Stars
by Zane Grey

Contents
I. A Gentleman of the Range II. A Secret Kept III. Sister and Brother
IV. A Ride From Sunrise to Sunset V. The Round-up VI. A Gift and a
Purchase VII. Her Majesty's Rancho VIII. El Capitan IX. The New
Foreman X. Don Carlo's Vaqueros XI. A Band of Guerrillas XII.
Friends from the East XIII. Cowboy Golf XIV. Bandits XV. The
Mountain Trail XVI. The Crags XVII. The Lost Mine of the Padres
XVIII.Bonita XIX. Don Carlos XX. The Sheriff of El Cajon XXI.

Unbridled XXII. The Secret Told XXIII.The Light of Western Stars
XXIV. The Ride XXV. At the End of the Road

The Light of Western Stars

I A Gentleman of the Range
When Madeline Hammond stepped from the train at El Cajon, New
Mexico, it was nearly midnight, and her first impression was of a huge
dark space of cool, windy emptiness, strange and silent, stretching
away under great blinking white stars.
"Miss, there's no one to meet you," said the conductor, rather anxiously.
"I wired my brother," she replied. "The train being so late-- perhaps he
grew tired of waiting. He will be here presently. But, if he should not
come--surely I can find a hotel?"
"There's lodgings to be had. Get the station agent to show you. If you'll
excuse me--this is no place for a lady like you to be alone at night. It's a
rough little town--mostly Mexicans, miners, cowboys. And they
carouse a lot. Besides, the revolution across the border has stirred up
some excitement along the line. Miss, I guess it's safe enough, if you--"
"Thank you. I am not in the least afraid."
As the train started to glide away Miss Hammond walked towards the
dimly lighted station. As she was about to enter she encountered a
Mexican with sombrero hiding his features and a blanket mantling his
shoulders.
"Is there any one here to meet Miss Hammond?" she asked.
"No sabe, Senora," he replied from under the muffling blanket, and he
shuffled away into the shadow.

She entered the empty waiting-room. An oil-lamp gave out a thick
yellow light. The ticket window was open, and through it she saw there
was neither agent nor operator in the little compartment. A telegraph
instrument clicked faintly.
Madeline Hammond stood tapping a shapely foot on the floor, and with
some amusement contrasted her reception in El Cajon with what it was
when she left a train at the Grand Central. The only time she could
remember ever having been alone like this was once when she had
missed her maid and her train at a place outside of Versailles--an
adventure that had been a novel and delightful break in the prescribed
routine of her much-chaperoned life. She crossed the waiting-room to a
window and, holding aside her veil, looked out. At first she could
descry only a few dim lights, and these blurred in her sight. As her eyes
grew accustomed to the darkness she saw a superbly built horse
standing near the window. Beyond was a bare square. Or, if it was a
street, it was the widest one Madeline had ever seen. The dim lights
shone from low, flat buildings. She made out the dark shapes of many
horses, all standing motionless with drooping heads. Through a hole in
the window-glass came a cool breeze, and on it breathed a sound that
struck coarsely upon her ear--a discordant mingling of laughter and
shout, and the tramp of boots to the hard music of a phonograph.
"Western revelry," mused Miss Hammond, as she left the window.
"Now, what to do? I'll wait here. Perhaps the station agent will return
soon, or Alfred will come for me."
As she sat down to wait she reviewed the causes