The Lonesome Trail and Other Stories

The Lonesome Trail and Other
Stories

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by B. M. Bower
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Title: The Lonesome Trail and Other Stories
Author: B. M. Bower
Release Date: December 31, 2004 [eBook #14542]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
LONESOME TRAIL AND OTHER STORIES***
E-text prepared by Al Haines

THE LONESOME TRAIL AND OTHER STORIES
by
B. M. BOWER (B. M. SINCLAIR)
Author of Chip of the Flying U, The Range Dwellers, Her Prairie
Knight, The Lure of the Dim Trails, The Happy Family, The Long
Shadow, etc.
New York Grosset & Dunlap Publishers
1904

CONTENTS
THE LONESOME TRAIL
FIRST AID TO CUPID

WHEN THE COOK FELL ILL
THE LAMB
THE SPIRIT OF THE RANGE
THE REVELER
THE UNHEAVENLY TWINS

THE LONESOME TRAIL
PART ONE
A man is very much like a horse. Once thoroughly frightened by
something he meets on the road, he will invariably shy at the same
place afterwards, until a wisely firm master leads him perforce to the
spot and proves beyond all doubt that the danger is of his own
imagining; after which he will throw up his head and deny that he ever
was afraid--and be quite amusingly sincere in the denial.
It is true of every man with high-keyed nature, a decent opinion of
himself and a healthy pride of power. It was true of Will Davidson, of
the Flying U--commonly known among his associates, particularly the
Happy Family, as "Weary." As to the cause of his shying at a certain
object, that happened long ago. Many miles east of the Bear Paws, in
the town where Weary had minced painfully along the streets on pink,
protesting, bare soles before the frost was half out of the ground; had
yelled himself hoarse and run himself lame in the redoubtable base-ball
nine which was to make that town some day famous--the nine where
they often played with seven "men" because the other two had to "bug"
potatoes or do some other menial task and where the umpire frequently
engaged in throwing lumps of dried mud at refractory players,--there
had lived a Girl.
She might have lived there a century and Weary been none the worse,
had he not acquired the unfortunate habit of growing up. Even then he
might have escaped injury had he not persisted in growing up and up, a
straight six-feet-two of lovable good looks, with the sunniest of
tempers and blue eyes that reflected the warm sweetness of that nature,
and a smile to tell what the eyes left unsaid.
Such being the tempting length of him, the Girl saw that he was worth
an effort; she took to smoking the chimney of her bedroom lamp,
heating curling irons, wearing her best hat and best ribbons on a
weekday, and insisting upon crowding number four-and-a-half feet into

number three-and-a-half shoes and managing to look as if she were
perfectly comfortable. When a girl does all those things, and when she
has a good complexion and hair vividly red and long, heavy-lidded blue
eyes that have a fashion of looking side-long at a man, it were well for
that man to travel--if he would keep the lightness of his heart and the
sunny look in his eyes and his smile.
Weary traveled, but the trouble was that he did not go soon enough.
When he did go, his eyes were somber instead of sunny, and he smiled
not at all. And in his heart he carried a deep-rooted impulse to shy
always at women--and so came to resemble a horse.
He shied at long, blue eyes and turned his own uncompromisingly
away. He never would dance with a woman who had red hair, except in
quadrilles where he could not help himself; and then his hand-clasp
was brief and perfunctory when it came to "Grand right-and-left." If
commanded to "Balance-_swing_" the red-haired woman was swung
airily by the finger-tips--; which was not the way in which Weary
swung the others.
And then came the schoolma'am. The schoolma'am's hair was the
darkest brown and had a shine to it where the light struck at the proper
angle, and her eyes were large and came near being round, and they
were a velvety brown and also had a shine in them.
Still Weary shied consistently and systematically.
At the leap-year ball, given on New Year's night, when the ladies were
invited to "choose your pardners for the hull dance, regardless of who
brought