Sunset Pass (1990) Read Online Free PDF Page A

town, Rock reached the top of a long slope and there halted the horses.
    A 30-mile gulf yawned wide and shallow, a yellow-green sea of desert grass and sage, which sloped into ridge on ridge of cedar and white grass. The length of the valley both east and west extended beyond the limit of vision, and here began the vast, cattle range that made Wagontongue possible. Lonely land! Rock's heart swelled. He, was coming back to the valleys and hills that he now discovered he had loved.
    An hour's ride down the slow incline brought Rock into a verdant swale of 50 acres surrounding a pretty ranch-house. Here Adam Pringle had lived.
    The barn and corrals were closer to the road than the house. Rock saw a man at work under an open shed. The big gate leading in was shut. Rock halloed, whereupon the farmer started out leisurely, then quickened his steps. It was Adam--stalwart, middle-aged, weather-beaten settler.
    "True Rock, or I'm a born sinner," shouted Pringle.
    "Howdy, Adam! How's the old-timer?" returned; Rock.
    "I knowed that hoss. An' I shore knowed you jest from the way you straddled him. How air you? This is plumb a surprise. Get down an' come in."
    "Haven't time, Adam. I'm rustlin' along to make camp below. Adam, you're lookin' good. I see you've made this homestead go."
    "Never seen you look any better, if I remember. Whar you been?"
    "Texas."
    "Whar you goin'?"
    "Sunset Pass."
    "Cowboy, if you want work, pile right off heah."
    "Thanks, Adam, but I've got a hankerin' for wilder country. I'll try Preston. Think he'll take me?"
    "Shore. But don't ask him."
    "Why not?"
    "I'm advisin' you--not talkin'," returned the rancher, with a sharp gleam in his eye. "Stay away from Sunset, Pass."
    "Adam, I just never could take advice," drawled Rock. "Much obliged, though. How you doin'?"
    "Been on my feet these two years," returned Pringle, with, satisfaction. "Been raisin' turnips an potatoes an' some corn. Got three thousand haid of stock. An' sellin' eight-' hundred haid this fall."
    "Losin' much stock?"
    "Some. But not enough to rare aboot. Though there's more rustlin' than for some years past. Queer rustlin', too. You lose a few haid of steers, an' then you never hear of anyone seein' hide nor hair of them again."
    "How's Jess Slagle? I used to ride for Jess, and want to see him."
    "Humph! Slagle couldn't make it go in Sunset Pass after the Prestons come."
    "Why not? It's sure big enough country for ten outfits."
    "Wal there's only one left, an' thet's Preston's. Ask Slagle."
    "I sure will. Is he still located in the Pass?"
    "No. He's ten miles this side. Stone cabin. You'll remember it."
    "If I do, that's no ranch for Jess Slagle. Marshland, what there was of it fit to graze cattle, salty water, mostly rocks and cedars."
    "Your memory's good. Drop in to see Slagle. An' don't miss callin' heah when you come out."
    "Which you're thinkin' won't be so very long. Huh, Adam?"
    "Wal, if it was anyone else I'd give him three days--aboot," replied Pringle, with a guffaw.
    Toward sundown Rock reached the south slope of the valley and entered the zone of the cedars. He halted for camp near a rugged little creek.
    He was on his way before sunrise the next morning, and about noon he halted before the cabin that he knew must belong to his old friend and employer, Jess Slagle. Rock rode into what was a sorry excuse for a yard, where fences were down and dilapidated wagons, long out of use, stood around amid a litter of stones and wood.
    Dismounting, Rock went to the door and knocked. The door opened half a foot to disclose a red-haired, homely woman in dirty garb, more like a sack than a dress.
    "Does Jess Slagle live here?" asked Rock.
    "Yes. He's out round the barn somewheres," she replied.
    As Rock thanked her he sew that she was barefooted. So Jess Slagle had come to squalor, and poverty. Who was the woman? Presently Rock heard the sound of hammer or axe blows on wood, and he came upon Slagle at work on a pen beside the barn.
    "Howdy, Rock! I