Sundown Slim

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Sundown Slim

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sundown Slim, by Henry Hubert
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Title: Sundown Slim
Author: Henry Hubert Knibbs
Illustrator: Anton Fischer
Release Date: July 20, 2005 [EBook #16334]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUNDOWN
SLIM ***

Produced by Al Haines

[Frontispiece: "You!" she exclaimed. "You!"]

SUNDOWN SLIM
BY
HENRY HERBERT KNIBBS

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
ANTON FISCHER

NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY HENRY HERBERT KNIBBS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published May 1915

DEDICATED TO
EVERETT E. HARASZTHY

Contents
Chapter

ARIZONA
I. SUNDOWN IN ANTELOPE II. THE JOKE III. THIRTY MILES
TO THE CONCHO IV. PIE; AND SEPTEMBER MORN V. ON THE
CAÑON TRAIL VI. THE BROTHERS VII. FADEAWAY'S HAND
VIII. AT "THE LAST CHANCE" IX. SUNDOWN'S FRIEND X. THE
STORM XI. CHANCE--CONQUEROR XII. A GIFT XIII.
SUNDOWN, VAQUERO XIV. ON THE TRAIL TO THE BLUE XV.
THEY KILLED THE BOSS! XVI. SUNDOWN ADVENTURES XVII.
THE STRANGER XVIII. THE SHERIFF--AND OTHERS XIX. THE
ESCAPE XX. THE WALKING MAN XXI. ON THE MESA XXII.
WAIT! XXIII. THE PEACEMAKER XXIV. AN UNEXPECTED
VISIT XXV. VAMOSE, EH? XXVI. THE INVADERS XXVII. "JUST
ME AND HER" XXVIII. IMPROVEMENTS XXIX. A MAN'S
COUNTRY

List of Illustrations
"You!" she exclaimed. "You!" . . . " . . . Frontispiece "God A'mighty,
sech things is wrong."

Arizona
Across the wide, sun-swept mesas the steel trail of the railroad runs east
and west, diminishing at either end to a shimmering blur of silver.
South of the railroad these level immensities, rich in their season with
ripe bunch-grass and grama-grass roll up to the barrier of the far blue
hills of spruce and pine. The red, ragged shoulders of buttes blot the
sky-line here and there; wind-worn and grotesque silhouettes of
gigantic fortifications, castles and villages wrought by some volcanic
Cyclops who grew tired of his labors, abandoning his unfinished task to
the weird ravages of wind and weather.
In the southern hills the swart Apache hunts along historic trails o'er
which red cavalcades once swept to the plundering of Sonora's herds.

His sires and their flashing pintos have vanished to other
hunting-grounds, and he rides the boundaries of his scant heritage,
wrapped in sullen imaginings.
The cañons and the hills of this broad land are of heroic mould as are
its men. Sons of the open, deep-chested, tall and straight, they ride like
conquerors and walk--like bears. Slow to anger and quick to act, they
carry their strength and health easily and with a dignity which no worn
trappings, faded shirt, or flop-brimmed hat may obscure. Speak to one
of them and his level gaze will travel to your feet and back again to
your eyes. He may not know what you are, but he assuredly knows
what you are not. He will answer you quietly and to the point. If you
have been fortunate enough to have ridden range, hunted or camped
with him or his kind, ask him, as he stands with thumb in belt and wide
Stetson tilted back, the trail to heaven. He will smile and point toward
the mesas and the mountains of his home. Ask him the trail to that
other place with which he so frequently garnishes his conversation, and
he will gravely point to the mesas and the hills again. And there you
have Arizona.

SUNDOWN SLIM
CHAPTER I
SUNDOWN IN ANTELOPE
Sundown Slim, who had enjoyed the un-upholstered privacy of a
box-car on his journey west from Albuquerque, awakened to realize
that his conveyance was no longer an integral part of the local freight
which had stopped at the town of Antelope, and which was now
rumbling and grumbling across the Arizona mesas. He was mildly
irritated by a management that gave its passengers such negligent
service. He complained to himself as he rolled and corded his blankets.
However, he would disembark and leave the car to those base uses for
which corporate greed, and a shipper of baled hay, intended it. He was
further annoyed to find that the door of the car had been locked since

he had taken possession. Hearing voices, he hammered on the door.
After an exchange of compliments with an unseen rescuer, the door
was pushed back and he leaped to the ground. He was a bit surprised to
find, not the usual bucolic agent of a water-plug station, but a belted
and booted rider of the mesas;