The Ridin Kid from Powder River

Henry Herbert Knibbs
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Ridin' Kid from Powder River, by Henry Herbert Knibbs

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Title: The Ridin' Kid from Powder River
Author: Henry Herbert Knibbs
Illustrator: Stanley L. Wood and R. M. Brinkerhoff
Release Date: August 14, 2005 [EBook #16530]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIDIN' KID FROM POWDER RIVER ***

Produced by Al Haines

[Frontispiece: The Ridin' Kid]

THE RIDIN' KID FROM POWDER RIVER
By
HENRY HERBERT KNIBBS

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

BOSTON AND NEW YORK.
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
1919

COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY HENRY HERBERT KNIBBS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

CONTENTS
I. YOUNG PETE II. FIREARMS AND NEW FORTUNES III. A WARNING IV. JUSTICE V. A CHANGE OF BASE VI. NEW VISTAS VII. PLANS VIII. SOME BOOKKEEPING IX. ROWDY--AND BLUE SMOKE X. "TURN HIM LOOSE!" XI. POP ANNERSLEY'S BOY XII. IN THE PIT XIII. GAME XIV. THE KITTY-CAT XV. FOUR MEN XVI. THE OPEN HOLSTER XVII. A FALSE TRAIL XVIII. THE BLACK SOMBRERO XIX. THE SPIDER XX. BULL MALVEY XXI. BOCA DULZURA XXII. "A DRESS--OR A RING--PERHAPS" XXIII. THE DEVIL-WIND XXIV. "A RIDER STOOD AT THE LAMPLIT BAR" XXV. "PLANTED--OUT THERE" XXVI. THE OLLA XXVII. OVER THE LINE XXVIII. A GAMBLE XXIX. QUERY XXX. BRENT'S MISTAKE XXXI. FUGITIVE XXXII. EL PASO XXXIII. THE SPIDER'S ACCOUNT XXXIV. DORIS XXXV. "CAUGHT IT JUST IN TIME" XXXVI. WHITE-EYE XXXVII. "CLOSE THE CASES" XXXVIII. GETTING ACQUAINTED XXXIX. A PUZZLE GAME XL. THE MAN DOWNSTAIRS XLI. "A LAND FAMILIAR" XLII. "OH, SAY TWO THOUSAND" XLIII. A NEW HAT--A NEW TRAIL XLIV. THE OLD TRAIL XLV. HOME FOLKS XLVI. THE RIDIN' KID FROM POWDER RIVER

ILLUSTRATIONS
THE RIDIN' KID . . . . Colored Frontispiece
Drawn by Stanley L. Wood

"SAY, AIN'T WE PARDNERS?"
PETE
COTTON HEARD PETE'S HAND STRIKE THE BUTT OF HIS GUN AS THE HOLSTER TILTED UP
"OF A TRUTH, NO!" SAID BOCA, AND SHE SWUNG THE BOTTLE
Drawn by R. M. Brinkerhoff

The Ridin' Kid from Powder River
CHAPTER I
YOUNG PETE
With the inevitable pinto or calico horse in his string the horse-trader drifted toward the distant town of Concho, accompanied by a lazy cloud of dust, a slat-ribbed dog, and a knock-kneed foal that insisted on getting in the way of the wagon team. Strung out behind this indolently moving aggregation of desert adventurers plodded an indifferent lot of cayuses, their heads lowered and their eyes filled with dust.
Young Pete, perched on a saddle much too large for him, hazed the tired horses with a professional "Hi! Yah! Git in there, you doggone, onnery, three-legged pole-cat you!" A gratuitous command, for the three-legged pole-cat referred to had no other ambition than to shuffle wearily along behind the wagon in the hope that somewhere ahead was good grazing, water, and chance shade.
The trader was lean, rat-eyed, and of a vicious temper. Comparatively, the worst horse in his string was a gentleman. Horse-trading and whiskey go arm-in-arm, accompanied by their copartners, profanity and tobacco-chewing. In the right hand of the horse-trader is guile and in his left hand is trickery. And this squalid, slovenly-booted, and sombrero'd gentleman of the outlands lived down to and even beneath all the vicarious traditions of his kind, a pariah of the waste places, tolerated in the environs of this or that desert town chiefly because of Young Pete, who was popular, despite the fact that he bartered profanely for chuck at the stores, picketed the horses in pasturage already preempted by the natives, watered the horses where water was scarce and for local consumption only, and lied eloquently as to the qualities of his master's caviayard when a trade was in progress. For these manful services Young Pete received scant rations and much abuse.
Pete had been picked up in the town of Enright, where no one seemed to have a definite record of his immediate ancestry. He was quite willing to go with the trader, his only stipulation being that he be allowed to bring along his dog, another denizen of Enright whose ancestry was as vague as were his chances of getting a square meal a day. Yet the dog, despite lean rations, suffered less than Young Pete, for the dog trusted no man. Consequently he was just out of reach when the trader wanted to kick something. Young Pete was not always so fortunate. But he was not altogether unhappy. He had responsibilities, especially when the trader was drunk and the horses needed attention. Pete learned much profanity without realizing its significance. He also learned to chew tobacco and realized its immediate significance. He mastered the art, however, and became in his own estimation a man grown--a twelve-year-old man who could swear, chew, and show horses to advantage when
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