Rider of the Mohave A Western Story

Excerpt: "e;It was three in the morning, but Geerusalem had not yet closed its eyes. There was too much undug gold in the hills; it was too handy-too easy come, easy go; the days, too short; the pleasures, too wanton, too alluring. The camp of Geerusalem promenaded, gambled, danced, fought, debauched the night away, waiting for to-morrow. Far out on desolate Soapweed Plains, rose the intermittent, yelping wail-bark of a coyote. The back door of a little store that fronted on the main street opened cautiously. The interior of what was a kitchen was dark; the flower-garden yard into which it gave, was also dark. The shadowy form of a man emerged and halted; he peered carefully about through the gloom. A smaller figure followed, pausing on the threshold-a woman, her white apron and snowy hair quite visible. The man turned, took her in his arms impulsively, and held her close to his breast."e;