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2

Passion Conflict 130

XI. The Best Horse 142

XII. Smith Gets "Hunks" 156

XIII. Susie's Indian Blood 162

XIV. The Slayer of Mastodons 169

XV. Where a Man Gets a Thirst 190

XVI. Tinhorn Frank Smells Money 205

XVII. Susie Humbles Herself to Smith 213

XVIII. A Bad "Hombre" 228

XIX. When The Clouds Played Wolf 240

XX. The Love Medicine of the Sioux 248

XXI. The Murderer of White Antelope 272

XXII. A Mongolian Cupid 293

XXIII. In Their Own Way 303


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

"That Look in Your Eyes--That Look as if You Hadn't Nothin' to Hide--is it True?" Frontispiece

"She's a Game Kid, All Right," Said Smith to Himself at the Top of the Hill. 22

It Meant Death--but it was Wet!--it was Water! 196

Smith Reached for the Trailing Rope and They Were Gone! 284

They Quirted Their Horses at Breakneck Speed In the Direction of the Bad Lands. 308


"ME--SMITH"

I

"ME--SMITH"

A man on a tired gray horse reined in where a dim cattle-trail dropped into a gulch, and looked behind him. Nothing was in sight. He half closed his eyes and searched the horizon. No, there was nothing--just the same old sand and sage-brush, hills, more sand and sage-brush, and then to the west and north the spur of the Rockies, whose jagged peaks were white with a fresh fall of snow. The wind was chill. He shivered, and looked to the eastward. For the last few hours he had felt snow in the air, and now he could see it in the dim, gray mist--still far off, but creeping toward him.

For the thousandth time, he wondered where he was. He knew vaguely that he was "over the line"--that Montana was behind him--but he was riding an unfamiliar range, and the peaks and hills which are the guide-boards of the West meant nothing to him. So far as he knew, he was the only human being within a hundred miles. His lips drew back in a half-grin and exposed a row of upper teeth unusually white and

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'Me-Smith', page 1
by Caroline Lockhart

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