Barker's Luck and Other Stories (1896)

The publisher of this book utilises modern printing technologies as well as photocopying processes for reprinting and preserving rare works of literature that are out-of-print or on the verge of becoming lost. This book is one such reprint.

CONTENTS. IBARKERS LTICK . 1 YELLOW DOG . . . . . . . 44 JA A MOTHER OF FIVE 63 IBULGERS REPUTATION 80 IX THE TULES 104 IA CONVERT OF THE MISSION .... 141 Tgg INDISCIIETIO ov ELSBKTH . . . . 182 . THE DEVOTION OF ENRIQUEZ .... 216 BARKERS LUCK. to A BIRD twittered The morning sun shining through the open window was ap parently more potent than the cool moun tain air, which had only caused the sleeper to curl a little more tightly in his blankets. Barkers eyes opened instantly upon the light and the bird on the window ledge. Like all healthy young animals he would have tried to sleep again, but with his mo- mentary consciousness came the recollection that it was his turn to cook the breakfast that morning, and he regretfully rolled out 1 of his bunk to the floor. Without stopping to dress he opened the door and stepped outside, secure in the knowledge that he was overlooked only by the Sierras, and plunged his head and shoulders in the bucket of cold water that stood by the door. Then he be gan to clothe himself, partly in the cabin and . partly in the open air, with a lapse between the putting on of his trousers and coat which he employed in bringing in wood. Raking together the few embers on the adobe hearth, not without a prudent regard to the rattle snake which had once been detected in haunting the warm ashes, he began to pre pare breakfast. By this time the other sleepers, his partners Stacy and Demorest, young men of about his own age, were awake, alert, and lazily critical of his pro gress. I dont care about my quail on toast being underdone for breakfast, said Stacy, with a yawn and you need nt serve with red wine. I m not feeling very peckish this morning. And I reckon you canknock off the fried oysters after the Spanish mackerel for me said Demorest gravely. The fact is, that last bottle of Veuve Clicquot we had for supper was nt as dry as I am this morn- ing. Accustomed to these regular Barmecide suggestions, Barker made no direct reply. Presently, looking up from the fire, he said, There s no more saleratus, so you must nt blame me if the biscuit is extra heavy. told you we had none when you went to the grocery yesterday. And I told you we had nt a red cent to buy any with, said Stacy, who was also treasurer. Put these two negatives to gether and you make the affirmative saleratus. Mix freely and bake in a hot oven. Nevertheless, after a toilette as primitive as Barkers they sat down to what he had prepared, with the keen appetite begotten of the mountain air and the regretful fasti diousness born of the recollection of better things. Jerked beef, frizzled with salt pork in a frying-pan, boiled potatoes, biscuit, and coffee composed the repast. The bis cuits, however, proving remarkably heavy after the first mouthful, were used as mis siles, thrown through the open door at an empty bottle, which had previously served as a mark for revolver practice, and a few moments later pipes were lit to counteract the effects of the meal and take the taste out of their mouths. Suddenly they heard the sound of horses hoos, saw the quick passage of a rider in the open space before the cabin, and felt the smart impact upon the table of some small object thrown by . him...