Grey Majesty's Rancho

1. Auflage 2017
ISBN: 978-83-8115-836-7
Verlag: Ktoczyta.pl
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 344 Seiten

'Majesty's Rancho' is the sequel to 'The Light of Western Stars', both by Zane Grey. Here we meet the next generation at the ranch. It is wild with college age fun and a mix of gangsters meeting the old west. After Lance Sidway comes to the defense of beautiful Madge Stewart and ends up on the wrong side of the law, he escapes to Arizona and finds work on her father's ranch. Fate certainly seems to want these two together However, gangsters are rustling cattle from Stewart's ranch and the leader, Honey Bee Uhl, has a thing for Madge as well. This crazy tangle comes to a head when Uhl kidnaps Madge for a ransom and wants to keep her for himself. Lance won't allow it, even if it means a fight to the death.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Grey, Zane

Leseproben

CHAPTER I LANCE SIDWAY pulled himself up from the stone steps of the Natural History Museum. He laughed ruefully as he realized that this was his third visit to the institution. As on his two previous excursions, he had wandered round and round the inside halls examining the mounted specimens of wild animals. He loved four-footed creatures, and though a pang beset him to see these lifeless counterfeits of what had once been the free beasts of the wild, he yet experienced a sense of escape and peace that he had not felt since he left his Oregon range home for Hollywood. There was, he knew now, a future in the motion-picture studios for his great horse “Umpqua,” and perhaps one for himself as well. But he shied at becoming an actor and hated to double for the handsome cowboy Apollos of the screen; and to hang around the studios merely as the owner of a wonderful horse, letting the spirited animal earn his living for him, did not fit his idea of a career. As a matter of fact, he had never desired a future in Hollywood under such circumstances and the immediate necessity for earning money was over. Nance, his sister, was perfectly well again after her operation and would soon be married. So in demand, indeed, had Umpqua been that Lance found himself with at least enough cash in hand to last him until he could find a job more to his liking. He found himself leaning toward a horseback ride through southern California, across Arizona, perhaps into New Mexico. To be sure the cattle business was practically ruined, but the desert ranges and purple uplands of Arizona, or the silver grassed valleys of New Mexico, about which he had read so much, would be vastly wilder and infinitely freer than the old pastures he had ridden, and surely there would be some kind of a job for a husky chap who was fond of animals. There was a singular zest in the thought of new adventure in a harder country than he had known. But the truth was, Hollywood did not let go its grip so easily. And why? Lance knew that he had no ambition to beat the movie game. Still he admitted the fascination of the gay bright whirl of the picture world. Reducing this down to the lure of feminine charm seemed another step in the right direction. Lance dubiously admitted to himself that he was afraid he had more than the ordinary male’s weakness for the fair sex. But hell! he thought in self-defense, just think of Hollywood’s thousands of extras, and more thousands of girls unable to find even jobs as extras, many of them exceptionally beautiful, all of them pretty! Here was a case where it was hard to break away. And he ruefully recalled the three girls to whose attraction he had succumbed–Coretta–and Virginia–and lastly Maurine. Only last night Maurine had faced him, a little pale, with dark eyes steady. “Lance, you’ve been swell to me,” she had said. “I could lie to you, but I won’t. At last I’ve got a break. You know what that means. I must make the grade…. Sure I love you. String along with me, darling, and when I’m a star….” That was Hollywood, but it was not Lance Sidway. Looked at now, in this serious moment, it seemed a deciding factor. “It’d happen again,” muttered Lance, sadly. “And I might fall worse. It’s coming to me…. I’m through!” And he arose with springy step to gaze at the hazy Sierra Madres beyond which barrier there was an unsettled land. He strolled through a long terrace of roses, sensitive to their color and fragrance. They were beautiful, but he liked wild flowers best. Meanwhile he was revolving in mind the problem of riding Umpqua out of California. The horse was fat and needed work. He would not care much for the asphalt roads; perhaps, however, from Palm Springs south Lance could keep mostly to soft ground. Once in condition again, Umpqua was good for fifty miles a day without turning a hair. Lance emerged from the Museum park, and presently, strolling along, he found himself on the edge of the University campus. Students of both sexes were in evidence, some chatting in groups, others moving along with books under their arms. These bareheaded boys and girls in their colorful sweaters, young and full of the joy of life, aroused memory and regret in Lance. After high school he had attended college in Corvallis for nearly a year, and outside of freshman miseries, which now seemed sweet, he had done well in his studies and better in athletics. But financial trouble had intervened and Nance’s illness… both of which had sent him to Hollywood. This college atmosphere was something that he liked. If only his father had not died, to leave Nance and him orphans! Lance cast off the sadness. His sister was well–happy–and he had the greatest horse in the West and a new adventure in that West before him. Pretty lucky, Lance thought he should be telling himself! Reaching a cross street Lance halted to absorb more of the flash of color on the campus. He sauntered up the cross street toward some shade trees. On that side there were more students. He heard bantering voices and gay high-pitched laughter. The shrill sound of a siren disrupted his attention, as well as that of the students. Wheeling, Lance saw a bright topless roadster turning the corner from the main street. Its driver was a bareheaded girl with hair bright as spun gold. At the moment she withdrew her extended left arm. Behind her raced the car with the loud horn. It caught up with her. One of the two occupants, surely policemen, yelled for her to stop. The young woman took her time about it, and passing Lance, finally halted at the first shade trees where half a dozen students had congregated. Lance had not far to go to reach them and he strolled along, curious, expectant, and a little angry at the gruff yell of the officer. Lance was in time to hear: “Why didn’t you stop?” “I have stopped,” replied the girl, coolly. Lance joined the group of students who had advanced to the curb. From all points on the campus others were coming, some on the run. Then Lance saw the girl at close range. Many a time in the studios and on the locations had he sustained a shock of masculine transport, but he had never seen a motion-picture star who in his opinion could hold a candle to this girl. “Majesty, what do these cops want?” queried a tall young fellow, stepping out. “I’m not sure, Rollie,” she replied, with a laugh. “But I think they want to chase me off the streets.” “What’s the idea, officer?” “If it’s any of your business, freshie, she was speedin’,” returned the other, a burly man, red-faced and thin-lipped, alighting from the police car. “I know her an’ she knows me.” “Yeah?” queried the student, insolently. “Yeah! She was makin’ forty-five on the turn an’ she didn’t even hold out her hand.” “Say, ossifer, we saw this lady turn and she wasn’t making twenty,” interposed another student. “Lay off us kids, can’t you?” asked another, plaintively. “Aren’t there enough drunk drivers to keep you busy?” “Looks a little steamed up himself.” Good-natured cat calls and boos sounded from back of the circle of students, crowding closer and denser. They sensed events. Lance gathered that the officers did not fail to grasp something inimical to their own well-being at the moment. “Give the girl a ticket, Brady, and let’s get going,” advised the one at the wheel. A storm of protest went up from the foremost line of students. Rollie, who evidently had some distinction on the campus, yelled for them to shut up. “Beat it, you flat-feet!” he called, sharply. “You hang around here and run us fellows ragged. But lay off the girls. Get that? We won’t stand for it.” “You shut up or I’ll run you in,” said Brady angrily, as he began writing the summons. “Madge, is it coming to you?” Rollie asked. “Not this time, Rollie, I swear,” she replied. “I did run away from him some days ago. But today I wasn’t making twenty.” “You tell that to the Judge,” said Brady, coldly. “An’ you’re interferin’ with an officer of the law.” “Law, hooey! Only when there’s nothing in it for you. Get the hell out of here!” The crowd of students surged over the sidewalk and pulled the officer from the running board of the car. He made the mistake of raising his fist, and striking himself free he shouted to his companion: “Send a riot call!” At that juncture a motorcycle policeman roared up to make a fringe of students in the street hop out of his way. Brady hoarsely repeated his order to him, and with his comrade, both swinging their arms, cleared a space. Lance had been shoved off the pavement by the pushing of the students, all of them roused now and full of devilment. Rollie appeared to be the only one who took the affair seriously. The girl, Madge, acted as if she were enjoying the proceedings. But her violet eyes were ablaze. Rollie leaped on the running board and leaned close to speak low to her. Then Brady turning with red visage and bristling front jerked Rollie down. “Young woman, get away from that wheel,” he ordered, opening the door. “I’ll take you for a little ride.” “Like hell you will,” she rejoined, her voice as ringing as a bell. And she snapped the...