Produced by Roger Frank, Darleen Dove and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net [Illustration: _Penny and the Sheriff match wits under the stars._] PENNY of Top Hill Trail By Belle Kanaris Maniates Author of "Amarilly of Clothes-Line Alley," "Mildew Manse," etc. Frontispiece by Philip Lyford The Reilly & Lee Co. Chicago Copyright, 1919 By The Reilly & Lee Co. All Rights Reserved Made in U. S. A. Published, Feb. 8, 1919 Second Printing, Feb. 10, 1919 Penny of Top Hill Trail PENNY OF TOP HILL TRAIL CONTENTS CHAPTER I 7 CHAPTER II 33 CHAPTER III 60 CHAPTER IV 90 CHAPTER V 108 CHAPTER VI 116 CHAPTER VII 141 CHAPTER VIII 155 CHAPTER IX 161 CHAPTER X 177 CHAPTER XI 203 CHAPTER XII 216 CHAPTER XIII 232 CHAPTER XIV 238 CHAPTER XV 248 CHAPTER XVI 262 CHAPTER XVII 282 [Transcriber's Note: Table of Contents was not present in the original publication.] PENNY of Top Hill Trail CHAPTER I On an afternoon in early spring a man lounged against the wall of the station waiting for the express from the east. Slender of waist and hip, stalwart of shoulder, some seventy-two inches of sinewy height, he was the figure of the typical cattleman. His eyes were deep-set and far-seeing; his lean, brown face, roughened by outdoor life, was austere and resolute in expression. The train had barely stopped when a boyish-looking, lithe-limbed youth leaped from the platform. The blue serge suit and checked cap he wore did not disguise the fact that his working clothes--his field uniform--were those of a cow-puncher. A few quick strides brought him to the man in waiting. "Hoped you'd be on hand to meet me, Kurt, so I could get out to the ranch to-night. How's things up there?" "Just the same as they were when you left, Jo," said the one addressed in whimsical tone. "You've only been gone ten days, you know." "You don't say!" ejaculated Jo, following his companion through the depot. "City does age a man." Gone are the days of The Golden West when spurred and revolvered horsemen sprang into saddles and loped out of the brush, or skimmed over matted mesquite on a buckboard drawn by swift-running ponies. A long racing car was waiting for the two men and they were soon speeding over a hard-baked, steel-like road that led up, around and over the far-flung, undulating hills before them. "I thought Kingdon's best car was worth a million bucks before I went to Chicago," said Joe critically, "but it sure would look like a two-spot on Michigan Avenue." The other smiled indulgently. "I trust everything out here won't suffer by comparison with the things you have seen during your journey."