Brothers -- Fiction; Deserts -- Fiction; Southwest, New -- Fiction; Western stories
“I’ve begun it,” he whispered, and meant the lonely life that was to
be his. The silence, the darkness, the loneliness seemed to give him
deeper thought. The thing that puzzled him and alarmed him was what
seemed to be swift changes going on in him. If he changed his mind
every hour, now cast down because of memories he could not wholly
shake, or lifted to strange exaltation by the beauty of a desert
sunset, or again swayed by the appeal of a girl’s dusky eyes, and then
instinctively leaping into a fight with a Mexican--if he were going
to be as vacillating and wild as these impulses led him to suppose he
might be, it was certain that he faced a hopeless future.
But could he help himself? Then it seemed his fine instincts, his fine
principles, and the hopes and dreams that would not die, began to
contend with a new uprising force in him, a wilder something he had
never known, a strange stirring and live emotion.
“But I’m glad,” he burst out, as if telling his secret to the
darkness. “Glad to be rid of Guerd--damn him and his meanness!... Glad
to be alone!... Glad to come into this wild desert!... Glad that girl
made eyes at me! I’ll not lie to myself. I wanted to hug her--to kiss
her--and I’ll do it if she’ll let me.... That gambling hell disgusted
me, and sight of the greaser’s knife scared me cold. Yet when I got
hold of him--felt my strength--how helpless he was--that I could
have cracked his bones--why, scared as I was, I felt a strange wild
something that is not gone yet.... I’m changing. It’s a different life.
And I’ve got to meet things as they come, and be game.”
* * * * *
Next morning Adam went to work and it developed that this was to copy
MacKay’s lead-pencil scrawls, and after that was done to keep accurate
account of ore mined and operated.
Several days passed before Adam caught up with his work to the hour.
Then MacKay, true to his word, said he would set him on a man’s job
part of the time. The job upon which MacKay put Adam was no less than
keeping up the fire under the huge boilers. As wood had to be used for
fuel and as it was consumed rapidly, the task of stoking was not easy.
Besides, hot as the furnace was, it seemed the sun was hotter. Adam
sweat till he could wring water out of his shirt.
That night he made certain MacKay was playing a joke on him. Arallanes
confided this intelligence, and even Margarita had been let into the
secret. MacKay had many laborers for the hard work, and he wanted to
cure the tenderfoot of his desire for a man’s job, such as he had asked
for. It was all good-natured, and amused Adam. He imagined he knew what
he needed, and while he was trying to find it he could have just as
much fun as MacKay.
Much to MacKay’s surprise, Adam presented himself next afternoon, in
boots, overalls, and undershirt, to go on with his job of firing the
engine.
“Wasn’t yesterday enough?” queried the boss.
“I can stand it.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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