They liked him for his inexhaustible good-nature, the mellow baritone
in which he sang the range songs at any one's request, and perhaps
more than all, for the very laxness with which he conducted his work.
They had had enough of the old school of sheriffs who lived a few
months gun in hand and died fighting from the saddle. The office had
never seemed desirable until Gus Morris ran for it and smiled his way
to a triumphant election.
Before his career as an office-holder began, he ran a combined general
merchandise store, saloon, and hotel. That is to say, he ran the
hostelry in name. The real executive head, general manager, clerk,
bookkeeper, and cook, and sometimes even bartender was his daughter,
Jacqueline. She found the place only a saloon, and a poorly patronized
one at that. Her unaided energy gradually made it into a hotel,
restaurant, and store. Even while her father was in office he spent
most of his time around the hotel; but no matter how important he
might be elsewhere, in his own house he had no voice. There the only
law was the will of Jacqueline.
Out of the stable behind this hostelry Dan and Tex Calder walked on
the evening of the train robbery.
Pages:
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186