Read Law Of the Desert Born (Ss) (1984) for Free Online

price is one thousand dollars and the care of my Dad's grave so long as you live."
    "A thousand?" Barbot was incredulous. "They are worth twice that!"
    "You heard my price. How about it?"
    "Sure," Dave said. "I'd be a fool to pass it up."
    "All right, then. Have the money when I come back from the jail."
    Laura stood. before the post office, her face white, her teeth touching her lip. Suddenly Reb felt sorry for her, yet he knew now that she had never loved him. He glanced at her and gravely tipped his hat.
    "Reb!" She put out a hand as if to hold him back. He drew up. "I'm ridin' on, Laura. I'm not blamin' you, nor anybody. I figure you never knew me real well or you'd never have been so quick to doubt. There's a lot of country west of here I've never seen. That's the way I'll ride."
    Barbot was waiting in front of the bank when Reb drew up. Reb told him about the horses in the corral at the lone cabin. "Pick 'em up, Dave. They are yours." "Sure, I was goin' to speak about that. You gave me a flat price an' no time nor reason to argue. Well, I'm doin' the same by you. Down in the livery barn corral there's a horse you'll know. My Palouse stallion. You always fancied that horse. Well, he's yours. Throw your saddle over him an' take this one for a packhorse." A door slammed up the street and Reb looked up. An old man stood on the edge of the porch, leaning against the awning post. It was Lon Melchor.
    "Me, all right. I ain't so strong right now, son, but I aim to be. I'd have to ride a mite easy the first few days, because I lost a sight of blood, but if you'll have me, son, I'll trail along."
    He waved a hand at the town. Folks here don't cotton to me. I want to see a new country."
    Reb Farrell's heart warmed to the old rustler. Get up in your saddle, Lon. We're headin' west for the Blue River country, out Arizona way."
    The old man crawled painfully into the saddle and faced around. His face was white and strained, but his lips smiled and there was *even humor in his eyes.. Let's go, son! The Blues it is!"
    The sun was high and the mountains in the . W est were far and purple. The air smelled fresh, and there was the tang of sagebrush in the air, and far off in his memory there was a smell of pines, which he soon would be smelling once more.
    The Palouse stallion stepped out, tugging the bit.

    *
    Author's Note:

DIAMOND CANYON
    Often when I would get the urge to wander, I would take a backpack and go to Peach Springs and hike some of the branch canyons that open into the Grand Canyon. Many years ago when people wished to see the Grand Canyon before any other places had been set up, the best view was from the old Diamond Creek Hotel in Diamond Canyon. By the time I got into that part of the country, the hotel was ancient history and there was nothing left but the site. There were trails nearby that lead down to the river, others that lead up Diamond Canyon, or some up to Meriwitica Canyon.
    Not being much of a camp cook, I usually carried nuts, raisins, and a couple of small cans that could be opened easily. I did carry a small coffeepot and coffee. Several times I ate with the Indians who knew friends of mine from Kingman, Oakland, or Williams. I never wanted to bother with cooking. It was an easy, lazy time. I never had a set schedule to follow; no one was waiting for me or expected me. When I got tired of sleeping on the ground I would head for the highway, often hitching a ride with an Indian in his pickup. Then I would take a bus or a train ride back to Los Angeles and hole up for another long stretch of writing. Several times I slept in Indian ruins, old cliff dwellings long abandoned by the Anasazi and their neighbors. There were ghosts around of course. Onc e a bear came along down the path past a ruin in which I was camped. He could not see me but he caught my scent and sniffed around, hesitated and then went about his business. It was the right decision for both of us.
    *

THE BLACK ROCK COFFIN MAKERS
    The