True, there were many proofs visible of the wild riot of the evening
before--torn papers, emptied bottles, a shattered sign or two, an
oil-lamp blown into bits by some well-directed shot, a bat lying in the
middle of the road, and a dejected pony or two, still at the
hitching-rack, waiting a delayed rider. But, except for these mute
reminiscences of past frolic, the long street seemed utterly dead, the
doors of saloons and dance-halls closed, the dust swirling back and
forth to puffs of wind, the only moving object visible being a gaunt,
yellow dog trotting soberly past.
However, it was not upon this view of desolation that Miss Donovan's
eyes clung. They had taken all this in at a glance, startled, scarcely
comprehending, but the next instant wandered to the marvellous scene
revealed beyond that squalid street, and those miserable shacks, to the
green beauty of the outspread valley, and the wondrous vista of
mountain peaks beyond.
She straightened up, emitting a swift breath of delight, as her
wide-open eyes surveyed the marvellous scene of mingled loveliness and
grandeur.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89