Project Gutenberg's From the Valley of the Missing, by Grace Miller White

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: From the Valley of the Missing

Author: Grace Miller White

Release Date: April 1, 2006 [EBook #18093]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING ***

Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

[Illustration: ANN SHELLINGTON ANTICIPATES EVIL.

_Frontispiece_ (_Page_ 276.)]

FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING
BY
GRACE MILLER WHITE

AUTHOR OF
TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY

ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTO-PLAY
PRODUCED AND COPYRIGHTED BY THE FOX FILM
CORPORATION

GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS: NEW YORK

* * * * *

Copyright, 1911, by
W. J. WATT & COMPANY

Published, August, 1911

* * * * *

"FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING"

CHAPTER ONE

One afternoon in late October four lean mules, with stringy muscles
dragging over their bones, stretched long legs at the whirring of their
master's whip. The canalman was a short, ill-favored brute, with coarse
red hair and freckled skin. His nose, thickened by drink, threatened the
short upper lip with obliteration. Straight from ear to ear, deep under
his chin, was a zigzag scar made by a razor in his boyhood days, and
under emotion the injured throat became convulsed at times, causing his
words to be unintelligible. The red flannel shirt, patched with colors
of lighter shades, lay open to the shoulders, showing the dark, rough
skin.

"Git--git up!" he stuttered; and for some minutes the boat moved
silently, save for the swish of the water and the patter of the mules'
feet on the narrow path by the river.

From the small living-room at one end of the boat came the crooning of a
woman's voice, a girlish voice, which rose and fell without tune or
rhythm. Suddenly the mules came to a standstill with a "Whoa thar!"

"Pole me out a drink, Scraggy," bawled the man, "and put a big snack of
whisky in it--see?"

The boulder-shaped head shot forward in command as he spoke. And he
held the reins in his left hand, turn