lants were
transported over the mountains. Things looked as if Twitter-or-Tweet
was about due to make his fortune, and Jo kept investing more and more
of her surplus earnings, and he was meeting his payments promptly.
There was talk of Ragtown eventually being made a division point. If
this transpired, the railroad shops would be erected there, and the
permanent success of the town would be assured. Already a few
venturesome souls were building permanent structures whenever they were
fortunate enough to get building materials hauled in.

Drummond's five-ton trucks seemed to be meeting all requirements, and
he had added to his fleet. Jo, however, remained conservative. She
had seen rag towns spring up on railroad grades before--many of
them--only to disappear forever with the laying of the steel. Still,
she had confidence in the farming possibilities of Paloma Rancho--but
she bought no more equipment, principally, perhaps, because she could
not get desirable jerkline skinners, and because extra equipment would
mean more work for her, more time taken from her studies. She was
content with a good thing so far as financial success was
concerned--her great ambition was for an education.

Drummond, of course, was also making money; but he fell a prey to the
lure of the free-and-easy life of the frontier town, and gambled and
drank perpetually. There were stories of big losses at faro, under
which Drummond did not always bear up as a good sport should.

As for Lucy Dalles, that ambitious young woman entered with gusto into
the feverish life of Ragtown. Drummond had leased a shooting-gallery
concession from the accommodating Tweet, and had ensconced the girl
behind the rifles--or in front of them--to run the gallery.

So she confided to Hiram Hooker, when he passed along Ragtown's main
thoroughfare one night, and for the first time saw her on exhibition in
the gallery. She had partitioned off one corner of the gallery and set
up a manicure and hairdressing parlor. Of mornings, when business in
the gallery was dull, she made many an extra dollar by beautifying the
women of Ragtown.

"Yes, there's money in it," she said. "Al had the gallery stunt in
mind when he brought me down, so I quit the beauty parlor where I was
working in Frisco and got a job in a shooting gallery and learned how
to run one and to keep my noodle from getting in front of a gun. My
face is my fortune, after all, Hiram boy. One look at my s