The Kenna record. (Kenna, Roosevelt County, N.M.) 190?-1924, 1912-12-20
BRAVE ROXY O'FALLON
She Is Called Miss Fireworks
Because Of Her Many
Nervy Deeds.
BY MAUD J. PERKINS.

Jimmy O'Fallon tried to straighten
up and look his daughter in the eye.
Roxy waved her whip in front of him
airily, but decisively.
You might just as we'll fall in, dad,
because l shan't let you drive those
horses tonight You'd run the whole
shooting match over the edge of Kit
cat mountain, and I'd have the funeral
to manage. Put him to bed, boys"
II suppose you can driver"
Roxy turned on her little high heels
at the insult With her eyes, clear,
sparkling defiant eyes, she took in the
full attire of this stranger who dared
to ask her, Rcxana OFallon. whether
she could drive.
Il was born in a grub wagon" said
Roxy, mildly. i've driven horses all
my life. Why? You afraid to go
along?"
He looked amused. He was very tall,
fearfully tall, standing beside five-foot-
two of Miss O'Fallon. His heavy
storm coat hung to his heels, and his
fur cap gave him a ferocious look, too,
Roxy decided with inward irritation
His mouth was wide and addicted to
smiles. His eyes were gray and he
appeared to be fairly civilized.
"I'm going. Do have to ride in
slider"
Roxy considered, her brows drawn
tobether. Inside the coach were four
passengers, two Jap wOrkmen for the
Orienta outfit, and a couple of men
20 hn chn atrfn Ia n
make connections for Rawhide at
Wagging Tail
IT'S pretty tough going some places,
and there's a storm coming along
about ten"
For answer he swung his grip up un.
der the seat. 1t was heavy, and had
seen plenty of travel. Roxy cast one
farewell look at her father, sound
asleep by the big stove, and followed
the stranger out to the waiting team.
only two horses?" he asked, cheer
lily, as they started up Kitcats petit
coat ruf1les, as Roxy called the lower
ripple. of foothills around the great
peak.
This amt any circus outfit" Roxy
retorted surlily. You can't match that
pair in Nevada. They'd go over this
road with three legs apiece and no
eyes at all. Where you from?"
North" His tone was pleasant, but
noncommittal. Are you a Nevada
girl?"
yes. l am, but my mother was from
the east, Vermont. Fathers a western
er. He's no good, but he's got nice
ways when you know him. Everybody
likes him along the route up here.
Once in awhile he gets down and out
like that. and then | drive"
Aren't you afraid?"
"Of what?" Again her big eyes
questioned him with almost indigna
ton
You carry express parcels to the
Orienta mines?"
Sometimes. What OF It? You've
got the off night if you are after any"
she laughed. "You don't look like a
road agent They're sending up stun
tomorrow, dad said, Suppose you stop
over and take a chance then"
Silent for the next few miles, he
thought of all he had left behind
Dewey, the superintendent of the
Orienta had wired him of trouble The
Mexicans and whites kicked at the
Oriental labor coming in They would
walk out at the lifting of a leaders
hand. More they would shoot the Japs
and Chinese at the drop of hat. And
Brayton liked the Japs and Chinks. as
he called them. They were faithful
sober, steady nerved, on the job, as
Dewey said. while the others were for
ever shooting up the place, and carous
ing. He had come west to settle it
II he could have had American labor
It would have been all right, but this
hlling the camp with the riffraff o.
Europe and the border, he refused.
He glanced back at his baggage OF