The Tupelo journal., 1913-08-08
BRAVE ROXY O'FALLON
She Is Called Miss Fireworks
Because Of Her Many
Merry Deeds.
Dy MAUD J.


Jimmy O'Fallon tried to straightea
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 shsnt let you drive those
horses tonight. You'd u the whole
shooting match over the edge Of Kit.
cat mountain. and I'd have the funeral
to manage. Put him to bed, boys"
Il 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, Roxana O'Eallon. whether
abe could drive.
Il was born in . grub wagon" said
Roxy. mildly. I've driven horses al
my life. Why? You afraid to 90
along?"
He looked amused. He was very tail.
feaEfully tall. standing beside nvefooG
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 wa wide and addicted 10
smiles. His ayes were gray and no
appeared to be fairly civilized.
I'm going. Do I have to ride In
side?"
Roxy considered. her brows drawn
tobether. Inside the coach were four
passengers, two Jap workmen for the
Orienta outfit, and a couple OF mel
taking the short cut over the pass to
make connections for Rawhide at
Wagging Tail.
Its 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. It 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 Kitcat's petit
coat ruf1es, Is 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 one was pleasant, but
noncommittal. Are you a Nevada
girl?"
Yes, l am, but my mother vas 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 stuff
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 a hat. And
Brayton liked the Japs and Chinks, as
he called them. They were faithful,
sober. steady nervsd. 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 1t.
If he could have had American labor,
it would have been all right, but this
filling the camp with the riffraff Of
Europe and the border, he refused.
He glanced back at his baggage on
top of the coach. Two trunks, long
and heavy. SO heavy that back at the
station, the men who lifted them, had
spoken among themselves. SO was the
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