The Story Of A Bad Indian

Malita was a half-breed, the daughter of an old squaw. She had spent several years at the Indian school in Phœnix, and had proved herself an apt pupil. Later she went to work on Simmons’ Ranch. She was a very pretty, healthy looking girl, and one day Morgan Jones, the hunter and trapper, asked her to marry him. She went with him to his cabin near the Reservation and settled down.


Montezuma’s Castle

“No,” said the curiosity dealer, “that mummy is not for sale. I had too big a job to get it.”

“Tell me about it,” I asked.