He had first come to the land of this story, fresh from his
technical training in the East. His employers, quick to recognize not
only his ability in his profession but his character and manhood, as
well, had advanced him rapidly and, less than a month before Patches
asked for work at the Cross-Triangle, had sent him on an important
mission to their mines in the North. They were sending him, now, again
to Arizona, this time as the resident manager of their properties in the
Prescott district. This new advance in his profession, together with the
substantial increase in salary which it brought, meant much to the
engineer. Most of all, it meant his marriage to Helen Wakefield. A
stop-over of two weeks at Cleveland, on way West, from the main offices
of his Company in New York, had changed his return to Prescott from a
simple business trip to a wedding journey.
At the home of the Yavapai Club, on top of the hill, a clock above the
plaza, a number of Prescott's citizens, with their guests, had gathered
to watch the beginning of the automobile race. The course, from the
corner in front of the St. Michael hotel, followed the street along one
side of the plaza, climbed straight up the hill, passed the clubhouse,
and so away into the open country.
Pages:
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290