Kindred of the Dust
The Project Gutenberg eBook, Kindred of the Dust, by Peter B. Kyne
AUTHOR OF
CAPPY RICKS , THE VALLEY OF THE GIANTS , WEBSTER—MAN'S MAN , ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY
DEAN CORNWELL
1920
MY DEAR, TYRANNICAL, PRACTICAL LITTLE FOSTER-SISTER
WITHOUT WHOSE AID AND COMFORT, HOOTS, CHEERS AND UNAUTHORIZED STRIKES, THE QUANTITY AND QUALITY OF MY ALLEGED LITERARY OUTPUT WOULD BE APPRECIABLY DIMINISHED, THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
In the living-room of The Dreamerie, his home on Tyee Head, Hector McKaye, owner of the Tyee Lumber Company and familiarly known as The Laird, was wont to sit in his hours of leisure, smoking and building castles in Spain—for his son Donald. Here he planned the acquisition of more timber and the installation of an electric-light plant to furnish light, heat, and power to his own town of Port Agnew; ever and anon he would gaze through the plate-glass windows out to sea and watch for his ships to come home. Whenever The Laird put his dreams behind him, he always looked seaward. In the course of time, his home-bound skippers, sighting the white house on the headland and knowing that The Laird was apt to be up there watching, formed the habit of doing something that pleased their owner mightily. When the northwest trades held steady and true, and while the tide was still at the flood, they would scorn the services of the tug that went out to meet them and come ramping into the bight, all their white sails set and the glory of the sun upon them; as they swept past, far below The Laird, they would dip his house-flag—a burgee, scarlet-edged, with a fir tree embroidered in green on a field of white—the symbol to the world that here was a McKaye ship. And when the house-flag fluttered half-way to the deck and climbed again to the masthead, the soul of Hector McKaye would thrill.
Peter B. Kyne
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KINDRED OF THE DUST
PETER B. KYNE
TO IRENE
CONTENTS
THE ILLUSTRATIONS
I
HECTOR MCKAYE WAS BRED OF AN ACQUISITIVE RACE.
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
SHE STOLE TO THE OLD SQUARE PIANO AND SANG FOR HIM.
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
DONALD BOWED HIS HEAD. "I CAN'T GIVE HER UP, FATHER."
XIX
XX
XXI
XXII
XXIII
XXIV
XXV
XXVI
XXVIII
XXIX
XXX
XXXI
XXXII
XXXIII
XXXIV
XXXV
XXXVI
XXXVII
"I'M A MAN WITHOUT A HOME AND YOU'VE GOT TO TAKE ME IN, NAN."
XXXVIII
XXXIX
XL
XLI
XLII
XLIII
XLIV
XLV
XLVI
XLVII