CONTENTS
| CHAPTER | |
| I. | [BEAR VALLEY'S DRONE] |
| II. | [OUT OF THE WOODS] |
| III. | [SAN FRANCISCO] |
| IV. | [TWITTER OR TWEET] |
| V. | [A RIVAL] |
| VI. | [THE FIRE] |
| VII. | [HIRAM, THE BUTTERFLY] |
| VIII. | [LUCY'S AMBITIONS] |
| IX. | [HIRAM WAKES UP] |
| X. | [JERKLINE JO] |
| XI. | [THE RETURN OF JERKLINE JO] |
| XII. | [SKINNERS FROM FRISCO] |
| XIII. | [THE START FOR JULIA] |
| XIV. | [A WIRE TO JULIA] |
| XV. | [MR. TWEET NEGOTIATES A LOAN] |
| XVI. | [TEHACHAPI HANK] |
| XVII. | [IN LETTERS OF BLACK] |
| XVIII. | [GREATER RAGTOWN] |
| XIX. | [WHAT MADE THE WILD CAT] |
| XX. | [DRUMMOND'S PASSENGER] |
| XXI. | [LUCY SEES A PROSPECT] |
| XXII. | [JERKLINE JO'S SURPRISE] |
| XXIII. | [DRUMMOND WEAVES A DREAM] |
| XXIV. | [WHAT HAPPENED AT THE LAKE] |
| XXV. | [JO LOSES HER SUPPORT] |
| XXVI. | [AT THE HAIRPIN CURVE] |
| XXVII. | [UNDER THE DRIPPING TREES] |
| XXVIII. | [FOUR-UP FOR HELP] |
| XXIX. | [THE GENTLE WILD CAT RETURNS] |
| XXX. | [HIRAM TAKES THE TRAIL] |
| XXXI. | [A TALE OF THE DESERT'S DEAD] |
| XXXII. | [LUCY PLANS A COUNTER-ATTACK] |
| XXXIII. | [POCKETED] |
| XXXIV. | [WHILE SPRING APPROACHED] |
| XXXV. | [THE WAY OF LIFE] |
The She Boss
CHAPTER I
BEAR VALLEY'S DRONE
Spring was manifest in the vast big-timber country of Mendocino County. "Uncle" Sebastian Burris felt the moist warmth of it oozing from the slowly drying road as he trudged along. The smell of it emanated from the white, pale-yellow, and pink fungi that flourished on the soaked and ancient logs along the way. He heard the voice of it in the soft murmuring of the South Fork of the Eel, which went twinkling down Bear Valley through firs and redwoods straight as telegraph poles; in the caress of the soft south wind soughing in the tree-tops. Chipmunks and gray squirrels darted across his path.
A quarter of a mile from Wharton Bixler's store he turned off on a narrow road which led into the deeper forest. He passed through groves of redwoods which towered three hundred feet above him, and whose girth was over sixty feet. A half mile more the old man trudged on sturdily, muttering occasionally to himself. Then he struck a cross trail which paralleled Ripley Creek, and this he followed into the sunshine of an open spot.
Across this, through thickets of whitethorn, manzanita, alder, and bay he limped along, following deer trails. The deeper forest was left behind in the lowlands. A grass-grown bark road, which he eventually found, followed the creek, ascending sharply through shade and sunshine, crossing and recrossing the creek on wooden bridges, twisting, always climbing.
On one of the bridges Uncle Sebastian Burris halted. A great snarl of bleached driftwood had collected just above the bridge, and through it the clear water roared in a dozen tiny cataracts. Beyond the drift Uncle Sebastian had caught a glimpse of some living, moving object. He wiped his watery blue eyes with a red handkerchief, looked once more, then crossed the bridge and wound through a thicket of huckleberry bushes till abreast the drift.