‘Train leaves in thirty minutes. Gives you time to check your baggage.’
‘Plenty,’ agreed Rex. ‘Were you ever in Mesa City?’
‘No; and that’s only half of it,’ replied the clerk blandly. ‘I prefer civilization.’
‘Isn’t Mesa City civilized?’
‘Well, it’s twenty-five miles from a railroad, in Arizona; so you may draw your own conclusions.’
CHAPTER II: THE FIGHTING NESTERS
About two thirds of the distance between Cañonville and Mesa City, traveling north toward Mesa City, the road keeps to the higher ground, several miles of it being along the rim of Coyote Cañon. From there it drops to the lower ground, nearly on a level with Black Horse River, and near the bottom of the grade it crosses Antelope Creek, which flows in from the northeast.
Just north of this crossing, on the right-hand side of the road, is an old weather-beaten sign, nailed to a gnarled cottonwood, and it reads:
THIS SIDE OF THE ROAD BELONGS TO THE 6X6
NESTERS KEEP OFF
That was Peter Morgan’s warning to any one who might entertain any idea of taking up a piece of ground on that side of the road. For a great number of years Peter Morgan and his hard-riding cowboys had enforced that warning. It is true that some had ignored the sign; but they made haste to move on, when the 6X6 outfit proceeded to show them the error of their ways.