Helen Fulton

John Lehnberg

Carey L. Hastings

Born in a prospector&apos;s camp, orphaned by a flood, and taken in by unwilling, unwelcoming relatives, Mercy grew up dodging blows and curses with equal dexterity and indifferent success. Once while dodging she fell and was badly hur...

Jack Harvey

Mercy on a Crutch

Born in a prospector's camp, orphaned by a flood, and taken in by unwilling, unwelcoming relatives, Mercy grew up dodging blows and curses with equal dexterity and indifferent success. Once while dodging she fell and was badly hurt. When she arose from her sickbed she had the choice of walking forever with a crutch or not walking at all. She chose the crutch. In the primitive society of Rhyolite, the mining-camp town where she lived, there was no niche for a cripple. All girls of her age shunned her. A stranger rode into Rhyolite one day, who gave short replies to the inquisitive. Only once did he pay attention to anyone in town and that was when a lounger seized Mercy's crutch and tantalizingly held it beyond her reach, but the tormentor quickly surrendered it when the stern-faced stranger demanded its return. The stranger rode away and was not seen in town again. "Wiley shall be caught today," the sheriff declared to his posse several days later. The men exchanged significant glances, as one of their number uncoiled his lariat from the saddle bow. Mercy overheard the remark and was worried, for she felt that she knew who they meant. She had seen the stranger in the mountains hiding, and fancied she saw him creep into a deserted cave. The ride that the little cripple made to save the fugitive is still talked of in the range country. She reached the cave in safety, and found there the stranger, wounded and alone. Escape was impossible for the sheriff's posse soon arrived and surrounded the cave, but Mercy, with leveled rifle, defied them to approach. Then the sheriff surprised them all. "Don't fire, boys," he called to the posse, "This here is Ned Franey, the new marshal over at Vista." Half in a daze Mercy heard the stranger explain that he had trailed Wiley, the outlaw to the cave, and after a desperate fight, had overpowered him. The posse disappeared into the cave and came back, dragging a handcuffed prisoner. "But there's going to be no necktie social, boys," explained Franey, "He's my prisoner and he stands trial at the county seat." The posse reluctantly agreed and led the prisoner off. Franey turned to the girl, who looked away in confusion. "What's yer name," he inquired. Mercy, with, averted face, told him. Franey took her two hands in his and drew her to him. "Mercy Tanner," he repeated, "Ef that ain't the prettiest name." And so happiness came to little Mercy, who had never known it before.

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Mercy on a Crutch

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