Produced by Suzanne Shell, Carol David, Nicolas Hayes and PG Distributed

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MAX BRAND

Alcatraz

1922

CHAPTER

I.—CORDOVA

II.—THE COMING OF DAVID

III.—CONCERNING FIGHTERS

IV.—THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK

V.—RETRIBUTION

VI.—FREEDOM

VII.—THE PROMISED LAND

VIII.—MURDER

IX.—THE STAMPEDE

X.—THE THIEF

XI.—THE FAILURE

XII.—FROM THE HIP

XIII.—THE BARGAIN

XIV.—STRATEGY

XV.—THE KING

XVI.—RED PERRIS: ADVOCATE

XVII.—INVISIBLE DANGER

XVIII.—VICTORY

XIX.—HERVEY TAKES A TRICK

XX.—THE TRAP SHUTS

XXI.—THE BATTLE

XXII.—MCGUIRE SLEEPS

XXIII.—LOBO

XXIV.—THE CRISIS

XXV.—THE LITTLE SMOKY

XXVI.—PARTNERS

XXVII.—THE END OF THE RACE

ALCATRAZ

The characters, places, incidents and situations in this book areimaginary and have no relation to any person, place or actualhappening.

CHAPTER I

CORDOVA

The west wind came over the Eagles, gathered purity from the evergreenslopes of the mountains, blew across the foothills and league widefields, and came at length to the stallion with a touch of coolness andenchanting scents of far-off things. Just as his head went up, just asthe breeze lifted mane and tail, Marianne Jordan halted her pony anddrew in her breath with pleasure. For she had caught from the chestnutin the corral one flash of perfection and those far-seeing eyes calledto mind the Arab belief.

Says the Sheik: "I have raised my mare from a foal, and out of love forme she will lay down her life; but when I come out to her in themorning, when I feed her and give her water, she still looks beyond meand across the desert. She is waiting for the coming of a real man, sheis waiting for the coming of a true master out of the horizon!"

Marianne had known thoroughbreds since she was a child and after comingWest she had become acquainted with mere "hoss-flesh," but today for thefirst time she felt that the horse is not meant by nature to be theservant of man but that its speed is meant to ensure it sacred freedom.A moment later she was wondering how the thought had come to her. Thatglimpse of equine perfection had been an illusion built of spirit andattitude; when the head of the stallion fell she saw the daylight truth:that this was either the wreck of a young horse or the sad ruin of afine animal now grown old. He was a ragged creature with dull eyes andpendulous lip. No comb had been among the tangles of mane and tail foran unknown period; no brush had smoothed his coat. It was once a richred-chestnut, no doubt, but now it was sun-faded to the color of sand.He was thin. The unfleshed backbone and withers stood up painfully andshe counted the ribs one by one. Yet his body was not so broken as hisspirit. His drooped head gave him the appearance of searching for aspot to lie down. He seemed to have been left here by the cruelty of hisowner

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