W. C. Morrow (1854-1923) was born on this date, July 7.  At one time a protege of Ambrose Bierce, Morrow wrote a handful of horror stories. The one he is best remembered for is “His Unconquerable Enemy”.

I remember the first time I read it: sitting in the middle of a gravel road out in the country.

Perhaps I should explain that.

When I was in high school and for the first couple of summers, when I still was coming home from college, I had a job working for a crop duster spraying mesquite trees. Mesquites are like giant weeds with bark. They suck up all the water needed by the grass the cattle graze on. I was a flagger. We would walk along in a row, carrying a closet dowel rod with a piece of PVC attached to the top. In the PVC would be a cane fishing pole with a yellow flag tied to it.

The pilot would line up on the flags. We would move out of the way, walking a set number of steps , before he got to us. Otherwise we would get sprayed. Then we would repeat the process until the plane ran out of spray.

I always carried a book in my backpack to read while I was waiting for the plane to come back. Sometimes that would be half an hour or more. We tended to use a central air strip on some ranch and spray a number of different pastures in the area. Loaded crop dusters aren’t noted for their air speed. (What is the air speed of an unladen swallow crop duster?)

On this particular day, I was walking along a road. The ditches on either side of the road were filled with Johnson Grass, and probably his plenty of snakes and chiggers. So when the plane left, I just sat down in the middle of the road to read. I had a clear view for quite a ways in either direction and could see and hear any vehicle that would be coming.

“His Unconquerable Enemy” is the tale of a cruel rajah who has had a man’s arms and legs cut off as punishment for a crime. The rajah keeps him in a bird cage in his palace. The man attempts to get his revenge against the rajah, though. It was a great story.

Today’s story, “Over an Absinthe Bottle” is a little less gruesome but still has a dark ending. A man, homeless and penniless but from good stock, is wandering the streets of San Francisco in the rain, hoping for a meal. An older man standing in the doorway invites him into a bar. This particular bar has booths with doors that can be locked. They lock themselves in the booth, share a bottle of absinthe, and begin playing dice, the homeless man using the change from when the older man had the homeless man purchase the drink. There’s a good reason the older man doesn’t want to be seen. And the stakes of the game begin to get higher and higher…

Both of these stories are available in an inexpensive electronic edition. I will definitely be reading more of these.