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diff --git a/1803-h/1803-h.htm b/1803-h/1803-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..984d7f8 --- /dev/null +++ b/1803-h/1803-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13340 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Wyoming, by William Macleod Raine</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Wyoming, a Story of the Outdoor West, by William MacLeod Raine</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Wyoming, a Story of the Outdoor West</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: William MacLeod Raine</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July, 1999 [eBook #1803]<br /> +[Most recently updated: December 11, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Mary Starr</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WYOMING ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h1>Wyoming</h1> + +<h3>a Story of the Outdoor West</h3> + +<h2 class="no-break">By William MacLeod Raine</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I. A DESERT MEETING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II. THE KING OF THE BIG HORN COUNTRY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III. AN INVITATION GIVEN AND ACCEPTED</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV. AT THE LAZY D RANCH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V. THE DANCE AT FRASER’S</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI. A PARTY CALL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII. THE MAN FROM THE SHOSHONE FASTNESSES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII. IN THE LAZY D HOSPITAL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX. MISS DARLING ARRIVES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X. A SHEPHERD OF THE DESERT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI. A RESCUE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII. MISTRESS AND MAID</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII. THE TWO COUSINS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV. FOR THE WORLD’S CHAMPIONSHIP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV. JUDD MORGAN PASSES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI. HUNTING BIG GAME</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII. RUN TO EARTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII. PLAYING FOR TIME</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX. WEST POINT TO THE RESCUE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX. TWO CASES OF DISCIPLINE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI. THE SIGNAL LIGHTS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII. EXIT THE “KING”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII. JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS’ MEETING</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I.<br/> +A DESERT MEETING</h2> + +<p> +An automobile shot out from a gash in the hills and slipped swiftly down to the +butte. Here it came to a halt on the white, dusty road, while its occupant +gazed with eager, unsated eyes on the great panorama that stretched before her. +The earth rolled in waves like a mighty sea to the distant horizon line. From a +wonderful blue sky poured down upon the land a bath of sunbeat. The air was +like wine, pure and strong, and above the desert swam the rare, untempered +light of Wyoming. Surely here was a peace primeval, a silence unbroken since +the birth of creation. +</p> + +<p> +It was all new to her, and wonderfully exhilarating. The infinite roll of +plain, the distant shining mountains, the multitudinous voices of the desert +drowned in a sunlit sea of space—they were all details of the situation +that ministered to a large serenity. +</p> + +<p> +And while she breathed deeply the satisfaction of it, an exploding rifle echo +shattered the stillness. With excited sputtering came the prompt answer of a +fusillade. She was new to the West; but some instinct stronger than reason told +the girl that here was no playful puncher shooting up the scenery to ventilate +his exuberance. Her imagination conceived something more deadly; a sinister +picture of men pumping lead in a grim, close-lipped silence; a lusty plainsman, +with murder in his heart, crumpling into a lifeless heap, while the thin +smoke-spiral curled from his hot rifle. +</p> + +<p> +So the girl imagined the scene as she ran swiftly forward through the pines to +the edge of the butte bluff whence she might look down upon the coulée that +nestled against it. Nor had she greatly erred, for her first sweeping glance +showed her the thing she had dreaded. +</p> + +<p> +In a semicircle, well back from the foot of the butte, half a dozen men +crouched in the cover of the sage-brush and a scattered group of cottonwoods. +They were perhaps fifty yards apart, and the attention of all of them was +focused on a spot directly beneath her. Even as she looked, in that first swift +moment of apprehension, a spurt of smoke came from one of the rifles and was +flung back from the forked pine at the bottom of the mesa. She saw him then, +kneeling behind his insufficient shelter, a trapped man making his last stand. +</p> + +<p> +From where she stood the girl distinguished him very clearly, and under the +field-glasses that she turned on him the details leaped to life. Tall, strong, +slender, with the lean, clean build of a greyhound, he seemed as wary and alert +as a panther. The broad, soft hat, the scarlet handkerchief loosely knotted +about his throat, the gray shirt, spurs and overalls, proclaimed him a +stockman, just as his dead horse at the entrance to the coulée told of an +accidental meeting in the desert and a hurried run for cover. +</p> + +<p> +That he had no chance was quite plain, but no plainer than the cool vigilance +with which he proposed to make them pay. Even in the matter of defense he was +worse off than they were, but he knew how to make the most of what he had; knew +how to avail himself of every inch of sagebrush that helped to render him +indistinct to their eyes. +</p> + +<p> +One of the attackers, eager for a clearer shot, exposed himself a trifle too +far in taking aim. Without any loss of time in sighting, swift as a +lightning-flash, the rifle behind the forked pine spoke. That the bullet +reached its mark she saw with a gasp of dismay. For the man suddenly huddled +down and rolled over on his side. +</p> + +<p> +His comrades appeared to take warning by this example. The men at both ends of +the crescent fell back, and for a minute the girl’s heart leaped with the hope +that they were about to abandon the siege. Apparently the man in the scarlet +kerchief had no such expectation. He deserted his position behind the pine and +ran back, crouching low in the brush, to another little clump of trees closer +to the bluff. The reason for this was at first not apparent to her, but she +understood presently when the men who had fallen back behind the rolling +hillocks appeared again well in to the edge of the bluff. Only by his timely +retreat had the man saved himself from being outflanked. +</p> + +<p> +It was very plain that the attackers meant to take their time to finish him in +perfect safety. He was surrounded on every side by a cordon of rifles, except +where the bare face of the butte hung down behind him. To attempt to scale it +would have been to expose himself as a mark for every gun to certain death. +</p> + +<p> +It was now that she heard the man who seemed to be directing the attack call +out to another on his right. She was too far to make out the words, but their +effect was clear to her. He pointed to the brow of the butte above, and a +puncher in white woolen chaps dropped back out of range and swung to the saddle +upon one of the ponies bunched in the rear. He cantered round in a wide circle +and made for the butte. His purpose was obviously to catch their victim in the +unprotected rear, and fire down upon him from above. +</p> + +<p> +The young woman shouted a warning, but her voice failed to carry. For a moment +she stood with her hands pressed together in despair, then turned and swiftly +scudded to her machine. She sprang in, swept forward, reached the rim of the +mesa, and plunged down. Never before had she attempted so precarious a descent +in such wild haste. The car fairly leaped into space, and after it struck +swayed dizzily as it shot down. The girl hung on, her face white and set, the +pulse in her temple beating wildly. She could do nothing, as the machine rocked +down, but hope against many chances that instant destruction might be averted. +</p> + +<p> +Utterly beyond her control, the motor-car thundered down, reached the foot of +the butte, and swept over a little hill in its wild flight. She rushed by a +mounted horseman in the thousandth part of a second. She was still speeding at +a tremendous velocity, but a second hill reduced this somewhat. She had not yet +recovered control of the machine, but, though her eyes instinctively followed +the white road that flashed past, she again had photographed on her brain the +scene of the turbid tragedy in which she was intervening. +</p> + +<p> +At the foot of the butte the road circled and dipped into the coulée. She +braced herself for the shock, but, though the wheels skidded till her heart was +in her throat, the automobile, hanging on the balance of disaster, swept round +in safety. +</p> + +<p> +Her horn screamed an instant warning to the trapped man. She could not see him, +and for an instant her heart sank with the fear that they had killed him. But +she saw then that they were still firing, and she continued her honking +invitation as the car leaped forward into the zone of spitting bullets. +</p> + +<p> +By this time she was recovering control of the motor, and she dared not let her +attention wander, but out of the corner of her eye she appreciated the +situation. Temporarily, out of sheer amaze at this apparition from the blue, +the guns ceased their sniping. She became aware that a light curly head, +crouched low in the sage-brush, was moving rapidly to meet her at right angles, +and in doing so was approaching directly the line of fire. She could see him +dodging to and fro as he moved forward, for the rifles were again barking. +</p> + +<p> +She was within two hundred yards of him, still going rapidly, but not with the +same headlong rush as before, when the curly head disappeared in the +sage-brush. It was up again presently, but she could see that the man came +limping, and so uncertainly that twice he pitched forward to the ground. +Incautiously one of his assailants ran forward with a shout the second time his +head went down. Crack! The unerring rifle rang out, and the impetuous one +dropped in his tracks. +</p> + +<p> +As she approached, the young woman slowed without stopping, and as the car +swept past Curly Head flung himself in headlong. He picked himself up from her +feet, crept past her to the seat beyond, and almost instantly whipped his rifle +to his shoulder in prompt defiance of the fire that was now converged on them. +</p> + +<p> +Yet in a few moments the sound died away, for a voice midway in the crescent +had shouted an amazed discovery: +</p> + +<p> +“By God, it’s a woman!” +</p> + +<p> +The car skimmed forward over the uneven ground toward the end of the +semicircle, and passed within fifty yards of the second man from the end, the +one she had picked out as the leader of the party. He was a black, swarthy +fellow in plain leather chaps and blue shirt. As they passed he took a long, +steady aim. +</p> + +<p> +“Duck!” shouted the man beside her, and dragged her down on the seat so that +his body covered hers. +</p> + +<p> +A puff of wind fanned the girl’s cheek. +</p> + +<p> +“Near thing,” her companion said coolly. He looked back at the swarthy man and +laughed softly. “Some day you’ll mebbe wish you had sent your pills straighter, +Mr. Judd Morgan.” +</p> + +<p> +Yet a few wheel-turns and they had dipped forward out of range among the great +land waves that seemed to stretch before them forever. The unexpected had +happened, and she had achieved a rescue in the face of the impossible. +</p> + +<p> +“Hurt badly?” the girl inquired briefly, her dark-blue eyes meeting his as +frankly as those of a boy. +</p> + +<p> +“No need for an undertaker. I reckon I’ll survive, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where are you hit?” +</p> + +<p> +“I just got a telegram from my ankle saying there was a cargo of lead arrived +there unexpected,” he drawled easily. +</p> + +<p> +“Hurts a good deal, doesn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“No more than is needful to keep my memory jogged up. It’s a sort of a +forget-me-not souvenir. For a good boy; compliments of Mr. Jim Henson,” he +explained. +</p> + +<p> +Her dark glance swept him searchingly. She disapproved the assurance of his +manner even while the youth in her applauded his reckless sufficiency. His gay +courage held her unconsenting admiration even while she resented it. He was a +trifle too much at his ease for one who had just been snatched from dire peril. +Yet even in his insouciance there was something engaging; something almost of +distinction. +</p> + +<p> +“What was the trouble?” +</p> + +<p> +Mirth bubbled in his gray eyes. “I gathered, ma’am, that they wanted to collect +my scalp.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do what?” she frowned. +</p> + +<p> +“Bump me off—send me across the divide.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I know that. But why?” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to reproach himself. “Now how could I be so neglectful? I clean +forgot to ask.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s ridiculous,” was her sharp verdict. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am, plumb ridiculous. My only excuse is that they began scattering +lead so sudden I didn’t have time to ask many ‘Whyfors.’ I reckon we’ll just +have to call it a Wyoming difference of opinion,” he concluded pleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Which means, I suppose, that you are not going to tell me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I got so much else to tell y’u that’s a heap more important,” he laughed. “Y’u +see, I’m enjoyin’ my first automobile ride. It was certainly thoughtful of y’u +to ask me to go riding with y’u, Miss Messiter.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you know my name. May I ask how?” was her astonished question. +</p> + +<p> +He gave the low laugh that always seemed to suggest a private source of +amusement of his own. “I suspicioned that might be your name when I say y’u +come a-sailin’ down from heaven to gather me up like Enoch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, ma’am, I happened to drift in to Gimlet Butte two or three days ago, and +while I was up at the depot looking for some freight a train sashaid in and +side tracked a flat car. There was an automobile on that car addressed to Miss +Helen Messiter. Now, automobiles are awful seldom in this country. I don’t seem +to remember having seen one before.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. You’re quite a Sherlock Holmes. Do you know anything more about me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know y’u have just fallen heir to the Lazy D. They say y’u are a schoolmarm, +but I don’t believe it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I am.” Then, “Why don’t you believe it?” she added. +</p> + +<p> +He surveyed her with his smile audacious, let his amused eyes wander down from +the mobile face with the wild-rose bloom to the slim young figure so long and +supple, then serenely met her frown. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u don’t look it.” +</p> + +<p> +“No? Are you the owner of a composite photograph of the teachers of the +country?” +</p> + +<p> +He enjoyed again his private mirth. “I should like right well to have the +pictures of some of them.” +</p> + +<p> +She glanced at him sharply, but he was gazing so innocently at the purple +Shoshones in the distance that she could not give him the snub she thought he +needed. +</p> + +<p> +“You are right. My name is Helen Messiter,” she said, by way of stimulating a +counter fund of information. For, though she was a young woman not much given +to curiosity, she was aware of an interest in this spare, broad-shouldered +youth who was such an incarnation of bronzed vigor. +</p> + +<p> +“Glad to meet y’u, Miss Messiter,” he responded, and offered his firm brown +hand in Western fashion. +</p> + +<p> +But she observed resentfully that he did not mention his own name. It was +impossible to suppose that he knew no better, and she was driven to conclude +that he was silent of set purpose. Very well! If he did not want to introduce +himself she was not going to urge it upon him. In a businesslike manner she +gave her attention to eating up the dusty miles. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am. I reckon I never was more glad to death to meet a lady than I was +to meet up with y’u,” he continued, cheerily. “Y’u sure looked good to me as +y’u come a-foggin’ down the road. I fair had been yearnin’ for company but was +some discouraged for fear the invitation had miscarried.” He broke off his +sardonic raillery and let his level gaze possess her for a long moment. “Miss +Messiter, I’m certainly under an obligation to y’u I can’t repay. Y’u saved my +life,” he finished gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fact.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t a personal matter at all,” she assured him, with a touch of impatient +hauteur. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a heap personal to me.” +</p> + +<p> +In spite of her healthy young resentment she laughed at the way in which he +drawled this out, and with a swift sweep her boyish eyes took in again his +compelling devil-may-care charm. She was a tenderfoot, but intuition as well as +experience taught her that he was unusual enough to be one of ten thousand. No +young Greek god’s head could have risen more superbly above the brick-tanned +column of the neck than this close-cropped curly one. Gray eyes, deep and +unwavering and masterful, looked out of a face as brown as Wyoming. He was got +up with no thought of effect, but the tigerish litheness, the picturesque +competency of him, spake louder than costuming. +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you really hurt worse than you pretend? I’m sure your ankle ought to be +attended to as soon as possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t tell me you’re a lady doctor, ma’am,” he burlesqued his alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell me where the nearest ranch house is?” she asked, ignoring his +diversion. +</p> + +<p> +“The Lazy D is the nearest, I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which direction?” +</p> + +<p> +“North by east, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’ll take the most direct road to it. +</p> + +<p> +“In that case I’ll thank y’u for my ride and get out here.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—why?” +</p> + +<p> +He waved a jaunty hand toward the recent battlefield. “The Lazy D lies right +back of that hill. I expect, mebbe, those wolves might howl again if we went +back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where, then, shall I take you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hate to trouble y’u to go out of your way. +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say, but I’m going just the same,” she told him, dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“If you’re right determined—” He interrupted himself to point to the +south. “Do y’u see that camel-back peak over there?” +</p> + +<p> +“The one with the sunshine on its lower edge?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it, Miss Messiter. They call those two humps the Antelope Peaks. If y’u +can drop me somewhere near there I think I’ll manage all right.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not going to leave you till we reach a house,” she informed him promptly. +“You’re not fit to walk fifty yards.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right kind of y’u, but I could not think of asking so much. My friends +will find me if y’u leave me where I can work a heliograph.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or your enemies,” she cut in. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope not. I’d not likely have the luck to get another invitation right then +to go riding with a friendly young lady.” +</p> + +<p> +She gave him direct, cool, black-blue eyes that met and searched his. “I’m not +at all sure she is friendly. I shall want to find out the cause of the trouble +you have just had before I make up my mind as to that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I judge people by their actions. Y’u didn’t wait to find out before bringing +the ambulance into action,” he laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“I see you do not mean to tell me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re quite a lawyer, ma’am,” he evaded. +</p> + +<p> +“I find you a very slippery witness, then.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ask anything y’u like and I’ll tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. Who were those men, and why were they trying to kill you?” +</p> + +<p> +“They turned their wolf loose on me because I shot up one of them yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me! Is it your business to go around shooting people? That’s three I +happen to know that you have shot. How many more?” +</p> + +<p> +“No more, ma’am—not recently.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, three is quite enough—recently,” she mimicked. “You seem to me a +good deal of a desperado.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t say ‘Yes, ma’am,’ like that, as if it didn’t matter in the least whether +you are or not,” she ordered. +</p> + +<p> +“No, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” She broke off with a gesture of impatience at his burlesque of obedience. +“You know what I mean—that you ought to deny it; ought to be furious at +me for suggesting it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ought I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you ought.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a heap of ways I ain’t up to specifications,” he admitted, cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +“And who are they—the men that were attacking you?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a gleam of irrepressible humor in the bold eyes. “Your cow-punchers, +ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“My cow-punchers?” +</p> + +<p> +“They ce’tainly belong to the Lazy D outfit.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you say that you shot one of my men yesterday?” He could see her getting +ready for a declaration of war. +</p> + +<p> +“Down by Willow Creek—Yes, ma’am,” he answered, comfortably. +</p> + +<p> +“And why, may I ask?” she flamed +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a long story, Miss Messiter. It wouldn’t be square for me to get my +version in before your boys. Y’u ask them.” He permitted himself a genial +smile, somewhat ironic. “I shouldn’t wonder but what they’ll give me a +giltedged testimonial as an unhanged horse thief.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t there such a thing as law in Wyoming?” the girl demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Lots of it. Y’u can buy just as good law right here as in Kalamazoo.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I knew where to find it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Like to put me in the calaboose?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the penitentiary. Yes, sir!” A moment later the question that was in her +thoughts leaped hotly from her lips. “Who are you, sir, that dare to commit +murder and boast of it?” +</p> + +<p> +She had flicked him on the raw at last. Something that was near to pain rested +for a second in his eyes. “Murder is a hard name, ma’am. And I didn’t say he +was daid, or any of the three,” came his gentle answer. +</p> + +<p> +“You <i>meant</i> to kill them, anyhow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did I?” There was the ghost of a sad smile about his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“The way you act, a person might think you one of Ned Bannister’s men,” she +told him, scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect you’re right.” +</p> + +<p> +She repented her a little at a charge so unjust. “If you are not ashamed of +your name why are you so loath to part with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u didn’t ask me my name,” he said, a dark flush sweeping his face. +</p> + +<p> +“I ask it now.” +</p> + +<p> +Like the light from a snuffed candle the boyish recklessness had gone out of +his face. His jaws were set like a vise and he looked hard as hammered steel. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Bannister,” he said, coldly. +</p> + +<p> +“Ned Bannister, the outlaw,” she let slip, and was aware of a strange sinking +of the heart. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to her that something sinister came to the surface in his handsome +face. “I reckon we might as well let it go at that,” he returned, with bitter +briefness. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II.<br/> +THE KING OF THE BIG HORN COUNTRY</h2> + +<p> +Two months before this time Helen Messiter had been serenely teaching a second +grade at Kalamazoo, Michigan, notwithstanding the earnest efforts of several +youths of that city to induce her to retire to domesticity “What’s the use of +being a schoolmarm?” had been the burden of their plaint. “Any spinster can +teach kids <i>C-a-t</i>, Cat, but only one in several thousand can be the +prettiest bride in Kalamazoo.” None of them, however, had been able to drive +the point sufficiently home, and it is probable that she would have continued +to devote herself to Young America if an uncle she had never seen had not died +without a will and left her a ranch in Wyoming yclept the Lazy D. +</p> + +<p> +When her lawyer proposed to put the ranch on the market Miss Helen had a word +to say. +</p> + +<p> +“I think not. I’ll go out and see it first, anyhow,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“But really, my dear young lady, it isn’t at all necessary. Fact is, I’ve +already had an offer of a hundred thousand dollars for it. Now, I should judge +that a fair price.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very likely,” his client interrupted, quietly. “But, you see, I don’t care to +sell.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what in the world are you going to do with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Run it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, my dear Miss Messiter, it isn’t an automobile or any other kind of toy. +You must remember that it takes a business head and a great deal of experience +to make such an investment pay. I really think—” +</p> + +<p> +“My school ends on the fourteenth of June. I’ll get a substitute for the last +two months. I shall start for Wyoming on the eighteenth of April.” +</p> + +<p> +The man of law gasped, explained the difficulties again carefully as to a +child, found that he was wasting his breath, and wisely gave it up. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Messiter had started on the eighteenth of April, as she had announced. +When she reached Gimlet Butte, the nearest railroad point to the Lazy D, she +found a group of curious, weatherbeaten individuals gathered round a machine +foreign to their experience. It was on a flat car, and the general opinion ran +the gamut from a newfangled sewing machine to a thresher. Into this guessing +contest came its owner with so brisk and businesslike an energy that inside of +two hours she was testing it up and down the wide street of Gimlet Butte, to +the wonder and delight of an audience to which each one of the eleven saloons +of the city had contributed its admiring quota. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the young woman attended strictly to business. She had disappeared +for half an hour with a suit case into the Elk House; and when she returned in +a short-skirted corduroy suit, leggings and wide-brimmed gray Stetson hat, all +Gimlet Butte took an absorbing interest in the details of this delightful +adventure that had happened to the town. The population was out <i>en masse</i> +to watch her slip down the road on a trial trip. +</p> + +<p> +Presently “Soapy” Sothern, drifting in on his buckskin from the Hoodoo Peak +country, where for private reasons of his own he had been for the past month a +sojourner, reported that he had seen the prettiest sight in the State climbing +under a gasoline bronc with a monkey-wrench in her hand. Where? Right over the +hill on the edge of town. The immediate stampede for the cow ponies was averted +by a warning chug-chug that sounded down the road, followed by the appearance +of a flashing whir that made the ponies dance on their hind legs. +</p> + +<p> +“The gasoline bronc lady sure makes a hit with me,” announced “Texas,” gravely. +“I allow I’ll rustle a job with the Lazy D outfit.” +</p> + +<p> +“She ce’tainly rides herd on that machine like a champeen,” admitted Soapy. “I +reckon I’ll drift over to the Lazy D with you to look after yore remains, Tex, +when the lightning hits you.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Messiter swung the automobile round in a swift circle, came to an abrupt +halt in front of the hotel, and alighted without delay. As she passed in +through the half score of admirers she had won, her dark eyes swept smilingly +over assembled Cattleland. She had already met most of them at the launching of +the machine from the flat car, and had directed their perspiring energies as +they labored to follow her orders. Now she nodded a recognition with a little +ripple of gay laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m delighted to be able to contribute to the entertainment of Gimlet Butte,” +she said, as she swept in. For this young woman was possessed of Western +adaptation. It gave her no conscientious qualms to exchange conversation +fraternal with these genial savages. +</p> + +<p> +The Elk House did not rejoice in a private dining room, and competition +strenuous ensued as to who should have the pleasure of sitting beside the guest +of honor. To avoid ill feeling, the matter was determined by a game of +freeze-out, in which Texas and a mature gentleman named, from his complexion, +“Beet” Collins, were the lucky victors. Texas immediately repaired to the +general store, where he purchased a new scarlet bandanna for the occasion; also +a cake of soap with which to rout the alkali dust that had filtered into every +pore of his hands and face from a long ride across the desert. +</p> + +<p> +Came supper and Texas simultaneously, the cow-puncher’s face scrubbed to an +apple shine. At the last moment Collins defaulted, his nerve completely gone. +Since, however, he was a thrifty soul, he sold his place to Soapy for ten +dollars, and proceeded to invest the proceeds in an immediate drunk. +</p> + +<p> +During the first ten minutes of supper Miss Messiter did not appear, and the +two guardians who flanked her chair solicitously were the object of much +badinage. +</p> + +<p> +“She got one glimpse of that red haid of Tex and the pore lady’s took to the +sage,” explained Yorky. +</p> + +<p> +“And him scrubbed so shiny fust time since Christmas before the big blizzard,” +sighed Doc Rogers. +</p> + +<p> +“Shucks! She ain’t scared of no sawed-off, hammered-down runt like Texas, No, +siree! Miss Messiter’s on the absent list ’cause she’s afraid she cayn’t resist +the blandishments of Soapy. Did yo’ ever hear about Soapy and that Caspar hash +slinger?” +</p> + +<p> +“Forget it, Slim,” advised Soapy, promptly. He had been engaged in lofty and +oblivious conversation with Texas, but he did not intend to allow reminiscences +to get under way just now. +</p> + +<p> +At this opportune juncture arrived the mistress of the “gasoline bronc,” neatly +clad in a simple white lawn with blue trimmings. She looked like a gleam of +sunshine in her fresh, sweet youth; and not even in her own school room had she +ever found herself the focus of a cleaner, more unstinted admiration. For the +outdoors West takes off its hat reverently to women worthy of respect, +especially when they are young and friendly. +</p> + +<p> +Helen Messiter had come to Wyoming because the call of adventure, the desire +for experience outside of rutted convention, were stirring her warm-blooded +youth. She had seen enough of life lived in a parlor, and when there came +knocking at her door a chance to know the big, untamed outdoors at first hand +she had at once embraced it like a lover. She was eager for her new life, and +she set out skillfully to make these men tell her what she wanted to know. To +them, of course, it was an old story, and whatever of romance it held was +unconscious. But since she wanted to talk of the West they were more than ready +to please her. +</p> + +<p> +So she listened, and drew them out with adroit questions when it was necessary. +She made them talk of life on the open range, of rustlers and those who lived +outside the law in the upper Shoshone country, of the deadly war waging between +the cattle and sheep industries. +</p> + +<p> +“Are there any sheep near the Lazy D ranch?” she asked, intensely interested in +Soapy’s tale of how cattle and sheep could no more be got to mix than oil and +water. +</p> + +<p> +For an instant nobody answered her question; then Soapy replied, with what +seemed elaborate carelessness: +</p> + +<p> +“Ned Bannister runs a bunch of about twelve thousand not more’n fifteen or +twenty miles from your place.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you say they are spoiling the range?” +</p> + +<p> +“They’re ce’tainly spoiling it for cows.” +</p> + +<p> +“But can’t something be done? If my cows were there first I don’t see what +right he has to bring his sheep there,” the girl frowned. +</p> + +<p> +The assembled company attended strictly to supper. The girl, surprised at the +stillness, looked round. “Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Now you’re shouting, ma’am! That’s what we say,” enthused Texas, spurring to +the rescue. +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t much matter what you say. What do you do?” asked Helen, +impatiently. “Do you lie down and let Mr. Bannister and his kind drive their +sheep over you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do we, Soapy?” grinned Texas. Yet it seemed to her his smile was not quite +carefree. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not a cowman myself,” explained Soapy to the girl. “Nor do I run sheep. +I—” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell Miss Messiter what yore business is, Soapy,” advised Yorky from the end +of the table, with a mouthful of biscuit swelling his cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +Soapy crushed the irrepressible Yorky with a look, but that young man hit back +smilingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Soapy, he sells soap, ma’am. He’s a sorter city salesman, I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should never have guessed it. Mr. Sothern does not <i>look</i> like a +salesman,” said the girl, with a glance at his shrewd, hard, expressionless +face. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am, he’s a first-class seller of soap, is Mr. Sothern,” chuckled the +cow-puncher, kicking his friends gayly under the table. +</p> + +<p> +“You can see I never sold <i>him</i> any, Miss Messiter,” came back Soapy, +sorrowfully. +</p> + +<p> +All this was Greek to the young lady from Kalamazoo. How was she to know that +Mr. Sothern had vended his soap in small cubes on street corners, and that he +wrapped bank notes of various denominations in the bars, which same were +retailed to eager customers for the small sum of fifty cents, after a guarantee +that the soap was good? His customers rarely patronized him twice; and +frequently they used bad language because the soap wrapping was not as valuable +as they had expected. This was manifestly unfair, for Mr. Sothern, who made no +claims to philanthropy, often warned them that the soap should be bought on its +merits, and not with an eye single to the premium that might or might not +accompany the package. +</p> + +<p> +“I started to tell you, ma’am, when that infant interrupted, that the cowmen +don’t aim to quit business yet a while. They’ve drawn a dead-line, Miss +Messiter.” +</p> + +<p> +“A dead-line?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am, beyond which no sheep herder is to run his bunch.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if he does?” the girl asked, open eyed. +</p> + +<p> +“He don’t do it twict, ma’am. Why don’t you pass the fritters to Miss Messiter, +Slim?” +</p> + +<p> +“And about this Bannister. Who is he?” +</p> + +<p> +Her innocent question seemed to ring a bell for silence; seemed to carry with +it some hidden portent that stopped idle conversation as a striking clock that +marks the hour of an execution. +</p> + +<p> +The smile that had been gay grew grim, and men forgot the subject of their +light, casual talk. It was Sothern that answered her, and she observed that his +voice was grave, his face studiously without expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Bannister, ma’am, is a sheepman.” +</p> + +<p> +“So I understood, but—” Her eyes traveled swiftly round the table, and +appraised the sudden sense of responsibility that had fallen on these reckless, +careless frontiersmen. “I am wondering what else he is. Really, he seems to be +the bogey man of Gimlet Butte.” +</p> + +<p> +There was another instant silence, and again it was Soapy that lifted it. “I +expaict you’ll like Wyoming, Miss Messiter; leastways I hope you will. There’s +a right smart of country here.” His gaze went out of the open door to the vast +sea of space that swam in the fine sunset light. “Yes, most folks that ain’t +plumb spoilt with city ways likes it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure she’ll like it. Y’u want to get a good, easy-riding hawss, Miss +Messiter,” advised Slim. +</p> + +<p> +“And a rifle,” added Texas, promptly. +</p> + +<p> +It occurred to her that they were all working together to drift the +conversation back to a safe topic. She followed the lead given her, but she +made up her mind to know what it was about her neighbor, Mr. Bannister, the +sheep herder, that needed to be handled with such wariness and circumspection +of speech. +</p> + +<p> +Her chance came half an hour later, when she stood talking to the landlady on +the hotel porch in the mellow twilight that seemed to rest on the land like a +moonlit aura. For the moment they were alone. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it about this man Bannister that makes men afraid to speak of him?” +she demanded, with swift impulse. +</p> + +<p> +Her landlady’s startled eyes went alertly round to see that they were alone. +“Hush, child! You mustn’t speak of him like that,” warned the older woman. +</p> + +<p> +“Why mustn’t I? That’s what I want to know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is isn’t healthy.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +Again that anxious look flashed round in the dusk. “The Bannister outfit is the +worst in the land. Ned Bannister is king of the whole Big Horn country and +beyond that to the Tetons.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you mean to tell me that everybody is afraid of him—that men like +Mr. Sothern dare not say their soul is their own?” the newcomer asked, +contemptuously. +</p> + +<p> +“Not so loud, child. He has spies everywhere That’s the trouble. You don’t know +who is in with him. He’s got the whole region terrified.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is he so bad?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is a devil. Last year he and his hell riders swept down on Topaz and killed +two bartenders just to see them kick, Ned Bannister said. Folks allow they knew +too much.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the law—the Government? Haven’t you a sheriff and officers?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bannister has. He elects the sheriff in this county.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t there more honest people here than villains?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ten times as many, but the trouble is that the honest folks can’t trust each +other. You see, if one of them made a mistake and confided in the wrong +man—well, some fine day he would go riding herd and would not turn up at +night. Next week, or next month, maybe, one of his partners might find a pile +of bones in an arroyo. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever seen this Bannister?” +</p> + +<p> +“You <i>must</i> speak lower when you talk of him, Miss Messiter,” the woman +insisted. “Yes, I saw him once; at least I think I did. Mighty few folks know +for sure that they have seen him. He is a mystery, and he travels under many +names and disguises.” +</p> + +<p> +“When was it you think you saw him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Two years ago at Ayr. The bank was looted that night and robbed of thirty +thousand dollars. They roused the cashier from his bed and made him give the +combination. He didn’t want to, and Ned Bannister”—her voice sank to a +tremulous whisper—“put red-hot running-irons between his fingers till he +weakened. It was a moonlight night—much such a night as this—and +after it was done I peeped through the blind of my room and saw them ride away. +He rode in front of them and sang like an angel—did it out of +daredeviltry to mock the people of the town that hadn’t nerve enough to shoot +him. You see, he knew that nobody would dare hurt him ’count of the revenge of +his men.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was he like?” the mistress of the Lazy D asked, strangely awed at this +recital of transcendent villainy. +</p> + +<p> +“’Course he was masked, and I didn’t see his face. But I’d know him anywhere. +He’s a long, slim fellow, built like a mountain lion. You couldn’t look at him +and ever forget him. He’s one of these graceful, easy men that go so fur with +fool women; one of the kind that half shuts his dark, devil eyes and masters +them without seeming to try.” +</p> + +<p> +“So he’s a woman killer, too, is he? Any more outstanding inconsistencies in +this versatile Jesse James?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s plumb crazy about music, they say. Has a piano and plays Grigg and +Chopping, and all that classical kind of music. He went clear down to Denver +last year to hear Mrs. Shoeman sing.” +</p> + +<p> +Helen smiled, guessing at Schumann-Heink as the singer in question, and Grieg +and Chopin as the composers named. Her interest was incredibly aroused. She had +expected the West and its products to exhilarate her, but she had not looked to +find so finished a Mephisto among its vaunted “bad men.” He was probably +overrated; considered a wonder because his accomplishments outstepped those of +the range. But Helen Messiter had quite determined on one thing. She was going +to meet this redoubtable villain and make up her mind for herself. Already, +before she had been in Wyoming six hours, this emancipated young woman had +decided on that. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III.<br/> +AN INVITATION GIVEN AND ACCEPTED</h2> + +<p> +And already she had met him. Not only met him, but saved him from the just +vengeance about to fall upon him. She had not yet seen her own ranch, had not +spoken to a single one of her employés, for it had been a part of her plan to +drop in unexpected and examine the situation before her foreman had a chance to +put his best foot forward. So she had started alone from Gimlet Butte that +morning in her machine, and had come almost in sight of the Lazy D ranch houses +when the battle in the coulée invited her to take a hand. +</p> + +<p> +She had acted on generous impulse, and the unforeseen result had been to save +this desperado from justice. But the worst of it was that she could not find it +in her heart to regret it. Granted that he was a villain, double-dyed and +beyond hope, yet he was the home of such courage, such virility, that her +unconsenting admiration went out in spite of herself. He was, at any rate, a +<i>man</i>, square-jawed, resolute, implacable. In the sinuous trail of his +life might lie arson, robbery, murder, but he still held to that dynamic spark +of self-respect that is akin to the divine. Nor was it possible to believe that +those unblinking gray eyes, with the capability of a latent sadness of despair +in them, expressed a soul entirely without nobility. He had a certain gallant +ease, a certain attractive candor, that did not consist with villainy +unadulterated. +</p> + +<p> +It was characteristic even of her impulsiveness that Helen Messiter curbed the +swift condemnation that leaped to her lips when she knew that the man sitting +beside her was the notorious bandit of the Shoshone fastnesses. She was not in +the least afraid. A sure instinct told her he was not the kind of a man of whom +a woman need have fear so long as her own anchor held fast. In good time she +meant to let him have her unvarnished opinion of him, but she did not mean it +to be an unconsidered one. Wherefore she drove the machine forward toward the +camelbacked peak he had indicated, her eyes straight before her, a frown +corrugating her forehead. +</p> + +<p> +For him, having made his dramatic announcement, he seemed content for the +present with silence. He leaned back in the car and appreciated her with a +coolness that just missed impudence. Certainly her appearance proclaimed her +very much worth while. To dwell on the long lines of her supple young body, the +exquisite throat and chin curve, was a pleasure with a thrill to it. As a +physical creation, a mere innocent young animal, he thought her perfect; +attuned to a fine harmony of grace and color. But it was the animating vitality +of her, the lightness of motion, the fire and sparkle of expression that gave +her the captivating charm she possessed. +</p> + +<p> +They were two miles nearer the camel-backed peak before he broke the silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Beats a bronco for getting over the ground. Think I’ll have to get one,” he +mused aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“With the money you took from the Ayr bank?” she flashed. +</p> + +<p> +“I might drive off some of your cows and sell them,” he countered, promptly. +“About how much will they hold me up for a machine like this?” +</p> + +<p> +“This is only a runabout. You can get one for twelve or fourteen hundred +dollars of anybody’s money.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of yours?” he laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t that much with me. If you’ll come over and hold up the ranch perhaps +we might raise it among us,” she jeered. +</p> + +<p> +His mirth was genuine. “But right now I couldn’t get more than how much off +y’u?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sixty-three dollars is all I have with me, and I couldn’t give you +more—<i>not even if you put red hot irons between my fingers</i>.” She +gave it to him straight, her blue eyes fixed steadily on him. +</p> + +<p> +Yet she was not prepared for the effect of her words. The last thing she had +expected was to see the blood wash out of his bronzed face, to see his +sensitive nostrils twitch with pain. He made her feel as if she had insulted +him, as if she had been needlessly cruel. And because of it she hardened her +heart. Why should she spare him the mention of it? He had not hesitated at the +shameless deed itself. Why should she shrink before that wounded look that +leaped to his fine eyes in that flash of time before he hardened them to steel? +</p> + +<p> +“You did it—didn’t you?” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what they say.” His gaze met her defiantly. +</p> + +<p> +“And it is true, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, anything is true of a man that herds sheep,” he returned, bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +“If that is true it would not be possible for you to understand how much I +despise you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” he retorted, ironically. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand at all. I don’t see how you can be the man they say you +are. Before I met you it was easy to understand. But somehow—I don’t +know—you don’t <i>look</i> like a villain.” She found herself strangely +voicing the deep hope of her heart. It was surely impossible to look at him and +believe him guilty of the things of which, he was accused. And yet he offered +no denial, suggested no defense. +</p> + +<p> +Her troubled eyes went over his thin, sunbaked face with its touch, of +bitterness, and she did not find it possible to dismiss the subject without +giving him a chance to set himself right. +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t be as bad as they say. You are not, are you?” she asked, naively. +</p> + +<p> +“What do y’u think?” he responded, coolly. +</p> + +<p> +She flushed angrily at what she accepted as his insolence. “A man of any +decency would have jumped at the chance to explain.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if there is nothing to explain?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are then guilty.” +</p> + +<p> +Their eyes met, and neither of them quailed. +</p> + +<p> +“If I pleaded not guilty would y’u believe me?” +</p> + +<p> +She hesitated. “I don’t know. How could I when it is known by everybody? And +yet—” +</p> + +<p> +He smiled. “Why should I trouble y’u, then, with explanations? I reckon we’ll +let it go at guilty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all you can say for yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to hang in doubt an instant, then shook his head and refused the +opening. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect if we changed the subject I could say a good deal for y’u,” he +drawled. “I never saw anything pluckier than the way y’u flew down from the +mesa and conducted the cutting-out expedition. Y’u sure drilled through your +punchers like a streak of lightning.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know who you were,” she explained, proudly. +</p> + +<p> +“Would it have made any difference if y’u had?” +</p> + +<p> +Again the angry flush touched her cheeks. “Not a bit. I would have saved you in +order to have you properly hanged later,” she cut back promptly. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head gayly. “I’m ce’tainly going to disappoint y’u some. Your +enterprising punchers may collect me yet, but not alive, I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll give them strict orders to bring you in alive.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever want the moon when y’u was a little kid?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll see, Mr. Outlaw Bannister.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed softly, in the quiet, indolent fashion that would have been pleasant +if it had not been at her. “It’s right kind of you to take so much interest in +me. I’d most be willing to oblige by letting your boys rope me to renew this +acquaintance, ma’am.” Then, “I get out here Miss Messiter,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +She stopped on the instant. Plainly she could not get rid of him too soon. +“Haven’t you forgot one thing?” she asked, ironically. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am. To thank you proper for what y’u did for me.” He limped gingerly +down from the car and stood with his hand on one of the tires. “I have been +trying to think how to say it right; but I guess I’ll have to give it up. All +is that if I ever get a chance to even the score—” +</p> + +<p> +She waved his thanks aside impatiently “I didn’t mean that. You have forgotten +to take my purse.” +</p> + +<p> +His gravity was broken on the instant, and his laughter was certainly +delightfully fresh. “I clean forgot, but I expect I’ll drop over to the ranch +for it some day.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll try to make to make you welcome, Mr. Bannister.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t put yourself out at all. I’ll take pot-luck when I come.” +</p> + +<p> +“How many of you may we expect?” she asked, defiantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I allow to come alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll very likely forget.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, ma’am, I don’t know so many ladies that I’m liable to such an oversight. +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard a different story. But if you do remember to come, and will let +us know when you expect to honor the Lazy D, I’ll have messengers sent to meet +you.” +</p> + +<p> +He perfectly understood her to mean leaden ones, and the humorous gleam in his +eye sparkled in appreciation of her spirit. “I don’t want all that fuss made +over me. I reckon I’ll drop in unexpected,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +She nodded curtly. “Good-bye. Hope your ankle won’t trouble you very much.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank y’u, ma’am. I reckon it won’t. Good-bye, Miss Messiter.” +</p> + +<p> +Out of the tail of her eye she saw him bowing like an Italian opera singer, as +impudently insouciant, as gracefully graceless as any stage villain in her +memory. Once again she saw him, when her machine swept round a curve and she +could look back without seeming to do so, limping across through the sage brush +toward a little hillock near the road. And as she looked the bare, curly head +was inclined toward her in another low, mocking bow. He was certainly the +gallantest vagabond unhanged. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br/> +AT THE LAZY D RANCH</h2> + +<p> +Helen Messiter was a young woman very much alive, which implies that she was +given to emotions; and as her machine skimmed over the ground to the Lazy D she +had them to spare. For from the first this young man had taken her eye, and it +had come upon her with a distinct shock that he was the notorious scoundrel who +was terrorizing the countryside. She told herself almost passionately that she +would never have believed it if he had not said so himself. She knew quite well +that the coldness that had clutched her heart when he gave his name had had +nothing to do with fear. There had been chagrin, disappointment, but nothing in +the least like the terror she might have expected. The simple truth was that he +had seemed so much a man that it had hurt her to find him also a wild beast. +</p> + +<p> +Deep in her heart she resented the conviction forced upon her. Reckless he +undoubtedly was, at odds with the law surely, but it was hard to admit that +attractive personality to be the mask of fiendish cruelty and sinister malice. +And yet—the facts spoke for themselves. He had not even attempted a +denial. Still there was a mystery about him, else how was it possible for two +so distinct personalities to dwell together in the same body. +</p> + +<p> +She hated him with all her lusty young will; not only for what he was, but also +for what she had been disappointed in not finding him after her first +instinctive liking. Yet it was with an odd little thrill that she ran down +again into the coulée where her prosaic life had found its first real +adventure. He might be all they said, but nothing could wipe out the facts that +she had offered her life to save his, and that he had lent her his body as a +living shield for one exhilarating moment of danger. +</p> + +<p> +As she reached the hill summit beyond the coulée, Helen Messiter was aware that +a rider in ungainly chaps of white wool was rapidly approaching. He dipped down +into the next depression without seeing her; and when they came face to face at +the top of the rise the result was instantaneous. His pony did an animated +two-step not on the programme. It took one glance at the diabolical machine, +and went up on its hind legs, preliminary to giving an elaborate exhibition of +pitching. The rider indulged in vivid profanity and plied his quirt vigorously. +But the bronco, with the fear of this unknown evil on its soul, varied its +bucking so effectively that the puncher astride its hurricane deck was forced, +in the language of his kind, to “take the dust.” +</p> + +<p> +His red head sailed through the air and landed in the white sand at the girl’s +feet. For a moment he sat in the road and gazed with chagrin after the +vanishing heels of his mount. Then his wrathful eyes came round to the owner of +the machine that had caused the eruption. His mouth had opened to give adequate +expression to his feelings, when he discovered anew the forgotten fact that he +was dealing with a woman. His jaw hung open for an instant in amaze; and when +he remembered the unedited vocabulary he had turned loose on the world a flood +of purple swept his tanned face. +</p> + +<p> +She wanted to laugh, but wisely refrained. “I’m very sorry,” was what she said. +</p> + +<p> +He stared in silence as he slowly picked himself from the ground. His red hair +rose like the quills of a porcupine above a face that had the appearance of +being unfinished. Neither nose nor mouth nor chin seemed to be quite definite +enough. +</p> + +<p> +She choked down her gayety and offered renewed apologies. +</p> + +<p> +“I was going for a doc,” he explained, by way of opening his share of the +conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“Then perhaps you had better jump in with me and ride back to the Lazy D. I +suppose that’s where you came from?” +</p> + +<p> +He scratched his vivid head helplessly. “Yes, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then jump in.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was going to Bear Creek, ma’am,” he added dubiously. +</p> + +<p> +“How far is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“’Bout twenty-five miles, and then some.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t expect to walk, do you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I allowed—” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take you back to the ranch, where you can get another horse.” +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon, ma’am, I’d ruther walk.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense! Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t used to them gas wagons.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s quite safe. There is nothing to be afraid of.” +</p> + +<p> +Reluctantly he got in beside her, as happy as a calf in a branding pen. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you the lady that sashaid off with Ned Bannister?” he asked presently, +after he had had time to smother successively some of his fear, wonder and +delight at their smooth, swift progress. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“The boys allow you hadn’t oughter have done it.” Then, to place the +responsibility properly on shoulders broader than his own, he added: “That’s +what Judd says.” +</p> + +<p> +“And who is Judd?” +</p> + +<p> +“Judd, he’s the foreman of the Lazy D.” +</p> + +<p> +Below them appeared the corrals and houses of a ranch nestling in a little +valley flanked by hills. +</p> + +<p> +“This yere’s the Lazy D,” announced the youth, with pride, and in the spirit of +friendliness suggested a caution. “Judd, he’s some peppery. You wanter smooth +him down some, seeing as he’s riled up to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +A flicker of steel came into the blue eyes. “Indeed! Well, here we are.” +</p> + +<p> +“If it ain’t Reddy, <i>and</i> the lady with the flying machine,” murmured a +freckled youth named McWilliams, emerging from the bunkhouse with a pan of +water which had been used to bathe the wound of one of the punctured +combatants. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” snapped a voice from within; and immediately its owner appeared +in the doorway and bored with narrowed black eyes the young woman in the +machine. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you?” he demanded, brusquely. +</p> + +<p> +“Your target,” she answered, quietly. “Would you like to take another shot at +me?” +</p> + +<p> +The freckled lad broke out into a gurgle of laughter, at which the black, +swarthy man beside him wheeled round in a rage. “What you cacklin’ at, Mac?” he +demanded, in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, the things I notice,” returned that youth jauntily, meeting the other’s +anger without the flicker of an eyelid. +</p> + +<p> +“It ain’t healthy to be so noticin’,” insinuated the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u don’t say,” came the prompt, sarcastic retort. “If you’re such a darned +good judge of health, y’u better be attending to some of your patients.” He +jerked a casual thumb over his shoulder toward the bunks on which lay the +wounded men. +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t wonder but what there might be another patient for me to attend +to,” snarled the foreman. +</p> + +<p> +“That so? Well, turn your wolf loose when y’u get to feelin’ real devilish,” +jeered the undismayed one, strolling forward to assist Miss Messiter to alight. +</p> + +<p> +The mistress of the Lazy D had been aware of the byplay, but she had caught +neither the words nor their import. She took the offered brown hand smilingly, +for here again she looked into the frank eyes of the West, unafraid and steady. +She judged him not more than twenty-two, but the school where he had learned of +life had held open and strenuous session every day since he could remember. +</p> + +<p> +“Glad to meet y’u, ma’am,” he assured her, in the current phrase of the +semi-arid lands. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I am glad to meet <i>you</i>,” she answered, heartily. “Can you tell +me where is the foreman of the Lazy D?” +</p> + +<p> +He introduced with a smile the swarthy man in the doorway. “This is him +ma’am—Mr. Judd Morgan.” +</p> + +<p> +Now it happened that Mr. Judd Morgan was simmering with suppressed spleen. +</p> + +<p> +“All I’ve got to say is that you had no business mixing up in that shootin’ +affair back there. Perhaps you don’t know that the man you saved is Ned +Bannister, the outlaw,” was his surly greeting. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, I know that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what d’ye mean—Who are you, anyway?” His insolent eyes coasted +malevolently over her. +</p> + +<p> +“Helen Messiter is my name.” +</p> + +<p> +It was ludicrous to see the change that came over the man. He had been prepared +to bully her; and with a word she had pricked the bubble of his arrogance. He +swallowed his anger and got a mechanical smile in working order. +</p> + +<p> +“Glad to see you here, Miss Messiter,” he said, his sinister gaze attempting to +meet hers frankly “I been looking for you every day.” +</p> + +<p> +“But y’u managed to surprise him, after all ma’am,” chuckled Mac. +</p> + +<p> +“Where’s yo’ hawss, Reddy?” inquired a tall young man, who had appeared +silently in the doorway of the bunkhouse. +</p> + +<p> +Reddy pinked violently. “I had an accident, Denver,” he explained. “This lady +yere she—” +</p> + +<p> +“Scooped y’u right off yore hawss. Y’u <i>don’t</i> say,” sympathized Mac so +breathlessly that even Reddy joined in the chorus of laughter that went up at +his expense. +</p> + +<p> +The young woman thought to make it easy for him, and suggested an explanation. +</p> + +<p> +“His horse isn’t used to automobiles, and so when it met this one—” +</p> + +<p> +“I got off,” interposed Reddy hastily, displaying a complexion like a boiled +beet. +</p> + +<p> +“He got off,” Mac explained gravely to the increasing audience. +</p> + +<p> +Denver nodded with an imperturbable face. “He got off.” +</p> + +<p> +Mac introduced Miss Messiter to such of her employés as were on hand. “Shake +hands with Miss Messiter, Missou,” was the formula, the name alone varying to +suit the embarrassed gentlemen in leathers. Each of them in turn presented a +huge hand, in which her little one disappeared for the time, and was sawed up +and down in the air like a pump-handle. Yet if she was amused she did not show +it; and her pleasure at meeting the simple, elemental products of the plains +outweighed a great deal her sense of the ludicrous. +</p> + +<p> +“How are your patients getting along?” she presently asked of her foreman. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon all right. I sent Reddy for a doc, but—” +</p> + +<p> +“He got off,” murmured Mac pensively. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go rope another hawss,” put in the man who had got off. +</p> + +<p> +“Get a jump on you, then. Miss Messiter, would you like to look over the +place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not now. I want to see the men that were hurt. Perhaps I can help them. Once I +took a few weeks in nursing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bully for you, ma’am,” whooped Mac. “I’ve a notion those boys are sufferin’ +for a woman to put the diamond-hitch on them bandages.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bring that suit-case in,” she commanded Denver, in the gentlest voice he had +ever heard, after she had made a hasty inspection of the first wounded man. +</p> + +<p> +From the suit-case she took a little leather medicine-case, the kind that can +be bought already prepared for use. It held among other things a roll of +medicated cotton, some antiseptic tablets, and a little steel instrument for +probing. +</p> + +<p> +“Some warm water, please; and have some boiling on the range,” were her next +commands. +</p> + +<p> +Mac flew to execute them. +</p> + +<p> +It was a pleasure to see her work, so deftly the skillful hands accomplished +what her brain told them. In admiring awe the punchers stood awkwardly around +while she washed and dressed the hurts. Two of the bullets had gone through the +fleshy part of the arm and left clean wounds. In the case of the third man she +had to probe for the lead, but fortunately found it with little difficulty. +Meanwhile she soothed the victim with gentle womanly sympathy. +</p> + +<p> +“I know it hurts a good deal. Just a minute and I’ll be through.” +</p> + +<p> +His hands clutched tightly the edges of his bunk. “That’s all right, doc. You +attend to roping that pill and I’ll endure the grief.” +</p> + +<p> +A long sigh of relief went up from the assembled cowboys when she drew the +bullet out. +</p> + +<p> +The sinewy hands fastened on the wooden bunk relaxed suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“’Frisco’s daid,” gasped the cook, who bore the title of Wun Hop for no reason +except that he was an Irishman in a place formerly held by a Chinese. +</p> + +<p> +“He has only fainted,” she said quietly, and continued with the antiseptic +dressing. +</p> + +<p> +When it was all over, the big, tanned men gathered at the entrance to the calf +corral and expanded in admiration of their new boss. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s a pure for fair. She grades up any old way yuh take her to the best +corn-fed article on the market,” pronounced Denver, with enthusiasm. +</p> + +<p> +“I got to ride the boundary,” sighed Missou. “I kinder hate to go right now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Here, too,” acquiesced another. “I got a round-up on Wind Creek to cut out +them two-year-olds. If ’twas my say-so, I’d order Mac on that job.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right kind of y’u. Seems to me”—Mac’s sarcastic eye trailed around to +include all those who had been singing her praises—“the new queen of this +hacienda won’t have no trouble at all picking a prince consort when she gets +round to it. Here’s Wun Hop, not what y’u might call anxious, but ce’tainly +willing. Then Denver’s some in the turtle-dove business, according to that +hash-slinger in Cheyenne. Missou might be induced to accept if it was offered +him proper; and I allow Jim ain’t turned the color of Redtop’s hair jest for +instance. I don’t want to leave out ’Frisco and the other boys carrying +Bannister’s pills—” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor McWilliams. I’d admire to include him,” murmured Denver. +</p> + +<p> +That sunburned, nonchalant youth laughed musically. “Sure thing. I’d hate to be +left out. The only difference is—” +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +His roving eye circled blandly round. “I stand about one show in a million. Y’u +roughnecks are dead ones already.” +</p> + +<p> +With which cold comfort he sauntered away to join Miss Messiter and the +foreman, who now appeared together at the door of the ranchhouse, prepared to +make a tour of the buildings and the immediate corrals. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t there a woman on the place?” she was asking Morgan. +</p> + +<p> +“No’m, there ain’t. Henderson’s daughter would come and stay with y’u a while I +reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please send for her at once, then, and ask her to come to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right. I’ll send one of the boys right away.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did y’u leave ’Frisco, ma’am?” asked Mac, by way of including himself +easily. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s resting quietly. Unless blood-poisoning sets in they ought all to do +well.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s right lucky for them y’u happened along. This is the hawss corral, +ma’am,” explained the young man just as Morgan opened his thin lips to tell +her. +</p> + +<p> +Judd contrived to get rid of him promptly. “Slap on a saddle, Mac, and run up +the remuda so Miss Messiter can see the hawsses for herself,” he ordered. +</p> + +<p> +“Mebbe she’d rather ride down and look at the bunch,” suggested the capable +McWilliams. +</p> + +<p> +As it chanced, she did prefer to ride down the pasture and look over the place +from on horseback. She was in love with her ranch already. Its spacious +distances, the thousands of cattle and the horses, these picturesque retainers +who served her even to the shedding of an enemy’s blood; they all struck an +answering echo in her gallant young heart that nothing in Kalamazoo had been +able to stir. She bubbled over with enthusiasm, the while Morgan covertly +sneered and McWilliams warmed to the untamed youth in her. +</p> + +<p> +“What about this man Bannister?” she flung out suddenly, after they had +cantered back to the house when the remuda had been inspected. +</p> + +<p> +Her abrupt question brought again the short, tense silence she had become used +to expect. +</p> + +<p> +“He runs sheep about twenty or thirty miles southwest of here,” explained +McWilliams, in a carefully casual tone. +</p> + +<p> +“So everybody tells me, but it seems to me he spills a good deal of lead on my +men,” she answered impatiently. “What’s the trouble?” +</p> + +<p> +“Last week he crossed the dead-line with a bunch of five thousand sheep.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who draws this dead-line?” +</p> + +<p> +“The cattlemen got together and drew it. Your uncle was one of those that +marked it off, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Bannister crossed it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am. Yesterday ’Frisco come on him and one of his herders with a big +bunch of them less than fifteen miles from here. He didn’t know it was +Bannister, and took a pot-shot at him. ’Course Bannister came back at him, and +he got Frisco in the laig.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t know it was Bannister? What difference WOULD that make?” she said +impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +Mac laughed. “What difference would it make, Judd?” +</p> + +<p> +Morgan scowled, and the young man answered his own question. “We don’t any of +us go out of our way more’n a mile to cross Bannister’s trail,” he drawled. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you wear this for an ornament? Are you upholstered with hardware to catch +the eyes of some girl?” she asked, touching with the end of her whip the +revolver in the holster strapped to his chaps. +</p> + +<p> +His serene, gay smile flashed at her. “Are y’u ordering me to go out and get +Ned Bannister’s scalp?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I am not,” she explained promptly. “What I am trying to discover is why +you all seem to be afraid of one man. He is only a man, isn’t he?” +</p> + +<p> +A veil of ice seemed to fall over the boyish face and leave it chiseled marble. +His unspeaking eyes rested on the swarthy foreman as he answered: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what he is, ma’am. He may be one man, or he may be a hundred. +What’s more, I ain’t particularly suffering to find out. Fact is, I haven’t +lost any Bannisters.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl became aware that her foreman was looking at her with a wary silent +vigilance sinister in its intensity. +</p> + +<p> +“In short, you’re like the rest of the people in this section. You’re afraid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now y’u’re shoutin’, Miss Messiter. I sure am when it comes to shootin’ off my +mouth about Bannister.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you, Mr. Morgan?” +</p> + +<p> +It struck her that the young puncher waited with a curious interest for the +answer of the foreman. +</p> + +<p> +“Did it look like I was afraid this mawnin’, ma’am?” he asked, with narrowed +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“No, you all seemed brave enough then, when you had him eight to one.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wasn’t there,” hastily put in McWilliams. “I don’t go gunning for my man +without giving him a show.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do,” retorted Morgan cruelly. “I’d go if we was fifty to one. We’d ’a’ got +him, too, if it hadn’t been for Miss Messiter. ’Twas a chance we ain’t likely +to get again for a year.” +</p> + +<p> +“It wasn’t your fault you didn’t kill him, Mr. Morgan,” she said, looking hard +at him. “You may be interested to know that your last shot missed him only +about six inches, and me about four.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know who you were,” he sullenly defended. +</p> + +<p> +“I see. You only shoot at women when you don’t know who they are.” She turned +her back on him pointedly and addressed herself to McWilliams. “You can tell +the men working on this ranch that I won’t have any more such attacks on this +man Bannister. I don’t care what or who he is. I don’t propose to have him +murdered by my employés. Let the law take him and hang him. Do you hear?” +</p> + +<p> +“I ce’tainly do, and the boys will get the word straight,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it since yuh are giving your orders through Mac, yuh don’t need me any +longer for your foreman,” bullied Morgan. +</p> + +<p> +“You take it right, sir,” came her crisp reply. “McWilliams will be my foreman +from to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +The man’s face, malignant and wolfish, suddenly lost its mask. That she would +so promptly call his bluff was the last thing he had expected. “That’s all +right. I reckon yuh think yuh know your own business, but I’ll put it to yuh +straight. Long as yuh live you’ll be sorry for this.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he wheeled away. +</p> + +<p> +She turned to her new foreman and found him less radiant than she could have +desired. “I’m right sorry y’u did that. I’m afraid y’u’ll make trouble for +yourself,” he said quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know myself just why.” He hesitated before adding: “They say him and +Bannister is thicker than they’d ought to be. It’s a cinch that he’s in cahoots +somehow with that Shoshone bunch of bad men.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—why, that’s ridiculous. Only this morning he was trying to kill +Bannister himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I don’t just savvy. There’s a whole lot about that business I +don’t get next to. I guess Bannister is at the head of them. Everybody seems +agreed about that. But the whole thing is a tangle of contradiction to me. I’ve +milled it over a heap in my mind, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are some of the contradictions?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, here’s one right off the bat, as we used to say back in the States. +Bannister is a great musician, they claim; fine singer, and all that. Now I +happen to know he can’t sing any more than a bellowing yearling.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know?” she asked, her eyes shining with interest. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I heard him try it. ’Twas one day last summer when I was out cutting +trail of a bunch of strays down by Dead Cow Creek. The day was hot, and I lay +down behind a cottonwood and dropped off to sleep. When I awakened it didn’t +take me longer’n an hour to discover what had woke me. Somebody on the other +side of the creek was trying to sing. It was ce’tainly the limit. Pretty soon +he come out of the brush and I seen it was Bannister.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re sure it was Bannister?” +</p> + +<p> +“If seeing is believing, I’m sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“And was his singing really so bad?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d hate ever to hear worse.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was he singing when you saw him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, he’d just quit. He caught sight of my pony grazing, and hunted cover real +prompt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it might have been another man singing in the thicket.” +</p> + +<p> +“It might, but it wasn’t. Y’u see, I’d followed him through the bush by his +song, and he showed up the moment I expected him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still there might have been another man there singing.” +</p> + +<p> +“One chance in a million,” he conceded. +</p> + +<p> +A sudden hope flamed up like tow in her heart. Perhaps, after all, Ned +Bannister was not the leader of the outlaws. Perhaps somebody else was +masquerading in his name, using Bannister’s unpopularity as a shield to cover +his iniquities. Still, this was an unlikely hypothesis, she had to admit. For +why should he allow his good name to be dragged in the dust without any effort +to save it? On a sudden impulse the girl confided her doubt to McWilliams. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t suppose there can be any mistake, do you? Somehow I can’t think him +as bad as they say. He looks awfully reckless, but one feels one could trust +his face.” +</p> + +<p> +“Same here,” agreed the new foreman. “First off when I saw him my think was, +‘I’d like to have that man backing my play when I’m sitting in the game with +Old Man Hard Luck reaching out for my blue chips.’” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t think faces lie, do you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve seen them that did, but, gen’rally speaking, tongues are a heap likelier +to get tangled with the truth. But I reckon there ain’t any doubt about +Bannister. He’s known over all this Western country.” +</p> + +<p> +The young woman sighed. “I’m afraid you’re right.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V.<br/> +THE DANCE AT FRASER’S</h2> + +<p> +“Heard tell yet of the dance over to Fraser’s?” +</p> + +<p> +He was a young man of a brick red countenance and he wore loosely round his +neck the best polka dot silk handkerchief that could be bought in Gimlet Butte, +also such gala attire as was usually reserved only for events of importance. +Sitting his horse carelessly in the plainsman’s indolent fashion, he asked his +question of McWilliams in front of the Lazy D bunkhouse. +</p> + +<p> +“Nope. When does the shindig come off?” +</p> + +<p> +“Friday night. Big thing. Y’u want to be there. All y’u lads.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mebbe some of us will ride over.” +</p> + +<p> +He of the polka dot kerchief did not appear quite satisfied. His glance +wandered toward the house, as it had been doing occasionally since the moment +of his arrival. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u bet this dance is ace high, Mac. Fancy costumes and masks. Y’u can rent +the costumes over to Slauson’s for three per. Texas, he’s going to call the +dances. Music from Gimlet Butte. Y’u want to get it tucked away in your thinker +that this dance ain’t on the order of culls. No, sirree, it’s cornfed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Glad to hear of it. I’ll cipher out somehow to be there, Slim.” +</p> + +<p> +Slim’s glance took in the ranchhouse again. He had ridden twenty-three miles +out of his way to catch a glimpse of the newly arrived mistress of the Lazy D, +the report of whose good looks and adventures had traveled hand in hand through +many cañons even to the heart of the Tetons. It had been on Skunk Creek that he +had heard of her three days before, and now he had come to verify the tongue of +rumor, to see her quite casually, of course, and do his own appraising. It +began to look as if he were going to have to ride off without a glimpse of her. +</p> + +<p> +He nodded toward the house, turning a shade more purple than his native +choleric hue. “Y’u want to bring your boss with y’u, Mac. We been hearing a +right smart lot about her and the boys would admire to have her present. It’s +going to be strictly according to Hoyle—no rough-house plays go, +y’understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll speak to her about it.” Mac’s deep amusement did not reach the surface. +He was quite well aware that Slim was playing for time and that he was too +bashful to plump out the desire that was in him. “Great the way cows are +jumpin’, ain’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure. Well, I’ll be movin’ along to Slauson’s. I just drapped in on my way. +Thought mebbe y’u hadn’t heard tell of the dance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Much obliged. Was it for old man Slauson y’u dug up all them togs, Slim? He’ll +ce’tainly admire to see y’u in that silk tablecloth y’u got round your neck.” +</p> + +<p> +Slim’s purple deepened again. “Y’u go to grass, Mac. I don’t aim to ask y’u to +be my valley yet awhile.” +</p> + +<p> +“C’rect. I was just wondering do all the Triangle Bar boys ride the range so +handsome?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t y’u worry about the Triangle Bar boys,” advised the embarrassed Slim, +gathering up his bridle reins. +</p> + +<p> +With one more reluctant glance in the direction of the house he rode away. When +he reached the corral he looked back again. His gaze showed him the boyish +foreman doubled up with laughter; also the sweep of a white skirt descending +from the piazza. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, ain’t that hoodooed luck?” the aggrieved rider of the Triangle Bar outfit +demanded of himself, “I made my getaway about three shakes too soon, by gum!” +</p> + +<p> +Her foreman was in the throes of mirth when Helen Messiter reached him. +</p> + +<p> +“Include me in the joke,” she suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I was just thinkin’,” he explained inadequately. +</p> + +<p> +“Does it always take you that way?” +</p> + +<p> +“About these boys that drop in so frequent on business these days. Funny how +fond they’re getting of the Lazy D. There was that stock detective happened in +yesterday to show how anxious he was about your cows. Then the two Willow Creek +riders that wanted a job punching for y’u, not to mention mention the Shoshone +miner and the storekeeper from Gimlet Butte and Soapy Sothern and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Still I don’t quite see the joke.” +</p> + +<p> +“It ain’t any joke with them. Serious business, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“What happened to start you on this line?” +</p> + +<p> +“The lad riding down the road on that piebald pinto. He come twenty miles out +of his way, plumb dressed for a wedding, all to give me an invite to a dance at +Fraser’s. Y’u would call that real thoughtful of him, I expect.” +</p> + +<p> +She gayly sparkled. “A real ranch dance—the kind you have been telling me +about. Are Ida and I invited?” +</p> + +<p> +“Invited? Slim hinted at a lynching if I came without y’u.” +</p> + +<p> +She laughed softly, merry eyes flashing swiftly at him. “How gallant you +Westerners are, even though you do turn it into burlesque.” +</p> + +<p> +His young laugh echoed hers. “Burlesque nothing. My life wouldn’t be worth a +thing if I went alone. Honest, I wouldn’t dare.” +</p> + +<p> +“Since the ranch can’t afford to lose its foreman Ida and I will go along,” she +promised. “That is, if it is considered proper here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Proper. Good gracious, ma’am! Every lady for thirty miles round will be there, +from six months old to eighty odd years. It wouldn’t be <i>proper</i> to stay +at home.” +</p> + +<p> +The foreman drove her to Fraser’s in a surrey with Ida Henderson and one of the +Lazy D punchers on the back seat. The drive was over twenty-five miles, but in +that silent starry night every mile was a delight. Part of the way led through +a beautiful cañon, along the rocky mountain road of which the young man guided +the rig with unerring skill. Beyond the gorge the country debouched into a +grassy park that fell away from their feet for miles. It was in this basin that +the Fraser ranch lay. +</p> + +<p> +The strains of the fiddle and the thumping of feet could be heard as they drove +up. Already the rooms seemed to be pretty well filled, as Helen noticed when +they entered. Three sets were on the floor for a quadrille and the house shook +with the energy of the dancers. On benches against the walls were seated the +spectators, and on one of them stood Texas calling the dance. +</p> + +<p> +“Alemane left. Right hand t’yer pardner and grand right and left. Ev-v-rybody +swing,” chanted the caller. +</p> + +<p> +A dozen rough young fellows were clustered near the front door, apparently +afraid to venture farther lest their escape be cut off. Through these +McWilliams pushed a way for his charges, the cowboys falling back respectfully +at once when they discovered the presence of Miss Messiter. +</p> + +<p> +In the bedroom where she left her wraps the mistress of the Lazy D found a +dozen or more infants and several of their mothers. In the kitchen were still +other women and babies, some of the former very old and of the latter very +young. A few of the babies were asleep, but most of them were still very much +alive to this scene of unwonted hilarity in their young lives. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as she emerged into the general publicity of the dancing room her +foreman pounced upon Helen and led her to a place in the head set that was +making up. The floor was rough, the music jerky and uncertain, the quadrilling +an exhibition of joyous and awkward abandon; but its picturesque lack of +convention appealed to the girl from Michigan. It rather startled her to be +swung so vigorously, but a glance about the room showed that these +humorous-eyed Westerners were merely living up to the duty of the hour as they +understood it. +</p> + +<p> +At the close of the quadrille Helen found herself being introduced to “Mr. +Robins,” alias Slim, who drew one of his feet back in an embarrassed bow. +</p> + +<p> +“I enjoy to meet y’u, ma’am,” he assured her, and supplemented this with a +request for the next dance, after which he fell into silence that was painful +in its intensity. +</p> + +<p> +Nearly all the dances were squares, as few of those present understood the +intricacies of the waltz and two-step. Hence it happened that the proficient +McWilliams secured three round dances with his mistress. +</p> + +<p> +It was during the lunch of sandwiches, cake and coffee that Helen perceived an +addition to the company. The affair had been advertised a costume ball, but +most of those present had construed this very liberally. She herself, to be +sure, had come as Mary Queen of Scots, Mac was arrayed in the scarlet tunic and +tight-fitting breeches of the Northwest Mounted Police, and perhaps eight or +ten others had made some attempt at representing some one other than they were. +She now saw another, apparently a new arrival, standing in the doorway +negligently. A glance told her that he was made up for a road agent and that +his revolvers and mask were a part of the necessary costuming. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly his gaze circled the room and came round to her. His eyes were hard as +diamonds and as flashing, so that the impact of their meeting looks seemed to +shock her physically. He was a tall man, swarthy of hue, and he carried himself +with a light ease that looked silken strong. Something in the bearing was +familiar yet not quite familiar either. It seemed to suggest a resemblance to +somebody she knew. And in the next thought she knew that the somebody was Ned +Bannister. +</p> + +<p> +The man spoke to Fraser, just then passing with a cup of coffee, and Helen saw +the two men approach. The stranger was coming to be formally introduced. +</p> + +<p> +“Shake hands with Mr. Holloway, Miss Messiter. He’s from up in the hill country +and he rode to our frolic. Y’u’ve got three guesses to figure out what he’s +made up as.” +</p> + +<p> +“One will be quite enough, I think,” she answered coldly. +</p> + +<p> +Fraser departed on his destination with the coffee and the newcomer sat down on +the bench beside her. +</p> + +<p> +“One’s enough, is it?” he drawled smilingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite, but I’m surprised so few came in costume. Why didn’t you? But I suppose +you had your reasons.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t I? I’m supposed to be a bad man from the hills.” +</p> + +<p> +She swept him casually with an indifferent glance. “And isn’t that what you are +in real life?” +</p> + +<p> +His sharp scrutiny chiseled into her. “What’s that?” +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t mind if I forget and call you Mr. Bannister instead of Mr. +Holloway?” +</p> + +<p> +She thought his counterfeit astonishment perfect. +</p> + +<p> +“So I’m Ned Bannister, am I?” +</p> + +<p> +Their eyes clashed. +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +She felt sure of it, and yet there was a lurking doubt. For there was in his +manner something indescribably more sinister than she had felt in him on that +occasion when she had saved his life. Then a debonair recklessness had been the +outstanding note, but now there was something ribald and wicked in him. +</p> + +<p> +“Since y’u put it as a question, common politeness demands an answer. Ned +Bannister is my name.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are the terror of this country?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shan’t be a terror to y’u, ma’am, if I can help it,” he smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“But you are the man they call the king?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have that honor.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Honor?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +At the sharp scorn of her accent he laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean that you are proud of your villainy?” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’ve ce’tainly got the teacher habit of asking questions,” he replied with a +laugh that was a sneer. +</p> + +<p> +A shadow fell across them and a voice said quietly, “She didn’t wait to ask any +when she saved your life down in the coulée back of the Lazy D.” +</p> + +<p> +The shadow was Jim McWilliams’s, and its owner looked down at the man beside +the girl with steady, hostile eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this your put in, sir?” the other flashed back. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, seh, it is. The boys don’t quite like seeing your hardware so prominent +at a social gathering. In this community guns don’t come into the house at a +ranch dance. I’m a committee to mention the subject and to collect your +thirty-eights if y’u agree with us.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if I don’t agree with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s all outdoors ready to receive y’u, seh. It would be a pity to stay in +the one spot where your welcome’s wore thin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still I may choose to stay.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ce’tainly, but if y’u decide that way y’u better step out on the porch and +talk it over with us where there ain’t ladies present.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t this a costume dance? What’s the matter with my guns? I’m an outlaw, +ain’t I?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know whether y’u are or not, seh. If y’u say y’u are we’re ready to +take your word. The guns have to be shucked if y’u stay here. They might go off +accidental and scare the ladies.” +</p> + +<p> +The man rose blackly. “I’ll remember this. If y’u knew who y’u were getting so +gay with—” +</p> + +<p> +“I can guess, Mr. Holloway, the kind of an outfit y’u freight with, and I +expect I could put a handle to another name for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“By God, if y’u dare to say—” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t dare, especially among so many ladies,” came McWilliams’s jaunty +answer. +</p> + +<p> +The eyes of the two men gripped, after which Holloway swung on his heel and +swaggered defiantly out of the house. +</p> + +<p> +Presently there came the sound of a pony’s feet galloping down the road. It had +not yet died away when Texas announced that the supper intermission was over. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardners for a quadrille. Ladies’ choice.” +</p> + +<p> +The dance was on again full swing. The fiddlers were tuning up and couples +gathering for a quadrille. Denver came to claim Miss Messiter for a partner. +Apparently even the existence of the vanished Holloway was forgotten. But Helen +remembered it, and pondered over the affair long after daylight had come and +brought with it an end to the festivities. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br/> +A PARTY CALL</h2> + +<p> +The mistress of the Lazy D, just through with her morning visit to the hospital +in the bunkhouse, stopped to read the gaudy poster tacked to the wall. It was +embellished with the drawing of a placid rider astride the embodiment of fury +incarnate, under which was the legend: “Stick to Your Saddle.” +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<big>BIG FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION AT GIMLET BUTTE.</big><br/> +ROPING AND BRONCO BUSTING CONTESTS FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD AND BIG +PRIZES,<br/> +Including $1,000 for the Best Rider and the Same for Best Roper. Cow Pony +Races, Ladies’ Races and Ladies’ Riding Contest, Fireworks,<br/> +AND FREE BARBECUE!!!!<br/> +<big>EVERYBODY COME AND TURN YOUR WOLF LOOSE.</big> +</p> + +<p> +A sudden thud of pounding hoofs, a snatch of ragtime, and her foreman swept up +in a cloud of white dust. His pony came from a gallop to an instant halt, and +simultaneously Mac landed beside her, one hand holding the wide-brimmed hat he +had snatched off in his descent, the other hitched by a casual thumb to the +belt of his chaps. +</p> + +<p> +She laughed. “You really did it very well.” +</p> + +<p> +Mac blushed. He was still young enough to take pride in his picturesque +regalia, to prefer the dramatic way of doing a commonplace thing. But, though +he liked this girl’s trick of laughing at him with a perfectly grave face out +of those dark, long-lashed eyes, he would have liked it better if sometimes +they had given back the applause he thought his little tricks merited. +</p> + +<p> +“Sho! That’s foolishness,” he deprecated. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose they got you to sit for this picture;” and she indicated the poster +with a wave of her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“That ain’t a real picture,” he explained, and when she smiled added, “as of +course y’u know. No hawss ever pitched that way—and the saddle ain’t +right. Fact is, it’s all wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did it come here? It wasn’t here last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon Denver brought it from Slauson’s. He was ridin’ that country +yesterday, and as the boys was out of smokin’ he come home that way.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you’ll all go?” +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you’ll ride?” +</p> + +<p> +“I aim to sit in.” +</p> + +<p> +“At the roping, too?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, m’m. I ain’t so much with the rope. It takes a Mexican to snake a rope.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’ll be able to borrow only a thousand dollars from you to help buy that +bunch of young cows we were speaking about,” she mocked. +</p> + +<p> +“Only a thousand,” he grinned. “And it ain’t a cinch I’ll win. There are three +or four straightup riders on this range. A fellow come from the +Hole-in-the-Wall and won out last year.” +</p> + +<p> +“And where were you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I took second prize,” he explained, with obvious indifference. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you had better get first this year. We’ll have to show them the Lazy D +hasn’t gone to sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure thing,” he agreed. +</p> + +<p> +“Has that buyer from Cheyenne turned up yet?” she asked, reverting to business. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet. Do y’u want I should make the cut soon as he comes?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you think his price is a little low—twenty dollars from brand up?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a scrub bunch. We want to get rid of them, anyway. But you’re the +doctor,” he concluded slangily. +</p> + +<p> +She thought a moment. “We’ll let him have them, but don’t make the cut till I +come back. I’m going to ride over to the Twin Buttes.” +</p> + +<p> +His admiring eyes followed her as she went toward the pony that was waiting +saddled with the rein thrown to the ground. She carried her slim, lithe figure +with a grace, a lightness, that few women could have rivaled. When she had +swung to the saddle, she half-turned in her seat to call an order to the +foreman. +</p> + +<p> +“I think, Mac, you had better run up those horses from Eagle Creek. Have Denver +and Missou look after them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure, ma’am,” he said aloud; and to himself: “She’s ce’tainly a thoroughbred. +Does everything well she tackles. I never saw anything like it. I’m a Chink if +she doesn’t run this ranch like she had been at it forty years. Same thing with +her gasoline bronc. That pinto, too. He’s got a bad eye for fair, but she makes +him eat out of her hand. I reckon the pinto is like the rest of us—clean +mashed.” He put his arms on the corral fence and grew introspective. “Blamed if +I know what it is about her. ’Course she’s a winner on looks, but that ain’t it +alone. I guess it’s on account of her being such a game little gentleman. When +she turns that smile loose on a fellow—well, there’s sure sunshine in the +air. And game—why, Ned Bannister ain’t gamer himself.” +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams had climbed lazily to the top board of the fence. He was an +energetic youth, but he liked to do his thinking at his ease. Now, as his gaze +still followed its lodestar, he suddenly slipped from his seat and ran forward, +pulling the revolver from its scabbard as he ran. Into his eyes had crept a +tense alertness, the shining watchfulness of the tiger ready for its spring. +</p> + +<p> +The cause of the change in the foreman of the Lazy D was a simple one, and on +its face innocent enough. It was merely that a stranger had swung in casually +at the gate of the short stable lane, and was due to meet Miss Messiter in +about ten seconds. So far good enough. A dozen travelers dropped in every day, +but this particular one happened to be Ned Bannister. +</p> + +<p> +From the stable door a shot rang out. Bannister ducked and shouted genially: +“Try again.” +</p> + +<p> +But Helen Messiter whirled her pony as on a half-dollar, and charged down on +the stable. +</p> + +<p> +“Who fired that shot?” she demanded, her eyes blazing. +</p> + +<p> +The horse-wrangler showed embarrassment. He had found time only to lean the +rifle against the wall. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon I did, ma’am. Y’u see—” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you get my orders about this feud?” she interrupted crisply. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am, but—” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you may call for your time. When I give my men orders I expect them to +obey.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldn’t ’a’ shot if I’d knowed y’u was so near him. Y’u was behind that +summer kitchen,” he explained lamely. +</p> + +<p> +“You only expect to obey orders when I’m in sight. Is that it?” she asked +hotly, and without waiting for an answer delivered her ultimatum. “Well, I +won’t have it. I run this ranch as long as I am its owner. Do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am. I hadn’t ought to have did it, but when I seen Bannister it come +over me I owed him a pill for the one he sent me last week down in the coulée. +So I up and grabbed the rifle and let him have it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you may up and grab your trunk for Medicine Hill. Shorty will drive you +tomorrow.” +</p> + +<p> +When she returned to her unexpected guest, Helen found him in conversation with +McWilliams. The latter’s gun had found again its holster, but his brown, +graceful hand hovered close to its butt. +</p> + +<p> +“Seems like a long time since the Lazy D has been honored by a visit from Mr. +Bannister,” he was saying, with gentle irony. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right. So I have come to make up for lost time,” came Bannister’s quiet +retort. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Messiter did not know much about Wyoming human nature in the raw, but she +had learned enough to be sure that the soft courtesy of these two youths +covered a stark courage that might leap to life any moment. Wherefore she +interposed. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll be pleased to show you over the place, Mr. Bannister. As it happens, we +are close to the hospital. Shall we begin there?” +</p> + +<p> +Her cool, silken defiance earned a smile from the visitor. “All your cases +doing well, ma’am?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very kind of you to ask. I suppose you take an interest because they are +<i>your</i> cases, too, in a way of speaking?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mine? Indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. If it were not for you I’m afraid our hospital would be empty.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be right pleasant to be nursed by Miss Messiter. I reckon the boys are +grateful to me for scattering my lead so promiscuous.” +</p> + +<p> +“I heard one say he would like to lam your haid tenderly,” murmured McWilliams. +</p> + +<p> +“With a two-by-four, I suppose,” laughed Bannister. +</p> + +<p> +“Shouldn’t wonder. But, looking y’u over casual, it occurs to me he might get +sick of his job befo’ he turned y’u loose,” McWilliams admitted, with a glance +of admiration at the clean power showing in the other’s supple lines. +</p> + +<p> +Nor could either the foreman or his mistress deny the tribute of their respect +to the bravado of this scamp who sat so jauntily his seat regardless of what +the next moment might bring forth. Three wounded men were about the place, all +presumably quite willing to get a clean shot at him in the open. One of them +had taken his chance already, and missed. Their visitor had no warrant for +knowing that a second might not any instant try his luck with better success. +Yet he looked every inch the man on horseback, no whit disturbed, not the least +conscious of any danger. Tall, spare, broad shouldered, this berry-brown young +man, crowned with close-cropped curls, sat at the gates of the enemy very much +at his insolent ease. +</p> + +<p> +“I came over to pay my party call,” he explained. +</p> + +<p> +“It really wasn’t necessary. A run in the machine is not a formal function.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe not in Kalamazoo.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought perhaps you had come to get my purse and the sixty-three dollars,” +she derided. +</p> + +<p> +“No, ma’am; nor yet to get that bunch of cows I was going to rustle from you to +buy an auto. I came to ask you to go riding with me.” +</p> + +<p> +The audacity of it took her breath. Of all the outrageous things she had ever +heard, this was the cream. An acknowledged outlaw, engaged in feud with her +retainers over that deadly question of the run of the range, he had sauntered +over to the ranch where lived a dozen of his enemies, three of them still +scarred with his bullets, merely to ask her to go riding with him. The +magnificence of his bravado almost obliterated its impudence. Of course she +would not think of going. The idea! But her eyes glowed with appreciation of +his courage, not the less because the consciousness of it was so conspicuously +absent from his manner. +</p> + +<p> +“I think not, Mr. Bannister” and her face almost imperceptibly stiffened. “I +don’t go riding with strangers, nor with men who shoot my boys. And I’ll give +you a piece of advice, sir. That is, to burn the wind back to your home. +Otherwise I won’t answer for your life. My punchers don’t love you, and I don’t +know how long I can keep them from you. You’re not wanted here any more than +you were at the dance the other evening.” +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams nodded. “That’s right. Y’u better roll your trail, seh; and if y’u +take my advice, you’ll throw gravel lively. I seen two of the boys cutting +acrost that pasture five minutes ago. They looked as if they might be haided to +cut y’u off, and I allow it may be their night to howl. Miss Messiter don’t +want to be responsible for y’u getting lead poisoning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” Their visitor looked politely interested. “This solicitude for me is +very touching. I observe that both of you are carefully blocking me from the +bunkhouse in order to prevent another practice-shot. If I can’t persuade you to +join me in a ride, Miss Messiter, I reckon I’ll go while I’m still +unpunctured.” He bowed, and gathered the reins for departure. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment! Mr. McWilliams and I are going with you,” the girl announced. +</p> + +<p> +“Changed your mind? Think you’ll take a little <i>pasear</i>, after all?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to be responsible for your killing. We’ll see you safe off the +place,” she answered curtly. +</p> + +<p> +The foreman fell in on one side of Bannister, his mistress on the other. They +rode in close formation, to lessen the chance of an ambuscade. Bannister alone +chatted at his debonair ease, ignoring the responsibility they felt for his +safety. +</p> + +<p> +“I got my ride, after all,” he presently chuckled. “To be sure, I wasn’t +expecting Mr. McWilliams to chaperon us. But that’s an added pleasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would it be an added pleasure to get bumped off to kingdom come?” drawled the +foreman, giving a reluctant admiration to his aplomb. +</p> + +<p> +“Thinking of those willing boys of yours again, are you?” laughed Bannister. +“They’re ce’tainly a heap prevalent with their hardware, but their hunting +don’t seem to bring home any meat.” +</p> + +<p> +“By the way, how <i>is</i> your ankle, Mr. Bannister? I forgot to ask.” This +shot from the young woman. +</p> + +<p> +He enjoyed it with internal mirth. “They did happen on the target that time,” +he admitted. “Oh, it’s getting along fine, but I aim to do most of my walking +on horseback for a while.” +</p> + +<p> +They swept past the first dangerous grove of cottonwoods in safety, and rounded +the boundary fence corner. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re in that bunch of pines over there,” said the foreman, after a single +sweep of his eyes in that direction. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I see they are. You oughtn’t to let your boys wear red bandannas when +they go gunning, Miss Messiter. It’s an awful careless habit.” +</p> + +<p> +Helen herself could see no sign of life in the group of pines, but she knew +their keen, trained eyes had found what hers could not. Riding with one or +another of her cowboys, she had often noticed how infallibly they could read +the country for miles around. A scattered patch on a distant hillside, though +it might be a half-hour’s ride from them, told them a great deal more than +seemed possible. To her the dark spots sifted on that slope meant scrub +underbrush, if there was any meaning at all in them. But her riders could tell +not only whether they were alive, but could differentiate between sheep and +cattle. Indeed, McWilliams could nearly always tell whether they were +<i>her</i> cattle or not. He was unable to explain to her how he did it. By a +sort of instinct, she supposed. +</p> + +<p> +The pines were negotiated in safety, and on the part of the men with a +carelessness she could not understand. For after they had passed there was a +spot between her shoulder-blades that seemed to tingle in expectation of a +possible bullet boring its way through. But she would have died rather than let +them know how she felt. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps Bannister understood, however, for he remarked casually: “I wouldn’t be +ambling past so leisurely if I was riding alone. It makes a heap of difference +who your company is, too. Those punchers wouldn’t take a chance at me now for a +million dollars.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, they’re some haidstrong, but they ain’t plumb locoed,” agreed Mac. +</p> + +<p> +Fifteen minutes later Helen drew up at the line corner. “We’ll part company +here, Mr. Bannister. I don’t think there is any more danger from my men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Before we part there is something I want to say. I hold that a man has as much +right to run sheep on these hills as cows. It’s government land, and neither +one of us owns it. It’s bound to be a case of the survival of the fittest. If +sheep are hardier and more adapted to the country, then cows have got to +<i>vamos</i>. That’s nature, as it looks to me. The buffalo and the antelope +have gone, and I guess cows have got to take their turn.” +</p> + +<p> +Her scornful eyes burned him. “You came to tell me that, did you? Well, I don’t +believe a word of it. I’ll not yield my rights without a fight. You may depend +on that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Here, too,” nodded her foreman. “I’m with my boss clear down the line. And as +soon as she lets me turn loose my six-gun, you’ll hear it pop, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have not a doubt of it, Mr. McWilliams,” returned the sheepman blithely. “In +the meantime I was going to say that though most of my interests are in sheep +instead of cattle—” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought most of your interests were in other people’s property,” interrupted +the young woman. +</p> + +<p> +“It goes into sheep ultimately,” he smiled. “Now, what I am trying to get at is +this: I’m in debt to you a heap, Miss Messiter, and since I’m not all yellow +cur, I intend to play fair with you. I have ordered my sheep back across the +deadline. You can have this range to yourself for your cattle. The fight’s off +so far as we personally are concerned.” +</p> + +<p> +A hint of deeper color touched her cheeks. Her manner had been cavalier at +best; for the most part frankly hostile; and all the time the man was on an +errand of good-will. Certainly he had scored at her expense, and she was +ashamed of herself. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u mean that you’re going to respect the deadline? asked Mac in surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say quite that,” explained the sheepman. “What I said was that I +meant to keep on my side of it so far as the Lazy D cattle are concerned. I’ll +let your range alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“But y’u mean to cross it down below where the Bar Double-E cows run?” +</p> + +<p> +Bannister’s gay smile touched the sardonic face. “Do you invite the public to +examine your hand when you sit into a game of poker, Mr. McWilliams?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re dead right. It’s none of my business what y’u do so long as y’u keep +off our range,” admitted the foreman. “And next time the conversation happens +on Mr. Bannister, I’ll put in my little say-so that he ain’t all black.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s very good of you, sir,” was the other’s ironical retort. +</p> + +<p> +The girl’s gauntleted hand offered itself impulsively. “We can’t be friends +under existing circumstances, Mr. Bannister. But that does not alter the fact +that I owe you an apology. You came as a peace envoy, and one of my men shot at +you. Of course, he did not understand the reason why you came, but that does +not matter. I did not know your reason myself, and I know I have been very +inhospitable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you shaking hands with Ned Bannister the sheepman or Ned Bannister the +outlaw?” asked the owner of that name, with a queer little smile that seemed to +mock himself. +</p> + +<p> +“With Ned Bannister the gentleman. If there is another side to him I don’t know +it personally.” +</p> + +<p> +He flushed underneath the tan, but very plainly with pleasure. “Your opinions +are right contrary to Hoyle, ma’am. Aren’t you aware that a sheepman is the +lowest thing that walks? Ask Mr. McWilliams.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have known stockmen of that opinion, but—” +</p> + +<p> +The foreman’s sentence was never finished. From a clump of bushes a hundred +yards away came the crack of a rifle. A bullet sang past, cutting a line that +left on one side of it Bannister, on the other Miss Messiter and her foreman. +Instantly the two men slid from their horses on the farther side, dragged down +the young woman behind the cover of the broncos, and arranged the three ponies +so as to give her the greatest protection available. Somehow the weapons that +garnished them had leaped to their hands before their feet touched the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“That coyote isn’t one of our men. I’ll back that opinion high,” said +McWilliams promptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is he?” the girl whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what we’re going to find out pretty soon,” returned Bannister grimly. +“Chances are it’s me he is trying to gather. Now, I’m going to make a break for +that cottonwood. When I go, you better run up a white handkerchief and move +back from the firing-line. Turn Buck loose when you leave. He’ll stay around +and come when I whistle.” +</p> + +<p> +He made a run for it, zigzagging through the sage-brush so swiftly as to offer +the least certain mark possible for a sharpshooter. Yet twice the rifle spoke +before he reached the cottonwood. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Mac had fastened the handkerchief of his mistress on the end of a +switch he had picked up and was edging out of range. His tense, narrowed gaze +never left the bush-clump from which the shots were being pumped, and he was +careful during their retreat to remain on the danger side of the road, in order +to cover Helen. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess Bannister’s right. He don’t want us, whoever he is.” +</p> + +<p> +And even as he murmured it, the wind of a bullet lifted his hat from his head. +He picked it up and examined it. The course of the bullet was marked by a hole +in the wide brim, and two more in the side and crown. +</p> + +<p> +“He ce’tainly ventilated it proper. I reckon, ma’am, we’ll make a run for it. +Lie low on the pinto’s neck, with your haid on the off side. That’s right. Let +him out.” +</p> + +<p> +A mile and a half farther up the road Mac reined in, and made the Indian +peace-sign. Two dejected figures came over the hill and resolved themselves +into punchers of the Lazy D. Each of them trailed a rifle by his side. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a fine pair of ring-tailed snorters, ain’t y’u?” jeered the foreman. +“Got to get gay and go projectin’ round on the shoot after y’u got your orders +to stay hitched. Anything to say for yo’selves?” +</p> + +<p> +If they had it was said very silently. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Miss Messiter is going to pass it up this time, but from now on y’u don’t +go off on any private massacrees while y’u punch at the Lazy D. Git that? This +hyer is the last call for supper in the dining-cah. If y’u miss it, y’u’ll feed +at some other chuckhouse.” Suddenly the drawl of his sarcasm vanished. His +voice carried the ring of peremptory command. “Jim, y’u go back to the ranch +with Miss Messiter, <i>and keep your eyes open</i>. Missou, I need y’u. We’re +going back. I reckon y’u better hang on to the stirrup, for we got to travel +some. <i>Adios, señorita!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +He was off at a slow lope on the road he had just come, the other man running +beside the horse. Presently he stopped, as if the arrangement were not +satisfactory; and the second man swung behind him on the pony. Later, when she +turned in her saddle, she saw that they had left the road and were cutting +across the plain, as if to take the sharpshooter in the rear. +</p> + +<p> +Her troubled thoughts stayed with her even after she had reached the ranch. She +was nervously excited, keyed up to a high pitch; for she knew that out on the +desert, within a mile or two of her, men were stalking each other with life or +death in the balance as the price of vigilance, skill and an unflawed steel +nerve. While she herself had been in danger, she had been mistress of her fear. +But now she could do nothing but wait, after ordering out such reinforcements +as she could recruit without delay; and the inaction told upon her swift, +impulsive temperament. Once, twice, the wind brought to her a faint sound. +</p> + +<p> +She had been pacing the porch, but she stopped, white as a sheet. Behind those +faint explosions might lie a sinister tragedy. Her mind projected itself into a +score of imaginary possibilities. She listened, breathless in her tensity, but +no further echo of that battlefield reached her. The sun still shone warmly on +brown Wyoming. She looked down into a rolling plain that blurred in the +distance from knobs and flat spaces into a single stretch that included a +thousand rises and depressions. That roll of country teemed with life, but the +steady, inexorable sun beat down on what seemed a shining, primeval waste of +space. Yet somewhere in that space the tragedy was being +determined—unless it had been already enacted. +</p> + +<p> +She wanted to scream. The very stillness mocked her. So, too, did the clicking +windmill, with its monotonous regularity. Her pony still stood saddled in the +yard. She knew that her place was at home, and she fought down a dozen times +the tremendous impulse to mount and fly to the field of combat. +</p> + +<p> +She looked at her watch. How slowly the minutes dragged! It could not be only +five minutes since she had looked last time. Again she fell to pacing the long +west porch, and interrupted herself a dozen times to stop and listen. +</p> + +<p> +“I can bear it no longer,” she told herself at last, and in another moment was +in the saddle plying her pinto with the quirt. +</p> + +<p> +But before she reached the first cottonwoods she saw them coming. Her glasses +swept the distant group, and with a shiver she made out the dreadful truth. +They were coming slowly, carrying something between them. The girl did not need +to be told that the object they were bringing home was their dead or wounded. +</p> + +<p> +A figure on horseback detached itself from the huddle of men and galloped +towards her. He was coming to break the news. But who was the victim? Bannister +or McWilliams she felt sure, by reason of the sinking heart in her; and then it +came home that she would be hard hit if it were either. +</p> + +<p> +The approaching rider began to take distinct form through her glasses. As he +pounded forward she recognized him. It was the man nicknamed Denver. The wind +was blowing strongly from her to him, and while he was still a hundred yards +away she hurled her question. +</p> + +<p> +His answer was lost in the wind sweep, but one word of it she caught. That word +was “Mac.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br/> +THE MAN FROM THE SHOSHONE FASTNESSES</h2> + +<p> +Though the sharpshooter’s rifle cracked twice during his run for the +cottonwood, the sheepman reached the tree in safety. He could dodge through the +brush as elusively as any man in Wyoming. It was a trick he had learned on the +whitewashed football gridiron. For in his buried past this man had been the +noted half-back of a famous college, and one of his specialties had been +running the ball back after a catch through a broken field of opponents. The +lesson that experience had then thumped into him had since saved his life on +more than one occasion. +</p> + +<p> +Having reached the tree, Bannister took immediate advantage of the lie of the +ground to snake forward unobserved for another hundred feet. There was a dip +from the foot of the tree, down which he rolled into the sage below. He wormed +his way through the thick scrub brush to the edge of a dry creek, into the bed +of which he slid. Then swiftly, his body bent beneath the level of the bank, he +ran forward in the sand. He moved noiselessly, eyes and ears alert to aid him, +and climbed the bank at a point where a live oak grew. +</p> + +<p> +Warily he peeped out from behind its trunk and swept the plain for his foe. +Nothing was to be seen of him. Slowly and patiently his eyes again went over +the semi-circle before him, for where death may lurk behind every foot of +vegetation, every bump or hillock, the plainsman leaves as little as may be to +chance. No faintest movement could escape the sheepman’s eyes, no least stir +fail to apprise his ears. Yet for many minutes he waited in vain, and the delay +told him that he had to do with a trained hunter rather than a mere reckless +cow-puncher. For somewhere in the rough country before him his enemy lay +motionless, every faculty alive to the least hint of his presence. +</p> + +<p> +It was the whirring flight of a startled dove that told Bannister the +whereabouts of his foe. Two hundred yards from him the bird rose, and the +direction it took showed that the man must have been trailing forward from the +opposite quarter. The sheepman slipped back into the dry creek bed, retraced +his steps for about a stone-throw, and again crawled up the bank. +</p> + +<p> +For a long time he lay face down in the grass, his gaze riveted to the spot +where he knew his opponent to be hidden. A faint rustle not born of the wind +stirred the sage. Still Bannister waited. A less experienced plainsman would +have blazed away and exposed his own position. But not this young man with the +steel-wire nerves. Silent as the coming of dusk, no breaking twig or displaced +brush betrayed his self-contained presence. +</p> + +<p> +Something in the clump he watched wriggled forward and showed indistinctly +through an opening in the underscrub. He whipped his rifle into position and +fired twice. The huddled brown mass lurched forward and disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +“Wonder if I got him? Seems to me I couldn’t have missed clean,” thought +Bannister. +</p> + +<p> +Silence as before, vast and unbroken. +</p> + +<p> +A scramble of running feet tearing a path through the brush, a crouching body +showing darkly for an eyeflash, and then the pounding of a horse’s retreating +feet. +</p> + +<p> +Bannister leaped up, ran lightly across the intervening space, and with his +repeater took a potshot at the galloping horseman. +</p> + +<p> +“Missed!” he muttered, and at once gave a sharp whistle that brought his pony +to him on the trot. He vaulted to the saddle and gave chase. It was rough +going, but nothing in reason can stop a cow-pony. As sure footed as a mountain +goat, as good a climber almost as a cat, Buck followed the flying horseman over +perilous rock rims and across deep-cut creek beds. Pantherlike he climbed up +the steep creek sides without hesitation, for the round-up had taught him never +to falter at stiff going so long as his rider put him at it. +</p> + +<p> +It was while he was clambering out of the sheer sides of a wash that Bannister +made a discovery. The man he pursued was wounded. Something in the manner of +the fellow’s riding had suggested this to him, but a drop of blood splashed on +a stone that happened to meet his eye made the surmise a certainty. +</p> + +<p> +He was gaining now—not fast, almost imperceptibly, but none the less +surely. He could see the man looking over his shoulder, once, twice, and then +again, with that hurried, fearful glance that measures the approach of +retribution. Barring accidents, the man was his. +</p> + +<p> +But the unforeseen happened. Buck stepped in the hole of a prairie dog and went +down. Over his head flew the rider like a stone from a catapult. +</p> + +<p> +How long Ned Bannister lay unconscious he never knew. But when he came to +himself it was none too soon. He sat up dizzily and passed his hand over his +head. Something had happened. +</p> + +<p> +What was it? Oh, yes, he had been thrown from his horse. A wave of recollection +passed over him, and his mind was clear once more. Presently he got to his feet +and moved rather uncertainly toward Buck, for the horse was grazing quietly a +few yards from him. +</p> + +<p> +But half way to the pony he stopped. Voices, approaching by way of the bed of +Dry Creek, drifted to him. +</p> + +<p> +“He must ’a’ turned and gone back. Mebbe he guessed we was there.” +</p> + +<p> +And a voice that Bannister knew, one that had a strangely penetrant, cruel ring +of power through the drawl, made answer: “Judd said before he fainted he was +sure the man was Ned Bannister. I’d ce’tainly like to meet up with my beloved +cousin right now and even up a few old scores. By God, I’d make him sick before +I finished with him!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll bet y’u would, Cap,” returned the other, admiringly. “Think we’d better +deploy here and beat up the scenery a few as we go?” +</p> + +<p> +There are times when the mind works like lightning, flashes its messages on the +wings of an electric current. For Bannister this was one of them. The whole +situation lighted for him plainly as if it had been explained for an hour. +</p> + +<p> +His cousin had been out with a band of his cut-throats on some errand, and +while returning to the fastnesses of the Shoshone Mountains had stopped to noon +at a cow spring three or four miles from the Lazy D. Judd Morgan, whom he knew +to be a lieutenant of the notorious bandit, had ridden toward the ranch in the +hope of getting an opportunity to vent his anger against its mistress or some +of her men. While pursuing the renegade Bannister had stumbled into a hornet’s +nest, and was in imminent danger of being stung to death. Even now the last +speaker was scrambling up the bank toward him. +</p> + +<p> +The sheepman had to choose between leaving his rifle and immediate flight. The +latter was such a forlorn hope that he gave up Buck for the moment, and ran +back to the place where his repeating Winchester had fallen. Without stopping +he scooped the rifle up as he passed. In his day he had been a famous sprinter, +and he scudded now for dear life. It was no longer a question of secrecy. The +sound of men breaking their hurried way through the heavy brush of the creek +bank came crisply to him. A voice behind shouted a warning, and from not a +hundred yards in front of him came an answering shout. Hemmed in from the fore +and the rear, he swung off at a right angle. An open stretch lay before him, +but he had to take his desperate chance without cover. Anything was better than +to be trapped like a wild beast driven by the beaters to the guns. +</p> + +<p> +Across the bare, brown mesa he plunged; and before he had taken a dozen steps +the first rifle had located its prey and was sniping at him. He had perhaps a +hundred yards to cover ere the mesa fell away into a hollow, where he might +find temporary protection in the scrub pines. And now a second marksman joined +himself to the first. But he was going fast, already had covered half the +distance, and it is no easy thing to bring down a live, dodging target. +</p> + +<p> +Again the first gun spoke, and scored another miss, whereat a mocking, devilish +laugh rang out in the sunshine. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u boys splash a heap of useless lead around the horizon. I reckon Cousin +Ned’s my meat. Y’u see, I get him in the flapper without spoiling him +complete.” And at the word he flung the rifle to his shoulder and fired with no +apparent aim. +</p> + +<p> +The running man doubled up like a cottontail, but found his feet again in an +instant, though one arm hung limp by his side. He was within a dozen feet of +the hilldrop and momentary safety. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I take him, Cap?” cried one of the men. +</p> + +<p> +“No; he’s mine.” The rifle smoked once more and again the runner went down. But +this time he plunged headlong down the slope and out of sight. +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw chief turned on his heel. “I reckon he’ll not run any more to-day. +Bring him into camp and we’ll take him along with us,” he said carelessly, and +walked away to his horse in the creek bed. +</p> + +<p> +Two of the men started forward, but they stopped half way, as if rooted to the +ground. For a galloping horseman suddenly drew up at the very point for which +they were starting. He leaped to the ground and warned them back with his +rifle. While he covered them a second man rode up and lifted Bannister to his +saddle. +</p> + +<p> +“Ready, Mac,” he gave the word, and both horses disappeared with their riders +over the brow of the hill. When the surprised desperadoes recovered themselves +and reached that point the rescuers had disappeared in the heavy brush. +</p> + +<p> +The alarm was at once given, and their captain, cursing them in a raucous +bellow for their blunder, ordered immediate pursuit. It was some little time +before the trail of the fugitives was picked up, but once discovered they were +over hauled rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re not going to get out without swapping lead,” McWilliams admitted +anxiously. “I wisht y’u wasn’t hampered with that load, but I reckon I’ll have +to try to stand them off alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“We bucked into a slice of luck when I opened on his bronc mavericking around +alone. Hadn’t been for that we could never have made it,” said Missou, who +never crossed a bridge until he came to it. +</p> + +<p> +“We haven’t made it yet, old hoss, not by a long mile, and two more on top o’ +that. They’re beginning to pump lead already. Huh! Got to drap your pills +closer’n that ’fore y’u worry me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe he’s daid, anyway,” said Missou presently, peering down into the +white face of the unconscious man. +</p> + +<p> +“Got to hang onto the remains, anyhow, for Miss Helen. Those coyotes are too +much of the wolf breed to leave him with them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Looks like they’re gittin’ the aim some better,” equably remarked the other a +minute later, when a spurt of sand flew up in front of him. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re ce’tainly crowding us. I expaict I better send them a ‘How-de-do?’ so +as to discourage them a few.” He took as careful aim as he could on the +galloping horse, but his bullet went wide. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re gaining like sixty. It’s my offhand opinion we better stop at that +bunch of trees and argue some with them. No use buck-jumpin’ along to burn the +wind while they drill streaks of light through us.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right. Take the trees. Y’u’ll be able to get into the game some then.” +</p> + +<p> +They debouched from the road to the little grove and slipped from their horses. +</p> + +<p> +“Deader’n hell,” murmured Missou, as he lifted the limp body from his horse. +“But I guess we’ll pack what’s left back to the little lady at the Lazy D.” +</p> + +<p> +The leader of the pursuers halted his men just out of range and came forward +alone, holding his right hand up in the usual signal of peace. In appearance he +was not unlike Ned Bannister. There was the same long, slim, tiger build, with +the flowing muscles rippling easily beneath the loose shirt; the same effect of +power and dominance, the same clean, springy stride. The pose of the head, too, +even the sweep of salient jaw, bore a marked resemblance. But similarity ceased +at the expression. For instead of frankness there lurked here that hint of the +devil of strong passion uncontrolled. He was the victim of his own moods, and +in the space of an hour one might, perhaps, read in that face cold cunning, +cruel malignity, leering ribaldry, as well as the hard-bitten virtues of +unflinching courage and implacable purpose. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon you’re near enough,” suggested Mac, when the man had approached to +within a hundred feet of the tree clump. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Y’u’re</i> drawing the dead-line,” the other acknowledged, indolently. “It +won’t take ten words to tell y’u what I want and mean to have. I’m giving y’u +two minutes to hand me over the body of Ned Bannister. If y’u don’t see it that +way I’ll come and make a lead mine of your whole outfit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u can’t come too quick, seh. We’re here a-shootin’, and don’t y’u forget +it,” was McWilliams’s prompt answer. +</p> + +<p> +The sinister face of the man from the Shoshones darkened. “Y’u’ve signed your +own death warrants,” he let out through set teeth, and at the word swung on his +heel. +</p> + +<p> +“The ball’s about to open. Pardners for a waltz. Have a dust-cutter, Mac, +before she grows warm.” +</p> + +<p> +The puncher handed over his flask, and the other held it before his eye and +appraised the contents in approved fashion. “Don’t mind if I do. Here’s how!” +</p> + +<p> +“How!” echoed Missou, in turn, and tipped up the bottle till the liquor gurgled +down his baked throat. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s fanning out his men so as to, get us both at the front and back door. +Lucky there ain’t but four of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I guess we better lie back to back,” proposed Missou. “If our luck’s good I +reckon they’re going to have a gay time rushing this fort.” +</p> + +<p> +A few desultory shots had already been dropped among the cottonwoods, and +returned by the defendants when Missou let out a yell of triumph. +</p> + +<p> +“Glory Hallelujah! Here comes the boys splittin’ down the road +hell-for-leather. That lopsided, ring-tailed snorter of a hawss-thief is +gathering his wolves for a hike back to the tall timber. Feed me a cigareet, +Mac. I plumb want to celebrate.” +</p> + +<p> +It was as the cow-puncher had said. Down the road a cloud of dust was sweeping +toward them, in the centre of which they made out three hardriding cowboys from +the ranch. Farther back, in the distance, was another dust whirl. The outlaw +chief’s hard, vigilant gaze swept over the reinforcements! and decided +instantly that the game had gone against him for the present. He whistled +shrilly twice, and began a slow retreat toward the hills. The miscreants flung +a few defiant shots at the advancing cowmen, and disappeared, swallowed up in +the earth swells. +</p> + +<p> +The homeward march was a slow one, for Bannister had begun to show signs of +consciousness and it was necessary to carry him with extreme care. While they +were still a mile from the ranch house the pinto and its rider could be seen +loping toward them. +</p> + +<p> +“Ride forward, Denver, and tell Miss Helen we’re coming. Better have her get +everything fixed to doctor him soon as we get there. Give him the best show in +the world, and he’ll still be sailing awful close to the divide. I’ll bet a +hundred plunks he’ll cash in, anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Done!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +The voice came faintly from the improvised litter. Mac turned with a start, for +he had not known that Bannister was awake to his surroundings. The man appeared +the picture of helplessness, all the lusty power and vigor stricken out of him; +but his indomitable spirit still triumphed over the physical collapse, for as +the foreman looked a faint smile touched the ashen lips. It seemed to say: +“Still in the ring, old man.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br/> +IN THE LAZY D HOSPITAL</h2> + +<p> +Helen’s first swift glance showed that the wounded man was Bannister. She +turned in crisp command to her foreman. +</p> + +<p> +“Have him taken to my room and put to bed there. We have no time to prepare +another. And send one of the boys on your best horse for a doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +They carried the limp figure in with rough tenderness and laid him in the bed. +McWilliams unbuckled the belt and drew off the chaps; then, with the help of +Denver, undressed the wounded man and covered him with quilts. So Helen found +him when she came in to attend his wounds, bringing with her such things as she +needed for her task. Mrs. Winslow, the housekeeper, assisted her, and the +foreman stayed to help, but it was on the mistress of the ranch that the +responsibility of saving him fell. Missou was already galloping to Bear Creek +for a doctor, but the girl knew that the battle must be fought and the issue +decided before he could arrive. +</p> + +<p> +He had fallen again into insensibility and she rinsed and dressed his wounds, +working with the quiet impersonal certainty of touch that did not betray the +inner turmoil of her soul. But McWilliams, his eyes following her every motion +and alert to anticipate her needs, saw that the color had washed from her face +and that she was controlling herself only to meet the demands of the occasion. +</p> + +<p> +As she was finishing, the sheepman opened his eyes and looked at her. +</p> + +<p> +“You are not to speak or ask questions. You have been wounded and we are going +to take care of you,” she ordered. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right good of y’u. I ce’tainly feel mighty trifling.” His wide eyes +traveled round till they fell on the foreman. “Y’u see I came back to help fill +your hospital. Am I there now? Where am I?” His gaze returned to Helen with the +sudden irritation of the irresponsible sick. +</p> + +<p> +“You are at the Lazy D, in my room. You are not to worry about anything. +Everything’s all right.” +</p> + +<p> +He took her at her word and his eyes closed; but presently he began to mutter +unconnected words and phrases. When his lids lifted again there was a wilder +look in his eyes, and she knew that delirium was beginning. At intervals it +lasted for long; indeed, until the doctor came next morning in the small hours. +He talked of many things Helen Messiter did not understand, of incidents in his +past life, some of them jerky with the excitement of a tense moment, others +apparently snatches of talk with relatives. It was like the babbling of a +child, irrelevant and yet often insistent. He would in one breath give orders +connected with the lambing of his sheep, in the next break into football talk, +calling out signals and imploring his men to hold them or to break through and +get the ball. Once he broke into curses, but his very oaths seemed to come from +a clean heart and missed the vulgarity they might have had. Again his talk +rambled inconsequently over his youth, and he would urge himself or someone +else of the same name to better life. +</p> + +<p> +“Ned, Ned, remember your mother,” he would beseech. “She asked me to look after +you. Don’t go wrong.” Or else it would be, “Don’t disgrace the general, Ned. +You’ll break his heart if you blacken the old name.” To this theme he recurred +repeatedly, and she noticed that when he imagined himself in the East his +language was correct and his intonation cultured, though still with a +suggestion of a Southern softness. +</p> + +<p> +But when he spoke of her his speech lapsed into the familiar drawl of +Cattleland. “I ain’t such a sweep as y’u think, girl. Some day I’ll sure tell +y’u all about it, and how I have loved y’u ever since y’u scooped me up in your +car. You’re the gamest little lady! To see y’u come a-sailin’ down after me, so +steady and businesslike, not turning a hair when the bullets hummed—I +sure do love y’u, Helen.” And then he fell upon her first name and called her +by it a hundred times softly to himself. +</p> + +<p> +This happened when she was alone with him, just before the doctor came. She +heard it with starry eyes and with a heart that flushed for joy a warmer color +into her cheeks. Brushing back the short curls, she kissed his damp forehead. +It was in the thick of the battle, before he had weathered that point where the +issues of life and death pressed closely, and even in the midst of her great +fears it brought her comfort. She was to think often of it later, and always +the memory was to be music in her heart. Even when she denied her love for him, +assured herself it was impossible she could care for so shameful a villain, +even then it was a sweet torture to allow herself the luxury of recalling his +broken delirious phrases. At the very worst he could not be as bad as they +said; some instinct told her this was impossible. His fearless devil-may-care +smile, his jaunty, gallant bearing, these pleaded against the evidence for him. +And yet was it conceivable that a man of spirit, a gentleman by training at +least, would let himself lie under the odium of such a charge if he were not +guilty? Her tangled thoughts fought this profitless conflict for days. Nor +could she dismiss it from her mind. Even after he began to mend she was still +on the rack. For in some snatch of good talk, when the fine quality of the man +seemed to glow in his face, poignant remembrance would stab her with +recollection of the difference between what he was and what he seemed to be. +</p> + +<p> +One of the things that had been a continual surprise to Helen was the short +time required by these deep-cheated and clean-blooded Westerners to recover +from apparently serious wounds. It was scarce more than two weeks since +Bannister had filled the bunkhouse with wounded men, and already two of them +were back at work and the third almost fit for service. For perhaps three days +the sheepman’s life hung in the balance, after which his splendid constitution +and his outdoor life began to tell. The thermometer showed that the fever had +slipped down a notch, and he was now sleeping wholesomely a good part of his +time. Altogether, unless for some unseen contingency, the doctor prophesied +that the sheepman was going to upset the probabilities and get well. +</p> + +<p> +“Which merely shows, ma’am, what is possible when you give a sound man +twenty-four hours a day in our hills for a few years,” he added. “Thanks to +your nursing he’s going to shave through by the narrowest margin possible. I +told him to-day that he owed his life to you, Miss Messiter.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think you need have told him that Doctor,” returned that young woman, +not a little vexed at him, “especially since you have just been telling me that +he owes it to Wyoming air and his own soundness of constitution.” +</p> + +<p> +When she returned to the sickroom to give her patient his medicine he wanted to +tell her what the doctor had said, but she cut him off ruthlessly and told him +not to talk. +</p> + +<p> +“Mayn’t I even say ‘Thank you?’” he wanted to know. +</p> + +<p> +“No; you talk far too much as it is.” +</p> + +<p> +He smiled “All right. Y’u sit there in that chair, where I can see y’u doing +that fancywork and I’ll not say a word. It’ll keep, all right, what I want to +say.” +</p> + +<p> +“I notice you keep talking,” she told him, dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am. Y’u had better have let me say what I wanted to, but I’ll be good +now.” +</p> + +<p> +He fell asleep watching her, and when he awoke she was still sitting there, +though it was beginning to grow dark. He spoke before she knew he was awake. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to get well, the doctor thinks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he told me,” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Did he tell y’u it was your nursing saved me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Please don’t think about that.” +</p> + +<p> +“What am I to think about? I owe y’u a heap, and it keeps piling up. I reckon +y’u do it all because it’s your Christian duty?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“It is my duty, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say it wasn’t, though I expaict Bighorn County will forget to give +y’u a unanimous vote of thanks for doing it. I asked if y’u did it because it +was your duty?” +</p> + +<p> +“The reason doesn’t matter so that I do it,” she answered, steadily. +</p> + +<p> +“Reasons matter some, too, though they ain’t as important as actions out in +this country. Back in Boston they figure more, and since y’u used to go to +school back there y’u hadn’t ought to throw down your professor of ethics.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you think you have talked enough for the present?” she smiled, and +added: “If I make you talk whenever I sit beside you I shall have to stay +away.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s where y’u’ve ce’tainly got the drop on me, ma’am. I’m a clam till y’u +give the word.” +</p> + +<p> +Before a week he was able to sit up in a chair for an hour or two, and soon +after could limp into the living room with the aid of a walking stick and his +hostess. Under the tan he still wore an interesting pallor, but there could be +no question that he was on the road to health. +</p> + +<p> +“A man doesn’t know what he’s missing until he gets shot up and is brought to +the Lazy D hospital, so as to let Miss Messiter exercise her Christian duty on +him,” he drawled, cheerfully, observing the sudden glow on her cheek brought by +the reference to his unanswered question. +</p> + +<p> +He made the lounge in the big sunny window his headquarters. From it he could +look out on some of the ranch activities when she was not with him, could watch +the line riders as they passed to and fro and command a view of one of the +corrals. There was always, too, the turquoise sky, out of which poured a flood +of light on the roll of hilltops. Sometimes he read to himself, but he was +still easily tired, and preferred usually to rest. More often she read aloud to +him while he lay back with his leveled eyes gravely on her till the gentle, +cool abstraction she affected was disturbed and her perplexed lashes rose to +reproach the intensity of his gaze. +</p> + +<p> +She was of those women who have the heavenborn faculty of making home of such +fortuitous elements as are to their hands. Except her piano and such +knickknacks as she had brought in a single trunk she had had to depend upon the +resources of the establishment to which she had come, but it is wonderful how +much can be done with some Navajo rugs, a bearskin, a few bits of Indian +pottery and woven baskets and a judicious arrangement of scenic photographs. In +a few days she would have her pictures from Kalamazoo, pending which her touch +had transformed the big living room from a cheerless barn into a spot that was +a comfort to the eye and heart. To the wounded man who lay there slowly +renewing the blood he had lost the room was the apotheosis of home, less, +perhaps, by reason of what it was in itself than because it was the setting for +her presence—for her grave, sympathetic eyes, the sound of her clear +voice, the light grace of her motion. He rejoiced in the delightful intimacy +the circumstances made necessary. To hear snatches of joyous song and gay +laughter even from a distance, to watch her as she came in and out on her daily +tasks, to contest her opinions of books and life and see how eagerly she +defended them; he wondered himself at the strength of the appeal these simple +things made to him. Already he was dreading the day when he must mount his +horse and ride back into the turbulent life from which she had for a time, +snatched him. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll hate to go back to sheepherding,” he told her one day at lunch, looking +at her across a snow-white tablecloth upon which were a service of shining +silver, fragile china teacups and plates stamped Limoges. +</p> + +<p> +He was at the moment buttering a delicious French roll and she was daintily +pouring tea from an old family heirloom. The contrast between this and the dust +and the grease of a midday meal at the end of a “chuck wagon” lent accent to +his smiling lamentation. +</p> + +<p> +“A lot of sheepherding <i>you</i> do,” she derided. +</p> + +<p> +“A shepherd has to look after his sheep, y’u know.” +</p> + +<p> +“You herd sheep just about as much as I punch cows.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have to herd my herders, anyhow, and that keeps me on the move.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad there isn’t going to be any more trouble between you and the Lazy D. +And that reminds me of another thing. I’ve often wonered who those men could +have been that attacked you the day you were hurt.” +</p> + +<p> +She had asked the question almost carelessly, without any thought that this +might be something he wished to conceal, but she recognized her mistake by the +wariness that filmed his eyes instantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Room there for a right interesting guessing contest,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>You</i> wouldn’t need to guess,” she charged, on swift impulse. +</p> + +<p> +“Meaning that I know?” +</p> + +<p> +“You do know. You can’t deny that you now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, say that I know?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you going to tell?” +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. “Not just yet. I’ve got private reasons for keeping it quiet +a while.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure they are creditable to you,” came her swift ironic retort. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure,” he agreed, whimsically. “I must live up to the professional standard. +Honor among thieves, y’u know.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br/> +MISS DARLING ARRIVES</h2> + +<p> +Miss Messiter clung to civilization enough, at least, to prefer that her +chambermaid should be a woman rather than a Chinese. It did not suit her +preconceived idea of the proper thing that Lee Ming should sweep floors, dust +bric-a-brac, and make the beds. To see him slosh-sloshing around in his felt +slippers made her homesick for Kalamazoo. There were other reasons why the +proprieties would be better served by having another woman about the place; +reasons that had to do with the chaperone system that even in the uncombed West +make its claims upon unmarried young women of respectability. She had with her +for the present fourteen-year-old Ida Henderson, but this arrangement was +merely temporary. +</p> + +<p> +Wherefore on the morning after her arrival Helen had sent two letters back to +“the States.” One of these had been to Mrs. Winslow, a widow of fifty-five, +inviting her to come out on a business basis as housekeeper of the Lazy D. The +buxom widow had loved Helen since she had been a toddling baby, and her reply +was immediate and enthusiastic. Eight days later she had reported in person. +The second letter bore the affectionate address of Nora Darling, Detroit, +Michigan. This also in time bore fruit at the ranch in a manner worthy of +special mention. +</p> + +<p> +It was the fourth day after Ned Bannister had been carried back to the Lazy D +that Helen Messiter came out to the porch of the house with a letter in her +hand. She found her foreman sitting on the steps waiting for her, but he got up +as soon as he heard the fall of her light footsteps behind him. +</p> + +<p> +“You sent for me, ma’am?” he asked, hat in hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I want you to drive into Gimlet Butte and bring back a person whom you’ll +find at the Elk House waiting for you. I had rather you would go yourself, +because I know you’re reliable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, ma’am. How will I know him?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a woman—a spinster. She’s coming to help Mrs. Winslow. Inquire for +Miss Darling. She isn’t used to jolting two days in a rig, but I know you will +be careful of her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll surely be as careful of the old lady as if she was my own mother.” +</p> + +<p> +The mistress of the ranch smothered a desire to laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you will. At her age she may need a good deal of care. Be certain you +take rug enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take care of her the best I know how. Expect she’s likely rheumatic, but +I’ll wrop her up till she looks like a Cheyenne squaw when tourist is trying to +get a free shoot at her with camera.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please do. I want her to get a good impression of Wyoming so that she will +stay. I don’ know about the rheumatism, but you might ask her.” +</p> + +<p> +There were pinpoints of merriment behind the guileless innocence of her eyes, +but they came to the surface only after the foreman had departed. +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams ordered a team of young horse hitched, and presently set out on his +two day journey to Gimlet Butte. He reached that town in good season, left the +team at a corral and walked back to the Elk House. The white dust of the plains +was heavy on him, from the bandanna that loosely embraced the brown throat +above the flannel shirt to the encrusted boots but through it the good humor of +his tanned face smiled fraternally on a young woman he passes at the entrance +to the hotel. Her gay smile met his cordially, and she was still in his mind +while he ran his eye down the register in search of the name he wanted. There +it was—Miss Nora Darling, Detroit, Michigan—in the neatest of +little round letters, under date of the previous day’s arrivals. +</p> + +<p> +“Is Miss Darling in?” asked McWilliams of the half-grown son of the landlady +who served in lieu of clerk and porter. +</p> + +<p> +“Nope! Went out a little while ago. Said to tell anybody to wait that asked for +her.” +</p> + +<p> +Mac nodded, relieved to find that duty had postponed itself long enough for him +to pursue the friendly smile that had not been wasted on him a few seconds +before. He strolled out to the porch and decided at once that he needed a cigar +more than anything else on earth. He was helped to a realization of his need by +seeing the owner of the smile disappear in an adjoining drug store. +</p> + +<p> +She was beginning on a nut sundae when the puncher drifted in. She continued to +devote even her eyes to its consumption, while the foreman opened a casual +conversation with the drug clerk and lit his cigar. +</p> + +<p> +“How are things coming in Gimlet Butte?” he asked, by way of prolonging his +stay rather than out of desire for information. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, she certainly had the longest, softest lashes he had ever seen, and the +ripest of cherry lips, behind the smiling depths of which sparkled two rows of +tiny pearls. He wished she would look at <i>him</i> and smile again. There +wasn’t any use trying to melt a sundae with it, anyhow. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure, it’s a good year on the range and the price of cows jumping,” he heard +his sub-conscious self make answer to the patronizing inquiries of him of the +“boiled” shirt. +</p> + +<p> +“Funny how pretty hair of that color was especially when there was so much of +it. You might call it a sort of coppery gold where the little curls escaped in +tendrils and ran wild. A fellow—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I reckon most of the boys will drop around to the Fourth of July +celebration. Got to cut loose once in a while, y’u know.” +</p> + +<p> +A shy glance shot him and set him a-tingle with a queer delight. Gracious, what +pretty dark velvety lashes she had! +</p> + +<p> +She was rising already, and as she paid for the ice cream that innocent gaze +smote him again with the brightest of Irish eyes conceivable. It lingered for +just a ponderable sunlit moment or him. She had smiled once more. +</p> + +<p> +After a decent interval Mac pursued his <i>petite</i> charmer to the hotel. She +was seated on the porch reading a magazine, and was absorbedly unconscious of +him when he passed. For a few awkward moments he hung around the office, then +returned to the porch and took the chair most distant from her. He had sat +there a long ten minutes before she let her hands and the magazine fall into +her lap and demurely gave him his chance. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell me how far it is to the Lazy D ranch?” +</p> + +<p> +“Seventy-two miles as the crow flies, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +The conversation threatened to die before it was well born. Desperately +McWilliams tried to think of something to say to keep it alive without being +too bold. +</p> + +<p> +“If y’u were thinking of traveling out that way I could give y’u a lift. I just +came in to get another lady—an old lady that has just come to this +country.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, but I’m expecting a conveyance to meet me here. You didn’t happen +to pass one on the way, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I didn’t. What ranch were y’u going to, ma’am? +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Messiter’s—the Lazy D.” +</p> + +<p> +A suspicion began to penetrate the foreman’s brain. “Y’u ain’t Miss Darling?” +</p> + +<p> +“What makes you so sure I’m not?” she asked, tilting her dimpled chin toward +him aggressively. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’re too young,” he protested, helplessly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m no younger than you are,” came her quick, indignant retort. +</p> + +<p> +Thus boldly accused of his youth, the foreman blushed. “I didn’t mean that. +Miss Messiter said she was an old lady—” +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t tell fibs about it. She couldn’t have said anything of the kind. +Who are <i>you</i>, anyhow?” the girl demanded, with spirit. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m the foreman of the Lazy D, come to get Miss Darling. My name is +McWilliams—Jim McWilliams.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t need your first name, Mr. McWilliams,” she assured him, sweetly. “And +will you please tell me why you have kept me waiting here more than thirty +hours?” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Messiter didn’t get your letter in time. Y’u see, we don’t get mail every +day at the Lazy D,” he explained, the while he hopefully wondered just when she +was going to need his last name. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see why you don’t go after your mail every day at least, especially +when Miss Messiter was expecting me. To leave me waiting here thirty +hours—I’ll not stand it. When does the next train leave for Detroit?” she +asked, imperiously. +</p> + +<p> +The situation seemed to call for diplomacy, and Jim McWilliams moved to a +nearer chair. “I’m right sorry it happened, ma’am, and I’ll bet Miss Messiter +is, too. Y’u see, we been awful busy one way and ’nother, and I plumb neglected +to send one of the boys to the post-office.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t one of them walk over after supper?” she demanded, severely. +</p> + +<p> +He curbed the smile that was twitching at his facial muscles. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, o’ course it ain’t so far,—only forty-three +miles—still—” +</p> + +<p> +“Forty-three miles to the post-office?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am, only forty-three. If you’ll excuse me this time—” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it really forty-three?” +</p> + +<p> +He saw that her sudden smile had brought out the dimples in the oval face and +that her petulance had been swept away by his astounding information. +</p> + +<p> +“Forty-three, sure as shootin’, except twict a week when it comes to Slauson’s, +and that’s only twenty miles,” he assured her. “Used to be seventy-two, but the +Government got busy with its rural free delivery, and now we get it right at +our doors.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must have big doors,” she laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“All out o’ doors,” he punned. “Y’u see, our house is under our hat, and like +as not that’s twenty miles from the ranchhouse when night falls.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me!” She swept his graceful figure sarcastically. “And, of course, twenty +miles from a brush, too.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed with deep delight at her thrust, for the warm youth in him did not +ask for pointed wit on the part of a young woman so attractive and with a +manner so delightfully provoking. +</p> + +<p> +“I expaict I have gathered up some scenery on the journey. I’ll go brush it off +and get ready for supper. I’d admire to sit beside y’u and pass the butter and +the hash if y’u don’t object. Y’u see, I don’t often meet up with ladies, and +I’d ought to improve my table manners when I get a chanct with one so much +older than I am and o’ course so much more experienced.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see you don’t intend to pass any honey with the hash,” she flashed, with a +glimpse of the pearls. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Didn’t</i> y’u say y’u was older than me? I believe I’ve plumb forgot how +old y’u said y’u was, Miss Darling.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your memory’s such a sieve it wouldn’t be worth while telling you. After +you’ve been to school a while longer maybe I’ll try you again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Some ladies like ’em young,” he suggested, amiably. +</p> + +<p> +“But full grown,” she amended. +</p> + +<p> +“Do y’u judge by my looks or my ways?” he inquired, anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“By both.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right strange,” he mused aloud. “For judging by some of your ways +you’re the spinster Miss Messiter was telling me about, but judging by your +looks y’u’re only the prettiest and sassiest twenty-year-old in Wyoming.” +</p> + +<p> +And with this shot he fled, to see what transformation he could effect with the +aid of a whiskbroom, a tin pan of alkali water and a roller towel. +</p> + +<p> +When she met him at the supper table her first question was, “Did Miss Messiter +say I was an old maid?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sho! I wouldn’t let that trouble me if I was y’u. A woman ain’t any older than +she looks. Your age don’t show to speak of.” +</p> + +<p> +“But did she?” +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon she laid a trap for me and I shoved my paw in. She wanted to give me +a pleasant surprise.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t y’u grow anxious about being an old maid. There ain’t any in Wyoming to +speak of. If y’u like I’ll tell the boys you’re worried and some of them will +be Johnnie-on-the-Spot. They’re awful gallant, cowpunchers are.” +</p> + +<p> +“Some of them may be,” she differed. “If you want to know I’m just twenty-one.” +</p> + +<p> +He sawed industriously at his steak. “Y’u don’t say! Just old enough to +vote—like this steer was before they massacreed him.” +</p> + +<p> +She gave him one look, and thereafter punished him with silence. +</p> + +<p> +They left Gimlet Butte early next morning and reached the Lazy D shortly after +noon on the succeeding day. McWilliams understood perfectly that strenuous +competition would inevitably ensue as soon as the Lazy D beheld the attraction +he had brought into their midst. Nor did he need a phrenologist to tell him +that Nora was a born flirt and that her shy slant glances were meant to +penetrate tough hides to tender hearts. But this did not discourage him, and he +set about making his individual impression while he had her all to himself. He +wasn’t at all sure how deep this went, but he had the satisfaction of hearing +his first name, the one she had told him she had no need of, fall tentatively +from her pretty lips before the other boys caught a glimpse of her. +</p> + +<p> +Shortly after his arrival at the ranch Mac went to make his report to his +mistress of some business matters connected with the trip. +</p> + +<p> +“I see you got back safely with the old lady,” she laughed when she caught +sight of him. +</p> + +<p> +His look reproached her. “Y’u said a spinster.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it was you that insisted on the rheumatism. By the way, did you ask her +about it?” +</p> + +<p> +“We didn’t get that far,” he parried. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! How far did you get?” She perched herself on the porch railing and mocked +him with her friendly eyes. Her heart was light within her and she was ready +for anything in the way of fun, for the doctor had just pronounced her patient +out of danger if he took proper care of himself. +</p> + +<p> +“About as fur as I got with y’u, ma’am,” he audaciously retorted. +</p> + +<p> +“We might disagree as to how far that is,” she flung back gayly with heightened +color. +</p> + +<p> +“No, ma’am, I don’t think we would.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, gracious! You’re not a Mormon. You don’t want us both, do you?” she +demanded, her eyes sparkling with the exhilaration of the tilt. +</p> + +<p> +“Could I get either one of y’u, do y’u reckon? That’s what’s worrying me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see, and so you intend to keep us both on the string.” +</p> + +<p> +His joyous laughter echoed hers. “I expaict y’u would call that presumption or +some other dictionary word, wouldn’t y’u?” +</p> + +<p> +“In anybody else perhaps, but surely not in Mr. McWilliams.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m awful glad to be trotting in a class by myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you’ll let us know when you have made your mind up which of us it is to +be?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, mine ain’t the only mind that has to be made up,” he drawled. +</p> + +<p> +She took this up gleefully. “I can’t answer for Nora, but I’ll jump at the +chance—if you decide to give it to me.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed delightedly into the hat he was momentarily expecting to put on. +“I’ll mill it over a spell and let y’u know, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, think it over from all points of view. Of course she is prettier, but +then I’m not afflicted with rheumatism and probably wouldn’t flirt as much +afterward. I have a good temper, too, as a rule, but then so has Nora.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, she’s prettier, is she?” With boyish audacity he grinned at her. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think?” +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. “I’ll have to go to the foot of the class on that, ma’am. +Give me an easier one.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll have to choose another subject then. What did you do about that bunch of +Circle 66 cows you looked at on your way in?” +</p> + +<p> +They discussed business for a few minutes, after which she went back to her +patient and he to his work. +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t she a straight-up little gentleman for fair?” the foreman asked himself +in rhetorical and exuberant question, slapping his hat against his leg as he +strode toward the corral. “Think of her coming at me like she did, the blamed +little thoroughbred. Y’u bet she knows me down to the ground and how sudden I +got over any fool notions I might a-started to get in my cocoanut. But the way +she came back at me, quick as lightning and then some, pretendin’ all that +foolishness and knowin’ all the time I’d savez the game.” +</p> + +<p> +Both McWilliams and his mistress had guessed right in their surmise as to Nora +Darling’s popularity in the cow country. She made an immediate and pronounced +hit. It was astonishing how many errands the men found to take them to “the +house,” as they called the building where the mistress of the ranch dwelt. +Bannister served for a time as an excellent excuse. Judging from the number of +the inquiries which the men found it necessary to make as to his progress, +Helen would have guessed him exceedingly popular with her riders. Having a +sense of humor, she mentioned this to McWilliams one day. +</p> + +<p> +He laughed, and tried to turn it into a compliment to his mistress. But she +would have none of it. +</p> + +<p> +“I know better, sir. They don’t come here to see me. Nora is the attraction, +and I have sense enough to know it. My nose is quite out of joint,” she +laughed. +</p> + +<p> +Mac looked with gay earnestness at the feature she had mentioned. “There’s a +heap of difference in noses,” he murmured, apparently apropos of nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s another way of telling me that Nora’s pug is the sweetest thing you +ever saw,” she charged. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t half such a bad actor as some of the boys,” he deprecated. +</p> + +<p> +“Meaning in what way?” +</p> + +<p> +“The Nora Darling way.” +</p> + +<p> +He pronounced her name so much as if it were a caress that his mistress +laughed, and he joined in it. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s your fickleness that is breaking my heart, though I knew I was lost as +soon as I saw your beatific look on the day you got back with Nora. The first +week I came none of you could do enough for me. Now it’s all Nora, darling.” +She mimicked gayly his intonation. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, ma’am, it’s this way,” explained the foreman with a grin. “Y’u’re right +pleasant and friendly, but the boys have got a savvy way down deep that y’u’d +shuck that friendliness awful sudden if any of them dropped around with +‘Object, Matrimony’ in their manner. Consequence is, they’re loaded down to the +ground with admiration of their boss, but they ain’t presumptuous enough to +expaict any more. I had notions, mebbe, I’d cut more ice, me being not +afflicted with bashfulness. My notions faded, ma’am, in about a week.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then Nora came?” she laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“No, ma’am, they had gone glimmering long before she arrived. I was just +convalescent enough to need being cheered up when she drapped in.” +</p> + +<p> +“And are you cheered up yet?” his mistress asked. +</p> + +<p> +He took off his dusty hat and scratched his head. “I ain’t right certain, yet, +ma’am. Soon as I know I’m consoled, I’ll be round with an invite to the +wedding.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is, if you are.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I am—yes. Y’u can’t most always tell when they have eyes like hers.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re quite an authority on the sex considering your years.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am.” He looked aggrieved, thinking himself a man grown. “How did y’u +say Mr. Bannister was?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait, and I’ll send Nora out to tell you,” she flashed, and disappeared in the +house. +</p> + +<p> +Conversation at the bunkhouse and the chucktent sometimes circled around the +young women at the house, but its personality rarely grew pronounced. +References to Helen Messiter and the housemaid were usually by way of repartee +at each other. For a change had come over the spirit of the Lazy D men, and, +though a cheerful profanity still flowed freely when they were alone together, +vulgarity was largely banished. +</p> + +<p> +The morning after his conversation with Miss Messiter, McWilliams was washing +in the foreman’s room when the triangle beat the call for breakfast, and he +heard the cook’s raucous “Come and get it.” There was the usual stampede for +the tent, and a minute later Mac flung back the flap and entered. He took the +seat at the head of the table, along the benches on both sides of which the +punchers were plying busy knives and forks. +</p> + +<p> +“A stack of chips,” ordered the foreman; and the cook’s “Coming up” was +scarcely more prompt than the plate of hot cakes he set before the young man. +</p> + +<p> +“Hen fruit, sunny side up,” shouted Reddy, who was further advanced in his +meal. +</p> + +<p> +“Tame that fog-horn, son,” advised Wun Hop; but presently he slid three fried +eggs from a frying-pan into the plate of the hungry one. +</p> + +<p> +“I want y’u boys to finish flankin’ that bunch of hill calves to-day,” said the +foreman, emptying half a jug of syrup over his cakes. +</p> + +<p> +“Redtop, he ain’t got no appetite these days,” grinned Denver, as the gentleman +mentioned cleaned up a second loaded plate of ham, eggs and fried potatoes. “I +see him studying a Wind River Bible* yesterday. Curious how in the spring a +young man’s fancy gits to wandering on house furnishing. Red, he was taking the +catalogue alphabetically. Carpets was absorbin’ his attention, chairs on deck, +and chandeliers in the hole, as we used to say when we was baseball kids.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[* A Wind River Bible in the Northwest ranch country is a catalogue of one of +the big Chicago department stores that does a large shipping business in the +West.] +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t a word of truth in it,” indignantly denied the assailed, his unfinished +nose and chin giving him a pathetic, whipped puppy look. “Sho! I was just +looking up saddles. Can’t a fellow buy a new saddle without asking leave of +Denver?” +</p> + +<p> +“Cyarpets used to begin with a C in my spelling-book, but saddles got off right +foot fust with a S,” suggested Mac amiably. +</p> + +<p> +“He was ce’tainly trying to tree his saddle among the C’s. He was looking awful +loving at a Turkish rug. Reckon he thought it was a saddle-blanket,” derided +Denver cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Huh! Y’u’re awful smart, Denver,” retaliated Reddy, his complexion matching +his hair. “Y’u talk a heap with your mouth. Nobody believes a word of what y’u +say.” +</p> + +<p> +Denver relaxed into a range song by way of repartee: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“I want mighty bad to be married,<br/> + To have a garden and a home;<br/> +I ce’tainly aim to git married,<br/> + And have a gyurl for my own.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aw! Y’u fresh guys make me tired. Y’u don’t devil me a bit, not a bit. Whyfor +should I care what y’u say? I guess this outfit ain’t got no surcingle on me.” +Nevertheless, he made a hurried end of his breakfast and flung out of the tent. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u boys hadn’t ought to wound Reddy’s tender feelings, and him so bent on +matrimony!” said Denver innocently. “Get a move on them fried spuds and sashay +them down this way, if there’s any left when y’u fill your plate, Missou.” +</p> + +<p> +Nor was Reddy the only young man who had dreams those days at the Lazy D. Cupid +must have had his hands full, for his darts punctured more than one honest +plainsman’s heart. The reputation of the young women at the Lazy D seemed to +travel on the wings of the wind, and from far and near Cattleland sent devotees +to this shrine of youth and beauty. So casually the victims drifted in, always +with a good business excuse warranted to endure raillery and sarcasm, that it +was impossible to say they had come of set purpose to sun themselves in +feminine smiles. +</p> + +<p> +As for Nora, it is not too much to say that she was having the time of her +life. Detroit, Michigan, could offer no such field for her expansive charms as +the Bighorn country, Wyoming. Here she might have her pick of a hundred, and +every one of them picturesquely begirt with flannel shirt, knotted scarf at +neck, an arsenal that bristled, and a sun-tan that could be achieved only in +the outdoors of the Rockies. Certainly these knights of the saddle radiated a +romance with which even her floorwalker “gentleman friend” could not compete. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X.<br/> +A SHEPHERD OF THE DESERT</h2> + +<p> +It had been Helen Messiter’s daily custom either to take a ride on her pony or +a spin in her motor car, but since Bannister had been quartered at the Lazy D +her time had been so fully occupied that she had given this up for the present. +The arrival of Nora Darling, however, took so much work off her hands that she +began to continue her rides and drives. +</p> + +<p> +Her patient was by this time so far recovered that he did not need her constant +attendance and there were reasons why she decided it best to spend only a +minimum of her time with him. These had to do with her increasing interest in +the man and the need she felt to discourage it. It had come to a pretty pass, +she told herself scornfully, when she found herself inventing excuses to take +her into the room where this most picturesque of unhanged scamps was lying. +Most good women are at heart puritans, and if Helen was too liberal to judge +others narrowly she could be none the less rigid with herself. She might talk +to him of her duty, but it was her habit to be frank in thought and she knew +that something nearer than that abstraction had moved her efforts in his +behalf. She had fought for his life because she loved him. She could deny it no +longer. Nor was the shame with which she confessed it unmingled with pride. He +was a man to compel love, one of the mood imperative, chain-armored in the +outdoor virtues of strength and endurance and stark courage. Her abasement +began only where his superlation ended. That a being so godlike in equipment +should have been fashioned without a soul, and that she should have given her +heart to him. This was the fount of her degradation. +</p> + +<p> +It was of these things she thought as she drove in the late afternoon toward +those Antelope Peaks he had first pointed out to her. She swept past the scene +of the battle and dipped down into the plains for a run to that western horizon +behind the jagged mountain line of which the sun was radiantly setting in a +splash of glorious colors. Lost in thought, space slipped under her wheels +unnoticed. Not till her car refused the spur and slowed to a despondent halt +did she observe that velvet night was falling over the land. +</p> + +<p> +She prowled round the machine after the fashion of the motorist, examining +details that might be the cause of the trouble. She discovered soon enough with +instant dismay that the gasolene tank was empty. Reddy, always unreliable, must +have forgotten to fill it when she told him to. +</p> + +<p> +By the road she must be thirty miles from home if she were a step; across +country as the crow flies, perhaps twenty. She was a young woman of resolution, +and she wasted no time in tears or regrets. The XIX ranch, owned by a small +“nester” named Henderson, could not be more than five or six miles to the +southeast. If she struck across the hills she would be sure to run into one of +the barblines. At the XIX she could get a horse and reach the Lazy D by +midnight. Without any hesitation she struck out. It was unfortunate that she +did not have on her heavy laced high boots, but she realized that she must take +things as she found them. Things might have been a good deal worse, she +reflected philosophically. +</p> + +<p> +And before long they were worse, for the increasing darkness blotted out the +landmarks she was using as guides and she was lost among the hill waves that +rolled one after another across the range. Still she did not give way, telling +herself that it would be better after the moon was up. She could then tell +north from south, and so have a line by which to travel. But when at length the +stars came out, thousands upon thousands of them, and looked down on a land +magically flooded with chill moonlight, the girl found that the transformation +of Wyoming into this sense of silvery loveliness had toned the distant mountain +line to an indefinite haze that made it impossible for her to distinguish one +peak from another. +</p> + +<p> +She wandered for hours, hungry and tired and frightened, though this last she +would not confess. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she told herself over and over. “Even if I +have to stay out all night it will do me no harm. There’s no need to be a baby +about it.” +</p> + +<p> +But try to evade it as she would, there was something in the loneliness of this +limitless stretch of hilltop that got on her nerves. The very shadows cast by +the moonshine seemed too fantastic for reality. Something eerie and unearthly +hovered over it all, and before she knew it a sob choked up her throat. +</p> + +<p> +Vague fancies filtered through her mind, weird imaginings born of the night in +a mind that had been swept from the moorings of reason. So that with no +sensible surprise there came to her in that moonlit sea of desert the sound of +a voice a clear sweet tenor swelling bravely in song with the very ecstacy of +pathos. +</p> + +<p> +It was the prison song from “Il Trovatore,” and the desolation of its lifted +appeal went to the heart like water to the roots of flowers. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Ah! I have sigh’d to rest me.<br/> +Deep in the quiet grave. +</p> + +<p> +The girl’s sob caught in her breast, stilled with the awe of that heavenly +music. So for an instant she waited before it was borne in on her that the +voice was a human one, and that the heaven from which it descended was the +hilltop above her. +</p> + +<p> +A wild laugh, followed by an oath, cut the dying echoes of the song. She could +hear the swish of a quirt falling again and again, and the sound of trampling +hoofs thudding on the hard, sun-cracked ground. Startled, she sprang to her +feet, and saw silhouetted against the skyline a horse and his rider fighting +for mastery. +</p> + +<p> +The battle was superb while it lasted. The horse had been a famous outlaw, +broken to the saddle by its owner out of the sheer passion for victory, but +there were times when its savage strength rebelled at abject submission, and +this was one of them. It swung itself skyward, and came down like a +pile-driver, camel-backed, and without joints in the legs. Swiftly it rose +again lunging forward and whirling in the air, then jarred down at an angle. +The brute did its malevolent best, a fury incarnate. But the ride, was a match, +and more than a match, for it. He sat the saddle like a Centaur, with the +perfect: unconscious grace of a born master, swaying in his seat as need was, +and spurring the horse to a blinder fury. +</p> + +<p> +Sudden as had been the start, no less sudden was the finish of the battle. The +bronco pounded to a stiff-legged standstill, trembled for a long minute like an +aspen, and sank to a tame surrender, despite the sharp spurs roweling its +bloody sides. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, my beauty. You’ve had enough, have you?” demanded the cruel, triumphant +voice of the rider. “You would try that game, would you? I’ll teach you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stop spurring that horse, you bully.” +</p> + +<p> +The man stopped, in sheer amazement at this apparition which had leaped out of +the ground almost at his feet. His wary glance circled the hills to make sure +she was alone. +</p> + +<p> +“Ce’tainly, ma’am. We’re sure delighted to meet up with you. Ain’t we, +Two-step?” +</p> + +<p> +For himself, he spoke the simple truth. He lived in his sensations, spurring +himself to fresh ones as he had but just now been spurring his horse to sate +the greed of conquest in him. And this high-spirited, gallant creature—he +could feel her vital courage in the very ring of her voice—offered a rare +fillip to his jaded appetite. The dusky, long-lashed eyes which always give a +woman an effect of beauty, the splendid fling of head, and the piquant, finely +cut features, with their unconscious tale of Brahmin caste, the long lines of +the supple body, willowy and yet plump as a partridge—they went to his +head like strong wine. Here was an adventure from the gods—a stubborn +will to bend, the pride of a haughty young beauty to trail in the dust, her +untamed heart to break if need be. The lust of the battle was on him already. +She was a woman to dream about, +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes,<br/> +Or Cytherea’s breath,” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +he told himself exultantly as he slid from his horse and stood bowing before +her. +</p> + +<p> +And he, for his part, was a taking enough picture of devil-may-care gallantry +gone to seed. The touch of jaunty impudence in his humility, not less than the +daring admiration of his handsome eyes and the easy, sinuous grace of his +flexed muscles, labeled him what he was—a man bold and capable to do what +he willed, and a villain every inch of him. +</p> + +<p> +Said she, after that first clash of stormy eyes with bold, admiring ones: +</p> + +<p> +“I am lost—from the Lazy D ranch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, no, you’re found,” he corrected, white teeth flashing in a smile. +</p> + +<p> +“My motor ran out of gasolene this afternoon. I’ve been”—there was a +catch in her voice—“wandering ever since.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re played out, of course, and y’u’ve had no supper,” he said, his quiet +close gaze on her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’m played out and my nerve’s gone.” She laughed a little hysterically. +“I expect I’m hungry and thirsty, too, though I hadn’t noticed it before.” +</p> + +<p> +He whirled to his saddle, and had the canteen thongs unloosed in a moment. +While she drank he rummaged from his saddle-bags some sandwiches of jerky and a +flask of whiskey. She ate the sandwiches, he the while watching her with amused +sympathy in his swarthy countenance. +</p> + +<p> +“You ain’t half-bad at the chuck-wagon, Miss Messiter,” he told her. +</p> + +<p> +She stopped, the sandwich part way to her mouth. “I don’t remember your face. +I’ve met so many people since I came to the Lazy D. Still, I think I should +remember you.” +</p> + +<p> +He immediately relieved of duty her quasi apology. “You haven’t seen <i>my +face</i> before,” he laughed, and, though she puzzled over the double meaning +that seemed to lurk behind his words and amuse him, she could not find the key +to it. +</p> + +<p> +It was too dark to make out his features at all clearly, but she was sure she +had seen him before or somebody that looked very much like him. +</p> + +<p> +“Life on the range ain’t just what y’u can call exciting,” he continued, “and +when a young lady fresh from back East drops among us while sixguns are +popping, breaks up a likely feud and mends right neatly all the ventilated +feudists it’s a corollary to her fun that’s she is going to become famous.” +</p> + +<p> +What he said was true enough. The unsolicited notoriety her exploit had brought +upon her had been its chief penalty. Garbled versions of it had appeared with +fake pictures in New York and Chicago Sunday supplements, and all Cattleland +had heard and discussed it. No matter into what unfrequented cañon she rode, +some silent cowpuncher would look at her as they met with admiring eyes behind +which she read a knowledge of the story. It was a lonely desolate country, full +of the wide deep silences of utter emptiness, yet there could be no footfall +but the whisper of it was bruited on the wings of the wind. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know where the Lazy D ranch is from here?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +He nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you take me home?” +</p> + +<p> +“I surely can. But not to-night. You’re more tired than y’u know. We’ll camp +here, and in the mo’ning we’ll hit the trail bright and early.” +</p> + +<p> +This did not suit her at all. “Is it far to the Lazy D?” she inquired +anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Every inch of forty miles. There’s a creek not more than two hundred yards +from here. We’ll stay there till morning,” he made answer in a matter of course +voice, leading the way to the place he had mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +She followed, protesting. Yet though it was not in accord with her civilized +sense of fitness, she knew that what he proposed was the common sense solution. +She was tired and worn out, and she could see that his broncho had traveled +far. +</p> + +<p> +Having reached the bank of the creek, he unsaddled, watered his horse and +picketed it, and started a fire. Uneasily she watched him. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like to sleep out. Isn’t there a ranchhouse near?” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u wouldn’t call it near by the time we had reached it. What’s to hinder your +sleeping here? Isn’t this room airy enough? And don’t y’u like the system of +lighting? ’Twas patented I forget how many million years ago. Y’u ain’t going +to play parlor girl now after getting the reputation y’u’ve got for gameness, +are y’u?” +</p> + +<p> +But he knew well enough that it was no silly schoolgirl fear she had, but some +deep instinct in her that distrusted him and warned her to beware. So, lightly +he took up the burden of the talk while he gathered cottonwood branches for the +fire. +</p> + +<p> +“Now if I’d only thought to bring a load of lumber and some +carpenters—and a chaperon,” he chided himself in burlesque, his bold eyes +closely on the girl’s face to gloat on the color that flew to her cheeks at his +suggestion. +</p> + +<p> +She hastened to disclaim lightly the feeling he had unmasked in her. “It is a +pity, but it can’t be helped now. I suppose I am cross and don’t seem very +grateful. I’m tired out and nervous, but I am sure that I’ll enjoy sleeping +out. If I don’t I shall not be so ungenerous as to blame you.” +</p> + +<p> +He soon had a cup of steaming coffee ready for her, and the heat of it made a +new woman of her. She sat in the warm fire glow, and began to feel stealing +over her a delightful reaction of languor. She told herself severely it was +ridiculous to have been so foolishly prim about the inevitable. +</p> + +<p> +“Since you know my name, isn’t it fair that I should know yours?” she smilingly +asked, more amiably than she had yet spoken to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, since I have found the lamb that was lost, y’u may call me a shepherd of +the desert.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Mr. Shepherd, I’m very glad to meet you. I don’t remember when I ever +was more glad to meet a stranger.” And she added with a little laugh: “It’s a +pity I’m too sleepy to do my duty by you in a social way.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll let that wait till to-morrow. Y’u’ll entertain me plenty then. I’ll make +your bunk up right away.” +</p> + +<p> +She was presently lying with her feet to the fire, snugly rolled in his saddle +blankets. But though her eyes were heavy, her brain was still too active to +permit her to sleep immediately. The excitement of her adventure was too near, +the emotions of the day too poignantly vivid, to lose their hold on her at +once. For the first time in her life she lay lapped in the illimitable velvet +night, countless unwinking stars lighting the blue-black dream in which she +floated. The enchantment of the night’s loveliness swept through her sensitive +pulses and thrilled her with the mystery of the great life of which she was an +atom. Awe held her a willing captive. +</p> + +<p> +She thought of many things, of her past life and its incongruity with the +present, of the man who lay wounded at the Lazy D, of this other +wide-shouldered vagabond who was just now in the shadows beyond the firelight, +pacing up and down with long, light even strides as he looked to his horse and +fed the fire. She watched him make an end of the things he found to do and then +take his place opposite her. Who and what was he, this fascinating scamp who +one moment flooded the moonlit desert with inspired snatches from the opera +sung in the voice of an angel, and the next lashed at his horse like a devil +incarnate? How reconcile the outstanding inconsistencies in him? For his every +inflection, every motion, proclaimed the strain of good blood gone wrong and +trampled under foot of set, sardonic purpose, indicated him a man of culture in +a hell of his own choosing. Lounging on his elbow in the flickering shadows, so +carelessly insouciant in every picturesque inch of him, he seemed to radiate +the melodrama of the untamed frontier, just as her guest of tarnished +reputation now at the ranch seemed to breathe forth its romance. +</p> + +<p> +“Sleep well, little partner. Don’t be afraid; nothing can harm you,” this man +had told her. +</p> + +<p> +Promptly she had answered, “I’m not afraid, thank you, in the least”; and after +a moment had added, not to seem hostile, “Good night, big partner.” +</p> + +<p> +But despite her calm assurance she knew she did not feel so entirely safe as if +it had been one of her own ranch boys on the other side of the fire, or even +that other vagabond who had made so direct an appeal to her heart. If she were +not afraid, at least she knew some vague hint of anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +She was still thinking of him when she fell asleep, and when she awakened the +first sound that fell on her ears was his tuneful whistle. Indeed she had an +indistinct memory of him in the night, wrapping the blankets closer about her +when the chill air had half stirred her from her slumber. The day was still +very young, but the abundant desert light dismissed sleep summarily. She shook +and brushed the wrinkles out of her clothes and went down to the creek to wash +her face with the inadequate facilities at hand. After redressing her hair she +returned to the fire, upon which a coffee pot was already simmering. +</p> + +<p> +She came up noiselessly behind him, but his trained senses were apprised of her +approach. +</p> + +<p> +“Good mo’ning! How did y’u find your bedroom?” he asked, without turning from +the bacon he was broiling on the end of a stick. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite up to the specifications. With all Wyoming for a floor and the sky for a +ceiling, I never had a room I liked better. But have you eyes in the back of +your head?” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed grimly. “I have to be all eyes and ears in my business.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is your business of a nature so sensitive?” +</p> + +<p> +“As much so as stocks on Wall Street. And we haven’t any ticker to warn us to +get under cover. Do you take cream in your coffee, Miss Messiter?” +</p> + +<p> +She looked round in surprise. “Cream?” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re in tin-can land, you know, and live on air-tights. I milk my cow with a +can-opener. Let me recommend this quail on toast.” He handed her a battered tin +plate, and prepared to help her from the frying-pan. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose that is another name for pork?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, really. I happened to bag a couple of hooters before you wakened.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a missionary of the good-foods movement. I shall name your mission St. +Sherry’s-in-the-Wilderness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, Sherry’s! That’s since my time. I don’t suppose I should know my way about +in little old New York now.” +</p> + +<p> +She found him eager to pick up again the broken strands that had connected him +with the big world from which he had once come. It had been long since she had +enjoyed a talk more, for he expressed himself with wit and dexterity. But +through her enjoyment ran a note of apprehension. He was for the moment a +resurrected gentleman. But what would he be next? She had an insistent memory +of a heavenly flood of music broken by a horrible discord of raucous oaths. +</p> + +<p> +It was he that lingered over their breakfast, loath to make the first move to +bring him back into realities; and it was she that had to suggest the need of +setting out. But once on his feet, he saddled and packed swiftly, with a +deftness born of experience. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll have to ask Two-step to carry double to-day,” he said, as he helped her +to a place behind him. +</p> + +<p> +Two-step had evidently made an end of the bronco spree upon which he had been +the evening before, for he submitted sedately to his unusual burden. The first +hilltop they reached had its surprise to offer the girl. In a little valley +below them, scarce a mile away, nestled a ranch with its corrals and buildings. +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” she exclaimed; and then swiftly, “Didn’t you know it was there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that’s the Hilke place,” he answered with composure. “It hasn’t been +occupied for years.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t that some one crossing to the corral now?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. A stray cow, I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +They dropped into a hollow between the hills and left the ranch on their left. +She was not satisfied, and yet she had not grounds enough upon which to base a +suspicion. For surely the figure she had seen had been that of a man. +</p> + +<p> +He let his horse take it easy, except when some impulse of mischief stirred him +to break into a canter so as to make the girl put her arm round his waist for +support. They stopped about noon by a stream in a cañon defile to lunch and +rest the pony. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t remember this place at all. Are we near home?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“About five miles. I reckon you’re right tired. It’s an unhandy way to ride.” +</p> + +<p> +Every mile took them deeper into the mountains, through winding cañons and over +unsuspected trails, and the girl’s uneasiness increased with the wildness of +the country. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you <i>sure</i> we’re going the right way? I Don’t think we can be,” she +suggested more than once. +</p> + +<p> +“Dead sure,” he answered the last time, letting Two-step turn into a blind draw +opening from sheer cañon walls. +</p> + +<p> +A hundred feet from the entrance they rode round a great slide of rock into a +tiny valley containing a group of buildings. +</p> + +<p> +He swung from the horse and offered a hand to help her dismount. +</p> + +<p> +A reckless, unholy light burned in his daring eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Home at last, Miss Messiter. Let me offer you a thousand welcomes.” +</p> + +<p> +An icy hand seemed to clutch at her heart. “Home! What do you mean? This isn’t +the Lazy D.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. The Lazy D is sixty miles from here. This is where I hang +out—and you, for the present.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—I don’t understand. How dare you bring me here?” +</p> + +<p> +“The desire for your company, Miss Messiter, made of me a Lochinvar.” +</p> + +<p> +She saw, with a shiver, that the ribald eyes were mocking her. +</p> + +<p> +“Take me back this instant—this instant,” she commanded, but her +imperious voice was not very sure of itself. “Take me home at once, you liar.” +</p> + +<p> +“I expect you don’t quite understand,” he exclaimed, with gentle derision. +“You’re a prisoner of war, Miss Messiter.” +</p> + +<p> +“And who are you?” she faltered. +</p> + +<p> +But before he spoke she found an answer to her question, found it by a flash of +divination she could never afterward explain. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re the man I met at Fraser’s dance—the man they call the King of the +Bighorn country.” +</p> + +<p> +He accepted identification with an elaborate bow. “Correct, ma’am. I’m Ned +Bannister the king.” +</p> + +<p> +An instant before she had been sitting rigid with a face of startled fear, but +as he spoke a great wave of joy beat into her heart. For if this man were the +terror of the country the one she had left wounded at her house could not be. +She forgot that she was herself in peril, forgot everything in the swift +conviction that the man she loved was an honest gentleman and worthy of her. +</p> + +<p> +The man standing by the horse could not understand the light that had so +immediately leaped to her eyes. Even <i>his</i> vanity hesitated at the obvious +deduction that she had already succumbed to his attractions. +</p> + +<p> +“But I don’t understand-0that isn’t your real name, is it? I know another man +who calls himself Ned Bannister.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed scornfully. “My cousin, the sheepherder. Yes, that’s his name, too. +We both have a right to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your cousin?” +</p> + +<p> +The familiarity in him that had been haunting her all day and that had deceived +her at the dance was now explained. It was her lover of which this man reminded +her. Now that she had been given the clue she could trace kinship in manner, +gait and appearance. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not proud of my mealy-mouthed namesake,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Nor he of you, I am sure,” she quickly answered. +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say not. But won’t y’u ’light, Miss Messiter?” +</p> + +<p> +She slipped immediately to the ground beside him. Her eyes looked him over with +quiet scorn. +</p> + +<p> +“From first to last you have done nothing but lie to me. When we were out last +night you knew that ranch was close at hand. You lied to me again when you said +it was deserted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. We’ll say I lied, though it’s not a nice word in so pretty a mouth, +as yours, Miss Messiter. Y’u ought to read up again the fable about the toads +dropping from the beautiful lady’s lips.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s your object? What do you expect to gain by it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Up to date I’ve gained a right interesting guest. Y’u will be diverting +enough. With so charming a lady visiting me I’m not worrying about getting +bored.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you war on women, you coward.” +</p> + +<p> +The change in him was instantaneous. It was as if a thousand years of +civilization had been sponged out in an eyebeat. He stood before her a savage +primeval, his tight-lipped smile cruel in its triumph. +</p> + +<p> +“Did I begin this fight? Didn’t y’u and your punchers try to balk me by taking +that sheep-herder from me after I had bagged him? That was your hour. By God, +this is mine! I’ll teach y’u it isn’t safe to interfere with me. What I want I +get one way or another, and don’t y’u forget it, my girl.” +</p> + +<p> +She was afraid to the very marrow of her. But she would not show her fear, nor +could he read it in the slim superb erectness with which she gave him defiance. +</p> + +<p> +“You coward!” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s twice you’ve called me that,” he cried, his face flushing darkly and +his eyes glittering. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll crawl on your knees to me and beg pardon before I’m through with y’u, +my beauty. Y’u’ll learn to lick the hand that strikes y’u. You’re +mine—mine to do with as I please. Don’t forget that for a moment. I’ll +break your spirit or I’ll break your heart.” +</p> + +<p> +His ferocity appalled her, but her brave eyes held their own. With an oath he +turned on his heel and struck the palms of his hands together. An Indian squaw +came running from one of the cabins. He flung at her a sentence or two in the +native tongue and pointed at his captive. She asked a question impassively and +he jabbed out a threat. The squaw nodded her head, and motioned to the girl to +follow her. +</p> + +<p> +When Helen Messiter was alone in the room that was to serve as her prison she +sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands in a despair that was for +the moment utter. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br/> +A RESCUE</h2> + +<p> +Helen Messiter was left alone until darkness fell, when the Cheyenne squaw +brought in a kerosene lamp and shortly afterward her supper. The woman either +could not or would not speak English, and her only answer to her captive’s +advances was by sullen grunts. At the expiration of half an hour she returned +for the dishes, locking the door after her when she left. +</p> + +<p> +The room itself was comfortable enough. It was evidently Bannister’s own, +judging from its contents. Two or three rifles hung in racks. On top of the +bookcase was a half-filled tobacco pouch and several pipes, all of them lying +carelessly on a pile of music which ran from Verdi to ragtime. In his books she +found the same shallow catholicity. Side by side with Montaigne’s “Essays,” a +well-worn Villon in thé original, Stevenson’s “Letters” and “Anna Karenina,” +dozens of paper-covered novels, mostly the veriest trash, held their +disreputable own. Some of them were French, others detective stories, still +others melodramatic tales of love. The piano was an expensive one, but not in +the best of tune. Everything in the room contributed to the effect of capacity +untempered by discipline and discrimination. Plainly he was a man of taste who +had outraged and deadened his power of differentiation by abuse. +</p> + +<p> +For Helen the silent night was alive with alarms. The moaning of the wind, the +slightest rustle outside, the creaking of a board, were enough to set her heart +wildly beating. She did not undress, but by the light of her dim, ragged wick +sought for composure from the pages of Montaigne and Stevenson. When the first +gray day streaks came she was still reading, but with their coming she blew out +her light and lay down. She fell asleep at once, and it was five hours later +that the knock of her attendant awakened her from heavy slumber. +</p> + +<p> +With the bright sunlit day she was again mistress of her nerves, prepared to +meet resolutely whatever danger might confront her. But the morning passed +quietly enough, and after lunch the Indian woman led her into the little valley +promenade in front of the buildings and sat down on a rock while her captive +enjoyed the sunshine. +</p> + +<p> +The course of Helen’s saunterings took her toward the rock slide that made the +gateway of the valley. She was wondering if it could have been left unguarded, +when a rough voice warned her back. Looking round, she caught sight of a man +seated cross-legged on a great boulder. It took only a second glance to certify +that the man was her former foreman, Judd Morgan. +</p> + +<p> +She had never seen anything more malevolent than his triumph. +</p> + +<p> +“Better stay in the valley, Miss Messiter. Y’u might right easily get lost +outside,” he jeered. +</p> + +<p> +Without reply she turned her back on him and began to retrace her way to the +house. Stung by her contempt, he sprang up and strode after her. +</p> + +<p> +“So y’u won’t speak to me, eh? Think yourself too good to speak to a common +everyday God damned white man, do y’u?” +</p> + +<p> +Apparently she did not know he was on the map. In a fury he caught at her +shoulder and whirled her round. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, by God, do y’u see me? I’m Judd Morgan, the man y’u kicked off the Lazy +D. I told y’u then y’u were going to be sorry long as y’u lived.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you dare touch me, you hound!” Her blazing eyes menaced him so fiercely +that he hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +There was the sound of a quick, light step running toward them. Morgan half +turned, was caught in a grip of steel and hurled headlong among a pile of +broken rocks. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u would dare, would y’u?” panted his assailant, passionately, ready to +obliterate the offender if he showed fight. +</p> + +<p> +Morgan got up slowly, his head bleeding from contact with the sharp rocks. +There was murder in his bloodshot eye, but he knew his master, and after trying +vainly to face him down he swung away with an oath. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll have to apologize for that coyote, Miss Messiter. These fellows need a +hint occasionally as to how to behave,” said Bannister. +</p> + +<p> +“Your hints are rather forceful, are they not?” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t running a Sunday school,” he admitted. +</p> + +<p> +“So I have gathered. I wonder where he learned to bully women,” she mused +aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“Putting it another way, you think there ought to be some one to apologize for +his master.” +</p> + +<p> +He was smiling at her without the least rancor, and it came on her with a +woman’s swift instinct that safety lay in humoring his volatile moods and +diverting him from those that were dangerous. +</p> + +<p> +“Since I’m a prisoner of war I wouldn’t dare think that—not aloud, at +least. You might starve me,” she told him, saucily. +</p> + +<p> +“Still, down in your heart y’u think—” +</p> + +<p> +“That there is a great deal of difference between master and man. One is a +gentleman in his best moments; the other is always a ruffian.” +</p> + +<p> +She had touched his vanity. As he walked beside her she could almost see his +complacency purr. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m a miscreant, I reckon, but I was a gentleman first.” +</p> + +<p> +Fortunately he did not see the flash of veiled scorn she shot at him under her +long lashes. +</p> + +<p> +With her breakfast next morning the Cheyenne woman brought a note signed +“Shepherd-of-the-Desert.” In it Bannister asked permission to pay his respects. +The girl divined that he was in his better mood, and penciled on his note the +favor she could scarce refuse. +</p> + +<p> +But she was scarcely prepared for the impudent air of jocund spring he brought +into her prison, the gay assumption of <i>camaraderie</i> so inconsistent with +the facts. Yet since safety lay in an avoidance of the tragic, she set herself +to match his mood. +</p> + +<p> +At sight of the open Tennyson on the table he laughed and quoted: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +She only said, “The day is dreary.”<br/> +“He cometh not,” she said. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +“But, you see, he comes,” he added. “What say, Mariana of the Robbers’ Roost, +to making a picnic day of it? We’ll climb the Crags and lunch on the summit.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Crags?” +</p> + +<p> +“That Matterhorn-shaped peak that begins at our back door. Are you for it?” +</p> + +<p> +While this mood was uppermost in him she felt reasonably safe. It was a phase +of him she certainly did not mean to discourage. Besides, she had a youthful +confidence in her powers that she was loath to give up without an effort to +find the accessible side of his ruthless heart. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll try it; but you must help me when we come to the bad places,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure thing! It’s a deal. You’re a right good mountaineer, I’ll bet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you ; but you had better save your compliments till I make good,” she +told him, with the most piquant air of gayety in the world. +</p> + +<p> +They started on horseback, following a mountain trail that zigzagged across the +foothills toward the Crags. He had unearthed somewhere a boy’s saddle that +suited her very well, and the pony she rode was one of the easiest she had ever +mounted. At the end of an hour’s ride they left the horses and began the ascent +on foot. It was a stiff climb, growing steeper as they ascended, but Helen +Messiter had not tramped over golf links for nothing. She might grow leg +weary,’ but she would not cry “Enough!” And he, on his part, showed the tactful +consideration for the resources of her strength he had already taught her to +expect from that other day’s experience on the plains. It was a very rare hand +of assistance that he offered her, but often he stopped to admire the beautiful +view that stretched for many miles below them, in order that she might get a +minute’s breathing space. +</p> + +<p> +Once he pointed out, far away on the horizon, a bright gleam that caught the +sunlight like a heliograph. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the big rock slide back of the Lazy, D,” he explained. +</p> + +<p> +She drew a long breath, and flashed a stealthy look at him. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a long way from here, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t find it so far last time I took the trip—not the last half of +the journey, anyhow,” he answered. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re very complimentary. I was only wondering whether I could find it if I +should manage to escape.” +</p> + +<p> +He stroked his black mustache and smiled gallantly at her. “I reckon I won’t +let so pretty a prisoner escape.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you expect me to burden your hospitality forever and a day? Wouldn’t that +be a little too much of Mariana of the Robbers’ Roost?” she asked, lightly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m willing to risk it.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked with half-shut smoldering eyes at her slender exquisiteness, so +instinct with the vital charm of sex. There was veiled passion in his eyes, but +there was in them, too, a desire to stand well with her. He meant to win her, +but if possible he would win with her own reluctant consent. She must bring him +with hesitant feet a heart surrendered in spite of her pride and flinty +puritanism. The vanity of the man craved a victory that should be of the spirit +as well as of the flesh. +</p> + +<p> +Deftly she guided the conversation back to less dangerous channels. In this the +increasing difficulty of the climb assisted her, for after they reached the +last ascent sustained talk became impossible. +</p> + +<p> +“See that trough above us near the summit?. Y’u’ll have to hang on by your +eyelashes, pardner.” He always burlesqued the word of comradeship a little to +soften its familiarity. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me! Is it that bad?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is so bad that at the top y’u have to jump for a grip and draw yourself up +by your arms.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll never be able to do it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m here to help.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if one should miss?” +</p> + +<p> +He shrugged. “Ah! That’s a theological question. If the sky pilots guess +right, for y’u heaven and for me hell.” +</p> + +<p> +They negotiated the trough successfully to its uptilted end. She had a bad +moment when he leaped for the rock rim above from the narrow ledge on which +they stood. But he caught it, drew himself up without the least trouble and +turned to assist her. He sat down on the rock edge facing the abyss beneath +them, and told her to lock her hands together above his left foot. Then slowly, +inch by inch, he drew her up till with one of his hands he could catch her +wrist. A moment later she was standing on his rigid toes, from which position +she warily edged to safety above. +</p> + +<p> +“Well done, little pardner. You’re the first woman ever climbed the Crags.” He +offered a hand to celebrate the achievement. +</p> + +<p> +“If I am it is all due to you, big pardner. I could never have made that last +bit alone.” +</p> + +<p> +They ate lunch merrily in the pleasant sunlight, and both of them seemed as +free from care as a schoolboy on a holiday. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s good to be alive, isn’t it?” he asked her after they had eaten, as he +lay on the warm ground at her feet. “And what a life it is here! To be riding +free, with your knees pressing a saddle, in the wind and the sun. There’s +something in a man to which the wide spaces call. I’d rather lie here in the +sunbeat with you beside me than be a king. You remember the ‘Last Ride’ that +fellow Browning tells about? I reckon he’s dead right. If a man could only +capture his best moments and hold them forever it would be heaven to the +<i>n</i>th degree.” +</p> + +<p> +She studied her sublimated villain with that fascination his vagaries always +excited in her. Was ever a more impossible combination put together than this +sentimental scamp with the long record of evil? +</p> + +<p> +“Say it,” he laughed.” Whang it out I ask, anything you like, pardner.” +</p> + +<p> +Pluckily daring, she took him at his word. “I was only wondering at the +different men I find in you. Before I have known you a dozen hours I discover +in you the poet and the man of action, the schoolboy and the philosopher, the +sentimentalist and the cynic, and—may I say it?—the gentleman and +the blackguard. One feels a sense of loss. You should have specialized. You +would have made such a good soldier, for instance. Pity you didn’t go to West +Point.” +</p> + +<p> +“Think so?” He was immensely flattered at her interest in him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. You surely missed your calling. You were born for a soldier; cavalry, I +should say. What an ornament to society you would have been if your energies +had found the right vent! But they didn’t find it—and you craved +excitement, I suppose. Perhaps you had to go the way you did.” +</p> + +<p> +“Therefore I am what I am? Please particularize.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t, because I don’t understand you. But I think this much is true, that +you have set yourself against all laws of God and man. Yet you are not +consistent, since you are better than your creed. You tell yourself there shall +be no law for you but your own will, and you find there is, something in you +stronger than desire that makes you shrink at many things. You can kill in fair +fight, but you can’t knife a man in the back, can you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never have.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have a dreadfully perverted set of rules, but you play by them. That’s why +I know I’m safe with you, even when you are at your worst.” +</p> + +<p> +She announced this boldly, just as if she had no doubts. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you know you’re safe, do you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I do. You were once a gentleman and you can’t forget it entirely. +That’s the weakness in your philosophy of total depravity.” “You speak with an +assurance you don’t always feel, I reckon. And I expect I wouldn’t bank too +much on those divinations of yours, if I were you.” He rolled over so that he +could face her more directly. “You’ve been mighty frank, Miss Messiter, and I +take off my hat to your sand. Now I’m going to be frank awhile. You interest +me. I never met a woman that interested me so much. But you do a heap more than +interest me. No, you sit right there and listen. Your cheeky pluck and that +insolent, indifferent beauty of yours made a hit with me the first minute I saw +you that night. I swore I’d tame you, and that’s why I brought you to the +ranch. Your eye flashed a heap too haughty for me to give you the go-by. Mind +you, I meant to be master. I meant to make you mine as much as that dog that +licked my hand before we started. What I meant then I still mean, but in a +different way. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s as far as it went with me then, but before we reached here next day I +knew the thing cut deeper with me. I ain’t saying that I love you, because I’m +a sweep and it’s just likely I don’t know passion from love. But I’ll tell you +this—there hasn’t been a waking moment since then I haven’t been on fire +to be with you. That’s why I stayed away until I knew I wasn’t so likely to +slop over. But here, I’m doing it right this minute. I care more for you than I +do for anything else on this earth. But that makes it worse for you. I never +cared for anybody without bringing ruin on them. I broke my mother’s heart and +spoiled the life of a girl I was going to marry. That’s the kind of scoundrel I +am. Even if I can make you care for me—and I reckon I can if y’u are like +other women—I’ll likely drag you through hell after me.” +</p> + +<p> +The simulation of despair in his beautiful eyes spoke more impressively than +his self-scorning words. She was touched in spite of herself, despite, too, his +colossal egotism. For there is an appeal about the engaging sinner that drums +in a woman’s head and calls to her heart. All good women are missionaries in +the last analysis, and Miss Messiter was not an exception to her sex. Even +though she knew he was half a fraud and that his emotion was theatric, she +could not let the moment pass. +</p> + +<p> +She leaned forward, a sweet, shy dignity in her manner. “Is it too late to +change? Why not begin now? There is still a to-morrcw, and it need not be the +slave of yesterday. Life for all of us is full of milestones.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how shall I begin my new career of saintliness?” he asked, with a swift +return to blithe irony. +</p> + +<p> +“The nearest duty. Take me back to my ranch. Begin a life of rigid honesty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Give you up now that I have found you? That is just the last thing I would +do,” he cried, with glancing eyes. “No—no. The clock can’t be turned +back. I have sowed and I must reap.” +</p> + +<p> +He leaped to his feet. “Come! We must be going.” +</p> + +<p> +She rose sadly, for she knew the mood of sentimental regret for his wasted life +had passed, and she had failed. +</p> + +<p> +They descended the trough and reached the boulder field that had marked the +terminal of the glacier. At the farther edge of it the outlaw turned to point +out to the girl a great bank of snow on a mountainside fifteen miles away. +</p> + +<p> +He changed his weight as he turned, when a rock slipped under his foot and he +came down hard. He was up again in an instant, but Helen Messiter caught the +sharp intake of his breath when he set foot to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve sprained your ankle!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Afraid so. It’s my own rotten carelessness.” He broke into a storm of curses +and limped forward a dozen steps, but he had to set his teeth to stand the +pain. +</p> + +<p> +“Lean on me,” she said, gently. “I reckon I’ll have to,” he grimly answered. +</p> + +<p> +They covered a quarter of a mile, with many stops to rest the swollen ankle. +Only by the irregularity of his breathing and the damp moisture on his forehead +could she tell the agony he was enduring. +</p> + +<p> +“It must be dreadful,” she told him once. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got to stand for it, I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +Again she said, when they had reached a wooded grove where pines grew splendid +on a carpet of grass: “Only two hundred yards more. I think I can bring your +pony as far as the big cottonwood.” +</p> + +<p> +She noticed that he leaned heavier and heavier on her. However, when they +reached the cottonwood he leaned no more, but pitched forward in a faint. The +water bottle was empty, but she ran down to where the ponies had been left, and +presently came back with his canteen. She had been away perhaps twenty minutes, +and when she came back he waved a hand airily at her. +</p> + +<p> +“First time in my life that ever happened,” he apologized, gayly. “But why +didn’t y’u get on Jim and cut loose for the Lazy D while you had the chance?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t think of it. Perhaps I shall next time.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t. Y’u see, I’d follow you and bring you back. And if I didn’t find +you there would be a lamb lost again in these hills.” +</p> + +<p> +“The sporting thing would be to take a chance.” +</p> + +<p> +“And leave me here alone? Well, I’m going to give you a show to take it.” He +handed her his revolver. “Y’u may need this if you’re going traveling.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you telling me to go?” she asked, amazed. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m telling you to do as you think best. Y’u may take a hike or y’u may bring +back Two-step to me. Suit yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you plainly, I sha’n’t come back.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I’m sure y’u will.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I won’t. The thing’s absurd. Would you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I shouldn’t. But y’u will.” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t. Good-bye.” She held out her hand. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head, looking steadily at her. “What’s the use? You’ll be back in +half an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not I. Did you say I must keep the Antelope Peaks in a line to reach the Lazy +D. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, a little to the left. Don’t be long, little pardner.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hate to leave you here. Perhaps I’ll send a sheriff to take care of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Better bring Two-step up to the south of that bunch of cottonwoods. It’s not +so steep that way.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll mention it to the sheriff. I’m not coming myself.” +</p> + +<p> +She left him apparently obstinate in the conviction that she would return. In +reality he was taking a gambler’s chance, but it was of a part with the +reckless spirit of the man that the risk appealed to him. It was plain he could +not drag himself farther. Since he must let her go for the horse alone, he +chose that she should go with her eyes open to his knowledge of the opportunity +of escape. +</p> + +<p> +But Helen Messiter had not the slightest intention of returning. She had found +her chance, and she meant to make the most of it. As rapidly ias her +unaccustomed fingers would permit she saddled and cinched her pony. She had not +ridden a hundred yards before Two-step came crashing through the young +cottonwood grove after her. Objecting to being left alone, he had broken the +rein that tied him. The girl tried to recapture the horse in order that the +outlaw might not be left entirely without means of reaching camp, but her +efforts were unsuccessful. She had to give it up and resume her journey. +</p> + +<p> +Of course the men at his ranch would miss their chief and search for him. There +could be no doubt but that they would find him. She bolstered up her assurance +of this as she rode toward the Antelope Peaks, but her hope lacked buoyancy, +because she doubted if they had any idea of where he had been going to spend +the day. +</p> + +<p> +She rode slower and slower, and finally came to a long halt for consideration. +Vividly there rose before her a picture of the miscreant waiting grimly for +death or rescue. Well, she was not to blame. If she deserted him it was to save +herself. But to leave him helpless—— +</p> + +<p> +No, she could not leave a crippled man to die alone, even though he were her +enemy. That was the goal to which her circling thoughts came always home, and +with a sob she turned her horse’s head. It was a piece of soft-headed folly, +she confessed, but she could not help it. +</p> + +<p> +So back she went and found him lying just where she had left him. His derisive +smile offered +</p> + +<p> +her no thanks. She doubted, indeed, whether he felt any sense of gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u didn’t break your neck hurrying,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +She made her confession with a palpable chagrin. “I meant to ride away. I rode +a mile or two. But I had to come back. I couldn’t leave you here alone.” +</p> + +<p> +His eyes sparkled triumphantly. She saw that he had misunderstood the reason of +her return, that he was pluming himself on a conquest of his fascinated victim. +</p> + +<p> +“One couldn’t leave even a broken-legged dog without help,” she added, quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“So how could we expect a woman to leave the man she’s getting ready to love?” +</p> + +<p> +She let her contemptuous eyes rest on him in silence. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right. Look at me as if I were dirt under your feet. Hate me, if it +makes y’u feel better. But y’u’ll have to come to loving me just the same.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you get on without help?” she asked, ranging the pony alongside him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” He dragged himself to the saddle and smiled down at her. “So y’u better +make up your mind to that soon as convenient.” +</p> + +<p> +Disdaining answer, she walked in front of the pony down the trail. She was +tired, but her elastic tread would not admit it to him. For she was dramatizing +unconsciously, with firmly clenched fingers that bit into her palms, the march +of the unconquerable. +</p> + +<p> +Evening had fallen before they reached the ranch. It was beautifully still, +except for the call of the quails. The hazy violet outline of the mountains +came to silhouette against the skyline with a fine edge. +</p> + +<p> +As they passed the pony corral he spoke again. “I’ll never forget to-day. I’ve +got it fenced from all the yesterdays and to-morrows. I have surely enjoyed our +little picnic.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor will I forget it,” she flung back quickly, as she followed him into the +house. “For I never before met a man wholly incapable of gratitude and entirely +lacking in all the elements that go to distinguish a human being from a wolf.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to speak to her, and as he did so a quiet voice cautioned him: +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t move, seh, except to throw up your hands.” +</p> + +<p> +At the sound of that pleasant drawl Helen’s heart jumped to her throat. Jim +McWilliams, half seated on the edge of the table, was looking intently at +Bannister, and there was a revolver in his hand. On the other side of the room +sat Morgan and the Cheyenne woman, apparently in charge of the young giant +Denver. +</p> + +<p> +Bannister’s hands went up, even as he whirled with a snarl toward the man +Morgan. +</p> + +<p> +“I told y’u to watch out, y’u muttonhead!” +</p> + +<p> +“But y’u clean forgot to remember to watch out your own self,” spoke up +McWilliams, unbuckling the belt from the waist of his new captive. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Mac, you blessed boy!” cried Helen, with an hysterical laugh that was half +a sob. +</p> + +<p> +“How did you ever find me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Followed the track of the gas wagon to where it ran out of juice. We lost your +trail after that, but Denver and me had the good luck to pick it up again where +y’u’d camped that night. We mislaid it again up in the hills, and Denver he +knew about this place. We dropped in just casual for information, but when we +set our peepers on Judd we allowed we would stay awhile, him being so anxious +to have us.” +</p> + +<p> +“You dear boys! I’m so glad! You don’t know,” she sobbed, dropping weakly into +thes nearest chair. +</p> + +<p> +“We can guess, ma’am,” her foreman answered grimly, his eyes on Bannister.” And +if either of these scoundrels have treated y’u so they need their light put out +all y’u have got to do is to say so.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, Mac. Let us go away from here and leave them. Can’t we go +now—this very minute?” +</p> + +<p> +The foreman’s eyes found those of Denver and the latter nodded. Neither of them +had had a bite to eat since the previous evening, and they were naturally +ravenous. +</p> + +<p> +“All right. We’ll go right now, ma’am. Denver, I’ll take care of these beauties +while y’u step into the pantry with Mrs. Lo-the-poor-Indian and put up a lunch. +Y’u don’t want to forget we’re hungry enough to eat the wool off a pair of +chaps.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t likely to forget it, am I?” grinned Denver, as he rose. +</p> + +<p> +“You poor boys! I know you are starved. I’ll see about the lunch if one of you +will get the I horses round,” Helen broke in. “Only let us hurry and get away +from here.” +</p> + +<p> +Ten minutes later they were in the saddle. For the sake of precaution Mac +walked two of his captives with them for about a mile before releasing them. +Bannister, unable to travel, they left behind. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll get down out of the hills and then cut acrost to the Meeker ranch,” said +McWilliams, after they had ridden forward a few miles. “I’ll telephone from +there to Slauson’s and have the old man send a boy over to the Lazy D with the +good word. We’ll get an early start from Meeker’s and make it home in the +afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did you leave Mr. Bannister?” asked Helen, in a carefully careless voice. +</p> + +<p> +She had held back this question for nearly an hour till Denver, who was guiding +the party, had passed out of earshot. +</p> + +<p> +“Left him with two of the boys holding him down. He was plumb anxious to commit +suicide by joining the hunt for y’u, but I had other thoughts,” grinned Mac. +</p> + +<p> +She felt herself flushing in the darkness. “We’ve made a great mistake about +him, Mac, It’s his cousin of the same name that is the desperado—the man +we just left.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that’s what Judd let out before y’u and the King arrived. It made me +plumb glad to my gizzard to hear it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was pleased, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Somehow I suspicioned that,” he made answer, with banter in his dry tones. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I would be glad to know that he is not a villain,” she defended. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, one doesn’t like to think that a friend——” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s your friend, is he?” chuckled Mac. +</p> + +<p> +“Why shouldn’t he be?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m offering no objections, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“You act as if——” +</p> + +<p> +“Sho! Don’t pay any attention to me. Sometimes I get these spells of laughing +in to myself. They just come. Doctors never could find a reason.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well!” +</p> + +<p> +“He was your enemy and now he’s your friend. Course since I’m your foreman I +got to keep posted on how we stand with our neighbors. If your feelings change +to him again y’u’ll let me know, I expect.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should they change?” she asked in a cold voice that her rising color +belied. +</p> + +<p> +“Search <i>me!</i> I just thought mebbe——” +</p> + +<p> +“You think too much,” she cut in, shortly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am,” admitted the youth, meekly, but from time to time as they rode +she could hear, faint sounds of mirth from his direction. +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams telephoned from the Meeker ranch to Slauson’s, and inside of two +hours the Lazy D knew that its owner had been found. As one puncher after +another reported there on jaded ponies to get the latest word they heard that +all was well. Each one at once unsaddled, ate and turned in for the first +night’s sleep he had had since his mistress had been missing. Next morning they +rode in a body to meet her. +</p> + +<p> +She saw them galloping toward her in a cloud of dust, and presently she was the +centre of a circle of her happy family. They were like boys—exuberant in +their joy at her deliverance and eager to set out at once to avenge her wrongs. +</p> + +<p> +Ned Bannister, from his window, saw them coming. When the group separated at +the corral and she rode from among them with McWilliams toward the house the +sheepman could sit still no longer. He limped to the front door and waved the +American flag which he had unearthed for the occasion. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br/> +MISTRESS AND MAID</h2> + +<p> +Now that it was safely concluded, Helen thought the adventure almost worthwhile +for the spontaneous expressions of good will it had drawn forth from her +adherents. Mrs. Winslow and Nora had taken her to their arms and wept and +laughed over her in turn, and in their silent undemonstrative way she had felt +herself hedged in by unusual solicitude on the part of her riders. It was +good—none but she knew how good—to be back among her own, to bask +in a friendliness she could not doubt. It was best of all to sit opposite Ned +Bannister again with no weight on her heart from the consciousness of his +unworthiness. +</p> + +<p> +She could affect to disregard the gray eyes that followed her with such +magnetized content about the living room, but beneath her cool self-containment +she knew the joyous heart in her was strangely buoyant. He loved her, and she +had a right to let herself love him. This was enough for the present. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re so plumb glad to see y’u they can’t let y’u alone,” laughed Bannister +at the sound of a knock on the door that was about the fifth in as many +minutes. +</p> + +<p> +This time it proved to be Nora, come to find out what her mistress would like +for supper. Helen turned to the invalid. +</p> + +<p> +“What would you like, Mr. Bannister?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like a porterhouse with mushrooms,” he announced promptly. +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t have it. You know what the doctor said.” Very peremptorily she +smiled this at him. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s an old granny, Miss Messiter.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may have an egg on toast.” +</p> + +<p> +“Make it two,” he pleaded. “Excitement’s just like caviar to the appetite, and +seeing y’u safe—” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well—two,” she conceded. +</p> + +<p> +They ate supper together in a renewal of the pleasant intimacy so delightful to +both. He lay on the lounge, propped up with sofa cushions, the while he watched +her deft fingers butter the toast and prepare his egg. It was surely worth +while to be a convalescent, given so sweet a comrade for a nurse; and after he +had moved over to the table he enjoyed immensely the gay firmness with which +she denied him what was not good for him. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll bet y’u didn’t have supper like this at Robbers’ Roost.” he told her, +enthusiastically. +</p> + +<p> +“It wasn’t so bad, considering everything.” She was looking directly at him as +she spoke. “Your cousin is rather a remarkable man in some ways. He manages to +live on the best that can be got in tin-can land.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he tell y’u he was my cousin?” he asked, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and that his name was Ned Bannister, too?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did that explain anything to y’u?” +</p> + +<p> +“It explained a great deal, but it left some things not clear yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“For instance?” +</p> + +<p> +“For one thing, the reason why you should bear the odium of his crimes. I +suppose you don’t care for him, though I can see how you might in a way.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t care for him in the least, though I used to when we were boys. As to +letting myself be blamed for his crimes. I did it because I couldn’t help +myself. We look more or less alike, and he was cunning enough to manufacture +evidence against me. We were never seen together, and so very few know that +there are two Bannisters. At first I used to protest, but I gave it up. There +wasn’t the least use. I could only wait for him to be captured or killed. In +the meantime it didn’t make me any more popular to be a sheepman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Weren’t you taking a long chance of being killed first? Some one with a grudge +against him might have shot you.” +</p> + +<p> +“They haven’t yet,” he smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“You might at least have told <i>me</i> how it was,” she reproached. +</p> + +<p> +“I started to tell y’u that first day, but it looked so much of a fairy tale to +unload that I passed it up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you ought not to blame me for thinking you what you were not.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t remember blaming y’u. The fact is I thought it awful white of y’u to +do your Christian duty so thorough, me being such a miscreant,” he drawled. +</p> + +<p> +“You gave me no chance to think well of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“But yet y’u did your duty from A to Z.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re not talking about my duty,” she flashed back. “My point is that you +weren’t fair to me. If I thought ill of you how could I help it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I expaict your Kalamazoo conscience is worryin’ y’u because y’u misjudged me.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t,” she denied instantly. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t of a revengeful disposition. I’ll forgive y’u for doing your duty and +saving my life twice,” he said, with a smile of whimsical irony. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want your forgiveness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then for thinking me a ‘bad man.’” +</p> + +<p> +“You ought to beg <i>my</i> pardon. I was a friend, at least you say I acted +like one—and you didn’t care enough to right yourself with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe I cared too much to risk trying it. I knew there would be proof some +time, and I decided to lie under the suspicion until I could get it. I see now +that wasn’t kind or fair to you. I am sorry I didn’t tell y’u all about it. May +I tell y’u the story now?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you wish.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a long story, but the main points can be told in a paragraph. The +grandfather of the two cousins, General Edward Bannister, had worn the +Confederate gray for four years, and had lost an arm in the service of the flag +with the stars and bars. After the war he returned to his home in Virginia to +find it in ruins, his slaves freed and his fields mortgaged. He had pulled +himself together for another start, and had practiced law in the little town +where his family had lived for generations. Of his two sons, one was a +ne’er-do-well. He was one of those brilliant fellows of whom much is expected +that never develops. He had a taste for low company, married beneath him, and, +after a career that was a continual mortification and humiliation to his +father, was killed in a drunken brawl under disgraceful circumstances, leaving +behind a son named for the general. The second son of General Bannister also +died young, but not before he had proved his devotion to his father by an +exemplary life. He, too, was married and left an only son, also named for the +old soldier. The boys were about of an age and were well matched in physical +and mental equipment. But the general, who had taken them both to live with +him, soon discovered that their characters were as dissimilar as the poles. One +grandson was frank, generous, open as the light; the other was of a nature +almost degenerate. In fact, each had inherited the qualities of his father. +Tales began to come to the old general’s ears that at first he refused to +credit. But eventually it was made plain to him that one of the boys was a rake +of the most objectionable type. +</p> + +<p> +There were many stormy scenes between the general and his grandson, but the boy +continued to go from bad to worse. After a peculiarly flagrant case, involving +the character of a respectable young girl, young Ned Bannister was forbidden +his ancestral home. It had been by means of his cousin that this last iniquity +of his had been unearthed, and the boy had taken it to his grandfather in hot +indignation as the last hope of protecting the reputation of the injured girl. +From that hour the evil hatred of his cousin, always dormant in the heart, +flamed into active heat. The disowned youth swore to be revenged. A short time +later the general died, leaving what little property he had entirely to the one +grandson. This stirred again the bitter rage of the other. He set fire to the +house that had been willed his cousin, and took a train that night for Wyoming. +By a strange irony of fate they met again in the West years later, and the +enmity between them was renewed, growing every month more bitter on the part of +the one who called himself the King of the Bighorn Country. +</p> + +<p> +She broke the silence after his story with a gentle “Thank you. I can +understand why you don’t like to tell the story.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very glad of the chance to tell it to you,” he answered. +</p> + +<p> +“When you were delirious you sometimes begged some one you called Ned not to +break his mother’s heart. I thought then you might be speaking to yourself as +ill people do. Of course I see now it was your cousin that was on your mind.” +</p> + +<p> +“When I was out of my head I must have talked a lot of nonsense,” he suggested, +in the voice of a question. “I expect I had opinions I wouldn’t have been +scattering around so free if I’d known what I was saying.” +</p> + +<p> +He was hardly prepared for the tide of color that swept her cheeks at his words +nor for the momentary confusion that shuttered the shy eyes with long lashes +cast down. +</p> + +<p> +“Sick folks do talk foolishness, they say,” he added, his gaze trained on her +suspiciously. +</p> + +<p> +“Do they?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Winslow says I did. But when I asked her what it was I said she only +laughed and told me to ask y’u. Well, I’m askin’ now.” +</p> + +<p> +She became very busy over the teapot. “You talked about the work at your +ranch—sheep dipping and such things.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was that all?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, about lots of other things—football and your early life. I don’t see +what Mrs. Winslow meant. Will you have some more tea?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank y’u. I have finished. Yes, that ce’tainly seems harmless. I didn’t +know but I had been telling secrets.” Still his unwavering eyes rested quietly +on her. +</p> + +<p> +“Secrets?” She summoned her aplomb to let a question rest lightly in the face +she turned toward him, though she was afraid she met his eyes hardly long +enough for complete innocence “Why, yes, secrets.” He measured looks with her +deliberately before he changed the subject, and he knew again the delightful +excitement of victory. “Are y’u going to read to me this evening?” +</p> + +<p> +She took his opening so eagerly that he smiled, at which her color mounted +again. +</p> + +<p> +“If y’u like. What shall I read?” +</p> + +<p> +“Some more of Barrie’s books, if y’u don’t mind. When a fellow is weak as a +kitten he sorter takes to things that are about kids.” +</p> + +<p> +Nora came in and cleared away the supper things. She was just beginning to wash +them when McWilliams and Denver dropped into the kitchen by different doors. +Each seemed surprised and disappointed at the presence of the other. Nora gave +each of them a smile and a dishcloth. +</p> + +<p> +“Reddy, he’s shavin’ and Frisco’s struggling with a biled shirt—I mean +with a necktie,” Denver hastily amended. “They’ll be along right soon, I +shouldn’t wonder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u better go tell the boys Miss Nora don’t want her kitchen littered up with +so many of them,” suggested his rival. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’re foreman here. I don’t aim to butt into your business, Mac,” grinned +back the other, polishing a tea plate with the towel. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to get some table linen over to Lee Ming to-night,” said Nora, +presently. +</p> + +<p> +“Denver, he’ll be glad to take it for y’u, Miss Nora. He’s real obliging,” +offered Mac, generously. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been in the house all day, so I need a walk. I thought perhaps one of you +gentlemen—” Miss Nora looked from one to the other of them with deep +innocence. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure, I’ll go along and carry it. Just as Mac says, I’ll be real pleased to +go,” said Denver, hastily. +</p> + +<p> +Mac felt he had been a trifle precipitate in his assumption that Nora did not +intend to go herself. Lee Ming had established a laundry some half mile from +the ranch, and the way thereto lay through most picturesque shadow and +moonlight. The foreman had conscientious scruples against letting Denver escort +her down such a veritable lovers’ lane of romantic scenery. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know as y’u ought to go out in the night air with that cold, Denver. +I’d hate a heap to have y’u catch pneumony. It don’t seem to me I’d be +justified in allowin’ y’u to,” said the foreman, anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re <i>that</i> thoughtful, Mac. But I expect mebbe a little saunter with +Miss Nora will do my throat good. We’ll walk real slow, so’s not to wear out my +strength.” +</p> + +<p> +“Big, husky fellows like y’u are awful likely to drop off with pneumony. I been +thinkin’ I got some awful good medicine that would be the right stuff for y’u. +It’s in the drawer of my wash-stand. Help yourself liberal and it will surely +do y’u good. Y’u’ll find it <i>in a bottle</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll bet it’s good medicine, Mac. After we get home I’ll drop around. In the +washstand, y’u said?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hate to have y’u take such a risk,” Mac tried again. “There ain’t a bit of +use in y’u exposing yourself so careless. Y’u take a hot footbath and some of +that medicine, Denver, then go right straight to bed, and in the mo’ning y’u’ll +be good as new. Honest, y’u won’t know yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u got the <i>best</i> heart, Mac.” +</p> + +<p> +Nora giggled. +</p> + +<p> +“Since I’m foreman I got to be a mother to y’u boys, ain’t I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’re liable to be a grandmother to us if y’u keep on,” came back the young +giant. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u plumb discourage me, Denver,” sighed the foreman. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir! The way I look at it, a fellow’s got to take some risk. Now, y’u +cayn’t tell some things. I figure I ain’t half so likely to catch pneumony as +y’u would be to get heart trouble if y’u went walking with Miss Nora,” returned +Denver. +</p> + +<p> +A perfect gravity sat on both their faces during the progress of most of their +repartee. +</p> + +<p> +“If your throat’s so bad, Mr. Halliday, I’ll put a kerosene rag round it for +you when we get back,” Nora said, with a sweet little glance of sympathy that +the foreman did not enjoy. +</p> + +<p> +Denver, otherwise “Mr. Halliday,” beamed. “Y’u’re real kind, ma’am. I’ll bet +that will help it on the outside much as Mac’s medicine will inside.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’ll y’u do for my heart, ma’am, if it gits bad the way Denver figures it +will?” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u might try a mustard plaster,” she gurgled, with laughter. +</p> + +<p> +For once the debonair foreman’s ready tongue had brought him to defeat. He was +about to retire from the field temporarily when Nora herself offered first aid +to the wounded. +</p> + +<p> +“We would like to have you come along with us, Mr. McWilliams. I want you to +come if you can spare the time.” +</p> + +<p> +The soft eyes telegraphed an invitation with such a subtle suggestion of a +private understanding that Mac was instantly encouraged to accept. +</p> + +<p> +He knew, of course, that she was playing them against each other and sitting +back to enjoy the result, but he was possessed of the hope common to youths in +his case that he really was on a better footing with her than the other boys. +This opinion, it may be added, was shared by Denver, Frisco and even Reddy as +regards themselves. Which is merely another way of putting the regrettable fact +that this very charming young woman was given to coquetting with the hearts of +her admirers. +</p> + +<p> +“Any time y’u get oneasy about that cough y’u go right on home, Denver. Don’t +stay jest out of politeness. We’ll never miss y’u, anyhow,” the foreman assured +him. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank y’u, Mac. But y’u see I got to stay to keep Miss Nora from getting +bored.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was it a phrenologist strung y’u with the notion y’u was a cure for +lonesomeness?” +</p> + +<p> +“Shucks! I don’t make no such claims. The only thing is it’s a comfort when +you’re bored to have company. Miss Nora, she’s so polite. But, y’u see, if I’m +along I can take y’u for a walk when y’u get too bad.” +</p> + +<p> +They reached the little trail that ran up to Lee Ming’s place, and Denver +suggested that Mac run in with the bundle so as to save Nora the climb. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to, honest I would. But since y’u thought of it first I won’t steal +the credit of doing Miss Nora a good turn. We’ll wait right here for y’u till +y’u come back.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll all go up together,” decided Nora, and honors were easy. +</p> + +<p> +In the pleasant moonlight they sauntered back, two of them still engaged in +lively badinage, while the third played chorus with appreciative little giggles +and murmurs of “Oh, Mr. Halliday!” and “You know you’re just flattering me, Mr. +McWilliams.” +</p> + +<p> +If they had not been so absorbed in their gay foolishness the two men might not +have walked so innocently into the trap waiting for them at their journey’s +end. As it was, the first intimation they had of anything unusual was a stern +command to surrender. +</p> + +<p> +“Throw up your hands. Quick, you blank fools!” +</p> + +<p> +A masked man covered them, in each hand a six-shooter, and at his summons the +arms of the cow-punchers went instantly into the air. +</p> + +<p> +Nora gave an involuntary little scream of dismay. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u don’t need to be afraid, lady. Ain’t nobody going to hurt you, I reckon,” +the masked man growled. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure they won’t,” Mac reassured her, adding ironically: “This gun-play +business is just neighborly frolic. Liable to happen any day in Wyoming.” +</p> + +<p> +A second masked man stepped up. He, too was garnished with an arsenal. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s all this talking about?” he demanded sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“We just been having a little conversation seh?” returned McWilliams, gently, +his vigilant eyes searching through the disguise of the other “Just been +telling the lady that your call is in friendly spirit. No objections, I +suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +The swarthy newcomer, who seemed to be in command, swore sourly. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u put a knot in your tongue, Mr. Foreman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ce’tainly, if y’u prefer,” returned the indomitable McWilliams. +</p> + +<p> +“Shut up or I’ll pump lead into you!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m padlocked, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +Nora Darling interrupted the dialogue by quietly fainting. The foreman caught +her as she fell. +</p> + +<p> +“See what y’u done, y’u blamed chump!” he snapped. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII.<br/> +THE TWO COUSINS</h2> + +<p> +The sheepman lay at his ease, the strong supple lines of him stretched lazily +on the lounge. Helen was sitting beside him in an easy chair, and he watched +the play of her face in the lamplight as she read from “The Little White Bird.” +She was very good to see, so vitally alive and full of a sweet charm that half +revealed and half concealed her personality. The imagination with which she +threw herself into a discussion of the child fancies portrayed by the Scotch +writer captured his fancy. It delighted him to tempt her into discussions that +told him by suggestion something of what she thought and was. +</p> + +<p> +They were in animated debate when the door opened to admit somebody else. He +had stepped in so quietly that he stood there a little while without being +observed, smiling down at them with triumphant malice behind the mask he wore. +Perhaps it was the black visor that was responsible for the Mephisto effect, +since it hid all the face but the leering eyes. These, narrowed to slits, swept +the room and came back to its occupants. He was a tall man and well-knit, +dressed incongruously in up-to-date riding breeches and boots, in combination +with the usual gray shirt, knotted kerchief and wide-brimmed felt hat of the +horseman of the plains. The dust of the desert lay thick on him, without in the +least obscuring a certain ribald elegance, a distinction of wickedness that +rested upon him as his due. To this result his debonair manner contributed, +though it carried with it no suggestion of weakness. To the girl who looked up +and found him there he looked indescribably sinister. +</p> + +<p> +She half rose to her feet, dilated eyes fixed on him. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evenin’. I came to make sure y’u got safe home, Miss Messiter,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +The eyes of the two men clashed, the sheepman’s stern and unyielding, his +cousin’s lit with the devil of triumph. But out of the faces of both men looked +the inevitable conflict, the declaration of war that never ends till death. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been a heap anxious about y’u—couldn’t sleep for worrying. So I +saddled up and rode in to find out if y’u were all right and to inquire how +Cousin Ned was getting along.” +</p> + +<p> +The sheepman, not deigning to move an inch from his position, looked in silence +his steady contempt. +</p> + +<p> +“This conversation sounds a whole lot like a monologue up to date,” he +continued. “Now, maybe y’u don’t know y’u have the honor of entertaining the +King of the Bighorn.” The man’s brown hand brushed the mask from his eyes and +he bowed with mocking deference. “Miss Messiter, allow me to introduce myself +again—Ned Bannister, train robber, rustler, kidnapper and general bad +man. But I ain’t told y’u the worst yet. I’m cousin to a sheepherder’ and +that’s the lowest thing that walks.” +</p> + +<p> +He limped forward a few steps and sat down. “Thank you, I believe I will stay a +while since y’u both ask me so urgent. It isn’t often I meet with a welcome so +hearty and straight from the heart.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not hard to see how the likeness between them contributed to the mistake +that had been current concerning them. Side by side, no man could have mistaken +one for the other. The color of their eyes, the shade of hair, even the cut of +their features, were different. But beneath all distinctions in detail ran a +family resemblance not to be denied. This man looked like his cousin, the +sheepman, as the latter might have done if all his life he had given a free +rein to evil passions. +</p> + +<p> +The height, the build, the elastic tread of each, made further contributions to +this effect of similarity. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing here?” They were the first words spoken by the man on the +lounge and they rang with a curt challenge. +</p> + +<p> +“Come to inquire after the health of my dear cousin,” came the prompt silken +answer. +</p> + +<p> +“You villain!” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear cousin, y’u speak with such conviction that y’u almost persuade me. +But of course if I’m a villain I’ve got to live up to my reputation. Haven’t I, +Miss Messiter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wouldn’t it be better to live it down?” she asked with a quietness that belied +her terror. For there had been in his manner a threat, not against her but +against the man whom her heart acknowledged as her lover. +</p> + +<p> +He laughed. “Y’u’re still hoping to make a Sunday school superintendent out of +me, I see. Y’u haven’t forgot all your schoolmarm ways yet, but I’ll teach y’u +to forget them.” +</p> + +<p> +The other cousin watched him with a cool, quiet glance that never wavered. The +outlaw was heavily armed, but his weapons were sheathed, and, though there was +a wary glitter behind the vindictive exultation in his eyes, his capable hands +betrayed no knowledge of the existence of his revolvers. It was, he knew, to be +a moral victory, if one at all. +</p> + +<p> +“Hope I’m not disturbing any happy family circle,” he remarked, and, taking two +limping steps forward, he lifted the book from the girl’s unresisting hands. +“H’m! Barrie. I don’t go much on him. He’s too sissy for me. But I could have +guessed the other Ned Bannister would be reading something like that,” he +concluded, a flicker of sneering contempt crossing his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps y’u’ll learn some time to attend to your own business,” said the man +on the couch quietly. +</p> + +<p> +Hatred gleamed in the narrowed slits from which the soul of the other cousin +looked down at him. “I’m a philanthropist, and my business is attending to +other people’s. They raise sheep, for instance, and I market them.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl hastily interrupted. She had not feared for herself, but she knew fear +for the indomitable man she had nursed back to life. “Won’t you sit down, Mr. +Bannister? Since you don’t approve our literature, perhaps we can find some +other diversion more to your taste.” She smiled faintly. +</p> + +<p> +The man turned in smiling divination of her purpose, and sat down to play with +her as a cat does with a mouse. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank y’u, Miss Messiter, I believe I will. I called to thank y’u for your +kindness to my cousin as well as to inquire about you. The word goes that y’u +pulled my dear cousin back when death was reaching mighty strong for him. Of +course I feel grateful to y’u. How is he getting along now?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s doing very well, I think.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s ce’tainly good hearing,” was his ironical response. “How come he to get +hurt, did y’u say?” +</p> + +<p> +His sleek smile was a thing hateful to see. +</p> + +<p> +“A hound bit me,” explained the sheepman. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u don’t say! I reckon y’u oughtn’t to have got in its way. Did y’u kill it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was surely a mistake, for it’s liable to bite again.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl felt a sudden sickness at his honeyed cruelty, but immediately pulled +herself together. For whatever fiendish intention might be in his mind she +meant to frustrate it. +</p> + +<p> +“I hear you are of a musical turn, Mr. Bannister. Won’t you play for us?” +</p> + +<p> +She had by chance found his weak spot. Instantly his eyes lit up. He stepped +across to the piano and began to look over the music, though not so intently +that he forgot to keep under his eye the man on the lounge. +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! Mozart, Grieg, Chopin, Raff, Beethoven. Y’u ce’tainly have the music +here; I wonder if y’u have the musician.” He looked her over with a bold, +unscrupulous gaze. “It’s an old trick to have classical music on the rack and +ragtime in your soul. Can y’u play these?” +</p> + +<p> +“You will have to be the judge of that,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +He selected two of Grieg’s songs and invited her to the piano. He knew +instantly that the Norwegian’s delicate fancy and lyrical feeling had found in +her no inadequate medium of expression. The peculiar emotional quality of the +song “I Love Thee” seemed to fill the room as she played. When she swung round +on the stool at its conclusion it was to meet a shining-eyed, musical +enthusiast instead of the villain she had left five minutes earlier. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u <i>can</i> play,” was all he said, but the manner of it spoke volumes. +</p> + +<p> +For nearly an hour he kept her at the piano, and when at last he let her stop +playing he seemed a man transformed. +</p> + +<p> +“You have given me a great pleasure, a very great pleasure, Miss Messiter,” he +thanked her warmly, his Western idiom sloughed with his villainy for the +moment. “It has been a good many months since I have heard any decent music. +With your permission I shall come again.” +</p> + +<p> +Her hesitation was imperceptible. “Surely, if you wish.” She felt it would be +worse than idle to deny the permission she might not be able to refuse. +</p> + +<p> +With perfect grace he bowed, and as he wheeled away met with a little shock of +remembrance the gaze of his cousin. For a long moment their eyes bored into +each other. Neither yielded the beat of an eyelid, but it was the outlaw that +spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“I had forgotten y’u. That’s strange, too because it was for y’u I came. I’m +going to take y’u home with me. +</p> + +<p> +“Alive or dead?” asked the other serenely. +</p> + +<p> +“Alive, dear Ned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Same old traits cropping out again. There was always something feline about +y’u. I remember when y’u were a boy y’u liked to torment wild animals y’u had +trapped.” +</p> + +<p> +“I play with larger game now—and find it more interesting.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just so. Miss Messiter, I shall have to borrow a pony from y’u, unless—” +He broke off and turned indifferently to the bandit. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I brought a hawss along with me for y’u,” replied the other to the +unvoiced question. “I thought maybe y’u might want to ride with us.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he can’t ride. He couldn’t possibly. It would kill him,” the girl broke +out. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon not.” The man from the Shoshones glanced at his victim as he drew on +his gauntlets. “He’s a heap tougher than y’u think.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it will. If he should ride now, why—It would be the same as murder,” +she gasped. “You wouldn’t make him ride now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t y’u hear him order his hawss, ma’am? He’s keen on this ride. Of course +he don’t have to go unless he wants to.” The man turned his villainous smile on +his cousin, and the latter interpreted it to mean that if he preferred, the +point of attack might be shifted to the girl. He might go or he might stay. But +if he stayed the mistress of the Lazy D would have to pay for his decision. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’ll ride,” he said at once. +</p> + +<p> +Helen Messiter had missed the meaning of that Marconied message that flashed +between them. She set her jaw with decision. “Well, you’ll not. It’s perfectly +ridiculous. I won’t hear of such a thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u seem right welcome. Hadn’t y’u better stay, Ned?” murmured the outlaw, +with smiling eyes that mocked. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course he had. He couldn’t ride a mile—not half a mile. The idea is +utterly preposterous.” +</p> + +<p> +The sheepman got to his feet unsteadily. “I’ll do famously.” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t have it. Why are you so foolish about going? He said you didn’t need +to go. You can’t ride any more than a baby could chop down that pine in the +yard.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m a heap stronger than y’u think.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you are!” she derided. “It’s nothing but obstinacy. Make him stay,” she +appealed to the outlaw. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I my cousin’s keeper?” he drawled. “I can advise him to stay, but I can’t +make him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, <i>I</i> can. I’m his nurse, and I say he sha’n’t stir a foot out of +this house—not a foot.” +</p> + +<p> +The wounded man smiled quietly, admiring the splendid energy of her. “I’m right +sorry to leave y’u so unceremoniously.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re not going.” She wheeled on the outlaw “I don’t understand this at all. +But if you want him you can find him here when you come again. Put him on +parole and leave him here. I’ll not be a party to murder by letting him go.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u think I’m going to murder him?” he smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“I think he cannot stand the riding. It would kill him.” +</p> + +<p> +“A haidstrong man is bound to have his way. He seems hell-bent on riding. All +the docs say the outside of a hawss is good for the inside of a man. Mebbe +it’ll be the making of him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t have it. I’ll rouse the whole countryside against you. Why don’t you +parole him till he is better?” +</p> + +<p> +“All right. We’ll leave it that way,” announced the man. “I’d hate to hurt your +tender feelings after such a pleasant evening. Let him give his parole to come +to me whenever I send for him, no matter where he may be, to quit whatever he +is doing right that instant, and come on the jump. If he wants to leave it that +way, we’ll call it a bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +Again the rapier-thrust of their eyes crossed. The sheepman was satisfied with +what he saw in the face of his foe. +</p> + +<p> +“All right. It’s a deal,” he agreed, and sank weakly back to the couch. +</p> + +<p> +There are men whose looks are a profanation to any good woman. Ned Bannister, +of the Shoshones, was one of them. He looked at his cousin, and his ribald eyes +coasted back to bold scrutiny of this young woman’s charming, buoyant youth. +There was Something in his face that sent a flush of shame coursing through her +rich blood. No man had ever looked at her like that before. +</p> + +<p> +“Take awful good care of him,” he sneered, with so plain an implication of evil +that her clean blood boiled. “But I know y’u will, and don’t let him go before +he’s real strong.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she murmured, hating herself for the flush that bathed her. +</p> + +<p> +He bowed like a Chesterfield, and went out with elastic heels, spurs clicking. +</p> + +<p> +Helen turned fiercely on her guest. “Why did you make me insist on your +staying? As if I want you here, as if—” She stopped, choking with anger; +presently flamed out, “I hate you,” and ran from the room to hide herself alone +with her tears and her shame. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV.<br/> +FOR THE WORLD’S CHAMPIONSHIP</h2> + +<p> +The scene on which Helen Messiter’s eyes rested that mellow Fourth of July was +vivid enough to have interested a far more jaded mind than hers. Nowhere +outside of Cattleland could it have been duplicated. Wyoming is sparsely +populated, but the riders of the plains think nothing of traveling a hundred +miles in the saddle to be present at a “broncobusting” contest. Large +delegations, too, had come in by railroad from Caspar, Billings, Sheridan, +Cheyenne and a score of other points, so that the amphitheatre that looked down +on the arena was filled to its capacity. +</p> + +<p> +All night the little town had rioted with its guests. Everything was wide open +at Gimlet Butte. Saloons were doing a land-office business and gambling-houses +coining money. Great piles of gold had passed to and fro during the night at +the roulette wheel and the faro table. But with the coming of day interest had +centered on the rough-riding contest for the world’s championship. Saloons and +dance halls were deserted, and the universal trend of travel had been toward +the big grand stands, from which the sport could be best viewed. +</p> + +<p> +It was afternoon now. The preliminaries had been ridden, and half a dozen of +the best riders had been chosen by the judges to ride again for the finals. +Helen was wonderfully interested, because in the six who were to ride again +were included the two Bannister cousins, her foreman, McWilliams, the young man +“Texas,” whom she had met the day of her arrival at Gimlet Butte, and Tom +Sanford, who had last year won the championship. +</p> + +<p> +She looked down on the arena, and her heart throbbed with the pure joy of life. +Already she loved her West and its picturesque, chap-clad population. Their +jingling spurs and their colored kerchiefs knotted round sunburned necks, their +frank, whole-hearted abandon to the interest of the moment, led her to regard +these youths as schoolboys. Yet they were a hard-bitten lot, as one could see, +burned to a brick-red by the untempered sun of the Rockies; with muscles knit +like steel, and hearts toughened to endure any blizzard they might meet. Only +the humorous wrinkles about the corners of their eyes gave them away for the +cheerful sons of mirth that they were. +</p> + +<p> +“Bob Austin on Two-Step,” announced the megaphone man, and a little stir eddied +through the group gathered at the lane between the arena and the corral. +</p> + +<p> +A meek-looking buckskin was driven into the arena. The embodiment of +listlessness, it apparently had not ambition enough to flick a fly from its +flank with its tail. Suddenly the bronco’s ears pricked, its sharp eyes +dilated. A man was riding forward, the loop of a lariat circling about his +head. The rope fell true, but the wily pony side-stepped, and the loop +slithered to the ground. Again the rope shot forward, dropped over the pony’s +head and tightened. The roper’s mustang braced its forefeet, and brought the +buckskin up short. Another rope swept over its head. It stood trembling, unable +to move without strangling itself. +</p> + +<p> +A picturesque youth in flannel shirt and chaps came forward, dragging blanket, +saddle and bridle. At sight of him the horse gave a spasmodic fling, then +trembled again violently. A blind was coaxed over its eyes and the bridle +slipped on. Quickly and warily, with deft fingers, the young man saddled and +cinched. He waved a hand jauntily to the ropers. The lariats were thrown off as +the puncher swung to the saddle. For an instant the buckskin stood bewildered, +motionless as a statue. There was a sudden leap forward high in air, and Bob +Austin, alias “Texas,” swung his sombrero with a joyous whoop. +</p> + +<p> +“Fan him! Fan him!” screamed the spectators, and the rider’s quirt went up and +down like a piston-rod. +</p> + +<p> +Round and round went Two-Step in a vicious circle, “swapping ends” with +dizzying rapidity. Suddenly he went forward as from a catapult, and came to +sudden halt in about five seconds. But Texas’s knees still clung, viselike, to +the sides of the pony. A series of quick bucks followed, the buckskin coming +down with back humped, all four legs stiff as iron posts. The jar on the rider +would have been like a pile-driver falling on his head had he not let himself +grow limp. The buckskin plunged forward again in frenzied leaps, ending in an +unexpected jump to one side. Alas for Texas! One moment he was jubilantly +plying quirt and spurs, the next he found himself pitching sideways. To save +himself he caught at the saddle-horn. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s hunting leather,” shouted a hundred voices. +</p> + +<p> +One of the judges rode out and waved a hand. Texas slipped to the ground +disqualified, and made his dejected way back to his deriding comrades. Some of +them had endured similar misfortunes earlier in the day. Therefore they found +much pleasure in condoling with him. +</p> + +<p> +“If he’d only recollected to saw off the horn of his saddle, then he couldn’t +’a’ found it when he went to hunt leather,” mournfully commented one puncher in +a shirt of robin’s egg blue. +</p> + +<p> +“’Twould have been most as good as to take the dust, wouldn’t it?” retorted +Texas gently, and the laugh was on the gentleman in blue, because he had been +thrown earlier in the day. +</p> + +<p> +“A fellow’s hands sure get in his way sometimes. I reckon if you’d tied your +hands, Tex, you’d been riding that rocking-hawss yet,” suggested Denver +amiably. +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes it’s his foot he puts in it. There was onct a gent disqualified for +riding on his spurs,” said Texas reminiscently. +</p> + +<p> +At which hit Denver retired, for not three hours before he had been detected +digging his spurs into the cinch to help him stick to the saddle. +</p> + +<p> +“Jim McWilliams will ride Dead Easy,” came the announcement through the +megaphone, and a burst of cheering passed along the grand stand, for the sunny +smile of the foreman of the Lazy D made him a general favorite. Helen leaned +forward and whispered something gaily to Nora, who sat in the seat in front of +her. The Irish girl laughed and blushed, but when her mistress looked up it was +her turn to feel the mounting color creep into her cheeks. For Ned Bannister, +arrayed in all his riding finery, was making his way along the aisle to her. +</p> + +<p> +She had not seen him since he had ridden away from the Lazy D ten days before, +quite sufficiently recovered from his wounds to take up the routine of life +again. They had parted not the best of friends, for she had not yet forgiven +him for his determination to leave with his cousin on the night that she had +been forced to insist on his remaining. He had put her in a false position, and +he had never explained to her why. Nor could she guess the reason—for he +was not a man to harvest credit for himself by explaining his own chivalry. +</p> + +<p> +Since her heart told her how glad she was he had come to her box to see her, +she greeted him with the coolest little nod in the world. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning, Miss Messiter. May I sit beside y’u?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, certainly!” She swept her skirts aside carelessly and made room for him. +“I thought you were going to ride soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I ride last except for Sanford, the champion. My cousin rides just before +me. He’s entered under the name of Jack Holloway.” +</p> + +<p> +She was thinking that he had no business to be riding, that his wounds were +still too fresh, but she did not intend again to show interest enough in his +affairs to interfere even by suggestion. Her heart had been in her mouth every +moment of the time this morning while he had been tossed hither and thither on +the back of his mount. In his delirium he had said he loved her. If he did, why +should he torture her so? It was well enough for sound men to risk their lives, +but— +</p> + +<p> +A cheer swelled in the grand stand and died breathlessly away. McWilliams was +setting a pace it would take a rare expert to equal. He was a trick rider, and +all the spectacular feats that appealed to the onlooker were his. While his +horse was wildly pitching, he drank a bottle of pop and tossed the bottle away. +With the reins in his teeth he slipped off his coat and vest, and concluded a +splendid exhibition of skill by riding with his feet out of the stirrups. He +had been smoking a cigar when he mounted. Except while he had been drinking the +pop it had been in his mouth from beginning to end, and, after he had vaulted +from the pony’s back, he deliberately puffed a long smoke-spiral into the air, +to show that his cigar was still alight. No previous rider had earned so +spontaneous a burst of applause. “He’s ce’tainly a pure when it comes to +riding,” acknowledged Bannister. “I look to see him get either first or +second.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whom do you think is his most dangerous rival?” Helen asked. +</p> + +<p> +“My cousin is a straight-up rider, too. He’s more graceful than Mac, I think, +but not quite so good on tricks. It will be nip and tuck.” +</p> + +<p> +“How about your cousin’s cousin?” she asked, with bold irony. +</p> + +<p> +“He hopes he won’t have to take the dust,” was his laughing answer. +</p> + +<p> +The next rider suffered defeat irrevocably before he had been thirty seconds in +the saddle. His mount was one of the most cunning of the outlaw ponies of the +Northwest, and it brought him to grief by jamming his leg hard against the +fence. He tried in vain to spur the bronco into the middle of the arena, but +after it drove at a post for the third time and ground his limb against it, he +gave up to the pain and slipped off. +</p> + +<p> +“That isn’t fair, is it?” Helen asked of the young man sitting beside her. +</p> + +<p> +He shrugged his lean, broad shoulders. “He should have known how to keep the +horse in the open. Mac would never have been caught that way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Jack Holloway on Rocking Horse,” the announcer shouted. +</p> + +<p> +It took four men and two lariats to subdue this horse to a condition +sufficiently tame to permit of a saddle being slipped on. Even then this could +not be accomplished without throwing the bronco first. The result was that all +the spirit was taken out of the animal by the preliminary ordeal, so that when +the man from the Shoshone country mounted, his steed was too jaded to attempt +resistance. +</p> + +<p> +“Thumb him! Thumb him!” the audience cried, referring to the cowboy trick of +running the thumbs along a certain place in the shoulder to stir the anger of +the bucker. +</p> + +<p> +But the rider slipped off with disgust. “Give me another horse,” he demanded, +and after a minute’s consultation among the judges a second pony was driven out +from the corral. This one proved to be a Tartar. It went off in a frenzy of +pitching the moment its rider dropped into the saddle. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’ll go a long way before you see better ridin’ than his and Mac’s. Notice +how he gives to its pitching,” said Bannister, as he watched his cousin’s +perfect ease in the cyclone of which he was the center. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect it depends on the kind of a ‘hawss,’” she mocked. “He’s riding well, +isn’t he?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know any that ride better.” +</p> + +<p> +The horse put up a superb fight, trying everything it knew to unseat this demon +clamped to its back. It possessed in combination all the worst vices, was a +weaver, a sunfisher and a fence-rower, and never had it tried so desperately to +maintain its record of never having been ridden. But the outlaw in the saddle +was too much for the outlaw underneath. He was master, just as he was first +among the ruffians whom he led, because there was in him a red-hot devil of +wickedness that would brook no rival. +</p> + +<p> +The furious bronco surrendered without an instant’s warning, and its rider +slipped at once to the ground. As he sauntered through the dust toward the +grand stand, Helen could not fail to see how his vanity sunned itself in the +applause that met his performance. His equipment was perfect to the least +detail. The reflection from a lady’s looking-glass was no brighter than the +silver spurs he jingled on his sprightly heels. Strikingly handsome in a dark, +sinister way, one would say at first sight, and later would chafe at the +justice of a verdict not to be denied. +</p> + +<p> +Ned Bannister rose from his seat beside Helen. “Wish me luck,” he said, with +his gay smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you all the luck you deserve,” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, wish me more than that if y’u want me to win.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say I wanted you to win. You take the most unaccountable things for +granted.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve a good mind to win, then, just to spite y’u,” he laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“As if you could,” she mocked; but her voice took a softer intonation as she +called after him in a low murmur: “Be careful, please.” +</p> + +<p> +His white teeth flashed a smile of reassurance at her. “I’ve never been killed +yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ned Bannister on Steamboat,” sang out the megaphone man. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m ce’tainly in luck. Steamboat’s the worst hawss on the range,” he told +himself, as he strode down the grand stand to enter the arena. +</p> + +<p> +The announcement of his name created for the second time that day a stir of +unusual interest. Everybody in that large audience had heard of Ned Bannister; +knew of his record as a “bad man” and his prowess as the king of the Shoshone +country; suspected him of being a train and bank robber as well as a rustler. +That he should have the boldness to enter the contest in his own name seemed to +show how defiant he was of the public sentiment against him, and how secure he +counted himself in flaunting this contempt. As for the sheepman, the notoriety +that his cousin’s odorous reputation had thrust upon him was extremely +distasteful as well as dangerous, but he had done nothing to disgrace his name, +and he meant to use it openly. He could almost catch the low whispers that +passed from mouth to mouth about him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t it a shame that a fellow like that, leader of all the criminals that +hide in the mountains, can show himself openly before ten thousand honest +folks?” That he knew to be the purport of their whispering, and along with it +went a recital of the crimes he had committed. How he was a noted “waddy,” or +cattle-rustler; how he and his gang had held up three trains in eighteen +months; how he had killed Tom Mooney, Bob Carney and several others—these +were the sorts of things that were being said about him, and from the bottom of +his soul he resented his impotency to clear his name. +</p> + +<p> +There was something in Bannister’s riding that caught Helen’s fancy at once. It +was the unconscious grace of the man, the ease with which he seemed to make +himself a very part of the horse. He attempted no tricks, rode without any +flourishes. But the perfect poise of his lithe body as it gave with the motions +of the horse, proclaimed him a born rider; so finished, indeed, that his very +ease seemed to discount the performance. Steamboat had a malevolent red eye +that glared hatred at the oppressor man, and to-day it lived up to its +reputation of being the most vicious and untamed animal on the frontier. But, +though it did its best to unseat the rider and trample him underfoot, there was +no moment when the issue seemed in doubt save once. The horse flung itself +backward in a somersault, risking its own neck in order to break its master’s. +But he was equal to the occasion; and when Steamboat staggered again to its +feet Bannister was still in the saddle. It was a daring and magnificent piece +of horsemanship, and, though he was supposed to be a desperado and a ruffian, +his achievement met with a breathless gasp, followed by thunderous applause. +</p> + +<p> +The battle between horse and man was on again, for the animal was as strong +almost in courage as the rider. But Steamboat’s confidence had been shaken as +well as its strength. Its efforts grew less cyclonic. Foam covered its mouth +and flecked its sides. The pitches were easy to foresee and meet. Presently +they ceased altogether. +</p> + +<p> +Bannister slid from the saddle and swayed unsteadily across the arena. The +emergency past, he had scarce an ounce of force left in him. Jim McWilliams ran +out and slipped an arm around his shoulders, regardless of what his friends +might think of him for it. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re all in, old man. Y’u hadn’t ought to have ridden, even though y’u did +skin us all to a finish.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense, Mac. First place goes to y’u or—or Jack Holloway.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not unless the judges are blind.” +</p> + +<p> +But Bannister’s prediction proved true. The champion, Sanford, had been +traveling with a Wild West show, and was far too soft to compete with these +lusty cowboys, who had kept hard from their daily life on the plains. Before he +had ridden three minutes it was apparent that he stood no chance of retaining +his title, so that the decision narrowed itself to an issue between the two +Bannisters and McWilliams. First place was awarded to the latter, the second +prize to Jack Holloway and the third to Ned Bannister. +</p> + +<p> +But nearly everybody in the grand stand knew that Bannister had been +discriminated against because of his unpopularity. The judges were not local +men, and had nothing to fear from the outlaw. Therefore they penalized him on +account of his reputation. It would never do for the Associated Press +dispatches to send word all over the East that a murderous desperado was +permitted, unmolested, to walk away with the championship belt. +</p> + +<p> +“It ain’t a square deal,” declared McWilliams promptly. +</p> + +<p> +He was sitting beside Nora, and he turned round to express his opinion to the +two sitting behind him in the box. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll not go behind the returns. Y’u won fairly. I congratulate y’u, Mr. +Champion-of-the-world,” replied the sheepman, shaking hands cordially. +</p> + +<p> +“I told you to bring that belt to the Lazy D,” smiled his mistress, as she +shook hands. +</p> + +<p> +But in her heart she was crying out that it was an outrage. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV.<br/> +JUDD MORGAN PASSES</h2> + +<p> +Gimlet Butte devoted the night of the Fourth to a high old time. The roping and +the other sports were to be on the morrow, and meanwhile the night hours were +filled with exuberance. The cowboy’s spree comes only once in several months, +but when it does come he enters into the occasion with such whole-hearted +enthusiasm as to make up swiftly for lost time. A traveling midway had cast its +tents in a vacant square in competition with the regular attractions of the +town, and everywhere the hard-riding punchers were “night herding” in full +regalia. +</p> + +<p> +There was a big masked ball in the street, and another in the Masonic Hall, +while here and there flared the lights of the faker with something to sell. +Among these last was “Soapy” Sothern, doing a thriving business in selling +suckers and bars wrapped with greenbacks. Crowds tramped the streets blowing +horns and throwing confetti, and everywhere was a large sprinkling of men in +high-heeled boots, swinging along with the awkward, stiff-legged gait of the +cowboy. Sometimes a girl was hanging on his arm, and again he was “whooping it +up with the boys”; but in either case the range-rider’s savings were burning a +hole through his pockets with extreme rapidity. +</p> + +<p> +Jim McWilliams and the sheepman Bannister had that day sealed a friendship that +was to be as enduring as life. The owner of the sheep ranch was already under +heavy obligation to the foreman of the Lazy D, but debt alone is not enough on +which to found soul brotherhood. There must be qualities of kinship in the +primeval elements of character. Both men had suspected that this kinship +existed, but to-day they had proved it in the way that one had lost and the +other had won the coveted championship. They had made no vows and no +professions. The subject had not even been touched in words; a meeting of the +eyes, followed by the handshake with which Bannister had congratulated the +winner. That had been all. But it was enough. +</p> + +<p> +With the casual democracy of the frontier they had together escorted Helen +Messiter and Nora Darling through a riotous three hours of carnival, taking +care to get them back to their hotel before the night really began “to howl.” +</p> + +<p> +But after they had left the young women, neither of them cared to sleep yet. +They were still in costume, Mac dressed as a monk, and his friend as a Stuart +cavalier, and the spirit of frolic was yet strong in them. +</p> + +<p> +“I expaict, mebbe, we better hunt in couples if we’re going to help paint the +town,” smiled Mac, and his friend had immediately agreed. +</p> + +<p> +It must have been well after midnight that they found themselves “bucking the +tiger” in a combination saloon and gambling-house, whose patrons were decidedly +cosmopolitan in character. Here white and red and yellow men played side by +side, the Orient and the Occident and the aboriginal alike intent on the +falling cards and the little rolling ball. A good many of them were still in +their masks and dominos, though these, for the most part, removed their vizors +before playing. +</p> + +<p> +Neither McWilliams nor his friend were betting high, and the luck had been so +even that at the end of two hours’ play neither of them had at any time either +won or lost more than fifteen dollars. In point of fact, they were playing not +so much to win as just to keep in touch with the gay, youthful humor of the +night. +</p> + +<p> +They were getting tired of the game when two men jingled in for a drink. They +were talking loudly together, and it was impossible to miss the subject of +their conversation. +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams gave a little jerk of his head toward one of them. “Judd Morgan,” +his lips framed without making a sound. +</p> + +<p> +Bannister nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Been tanking up all day,” Mac added. “Otherwise his tongue would not be +shooting off so reckless.” +</p> + +<p> +A silence had fallen over the assembly save for the braggarts at the bar. Men +looked at each other, and then furtively at Bannister. For Morgan, ignorant of +who was sitting quietly with his back to him at the faro-table, was venting his +hate of Bannister and McWilliams. +</p> + +<p> +“Both in the same boat. Did y’u see how Mac ran to help him to-day? Both +waddies. Both rustlers. Both train robbers. Sho! I got through putting a +padlock on me mouth. Man to man, I’m as good as either of them—damn sight +better. I wisht they was here, one or both; I wisht they would step up here and +fight it out. Bannister’s a false alarm, and that foreman of the Lazy D—” +His tongue stumbled over a blur of vilification that ended with a foul mention +of Miss Messiter. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly two chairs crashed to the floor. Two pair of gray eyes met quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“My quarrel, Bann,” said Jim, in a low, even voice. +</p> + +<p> +The other nodded. “I’ll see y’u have a clear field.” +</p> + +<p> +The man who was with Morgan suddenly whispered in his ear, and the latter +slewed his head in startled fear. Almost instantly a bullet clipped past +McWilliams’s shoulder. Morgan had fired without waiting for the challenge he +felt sure was at hand. Once—twice the foreman’s revolver made answer. +Morgan staggered, slipped down to the floor, a bullet crashing through the +chandelier as he fell. For a moment his body jerked. Then he rolled over and +lay still. +</p> + +<p> +The foreman’s weapon covered him unwaveringly, but no more steadily than +Bannister’s gaze the man who had come in with him who lay lifeless on the +floor. The man looked at the lifeless thing, shuddered, and backed out of the +saloon. +</p> + +<p> +“I call y’u all to witness that my friend killed him in self-defense,” said +Bannister evenly. “Y’u all saw him fire first. Mac did not even have his gun +out.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right,” agreed one, and another added: “He got what was coming to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“He sure did,” was the barkeeper’s indorsement. “He came in hunting trouble, +but I reckon he didn’t want to be accommodated so prompt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’ll find us at the Gimlet Butte House if we’re wanted for this,” said +Bannister. “We’ll be there till morning.” +</p> + +<p> +But once out of the gambling-house McWilliams drew his friend to one side. “Do +y’u know who that was I killed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Judd Morgan, foreman before y’u at the Lazy D.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but what else?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do y’u mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“I mean that next to your cousin Judd was leader of that Shoshone-Teton bunch.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do y’u know?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suspected it a long time, but I knew for sure the day that your cousin held +up the ranch. The man that was in charge of the crowd outside was Morgan. I +could swear to it. I knew him soon as I clapped eyes to him, but I was awful +careful to forget to tell him I recognized him.” +</p> + +<p> +“That means we are in more serious trouble than I had supposed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u bet it does. We’re in a hell of a hole, figure it out any way y’u like. +Instead of having shot up a casual idiot, I’ve killed Ned Bannister’s +right-hand man. That will be the excuse—shooting Morgan. But the real +trouble is that I won the championship belt from your cousin. He already hated +y’u like poison, and he don’t love me any too hard. He will have us arrested by +his sheriff here. Catch the point. <i>Y’u’re Ned Bannister, the outlaw, and I’m +his right-bower</i>. That’s the play he’s going to make, and he’s going to make +it right soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t care if he does. We’ll fight him on his own ground. We’ll prove that +he’s the miscreant and not us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Prove nothing,” snarled McWilliams. “Do y’u reckon he’ll give us a chance to +prove a thing? Not on your life. He’ll have us jailed first thing; then he’ll +stir up a sentiment against us, and before morning there will be a lynchingbee, +and y’u and I will wear the neckties. How do y’u like the looks of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“But y’u have a lot of friends. They won’t stand for anything like that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not if they had time to stop it. Trouble is, fellow’s friends think awful +slow. They’ll arrive in time to cut us down and be the mourners. No, sir! It’s +a hike for Jimmie Mac on the back of the first bronc he can slap a saddle on.” +</p> + +<p> +Bannister frowned. “I don’t like to run before the scurvy scoundrels.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do y’u suppose I’m enjoying it? Not to any extent, I allow. But that sweet +relative of yours holds every ace in the deck, and he’ll play them, too. He +owns the law in this man’s town, and he owns the lawless. But the best card he +holds is that he can get a thousand of the best people here to join him in +hanging the ‘king’ of the Shoshone outlaws. Explanations nothing! Y’u +<i>rode</i> under the name of Bannister, didn’t y’u? He’s Jack Holloway.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does make a strong combination,” admitted the sheepman. +</p> + +<p> +“Strong! It’s invincible. I can see him playing it, laughing up his sleeve all +the time at the honest fools he is working. No, sir! I draw out of a game like +that. Y’u don’t get a run for your money.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course he knows already what has happened,” mused Bannister. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure he knows. That fellow with Morgan made a bee-line for him. Just about now +he’s routing the sheriff out of his bed. We got no time to lose. Thing is, to +burn the wind out of this town while we have the chance.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. It won’t help us any to be spilling lead into a sheriff’s posse. That +would ce’tainly put us in the wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now y’u’re shouting. If we’re honest men why don’t we surrender peaceable? +That’s the play the ‘king’ is going to make in this town. Now if we should +spoil a posse and bump off one or two of them, we couldn’t pile up evidence +enough to get a jury to acquit. No, sir! We can’t surrender and we can’t fight. +Consequence is, we got to roll our tails immediate.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have an appointment with Miss Messiter and Nora for to-morrow morning. +We’ll have to leave word we can’t keep it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure. Denver and Missou are playing the wheel down at the Silver Dollar. I +reckon we better make those boys jump and run errands for us while we lie low. +I’ll drop in casual and give them the word. Meet y’u here in ten minutes. +Whatever y’u do, keep that mask on your face.” +</p> + +<p> +“Better meet farther from the scene of trouble. Suppose we say the north gate +of the grand stand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Good enough. So-long.” +</p> + +<p> +The first faint streaks of day were beginning to show on the horizon when +Bannister reached the grand stand. He knew that inside of another half-hour the +little frontier town would be blinking in the early morning sunlight that falls +so brilliantly through the limpid atmosphere. If they were going to leave +without fighting their way out there was no time to lose. +</p> + +<p> +Ten minutes slowly ticked away. +</p> + +<p> +He glanced at his watch. “Five minutes after four. I wish I had gone with Mac. +He may have been recognized.” +</p> + +<p> +But even as the thought flitted through his mind, the semi-darkness opened to +let a figure out of it. +</p> + +<p> +“All quiet along the Potomac, seh?” asked the foreman’s blithe voice. “Good. I +found the boys and got them started.” He flung down a Mexican vaquero’s gaily +trimmed costume. +</p> + +<p> +“Get into these, seh. Denver shucked them for me. That coyote must have noticed +what we wore before he slid out. Y’u can bet the orders are to watch for us as +we were dressed then.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are y u going to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Me? I’m scheduled to be Aaron Burr, seh. Missou swaps with me when he gets +back here. They’re going to rustle us some white men’s clothes, too, but we +cayn’t wear them till we get out of town on account of showing our handsome +faces.” +</p> + +<p> +“What about horses?” +</p> + +<p> +“Denver is rustling some for us. Y’u better be scribbling your billy-doo to the +girl y’u leave behind y’u, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t y’u got one to scribble?” Bannister retorted. “Seems to me y’u better +get busy, too.” +</p> + +<p> +So it happened that when Missou arrived a few minutes later he found this pair +of gentlemen, who were about to flee for their lives, busily inditing what +McWilliams had termed facetiously <i>billets-doux</i>. Each of them was trying +to make his letter a little warmer than friendship allowed without committing +himself to any chance of a rebuff. Mac got as far as Nora Darling, +absentmindedly inserted a comma between the words, and there stuck hopelessly. +He looked enviously across at Bannister, whose pencil was traveling rapidly +down his note-book. +</p> + +<p> +“My, what a swift trail your pencil leaves on that paper. That’s going some. +Mine’s bogged down before it got started. I wisht y’u would start me off.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you ain’t up and started a business college already. I had ought to +have brought a typewriter along with me,” murmured Missou ironically. +</p> + +<p> +“How are things stacking? Our friends the enemy getting busy yet?” asked +Bannister, folding and addressing his note. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what. Orders gone out to guard every road so as not to let you pass. +What’s the matter with me rustling up the boys and us holding down a corner of +this town ourselves?” +</p> + +<p> +The sheepman shook his head. “We’re not going to start a little private war of +our own. We couldn’t do that without spilling a lot of blood. No, we’ll make a +run for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“That y’u, Denver?” the foreman called softly, as the sound of approaching +horses reached him. +</p> + +<p> +“Bet your life. Got your own broncs, too. Sheriff Burns called up Daniels not +to let any horses go out from his corral to anybody without his O.K. I happened +to be cinching at the time the ’phone message came, so I concluded that order +wasn’t for me, and lit out kinder unceremonious.” +</p> + +<p> +Hastily the fugitives donned the new costumes and dominos, turned their notes +over to Denver, and swung to their saddles. +</p> + +<p> +“Good luck!” the punchers called after them, and Denver added an ironical +promise that the foreman had no doubt he would keep. “I’ll look out for +Nora—Darling.” There was a drawling pause between the first and second +names. “I’ll ce’tainly see that she don’t have any time to worry about y’u, +Mac.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u go to Halifax,” returned Mac genially over his shoulder as he loped away. +</p> + +<p> +“I doubt if we can get out by the roads. Soon as we reach the end of the street +we better cut across that hayfield,” suggested Ned. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s whatever. Then we’ll slip past the sentries without being seen. I’d +hate to spoil any of them if we can help it. We’re liable to get ourselves +disliked if our guns spatter too much.” +</p> + +<p> +They rode through the main street, still noisy with the shouts of late revelers +returning to their quarters. Masked men were yet in evidence occasionally, so +that their habits caused neither remark nor suspicion. A good many of the +punchers, unable to stay longer, were slipping out of town after having made a +night of it. In the general exodus the two friends hoped to escape unobserved. +</p> + +<p> +They dropped into a side street, galloped down it for two hundred yards, and +dismounted at a barb-wire fence which ran parallel with the road. The foreman’s +wire-clippers severed the strands one by one, and they led their horses through +the gap. They crossed an alfalfa-field, jumped an irrigation ditch, used the +clippers again, and found themselves in a large pasture. It was getting lighter +every moment, and while they were still in the pasture a voice hailed them from +the road in an unmistakable command to halt. +</p> + +<p> +They bent low over the backs of their ponies and gave them the spur. The shot +they had expected rang out, passing harmlessly over them. Another followed, and +still another. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right. Shoot up the scenery. Y’u don’t hurt us none,” the foreman said, +apostrophizing the man behind the gun. +</p> + +<p> +The next clipped fence brought them to the open country. For half an hour they +rode swiftly without halt. Then McWilliams drew up. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are we making for?” +</p> + +<p> +“How about the Wind River country?” +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t do. First off, they’ll strike right down that way after us. What’s the +matter with running up Sweetwater Creek and lying out in the bad lands around +the Roubideaux?” +</p> + +<p> +“Good. I have a sheep-camp up that way. I can arrange to have grub sent there +for us by a man I can trust.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right. The Roubideaux goes.” +</p> + +<p> +While they were nooning at a cow-spring, Bannister, lying on his back, with his +face to the turquoise sky, became aware that a vagrant impulse had crystallized +to a fixed determination. He broached it at once to his companion. +</p> + +<p> +“One thing is a cinch, Mac. Neither y’u nor I will be safe in this country now +until we have broken up the gang of desperadoes that is terrorizing this +country. If we don’t get them they will get us. There isn’t any doubt about +that. I’m not willing to lie down before these miscreants. What do y’u say?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m with y’u, old man. But put a name to it. What are y’u proposing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m proposing that y’u and I make it our business not to have any other +business until we clean out this nest of wolves. Let’s go right after them, and +see if we can’t wipe out the Shoshone-Teton outfit.” +</p> + +<p> +“How? They own the law, don’t they?” +</p> + +<p> +“They don’t own the United States Government. When they held up a mail-train +they did a fool thing, for they bucked up against Uncle Sam. What I propose is +that we get hold of one of the gang and make him weaken. Then, after we have +got hold of some evidence that will convict, we’ll go out and run down my +namesake Ned Bannister. If people once get the idea that his hold isn’t so +strong there’s a hundred people that will testify against him. We’ll have him +in a Government prison inside of six months.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or else he’ll have us in a hole in the ground,” added the foreman, dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“One or the other,” admitted Bannister. “Are y’u in on this thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I surely am. Y’u’re the best man I’ve met up with in a month of Sundays, seh. +Y’u ain’t got but one fault; and that is y’u don’t smoke cigareets. Feed +yourself about a dozen a day and y’u won’t have a blamed trouble left. Match, +seh?” The foreman of the Lazy D, already following his own advice, rolled +deftly his smoke, moistened it and proceeded to blow away his troubles. +</p> + +<p> +Bannister looked at his debonair insouciance and laughed. “Water off a duck’s +back,” he quoted. “I know some folks that would be sweating fear right now. +It’s ce’tainly an aggravating situation, that of being an honest man hunted as +a villain by a villain. But I expaict my cousin’s enjoying it.” +</p> + +<p> +“He ain’t enjoying it so much as he would if his plans had worked out a little +smoother. He’s holding the sack right now and cussing right smaht over it being +empty, I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +“He <i>did</i> lock the stable door a little too late,” chuckled the sheepman. +But even as he spoke a shadow fell over his face. “My God! I had forgotten. Y’u +don’t suppose he would take it out of Miss Messiter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not unless he’s tired of living,” returned her foreman, darkly. “One thing, +this country won’t stand for is that. He’s got to keep his hands off women or +he loses out. He dassent lay a hand on them if they don’t want him to. That’s +the law of the plains, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the unwritten law for the bad man, but I notice it doesn’t seem to +satisfy y’u, my friend. Y’u and I know that my cousin, Ned Bannister, doesn’t +acknowledge any law, written or unwritten. He’s a devil and he has no fear. +Didn’t he kidnap her before?” +</p> + +<p> +“He surely would never dare touch those young ladies. But—I don’t know. +Bann, I guess we better roll along toward the Lazy D country, after all.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think so.” Ned looked at his friend with smiling drollery. “I thought y’u +smoked your troubles away, Jim. This one seems to worry y’u.” +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams grinned sheepishly. “There’s one trouble won’t be smoked away. It +kinder dwells.” Then, apparently apropos of nothing, he added, irrelevantly: +“Wonder what Denver’s doing right now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably keeping that appointment y’u ran away from,” bantered his friend. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll bet he is. Funny how some men have all the luck,” murmured the despondent +foreman. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI.<br/> +HUNTING BIG GAME</h2> + +<p> +In point of fact, Denver’s occupation at that moment was precisely what they +had guessed it to be. He was sitting beside Nora Darling in the grand stand, +explaining to her the fine points of “roping.” Mr. Bob Austin, commonly known +as “Texas,” was meanwhile trying to make himself agreeable to Helen Messiter. +Truth to tell, both young women listened with divided interest to their +admirers. Both of them had heard the story of the night, and each of them had +tucked away in her corsage a scribbled note she wanted to get back to her room +and read again. That the pursuit was still on everybody knew, and those on the +inside were aware that the “King,” masquerading under the name of Jack +Holloway, was the active power behind the sheriff stimulating the chase. +</p> + +<p> +It was after the roping had begun, and Austin had been called away to take his +turn, that the outlaw chief sauntered along the aisle of the grand stand to the +box in which was seated the mistress of the Lazy D. +</p> + +<p> +“Beautiful mo’ning, isn’t it? Delightfully crisp and clear,” he said by way of +introduction, stopping at her box. +</p> + +<p> +She understood the subtle jeer in his manner, and her fine courage rose to meet +it. There was a daring light in her eye, a buoyant challenge in her voice as +she answered: +</p> + +<p> +“It is a splendid morning. I’m not surprised you are enjoying it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did I say I was enjoying it?” He laughed as he lifted the bar, came into her +box and took a seat. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course not. How careless of me! I had forgotten you were in mourning for a +deceased friend.” +</p> + +<p> +His dark eyes flashed. “I’ll not mourn for him long. He was a mighty trifling +fellow, anyhow. Soon as I catch and hang his murderers I’ll quit wearing +black.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may wear out several suits before then,” she hit back. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t y’u believe it; when I want a thing I don’t quit till it’s done.” +</p> + +<p> +She met his gaze, and the impact of eyes seemed to shock her physically. The +wickedness in him threatened, gloated, dominated. She shivered in the warm +sunlight, and would not have had him know it for worlds. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me! How confident you talk. Aren’t you sometimes disappointed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Temporarily. But when I want a thing I take it in the end.” +</p> + +<p> +She knew he was serving notice on her that he meant to win her; and again the +little spinal shiver raced over her. She could not look at his sardonic, evil +face without fear, and she could not look away without being aware of his eyes +possessing her. What was the use of courage against such a creature as this? +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I understand you take a good deal that isn’t yours,” she retorted +carelessly, her eyes on the arena. +</p> + +<p> +“I make it mine when I take it,” he answered coolly, admiring the gameness +which she wore as a suit of chain armor against his thrusts. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it a little dangerous sometimes?” her even voice countered. “When you +take what belongs to others you run a risk, don’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s part of the rules. Except for that I shouldn’t like it so well. I hunt +big game, and the bigger the game the more risk. That’s why y’u guessed right +when y’u said I was enjoying the mo’ning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Meaning—your cousin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, no. I wasn’t thinking of him, though he’s some sizable. But I’m hunting +bigger game than he is, and I expect to bag it.” +</p> + +<p> +She let her scornful eyes drift slowly over him. “I might pretend to +misunderstand you. But I won’t. You may have your answer now. I am not afraid +of you, for since you are a bully you must be a coward. I saw a rattlesnake +last week in the hills. It reminded me of some one I have seen. I’ll leave you +to guess who.” +</p> + +<p> +Her answer drew blood. The black tide raced under the swarthy tan of his face. +He leaned forward till his beady eyes were close to her defiant ones. “Y’u have +forgotten one thing, Miss Messiter. A rattlesnake can sting. I ask nothing of +you. Can’t I break your heart without your loving me? You’re only a +woman—and not the first I have broken, by God—” +</p> + +<p> +His slim, lithe body was leaning forward so that it cut off others, and left +them to all intents alone. At a touch of her fingers the handbag in her lap +flew open and a little ivory-hilted revolver lay in her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“You may break me, but you’ll never bend me an inch.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at the little gun and laughed ironically. “Sho! If y’u should hit me +with that and I should find it out I might get mad at y’u.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did I say it was for you?” she said coldly; and again the shock of joined eyes +ended in drawn battle. +</p> + +<p> +“Have y’u the nerve?” He looked her over, so dainty and so resolute, so silken +strong; and he knew he had his answer. +</p> + +<p> +His smoldering eyes burned with desire to snatch her to him and ride away into +the hills. For he was a man who lived in his sensations. He had won many women +to their hurt, but it was the joy of conflict that made the pursuit worth while +to him; and this young woman, who could so delightfully bubble with little +laughs ready to spill over and was yet possessed of a spirit so finely superior +to the tenderness of her soft, round, maidenly curves, allured him mightily to +the attack. +</p> + +<p> +She dropped the revolver back into the bag and shut the clasp with a click, +“And now I think, Mr. Bannister, that I’ll not detain you any longer. We +understand each other sufficiently.” +</p> + +<p> +He rose with a laugh that mocked. “I expaict to spend quite a bit of time +understanding y’u one of these days. In the meantime this is to our better +acquaintance.” +</p> + +<p> +Deliberately, without the least haste, he stooped and kissed her before she +could rally from the staggering surprise of the intention she read in his eyes +too late to elude. Then, with the coolest bravado in the world, he turned on +his heel and strolled away. +</p> + +<p> +Angry sapphires gleamed at him from under the long, brown lashes. She was +furious, aghast, daunted. By the merest chance she was sitting in a corner of +the box, so screened from observation that none could see. But the insolence of +him, the reckless defiance of all standards of society, shook her even while it +enraged her. He had put forth his claim like a braggart, but he had made good +with an audacity superb in its effrontery. How she hated him! How she feared +him! The thoughts were woven inseparably in her mind. Mephisto himself could +not have impressed himself more imperatively than this strutting, heartless +master artist in vice. +</p> + +<p> +She saw him again presently down in the arena, for it was his turn to show his +skill at roping. Texas had done well; very well, indeed. He had made the throw +and tie in thirty-seven seconds, which was two seconds faster than the record +of the previous year. But she knew instinctively, as her fascinated eyes +watched the outlaw preparing for the feat, that he was going to win. He would +use his success as a weapon against her; as a means of showing her that he +always succeeded in whatever he undertook. So she interpreted he look he flung +her as he waited at the chute for the wild hill steer to be driven into the +arena. It takes a good man physically to make a successful roper. He must be +possessed of nerve, skill and endurance far out of the ordinary. He must be +quick-eyed, strong-handed, nimble of foot, expert of hand and built like a +wildcat. So Denver explained to the two young women in the box, and the one +behind him admitted reluctantly that she long, lean, supple Centaur waiting +impassively at the gateway fitted the specifications. +</p> + +<p> +Out flashed the rough-coated hill steer, wild and fleet as a hare, thin and +leggy, with muscles of whipcord. Down went the flag, and the stopwatches began +to tick off the seconds. Like an arrow the outlaw’s pony shot forward, a lariat +circling round and round the rider’s head. At every leap the cow pony lessened +the gap as it pounded forward on the heels of the flying steer. +</p> + +<p> +The loop swept forward and dropped over the horns of the animal. The pony, with +the perfect craft of long practice, swerved to one side with a rush. The +dragging rope swung up against the running steer’s legs, grew suddenly taut. +Down went the steer’s head, and next moment its feet were swept from under it +as it went heavily to the ground. Man and horse were perfect in their team +work. As the supple rider slid from the back of the pony it ran to the end of +the rope and braced itself to keep the animal from rising. Bannister leaped on +the steer, tie-rope in hand. Swiftly his deft hands passed to and fro, making +the necessary loops and knots. Then his hands went into the air. The steer was +hog-tied. +</p> + +<p> +For a few seconds the judges consulted together. “Twenty-nine seconds,” +announced their spokesman, and at the words a great cheer went up. Bannister +had made his tie in record time. +</p> + +<p> +Impudently the scoundrel sauntered up to the grand stand, bowed elaborately to +Miss Messiter, and perched himself on the fence, where he might be the observed +of all observers. It was curious, she thought, how his vanity walked hand in +hand with so much power and force. He was really extraordinarily strong, but no +debutante’s self-sufficiency could have excelled his. He was so frankly an +egotist that it ceased to be a weakness. +</p> + +<p> +Back in her room at the hotel an hour later Helen paced up and down under a +nervous strain foreign to her temperament. She was afraid; for the first time +in her life definitely afraid. This man pitted against her had deliberately +divorced his life from morality. In him lay no appeal to any conscience court +of last resort. But the terror of this was not for herself principally, but for +her flying lover. With his indubitable power, backed by the unpopularity of the +sheepman in this cattle country, the King of the Bighorn could destroy his +cousin if he set himself to do so. Of this she was convinced, and her +conviction carried a certainty that he had the will as well as the means. If he +had lacked anything in motive she herself had supplied one. For she was afraid +that this villain had read her heart. +</p> + +<p> +And as her hand went fluttering to her heart she found small comfort in the +paper lying next it that only a few hours before had brought her joy. For at +any moment a messenger might come in to tell her that the writer of it had been +captured and was to be dealt with summarily in frontier fashion. At best her +lover and her friend were but fugitives from justice. Against them were arrayed +not only the ruffian followers of their enemy, but also the lawfully +constituted authorities of the county. Even if they should escape to-day the +net would tighten on them, and they would eventually be captured. +</p> + +<p> +For the third time since coming to Wyoming Helen found refuge in tears. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII.<br/> +RUN TO EARTH</h2> + +<p> +When word came to Denver and the other punchers of the Lazy D that Reddy had +been pressed into service as a guide for the posse that was pursuing the +fugitives they gave vent to their feelings in choice profanity. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, ain’t that like him? Had to run around like a locoed calf telling all he +knowed and more till Burns ropes him in,” commented the disgusted Missou. +</p> + +<p> +“Trouble with Reddy is he sets his mouth to working and then goes away and +leaves it,” mourned Jim Henson. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d hate to feel as sore as Reddy will when the boys get through playing with +him after he gets back to the ranch,” Denver contributed, when he had exhausted +his vocabulary. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Reddy, unaware of being a cause of offense, was cheerfully happy in +the unexpected honor that had been thrust upon him. His will was of putty, +molded into the opinion of whomever he happened at the moment to be with. Just +now, with the ironic eye of Sheriff Burns upon him, he was strong for law +enforcement. +</p> + +<p> +“A feller hadn’t ought to be so promiscuous with his hardware. This here thing +of shooting up citizens don’t do Wyoming no good these days. Capital ain’t +a-going to come in when such goings-on occur,” he sagely opined, unconsciously +parroting the sentiment Burns had just been instilling into him. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right, sir. If that ain’t horse sense I don’t know any. You got a head +on you, all right,” answered the admiring sheriff. +</p> + +<p> +The flattered Reddy pleaded guilty to being wiser than most men. “Jest because +I punch cows ain’t any reason why I’m anybody’s fool. I’ll show them smart boys +at the Lazy D I don’t have to take the dust of any of the bunch when it comes +to using my think tank.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would,” sympathized Burns. “You bet they’ll all be almighty jealous when +they learn how you was chosen out of the whole outfit on this job.” +</p> + +<p> +All day they rode, and that night camped a few miles from the Lazy D. Early +next morning they hailed a solitary rider as he passed. The man turned out to +be a cowman, with a small ranch not far from the one owned by Miss Messiter. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Henderson! y’u seen anything of Jim McWilliams and another fellow +riding acrost this way?” asked Reddy. +</p> + +<p> +“Nope,” answered the cowman promptly. But immediately he modified his statement +to add that he had seen two men riding toward Dry Creek a couple of hours ago. +“They was going kinder slow. Looked to me sorter like one of them was hurt and +the other was helping him out,” he volunteered. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff looked significantly at one of his men and nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t recognize the horses, I reckon?” +</p> + +<p> +“Come to think of it, one of the ponies did look like Jim’s roan. What’s up, +boys? Anything doing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing particular. We want to see Jim, that’s all. So long.” +</p> + +<p> +What Henderson had guessed was the truth. The continuous hard riding had been +too much for Bannister and his wound had opened anew. They were at the time +only a few miles from a shack on Dry Creek, where the Lazy D punchers sometimes +put up. McWilliams had attended the wound as best he could, and after a few +hours’ rest had headed for the cabin in the hills. They were compelled to +travel very slowly, since the motion kept the sheepman’s wound continually +bleeding. But about noon they reached the refuge they had been seeking and +Bannister lay down on the bunk with their saddle blankets under him. He soon +fell asleep, and Mac took advantage of this to set out on a foraging expedition +to a ranch not far distant. Here he got some bread, bacon, milk and eggs from a +man he could trust and returned to his friend. +</p> + +<p> +It was dark by the time he reached the cabin. He dismounted, and with his arms +full of provisions pushed into the hut. +</p> + +<p> +“Awake, Bann?” he asked in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +The answer was unexpected. Something heavy struck his chest and flung him back +against the wall. Before he could recover his balance he was pinioned fast. +Four men had hurled themselves upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve got you, Jim. Not a mite o’ use resisting,” counseled the sheriff. +</p> + +<p> +“Think I don’t savez that? I can take a hint when a whole Methodist church +falls on me. Who are y’u, anyhow?” +</p> + +<p> +“Somebody light a lantern,” ordered Burns. +</p> + +<p> +By the dim light it cast Mac made them out, and saw Ned Bannister gagged and +handcuffed on the bed. He knew a moment of surprise when his eyes fell on +Reddy. +</p> + +<p> +“So it was y’u brought them here, Red?” he said quietly. +</p> + +<p> +Contrary to his own expectations, the gentleman named was embarrassed “The +sheriff, he summoned me to serve,” was his lame defense. +</p> + +<p> +“And so y’u threw down your friends. Good boy!” +</p> + +<p> +“A man’s got to back the law up, ain’t he?” +</p> + +<p> +Mac turned his shoulder on him rather pointedly. “There isn’t any need of +keeping that gag in my friend’s mouth any longer,” he suggested to Burns. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right, too. Take it out, boys. I got to do my duty, but I don’t aim to +make any gentleman more uncomfortable than I can help. I want everything to be +pleasant all round.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m right glad to hear that, Burns, because my friend isn’t fit to travel. Y’u +can take me back and leave him out here with a guard,” the foreman replied +quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry I can’t accommodate you, Jim, but I got to take y’u both with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Those are the orders of the King, are they?” +</p> + +<p> +Burns flushed darkly. “It ain’t going to do you any good to talk that way. You +know mighty well this here man with you is Bannister. I ain’t going to take no +chances on losing him now I’ve got my hand on him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u ce’tainly deserve a re-election, and I’ll bet y’u get it all right. Any +man so given over to duty, so plumb loaded down to the hocks with conscience as +y’u, will surely come back with a big majority next November.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t askin’ for <i>your</i> vote, Mac.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, y’u don’t need votes. Just get the King to O. K. your nomination and +y’u’ll win in a walk.” +</p> + +<p> +“My friend, y’u better mind your own business. Far as I can make out y’u got +troubles enough of your own,” retorted the nettled sheriff. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u don’t need to tell me that, Tom Burns’ Y’u ain’t a man—nothing but a +stuffed skin worked by a string. When that miscreant Bannister pulls the string +y’u jump. He’s jerked it now, so y’u’re taking us back to him. I can prove that +coyote Morgan shot at me first, but that doesn’t cut any ice with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What made you light out so sudden, then?” demanded the aggrieved Burns +triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I knew <i>you</i>. That’s a plenty good reason. I’m not asking +anything for myself. All I say is that my friend isn’t fit to travel yet. Let +him stay here under a guard till he is.” +</p> + +<p> +“He was fit enough to get here. By thunder, he’s fit to go back!” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’ve said enough, Mac,” broke in Bannister. “It’s awfully good of y’u to +speak for me, but I would rather see it out with you to a finish. I don’t want +any favors from this yellow dog of my cousin.” +</p> + +<p> +The “yellow dog” set his teeth and swore vindictively behind them. He was +already imagining an hour when these insolent prisoners of his would sing +another tune. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.<br/> +PLAYING FOR TIME</h2> + +<p> +“They’ve got ’em. Caught them on Dry Creek, just below Green Forks.” +</p> + +<p> +Helen Messiter, just finishing her breakfast at the hotel preparatory to +leaving in her machine for the ranch, laid down her knife and fork and looked +with dilated eyes at Denver, who had broken in with the news. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sure?” The color had washed from her face and left her very white, but +she fronted the situation quietly without hysterics or fuss of any kind. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am. They’re bringing them in now to jail. Watch out and y’u’ll see +them pass here in a few minutes. Seems that Bannister’s wound opened up on him +and he couldn’t go any farther. Course Mac wouldn’t leave him. Sheriff Burns +and his posse dropped in on them and had them covered before Mac could chirp.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are sure this man—this desperado Bannister—will do nothing +till night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not the way I figure it. He’ll have the jail watched all day. But he’s got to +work the town up to a lynching. I expect the bars will be free for all to-day. +By night the worst part of this town will be ready for anything. The rest of +the citizens are going to sit down and do nothing just because it is +Bannister.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it isn’t Bannister—not the Bannister they think it is.” +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. “No use, ma’am. I’ve talked till my throat aches, but it +don’t do a mite of good. Nobody believes a word of what I say. Y’u see, we +ain’t got any proof.” +</p> + +<p> +“Proof! We have enough, God knows! didn’t this villain—this outlaw that +calls himself Jack Holloway—attack and try to murder him?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what we believe, but the report out is that one of us punchers shot him +up for crossing the dead-line.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t this fellow hold up the ranch and try to take Ned Bannister away with +him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am. But that doesn’t look good to most people. They say he had his +friends come to take him away so y’u wouldn’t hold him and let us boys get him. +This cousin business is a fairy tale the way they size it up. How come this +cousin to let him go if he held up the ranch to put the sick man out of +business? No, miss. This country has made up its mind that your friend is the +original Ned Bannister. My opinion is that nothing on earth can save him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want your opinion. I’m going to save him, I tell you; and you are +going to help. Are his friends nothing but a bunch of quitters?” she cried, +with sparkling eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know I was such a great friend of his,” answered the cowboy sulkily. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a friend of Jim McWilliams, aren’t you? Are you going to sneak away and +let these curs hang him?” +</p> + +<p> +Denver flushed. “Y’u’re dead right, Miss Helen. I guess I’ll see it out with +you. What’s the orders?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to help me organize a defense. Get all Mac’s friends stirred up to +make a fight for him. Bring as many of them in to see me during the day as you +can. If you see any of the rest of the Lazy D boys send them in to me for +instructions. Report yourself every hour to me. And make sure that at least +three of your friends that you can trust are hanging round the jail all day so +as to be ready in case any attempt is made to storm it before dark.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll see to it.” Denver hung on his heel a moment before leaving. “It’s only +square to tell y’u, Miss Helen, that this means war here tonight. These streets +are going to run with blood if we try to save them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m taking that responsibility,” she told him curtly; but a moment later she +added gently: “I have a plan, my friend, that may stop this outrage yet. But +you must do your best for me.” She smiled sadly at him. “You’re my foreman, +to-day, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to do my level best, y’u may tie to that,” he told her earnestly. +</p> + +<p> +“I know you will.” And their fingers touched for an instant. +</p> + +<p> +Through a window the girl could see a crowd pouring down the street toward the +hotel. She flew up the stairs and out upon the second-story piazza that looked +down upon the road. +</p> + +<p> +From her point of vantage she easily picked them out—the two unarmed men +riding with their hands tied behind their backs, encircled by a dozen riders +armed to the teeth. Bannister’s hat had apparently fallen off farther down the +street, for the man beside him was dusting it. The wounded prisoner looked +about him without fear, but it was plain he was near the limit of endurance. He +was pale as a sheet, and his fair curls clung moistly to his damp forehead. +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams caught sight of her first, and she could see him turn and say a word +to his comrade. Bannister looked up, caught sight of her, and smiled. That +smile, so pale and wan, went to her heart like a knife. But the message of her +eyes was hope. They told the prisoners silently to be of good cheer, that at +least they were not deserted to their fate. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it about—the crowd?” Nora asked of her mistress as the latter +was returning to the head of the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +In as few words as she could Helen told her, repressing sharply the tears the +girl began to shed. “This is not the time to weep—not yet. We must save +them. You can do your part. Mr. Bannister is wounded. Get a doctor over the +telephone and see that he attends him at the prison. Don’t leave the ’phone +until you have got one to promise to go immediately.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, miss. Is there anything else?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ask the doctor to call you up from the prison and tell you how Mr. Bannister +is. Make it plain to him that he is to give up his other practice, if +necessary, and is to keep us informed through the day about his patient’s +condition. I will be responsible for his bill.” +</p> + +<p> +Helen herself hurried to the telegraph office at the depot. She wrote out a +long dispatch and handed it to the operator. “Send this at once please.” +</p> + +<p> +He was one of those supercilious young idiots that make the most of such small +power as ever drifts down to them. Taking the message, he tossed it on the +table. “I’ll send it when I get time.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll send it now.” +</p> + +<p> +“What—what’s that?” +</p> + +<p> +Her steady eyes caught and held his shifting ones. “I say you are going to send +it now—this very minute.” +</p> + +<p> +“I guess not. The line’s busy,” he bluffed. +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t begin sending that message this minute I’ll make it my business +to see that you lose your position,” she told him calmly. +</p> + +<p> +He snatched up the paper from the place where he had tossed it. “Oh, well, if +it’s so darned important,” he conceded ungraciously. +</p> + +<p> +She stood quietly above him while he sent the telegram, even though he +contrived to make every moment of her stay an unvoiced insult. Her wire was to +the wife of the Governor of the State. They had been close friends at school, +and the latter had been urging Helen to pay a visit to Cheyenne. The message +she sent was as follows: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Battle imminent between outlaws and cattlemen here. Bloodshed certain to-night. +My foreman last night killed in self-defense a desperado. Bannister’s gang, in +league with town authorities, mean to lynch him and one of my other friends +after dark this evening. Sheriff will do nothing. Can your husband send +soldiers immediately? Wire answer. +</p> + +<p> +The operator looked up sullenly after his fingers had finished the last tap. +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just one thing more,” Helen told him. “You understand the rules of the company +about secrecy. Nobody but you knows I am sending this message. If by any chance +it should leak out, I shall know through whom. If you want to hold your +position, you will keep quiet.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know my business,” he growled. Nevertheless, she had spoken in season, for +he had had it in his mind to give a tip where he knew it would be understood to +hasten the jail delivery and accompanying lynching. +</p> + +<p> +When she returned to the hotel, Helen found Missou waiting for her. She +immediately sent him back to the office, and told him to wait there until the +answer was received. “I’ll send one of the boys up to relieve you so that you +may come with the telegram as soon as it arrives. I want the operator watched +all day. Oh, here’s Jim Henson! Denver has explained the situation to you, I +presume. I want you to go up to the telegraph office and stay there all day. Go +to lunch with the operator when he goes. Don’t let him talk privately to +anybody, not even for a few seconds. I don’t want you to seem to have him under +guard before outsiders, but let him know it very plainly. He is not to mention +a wire I sent or the answer to it—not to anybody, Jim. Is that plain?” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u bet! He’s a clam, all right, till the order is countermanded.” And the +young man departed with a cheerful grin that assured Helen she had nothing to +fear from official leaks. +</p> + +<p> +Nora, from answering a telephone call, came to report to the general in charge. +“The doctor says that he has looked after Mr. Bannister, and there is no +immediate danger. If he keeps quiet for a few days he ought to do well. Mr. +McWilliams sent a message by him to say that we aren’t to worry about him. He +said he would—would—rope a heap of cows on the Lazy D yet.” +</p> + +<p> +Nora, bursting into tears, flung herself into Helen’s arms. “They are going to +kill him. I know they are, and—and ’twas only yesterday, ma’am, I told +him not to—to get gay, the poor boy. When he tried to—to—” +She broke down and sobbed. +</p> + +<p> +Her mistress smiled in spite of herself, though she was bitterly aware that +even Nora’s grief was only superficially ludicrous. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re going to save him, Nora, if we can. There’s hope while there’s life. You +see, Mac himself is full of courage. <i>He</i> hasn’t given up. We must keep up +our courage, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am, but this is the first gentleman friend I ever had hanged, +and—” She broke off, sobbing, leaving the rest as a guess. +</p> + +<p> +Helen filled it out aloud. “And you were going to say that you care more for +him than any of the others. Well, you must stop coquetting and tell him so when +we have saved him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am,” agreed Nora, very repentant for the moment of the fact that it +was her nature to play with the hearts of those of the male persuasion. +Immediately she added: “He was <i>that</i> kind, ma’am, tender-hearted.” +</p> + +<p> +Helen, whose own heart was breaking, continued to soothe her. “Don’t say +<i>was</i>, child. You are to be brave, and not think of him that way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am. He told me he was going to buy cows with the thousand dollars he +won yesterday. I knew he meant—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, of course. It’s a cowboy’s way of saying that he means to start +housekeeping. Have you the telegram, Missou?” For that young man was standing +in the doorway. +</p> + +<p> +He handed her the yellow slip. She ripped open the envelope and read: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Company B en route. Railroad connections uncertain. Postpone crisis long as +possible. May reach Gimlet Butte by ten-thirty. +</p> + +<p> +Her first thought was of unspeakable relief. The militia was going to take a +hand. The boys in khaki would come marching down the street, and everything +would be all right. But hard on the heels of her instinctive gladness trod the +sober second thought. Ten-thirty at best, and perhaps later! Would they wait +that long, or would they do their cowardly work as soon as night fell. She must +contrive to delay them till the train drew in. She must play for those two +lives with all her woman’s wit; must match the outlaw’s sinister cunning and +fool him into delay. She knew he would come if she sent for him. But how long +could she keep him? As long as he was amused at her agony, as long as his +pleasure in tormenting her was greater than his impatience to be at his +ruffianly work. Oh, if she ever needed all her power it would be to-night. +</p> + +<p> +Throughout the day she continued to receive hourly reports from Denver, who +always brought with him four or five honest cowpunchers from up-country to +listen to the strange tale she unfolded to them. It was, of course, in part, +the spell of her sweet personality, of that shy appeal she made to the manhood +in them; but of those who came, nearly all believed, for the time at least, and +aligned themselves on her side in the struggle that was impending. Some of +these were swayed from their allegiance in the course of the day, but a few she +knew would remain true. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, all through the day, the enemy was busily at work. As Denver had +predicted, free liquor was served to all who would drink. The town and its +guests were started on a grand debauch that was to end in violence that might +shock their sober intelligence. Everywhere poisoned whispers were being flung +broadcast against the two men waiting in the jail for what the night would +bring forth. +</p> + +<p> +Dusk fell on a town crazed by bad whiskey and evil report. The deeds of +Bannister were hashed and rehashed at every bar, and nobody related them with +more ironic gusto than the man who called himself Jack Holloway. There were +people in town who knew his real name and character, but of these the majority +were either in alliance with him or dared not voice their knowledge. Only Miss +Messiter and her punchers told the truth, and their words were blown away like +chaff. +</p> + +<p> +From the first moment of darkness Helen had the outlaw leader dogged by two of +her men. Since neither of these were her own riders this was done without +suspicion. At intervals of every quarter of an hour they reported to her in +turn. Bannister was beginning to drink heavily, and she did not want to cut +short his dissipation by a single minute. Yet she had to make sure of getting +his attention before he went too far. +</p> + +<p> +It was close to nine when she sent him a note, not daring to delay a minute +longer. For the reports of her men were all to the same effect, that the crisis +would not now be long postponed. Bannister, or Holloway, as he chose to call +himself, was at the bar with his lieutenants in evil when the note reached him. +He read it with a satisfaction he could not conceal. So! He had brought her +already to her knees. Before he was through with her she should grovel in the +dust before him. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Do nothing till I return,” he ordered, and went +jingling away to the Elk House. +</p> + +<p> +The young woman’s anxiety was pitiable, but she repressed it sternly when she +went to meet the man she feared; and never had it been more in evidence than in +this hour of her greatest torture. Blithely she came forward to meet him, eye +challenging eye gayly. No hint of her anguish escaped into her manner. He read +there only coquetry, the eternal sex conflict, the winsome defiance of a woman +hitherto the virgin mistress of all assaults upon her heart’s citadel. It was +the last thing he had expected to see, but it was infinitely more piquant, more +intoxicating, than desperation. She seemed to give the lie to his impression of +her love for his cousin; and that, too, delighted his pride. +</p> + +<p> +“You will sit down?” +</p> + +<p> +Carelessly, almost indolently, she put the question, her raised eyebrows +indicating a chair with perfunctory hospitality. He had not meant to sit, had +expected only to gloat a few minutes over her despair; but this situation +called for more deliberation. He had yet to establish the mastery his vanity +demanded. Therefore he took a chair. +</p> + +<p> +“This is ce’tainly an unexpected honor. Did y’u send for me to explain some +more about that sufficient understanding between us?” he sneered. +</p> + +<p> +It was a great relief to her to see that, though he had been drinking, as she +had heard, he was entirely master of himself. Her efforts might still be +directed to Philip sober. +</p> + +<p> +“I sent for you to congratulate you,” she answered, with a smile. “You are a +bigger man than I thought. You have done what you said you would do, and I +presume you can very shortly go out of mourning.” +</p> + +<p> +He radiated vanity, seemed to visibly expand “Do y’u go in when I go out?” he +asked brutally. +</p> + +<p> +She laughed lightly. “Hardly. But it does seem as if I’m unlucky in my foremen. +They all seem to have engagements across the divide.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll get y u another.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you. I was going to ask as much of you. Can you suggest one now?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m a right good cattle man myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“And—can you stay with me a reasonable time?” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed. “I have no engagements across the Styx, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“My other foremen thought <i>they</i> were permanent fixtures here, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re all liable to mistakes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Even you, I suppose.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll sign a lease to give y’u possession of my skill for as long as y’u like.” +</p> + +<p> +She settled herself comfortably back in an easy chair, as alluring a picture of +buoyant, radiant youth as he had seen in many a day. “But the terms. I am +afraid I can’t offer you as much as you make at your present occupation.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could keep that up as a side-line.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you could. But if you use my time for your own profit, you ought to pay me +a royalty on your intake.” +</p> + +<p> +His eyes lit with laughter. “I reckon that can be arranged. Any percentage you +think fair It will all be in the family, anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think that is one of the things about which we don’t agree,” she made answer +softly, flashing him the proper look of inviting disdain from under her silken +lashes. +</p> + +<p> +He leaned forward, elbow on the chair-arm and chin in hand. “We’ll agree about +it one of these days.” +</p> + +<p> +“Think so?” she returned airily. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think. I know.” +</p> + +<p> +Just an eyebeat her gaze met his, with that hint of shy questioning, of puzzled +doubt that showed a growing interest. “I wonder,” she murmured, and recovered +herself with a hurried little laugh. +</p> + +<p> +How she hated her task, and him! She was a singularly honest woman, but she +must play the siren; must allure this scoundrel to forgetfulness, and yet elude +the very familiarity her manner invited. She knew her part, the heartless +enticing coquette, compounded half of passion and half of selfishness. It was a +hateful thing to do, this sacrifice of her personal reticence, of the +individual abstraction in which she wrapped herself as a cloak, in order to +hint at a possibility of some intimacy of feeling between them. She shrank from +it with a repugnance hardly to be overcome, but she held herself with an iron +will and consummate art to the role she had undertaken. Two lives hung on her +success. She must not forget that. She would not let herself forget +that—and one of them that of the man she loved. +</p> + +<p> +So, bravely she played her part, repelling always with a hint of invitation, +denying with the promise in her fascinated eyes of ultimate surrender to his +ardor. In the zest of the pursuit the minutes slipped away unnoticed. Never had +a woman seemed to him more subtly elusive, and never had he felt more sure of +himself. Her charm grew on him, stirred his pulses to a faster beat. For it was +his favorite sport, and this warm, supple young creature, who was to be the +victim of his bow and arrow, showed herself worthy of his mettle. +</p> + +<p> +The clock downstairs struck the half-hour, and Bannister, reminded of what lay +before him outside, made a move to go. Her alert eyes had been expecting it, +and she forestalled him by a change of tactics. Moved apparently by impulse, +she seated herself on the piano-stool, swept the keys for an instant with her +fingers, and plunged into the brilliant “Carmen” overture. Susceptible as this +man was to the influence of music, he could not fail to be arrested by so +perfect an interpretation of his mood. He stood rooted, was carried back again +in imagination to a great artiste’s rendering of that story of fierce passion +and aching desire so brilliantly enacted under the white sunbeat of a country +of cloudless skies. Imperceptibly she drifted into other parts of the opera. +Was it the wild, gypsy seductiveness of <i>Carmen</i> that he felt, or, rather, +this American girl’s allurement? From “Love will like a birdling fly” she +slipped into the exquisitely graceful snatches of song with which <i>Carmen</i> +answers the officer’s questions. Their rare buoyancy marched with his mood, and +from them she carried him into the song “Over the hill,” that is so perfect and +romantic an expression of the <i>wanderlust.</i> +</p> + +<p> +How long she could have held him she will never know, for at that inopportune +time came blundering one of his men into the room with a call for his presence +to take charge of the situation outside. +</p> + +<p> +“What do y’u want, Bostwick?” he demanded, with curt peremptoriness. +</p> + +<p> +The man whispered in his ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t wait any longer, can’t they?” snapped his chief. “Y’u tell them they’ll +wait till I give the word. Understand?” +</p> + +<p> +He almost flung the man out of the room, but Helen noticed that she had lost +him. His interest was perfunctory, and, though he remained a little time +longer, it was to establish his authority with the men rather than to listen to +her. Twice he looked at his watch within five minutes. +</p> + +<p> +He rose to go. “There is a little piece of business I have to put through. So +I’ll have to ask y’u to excuse me. I have had a delightful hour, and I hate to +go.” He smiled, and quoted with mock sentimentality: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“The hours I spent with thee, dear heart,<br/> + Are as a string of pearls to me;<br/> +I count them over, every one apart,<br/> + My rosary! My rosary!” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me! One certainly lives and learns. How could I have guessed that, with +your reputation, you could afford to indulge in a rosary?” she mocked. +</p> + +<p> +“Good night.” He offered his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t go yet,” she coaxed. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. “Duty, y’u know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stay only a little longer. Just ten minutes more.” +</p> + +<p> +His vanity purred, so softly she stroked it. “Can’t. Wish I could. Y’u hear how +noisy things are getting. I’ve got to take charge. So-long.” +</p> + +<p> +She stood close, looking up at him with a face of seductive appeal. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t go yet. Please!” +</p> + +<p> +The triumph of victory mounted to his head. “I’ll come back when I’ve done what +I’ve got to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no. Stay a little longer just a little.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a minute, sweetheart.” +</p> + +<p> +He bent to kiss her, and a little clenched fist struck his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you dare!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +The outraged woman in her, curbed all evening with an iron bit, escaped from +control. Delightedly he laughed. The hot spirit in her pleased him mightily. He +took her little hands and held them in one of his while he smiled down at her. +“I guess that kiss will keep, my girl, till I come back.” +</p> + +<p> +“My God! Are you going to kill your own cousin?” +</p> + +<p> +All her terror, all her detestation and hatred of him, looked haggardly out of +her unmasked face. His narrowed eyes searched her heart, and his countenance +grew every second more sinister, +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u have been fooling me all evening, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and hating you every minute of the time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u dared?” His face was black with rage. +</p> + +<p> +“You would like to kill me. Why don’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I know a better revenge. I’m going out to take it now. After your +lover is dead, I’ll come back and make love to y’u again,” he sneered. +</p> + +<p> +“Never!” She stood before him like a queen in her lissom, brave, defiant youth. +“And as for your cousin, you may kill him, but you can’t destroy his contempt +for you. He will die despising you for a coward and a scoundrel.” +</p> + +<p> +It was true, and he knew it. In his heart he cursed her, while he vainly sought +some weapon that would strike home through her impervious armor. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u love him. I’ll remember that when I see him kick,” he taunted. +</p> + +<p> +“I make you a present of the information. I love him, and I despise you. +Nothing can change those facts,” she retorted whitely. +</p> + +<p> +“Mebbe, but some day y’u’ll crawl on your knees to beg my pardon for having +told me so.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is your overweening vanity again,” she commented. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to break y’u, my beauty, so that y’u’ll come running when I snap my +fingers.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll see.” +</p> + +<p> +“And in the meantime I’ll go hang your lover.” He bowed ironically, swung on +his jingling heel, and strode out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +She stood there listening to his dying footfalls, then covered her face with +her hands, as if to press back the dreadful vision her mind conjured. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX.<br/> +WEST POINT TO THE RESCUE</h2> + +<p> +It was understood that the sheriff should make a perfunctory defense against +the mob in order to “square” him with the voters at the election soon to be +held. But the word had been quietly passed that the bullets of the prison +guards would be fired over the heads of the attackers. This assurance lent an +added braggadocio to the Dutch courage of the lynchers. Many of them who would +otherwise have hung back distinguished themselves by the enthusiasm which they +displayed. +</p> + +<p> +Bannister himself generaled the affair, detailing squads to batter down the +outer door, to guard every side of the prison, and to overpower the sheriff’s +guard. That official, according to programme, appeared at a window and made a +little speech, declaring his intention of performing his duty at whatever cost. +He was hooted down with jeers and laughter, and immediately the attack +commenced. +</p> + +<p> +The yells of the attackers mingled with the sound of the axe-blows and the +report of revolvers from inside the building. Among those nearest to the door +being battered down were Denver and the few men he had with him. His plan +offered merely a forlorn hope. It was that in the first scramble to get in +after the way was opened he and his friends might push up the stairs in the +van, and hold the corridor for as long as they could against the furious mob. +</p> + +<p> +It took less than a quarter of an hour to batter down the door, and among the +first of those who sprang across the threshold were Denver, Missou, Frisco and +their allies. While others stopped to overpower the struggling deputies +according to the arranged farce, they hurried upstairs and discovered the cell +in which their friends were fastened. +</p> + +<p> +Frisco passed a revolver through the grating to McWilliams, and another to +Bannister. “Haven’t got the keys, so I can’t let y’u out, old hoss,” he told +the foreman. “But mebbe y’u won’t feel so lonesome with these little toys to +play with.” +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Denver, a young giant of seventy-six inches, held the head of the +stairs, with four stalwart plainsmen back of him. The rush of many feet came up +pell-mell, and he flung the leaders back on those behind. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold on there. This isn’t a free-lunch counter. Don’t you see we’re crowded up +here already?” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s eating you? Whyfor, can’t we come?” growled one of the foremost nursing +an injured nose. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve just explained to you, son, that it’s crowded. Folks are prevalent enough +up here right now. Send up that bunch of keys and we’ll bring your meat to you +fast enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that? What’s that?” The outlaw chief pushed his way through the dense +mob at the door and reached the stairway. +</p> + +<p> +“He won’t let us up,” growled one of them. +</p> + +<p> +“Who won’t?” demanded Bannister sharply, and at once came leaping up the +stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing doing,” drawled Frisco, and tossed him over the railing on to the +heads of his followers below. +</p> + +<p> +They carried Bannister into the open air, for his head had struck the +newel-post in his descent. This gave the defense a few minutes respite. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re going to come a-shooting next time,” remarked Denver. “Just as soon as +he comes back from bye-low land you’ll see things hum.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u bet,” agreed Missou. “We’ll last about three minutes when the stampede +begins.” +</p> + +<p> +The scream of an engine pierced the night. +</p> + +<p> +Denver’s face lit. “Make it five minutes, Missou, and Mac is safe. At least, +I’m hoping so awful hard. Miss Helen wired for the militia from Sheridan this +mo’ning. Chances are they’re on that train. I couldn’t tell you earlier because +she made me promise not to. She was afraid it might leak out and get things +started sooner.” +</p> + +<p> +Weak but furious, the miscreant from the Shoshones returned to the attack. +“Break in the back door and sneak up behind on those fellows. We’ll have the +men we want inside of fifteen minutes,” he promised the mob. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll rush them from both sides, and show those guys on the landing whether +they can stop us,” added Bostwick. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly some one raised the cry, “The soldiers!” Bannister looked up the +street and swore a vicious oath. Swinging down the road at double time came a +company of militia in khaki. He was mad with baffled fury, but he made good his +retreat at once and disappeared promptly into the nearest dark alley. +</p> + +<p> +The mob scattered by universal impulse; disintegrated so promptly that within +five minutes the soldiers held the ground alone, save for the officials of the +prison and Denver’s little band. +</p> + +<p> +A boyish lieutenant lately out of the Point, and just come in to a lieutenancy +in the militia, was in command. “In time?” he asked anxiously, for this was his +first independent expedition. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u bet,” chuckled Denver. “We’re right glad to see you, and I’ll bet those +boys in the cage ain’t regretting your arrival any. Fifteen minutes later and +you would have been in time to hold the funeral services, I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Miss Messiter?” asked the young officer. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s at the Elk House, colonel. I expect some of us better drift over there +and tell her it’s all right. She’s the gamest little woman that ever crossed +the Wyoming line. Hadn’t been for her these boys would have been across the +divide hours ago. She’s a plumb thoroughbred. Wouldn’t give up an inch. All day +she has generaled this thing; played a mighty weak hand for a heap more than it +was worth. Sand? Seh: she’s grit clear through, if anybody asks you.” And +Denver told the story of the day, making much of her unflinching courage and +nothing of her men’s readiness to back whatever steps she decided upon. +</p> + +<p> +It was ten minutes past eleven when a smooth young, apple-cheeked lad in khaki +presented himself before Helen Messiter with a bow never invented outside of +West Point. +</p> + +<p> +“I am Lieutenant Beecher. Governor Raleigh presents his compliments by me, Miss +Messiter, and is very glad to be able to put at your service such forces as are +needed to quiet the town.” +</p> + +<p> +“You were in time?” she breathed. +</p> + +<p> +“With about five minutes to spare. I am having the prisoners brought here for +the night if you do not object. In the morning I shall investigate the affair, +and take such steps as are necessary. In the meantime you may rest assured that +there will be no further disturbance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you I am sure that with you in command everything will now be all right, +and I am quite of your opinion that the prisoners had better stay here for the +night. One of them is wounded, and ought to be given the best attention. But, +of course, you will see to that, lieutenant.” +</p> + +<p> +The young man blushed. This was the right kind of appreciation. He wished his +old classmates at the Point could hear how implicitly this sweet girl relied on +him. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. And now, Miss Messiter, if there is nothing you wish, I shall +retire for the night. You may sleep with perfect confidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure I may, lieutenant.” She gave him a broadside of trusting eyes full +of admiration. “But perhaps you would like me to see my foreman first, just to +relieve my mind. And, as you were about to say, his friend might be brought in, +too, since they are together.” +</p> + +<p> +The young man promptly assented, though he had not been aware that he was about +to say anything of the kind. +</p> + +<p> +They came in together, Bannister supported by McWilliams’s arm. The eyes of +both mistress and maid brimmed over with tears when they saw them. Helen +dragged forward a chair for the sheepman, and he sank into it. From its depths +he looked up with his rare, sweet smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve heard about it,” he told her, in a low voice. “I’ve heard how y’u fought +for my life all day. There’s nothing I can say. I owed y’u everything already +twice, and now I owe it all over again. Give me a lifetime and I couldn’t get +even.” +</p> + +<p> +Helen’s swift glance swept over Nora and the foreman. They were in a dark +alcove, oblivious of anybody else. Also they were in each other’s arms frankly. +For some reason wine flowed into the cream of Helen’s cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you have to ‘get even’? Among friends is that necessary?” she asked shyly. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope not. If it is, I’m sure bankrupt. Even my thanks seem to stay at home. +If y’u hadn’t done so much for me, perhaps I could tell y’u how much y’u had +done. But I have no words to say it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then don’t,” she advised. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’re the best friend a man ever had. That’s all I can say.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s enough, since you mean it, even though it isn’t true,” she answered +gently. +</p> + +<p> +Their eyes met, fastened for an instant, and by common consent looked away. +</p> + +<p> +As it chanced they were close to the window, their shadows reflected on the +blind. A man, slipping past in the street on horseback, stopped at sight of +that lighted window, with the moving shadows, in an uncontrollable white fury. +He slid from the saddle, threw the reins over the horse’s head to the ground, +and slipped his revolver from its holster and back to make sure that he could +draw it easily. Then he passed springily across the road to the hotel and up +the stairs. He trod lightly, stealthily, and by his very wariness defeated his +purpose of eluding observation. For a pair of keen eyes from the hotel office +glimpsed the figure stealing past so noiselessly, and promptly followed up the +stairway. +</p> + +<p> +“Hope I don’t intrude at this happy family gathering.” +</p> + +<p> +Helen, who had been pouring a glass of cordial for the spent and wounded +sheepman, put the glass down on the table and turned at sound of the silken, +sinister voice. After one glance at the vindictive face, from the cold eyes of +which hate seemed to smolder, she took an instinctive step toward her lover. +The cold wave that drenched her heart accompanied an assurance that the man in +the doorway meant trouble. +</p> + +<p> +His sleek smile arrested her. He was standing with his feet apart, his hands +clasped lightly behind his back, as natty and as well groomed as was his wont. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Ah, make the most of what ye yet may spend,<br/> +Before ye, too, into the Dust descend;<br/> + Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,<br/> +Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and—sans End!” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +he misquoted, with a sneer; and immediately interrupted his irony to give way +to one of his sudden blind rages. +</p> + +<p> +With incredible swiftness his right hand moved forward and up, catching +revolver from scabbard as it rose. But by a fraction of a second his purpose +had been anticipated. A closed fist shot forward to the salient jaw in time to +fling the bullets into the ceiling. An arm encircled the outlaw’s neck, and +flung him backward down the stairs. The railing broke his fall, and on it his +body slid downward, the weapon falling from his hand. He pulled himself +together at the foot of the stairs, crouched for an upward rush, but changed +his mind instantly. The young officer who had flung him down had him covered +with his own six-shooter. He could hear footsteps running toward him, and he +knew that in a few seconds he would be in the hands of the soldiers. Plunging +out of the doorway, the desperado vaulted to the saddle and drove his spurs +home. For a minute hoofs pounded on the hard, white road. Then the night +swallowed him and the echo of his disappearance. +</p> + +<p> +“That was Bannister of the Shoshones and the Tetons,” the girl’s white lips +pronounced to Lieutenant Beecher. +</p> + +<p> +“And I let him get away from me,” the disappointed lad groaned. “Why, I had him +right in my hands. I could have throttled him as easy. But how was I to know he +would have nerve enough to come rushing into a hotel full of soldiers hunting +him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u have a very persistent cousin, Mr. Bannister,” said McWilliams, coming +forward from the alcove with shining eyes. “And I must say he’s game. Did y’u +ever hear the like? Come butting in here as cool as if he hadn’t a thing to do +but sing out orders like he was in his own home. He was that easy.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to me that a little of the praise is due Lieutenant Beecher. If he +hadn’t dealt so competently with the situation murder would have been done. Did +you learn your boxing at the Academy, Lieutenant?” Helen asked, trying to treat +the situation lightly in spite of her hammering heart. +</p> + +<p> +“I was the champion middleweight of our class,” Beecher could not help saying +boyishly, with another of his blushes. +</p> + +<p> +“I can easily believe it,” returned Helen. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish y’u would teach me how to double up a man so prompt and immediate,” +said the admiring foreman. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect I’m under particular obligations to that straight right to the chin, +Lieutenant,” chimed in the sheepman. “The fact is that I don’t seem to be able +to get out anything except thanks these days. I ought to send my cousin a +letter thanking <i>him</i> for giving me a chance to owe so much kindness to so +many people.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your cousin?” repeated the uncomprehending officer. +</p> + +<p> +“This desperado, Bannister, is my cousin,” answered the sheepman gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“But if he was your cousin, why should he want—to kill you?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a long story, Lieutenant. Will y’u hear it now?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you feel strong enough to tell it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’m strong enough.” He glanced at Helen. “Perhaps we had better not tire +Miss Messiter with it. If y’u’ll come to my room—” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like, above all things, to hear it again,” interrupted that young +woman promptly. +</p> + +<p> +For the man she loved had just come back to her from the brink of the grave and +she was still reluctant to let him out of her sight. +</p> + +<p> +So Ned Bannister told his story once more, and out of the alcove came the happy +foreman and Nora to listen to the tale. While he told it his sweetheart’s +contented eyes were on him. The excitement of the night burnt pleasantly in her +veins, for out of the nettle danger she had plucked safety for her sheepman. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX.<br/> +TWO CASES OF DISCIPLINE</h2> + +<p> +The Fourth of July celebration at Gimlet Butte had been a thing of the past for +four days and the Lazy D had fallen back into the routine of ranch life. The +riders were discussing supper and the continued absence of Reddy when that +young man drew back the flap and joined them. +</p> + +<p> +He stood near the doorway and grinned with embarrassed guilt at the assembled +company. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon I got too much Fourth of July at Gimlet Butte, boys. That’s how come +I to be onpunctual getting back.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a long silence, during which those at the table looked at him with an +expressionless gravity that did not seem to veil an unduly warm welcome. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Mac! Hello, boys! I just got back,” he further contributed. +</p> + +<p> +Without comment the Lazy D resumed supper. Apparently it had not missed Reddy +or noticed his return. Casual conversation was picked up cheerfully. The return +of the prodigal was quite ignored. +</p> + +<p> +“Then that blamed cow gits its back up and makes a bee-line for Rogers. The old +man hikes for his pony and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Seems good to git my legs under the old table again,” interrupted Reddy with +cheerful unease. +</p> + +<p> +“—loses by about half a second,” continued Missou. “If Doc hadn’t roped +its hind laig—” +</p> + +<p> +“Have some cigars, boys. I brought a box back with me.” Reddy tossed a handful +on the table, where they continued to lie unnoticed. +</p> + +<p> +“—there’s no telling what would have happened. As ’twas the old man got +off with a—” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u bet, they’re good cigars all right,” broke in the propitiatory Reddy. +</p> + +<p> +The interrupted anecdote went on to a finish and the men trooped out and left +the prodigal alone with his hash. When that young man reached the bunkhouse +Frisco was indulging in a reminiscence. Reddy got only the last of it, but that +did not contribute to his serenity. +</p> + +<p> +“Yep! When I was working on the Silver Dollar. Must a-been three years ago, I +reckon, when Jerry Miller got that chapping.” +</p> + +<p> +“Threw down the outfit in a row they had with the Lafferty crowd, didn’t he?” +asked Denver. +</p> + +<p> +Frisco nodded. +</p> + +<p> +Mac got up, glanced round, and reached for his hat. “I reckon I’ll have to be +going,” he said, and forthright departed. +</p> + +<p> +Reddy reached for <i>his</i> hat and rose. “I got to go and have a talk with +Mac,” he explained. +</p> + +<p> +Denver got to the door first and his big frame filled it. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t hurry, Reddy. It ain’t polite to rush away right after dinner. Besides, +Mac will be here all day. He ain’t starting for New York.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’re gittin’ blamed particular. Mac he went right out.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Mac didn’t have a most particular engagement with the boys. There’s a +difference.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I ain’t got—” Reddy paused and looked around helplessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Gents, I move y’u that it be the horse sense of the Lazy D that our friend Mr. +Reddy Reeves be given gratis one chapping immediately if not sooner. The reason +for which same being that he played a lowdown trick on the outfit whose bread +he was eating.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quit your foolin’, boys,” besought the victim anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“And that Denver, being some able-bodied and having a good reach, be requested +to deliver same to the gent needing it,” concluded Missou. +</p> + +<p> +Reddy backed in alarm to the wall. “Y’u boys don’t want to get gay with me. Y’u +can’t monkey with—” +</p> + +<p> +Motion carried unanimously. +</p> + +<p> +Just as Reddy whipped out his revolver Denver’s long leg shot out and his foot +caught the wrist behind the weapon. When Reddy next took cognizance of his +surroundings he was serving as a mattress for the anatomy of three stalwart +riders. He was gently deposited face down on his bunk with a +one-hundred-eighty-pound live peg at the end of each arm and leg. +</p> + +<p> +“All ready, Denver,” announced Frisco from the end of the left foot. +</p> + +<p> +Denver selected a pair of plain leather chaps with care and proceeded to +business. What he had to do he did with energy. It is safe to say that at least +one of those present can still vividly remember this and testify to his +thoroughness. +</p> + +<p> +Mac drifted in after the disciplining. As foreman it was fitting that he should +be discreetly ignorant of what had occurred, but he could not help saying: +</p> + +<p> +“That y’u I heard singing, Reddy? Seems to me y’u had ought to take that voice +into grand opera. The way y’u straddle them high notes is a caution for fair. +What was it y’u was singing? Sounded like ‘Would I were far from here, love.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u go to hell,” choked Reddy, rushing past him from the bunkhouse. +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams looked round innocently. “I judge some of y’u boys must a-been +teasing Reddy from his manner. Seemed like he didn’t want to sit down and +talk.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t wonder but he’ll hold his conversations standing for a day or +two,” returned Missou gravely. +</p> + +<p> +At the end of the laugh that greeted this Mac replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, y’u boys want to be gentle with him.” “He’s so plumb tender now that I +reckon he’ll get along without any more treatment in that line from us,” +drawled Frisco. +</p> + +<p> +Mac departed laughing. He had an engagement that recurred daily in the dusk of +the evening, and he was always careful to be on time. The other party to the +engagement met him at the kitchen door and fell with him into the trail that +led to Lee Ming’s laundry. +</p> + +<p> +“What made you late?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not late, honey. I seem late because you’re so anxious,” he explained. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not,” protested Nora indignantly. “If you think you’re the only man on the +place, Jim McWilliams.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sho! Hold your hawsses a minute, Nora, darling. A spinster like y’u—” +</p> + +<p> +“You think you’re awful funny—writing in my autograph album that a +spinster’s best friend is her powder box. I like Mr. Halliday’s ways better. +He’s a perfect gentleman.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t got a word to say against Denver, even if he did write in your book, +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“‘Sugar is sweet,<br/> + The sky is blue,<br/> +Grass is green<br/> + And so are you.’ +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +I reckon, being a perfect gentleman, he meant—” +</p> + +<p> +“You know very well you wrote that in yourself and pretended it was Mr. +Halliday, signing his name and everything. It wasn’t a bit nice of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now do I look like a forger?” he wanted to know with innocence on his cherubic +face. +</p> + +<p> +“Anyway you know it was mean. Mr. Halliday wouldn’t do such a thing. You take +your arm down and keep it where it belongs, Mr. McWilliams.” +</p> + +<p> +“That ain’t my name, Nora, darling, and I’d like to know where my arm belongs +if it isn’t round the prettiest girl in Wyoming. What’s the use of being +engaged if—” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not sure I’m going to stay engaged to you,” announced the young woman +coolly, walking at the opposite edge of the path from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Now that ain’t any way to talk.” +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t lecture me. I’m not your wife and I don’t think I’m going to be,” +cut in Nora, whose temper was ruffled on account of having had to wait for him +as well as for other reasons. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u surely wouldn’t make me sue y’u for breach of promise, would y’u?” he +demanded, with a burlesque of anxiety that was the final straw. +</p> + +<p> +Nora turned on her heel and headed for the house. +</p> + +<p> +“Now don’t y’u get mad at me, honey. I was only joking,” he explained as he +pursued her. +</p> + +<p> +“You think you can laugh at me all you please. I’ll show you that you can’t,” +she informed him icily. +</p> + +<p> +“Sho! I wasn’t laughing at y’u. What tickled me—” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not interested in your amusement, Mr. McWilliams.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the use of flying out about a little thing like that? Honest, I don’t +even know what you’re mad at me for,” the perplexed foreman averred. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not mad at you, as you call it. I’m simply disgusted.” +</p> + +<p> +And with a final “Good night” flung haughtily over her shoulder Miss Nora +Darling disappeared into the house. +</p> + +<p> +Mac took off his hat and gazed at the door that had been closed in his face. He +scratched his puzzled poll in vain. +</p> + +<p> +“I ce’tainly got mine good and straight just like Reddy got his. But what in +time was it all about? And me thinkin’ I was a graduate in the study of the +ladies. I reckon I never did get jarred up so. It’s plumb discouraging.” +</p> + +<p> +If he could have caught a glimpse of Nora at that moment, lying on her bed and +crying as if her heart would break, Mac might have found the situation less +hopeless. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>CHAPTER XXI.<br/> +THE SIGNAL LIGHTS</h2> + +<p> +In a little hill-rift about a mile back of the Lazy D Ranch was a deserted +miner’s cabin. +</p> + +<p> +The hut sat on the edge of a bluff that commanded a view of the buildings +below, while at the same time the pines that surrounded it screened the shack +from any casual observation. A thin curl of smoke was rising from the mud +chimney, and inside the cabin two men lounged before the open fire. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s his move, and he is going to make it soon. Every night I look for him to +drop down on the ranch. His hate’s kind of volcanic, Mr. Ned Bannister’s is, +and it’s bound to bubble over mighty sudden one of these days,” said the +younger of the two, rising and stretching himself. +</p> + +<p> +“It did bubble over some when he drove two thousand of my sheep over the bluff +and killed the whole outfit,” suggested the namesake of the man mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I reckon that’s some irritating,” agreed McWilliams. “But if I know him, +he isn’t going to be content with sheep so long as he can take it out of a real +live man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or woman,” suggested the sheepman. +</p> + +<p> +“Or woman,” agreed the other. “Especially when he thinks he can cut y’u deeper +by striking at her. If he doesn’t raid the Lazy D one of these nights, I’m a +blamed poor prophet.” +</p> + +<p> +Bannister nodded agreement. “He’s near the end of his rope. He could see that +if he were blind. When we captured Bostwick and they got a confession out of +him, that started the landslide against him. It began to be noised abroad that +the government was going to wipe him out. Folks began to lose their terror of +him, and after that his whole outfit began to want to turn State’s evidence. He +isn’t sure of one of them now; can’t tell when he will be shot in the back by +one of his own scoundrels for that two thousand dollars reward.” +</p> + +<p> +The foreman strolled negligently to the door. His eyes drifted indolently down +into the valley, and immediately sparkled with excitement. +</p> + +<p> +“The signal’s out, Bann,” he exclaimed. “It’s in your window.” +</p> + +<p> +The sheepman leaped to his feet and strode to the door. Down in the valley a +light was gleaming in a window. Even while he looked another light appeared in +a second window. +</p> + +<p> +“She wants us both,” cried the foreman, running to the little corral back of +the house. +</p> + +<p> +He presently reappeared with two horses, both saddled, and they took the +downward trail at once. +</p> + +<p> +“If Miss Helen can keep him in play till we arrive,” murmured Mac anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“She can if he gives her a chance, and I think he will. There’s a kind of cat +instinct in him to play with his prey.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but he missed his kill last time by letting her fool him. That’s what I’m +afraid of’ that he won’t wait.” +</p> + +<p> +They had reached lower ground now, and could put their ponies at a pounding +gallop that ate up the trail fast. As they approached the houses, both men drew +rein and looked carefully to their weapons. Then they slid from the saddles and +slipped noiselessly forward. +</p> + +<p> +What the foreman had said was exactly true. Helen Messiter did want them both, +and she wanted them very much indeed. +</p> + +<p> +After supper she had been dreamily playing over to herself one of Chopin’s +waltzes, when she became aware, by some instinct, that she was not alone in the +room. There had been no least sound, no slightest stir to betray an alien +presence. Yet that some one was in the room she knew, and by some subtle sixth +sense could even put a name to the intruder. +</p> + +<p> +Without turning she called over her shoulder: “Shall I finish the waltz?” No +faintest tremor in the clear, sweet voice betrayed the racing heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’re a cool hand, my friend,” came his ready answer. “But I think we’ll +dispense with the music. I had enough last time to serve me for twice.” +</p> + +<p> +She laughed as she swung on the stool, with that musical scorn which both +allured and maddened. “I did rather do you that time,” she allowed. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the return match. You won then. I win now,” he told her, with a look +that chilled. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! But isn’t that rather discounting the future?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only the immediate future. Y’u’re mine, my beauty, and I mean to take y’u with +me.” +</p> + +<p> +Just a disdainful sweep of her eyes she gave him as she rose from the +piano-stool and rearranged the lamps. “You mean so much that never comes to +pass, Mr. Bannister. The road to the nether regions is paved with good +intentions, we are given to understand. Not that yours can by any stretch of +imagination be called ‘good intentions.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Contrariwise, then, perhaps the road to heaven may be paved with evil +intentions. Since y’u travel the road with me, wherever it may lead, it were +but gallant to hope so.” +</p> + +<p> +He took three sharp steps toward her and stood looking down in her face, her +sweet slenderness so close to him that the perfume mounted to his brain. Surely +no maiden had ever been more desirable than this one, who held him in such +contemptuous estimation that only her steady eyes moved at his approach. These +held to his and defied him, while she stood leaning motionless against the +table with such strong and supple grace. She knew what he meant to do, hated +him for it, and would not give him the satisfaction of flying an inch from him +or struggling with him. +</p> + +<p> +“Your eyes are pools of splendor. That’s right. Make them flash fire. I love to +see such spirit, since it offers a more enticing pleasure in breaking,” he told +her, with an admiration half ironic but wholly genuine. “Pools of splendor, my +beauty! Therefore I salute them.” +</p> + +<p> +At the touch of his lips upon her eyelids a shiver ran through her, but still +she made no movement, was cold to him as marble. “You coward!” she said softly, +with an infinite contempt. +</p> + +<p> +“Your lips,” he continued to catalogue, “are ripe as fresh flesh of Southern +fruit. No cupid ever possessed so adorable a mouth. A worshiper of Eros I, as +now I prove.” +</p> + +<p> +This time it was the mouth he kissed, the while her unconquered spirit looked +out of the brave eyes, and fain would have murdered him. In turn he kissed her +cold cheeks, the tip of one of her little ears, the small, clenched fist with +which she longed to strike him. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you quite through?” +</p> + +<p> +“For the present, and now, having put the seal of my ownership on her more +obvious charms, I’ll take my bride home.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would die first.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, you’ll die later, Madam Bannister, but not for many years, I hope,” he +told her, with a theatrical bow. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think me so weak a thing as your words imply?” +</p> + +<p> +“Rather so strong that the glory of overcoming y’u fills me with joy. Believe +me, madam, though your master I am not less your slave,” he mocked. +</p> + +<p> +“You are neither my master nor my slave, but a thing I detest,” she said, in a +low voice that carried extraordinary intensity. +</p> + +<p> +“And obey,” he added, suavely. “Come, madam, to horse, for our honeymoon.” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you I shall not go.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, in faith, we’ll re-enact a modern edition of ‘The Taming of the Shrew.’ +Y’u’ll find me, sweet, as apt at the part as old <i>Petruchio</i>.” He paced +complacently up the room and back, and quoted glibly: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“And thus I’ll curb her mad and headstrong humor.<br/> +He that knows better how to tame a shrew,<br/> +Now let him, speak; ’tis charity to show.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you take me against my will?” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u have said it. What’s your will to me? What I want I take. And I sure want +my beautiful shrew.” His half-shuttered eyes gloated on her as he rattled off a +couple more lines from the play he had mentioned. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Kate, like the hazel-twig,<br/> +Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue<br/> +As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.” +</p> + +<p> +She let a swift glance travel anxiously to the door. “You are in a very +poetical mood to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“As befits a bridegroom, my own.” He stepped lightly to the window and tapped +twice on the pane. “A signal to bring the horses round. If y’u have any +preparations to make, any trousseau to prepare, y’u better set that girl of +yours to work.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no preparations to make.” +</p> + +<p> +“Coming to me simply as y’u are? Good! We’ll lead the simple life.” +</p> + +<p> +Nora, as it chanced, knocked and entered at his moment. The sight of her vivid +good looks struck him for the first time. At sight of him she stopped, gazing +with parted lips, a double row of pearls shining through. +</p> + +<p> +He turned swiftly to the mistress. “Y’u ought not to be alone there among so +many men. It wouldn’t be proper. We’ll take the girl along with us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” Nora’s parted lips emitted. +</p> + +<p> +“To Arden, my dear.” He interrupted himself to look at his watch. “I wonder why +that fellow doesn’t come with the horses. They should pass this window.” +</p> + +<p> +Bannister, standing jauntily with his feet astride as he looked out of the +window, heard someone enter the room. “Did y’u bring round the horses?” he +snapped, without looking round. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>No, we allowed they wouldn’t be needed</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +At sound of the slow drawl the outlaw wheeled like a flash, his hand traveling +to the hilt of the revolver that hung on his hip. But he was too late. Already +two revolvers covered him, and he knew that both his cousin and McWilliams were +dead shots. He flashed one venomous look at the mistress of the ranch. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u fooled me again. That lamp business was a signal, and I was too +thick-haided to see it. My compliments to y’u, Miss Messiter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u are under arrest,” announced his cousin. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u don’t say.” His voice was full of sarcastic admiration. “And you done it +with your little gun! My, what a wonder y’u are!” +</p> + +<p> +“Take your hand from the butt of that gun. Y’u better relieve him of it, Mac. +He’s got such a restless disposition he might commit suicide by reaching for +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do y’u think you’re going to do with me now y’u have got me, Cousin Ned?” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re going to turn y’u over to the United States Government.” +</p> + +<p> +“Guess again. I have a thing, or two to say to that.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re going to Gimlet Butte with us, alive or dead.” +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw intentionally misunderstood. “If I’ve got to take y’u, then we’ll +say y’u go dead rather than alive.” +</p> + +<p> +“He was going to take Nora and me with him,” Helen explained to her friends. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly the man swung round on her. “But now I’ve changed my mind, ma’am. I’m +going to take my cousin with me instead of y’u ladies.” +</p> + +<p> +Helen caught his meaning first, and flashed it whitely to her lover. It dawned +on him more slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“I see y’u remember, Miss Messiter,” he continued, with a cruel, silken laugh. +“He gave me his parole to go with me whenever I said the word. I’m saying it +now.” He sat down astride a chair, put his chin on the back cross-bar, and +grinned malevolently from one to another. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s come over this happy family? It don’t look so joyous all of a sudden. +Y’u don’t need to worry, ma’am, I’ll send him back to y’u all right—alive +or dead. With his shield or on it, y’u know. Ha! ha!” +</p> + +<p> +“You will not go with him?” It was wrung from Helen as a low cry, and struck +her lover’s heart. +</p> + +<p> +“I must,” he answered. “I gave him my word, y’u remember.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why keep it? You know what he is, how absolutely devoid of honor.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is not quite the question, is it?” he smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“Would he keep his word to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not if a lie would do as well. But that isn’t the point, either.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s quixotic—foolish—worse than that—ridiculous,” she +implored. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps, but the fact remains that I am pledged.” +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“‘I could not love thee, dear, so much<br/> +Loved I not honor more,’” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +murmured the villain in the chair, apparently to the ceiling. “Dear Ned, he +always was the soul of honor. I’ll have those lines carved on his tombstone.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see! He is already bragging that he means to kill you,” said the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall go armed,” the sheepman answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but he will take you into the mountain fastnesses, where the men that +serve him will do his bidding. What is one man among so many?” +</p> + +<p> +“Two men, ma’am,” corrected the foreman. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” The outlaw broke off the snatch of opera he was singing to slew +his head round at McWilliams. +</p> + +<p> +“I said two. Any objections, seh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. That wasn’t in the contract.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re giving y’u surplusage, that’s all. Y’u wanted one of us, and y’u get +two. We don’t charge anything for the extra weight,” grinned Mac. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Mac, will you go with him?” cried Helen, with shining eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Those are my present intentions, Miss Helen,” laughed her foreman. +</p> + +<p> +Whereat Nora emerged from the background and flung herself on him. “Y’u can’t +go, Jim! I won’t have you go!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +The young man blushed a beautiful pink, and accepted gladly this overt evidence +of a reconciliation. “It’s all right, honey. Don’t y’u think two big, grown-up +men are good to handle that scalawag? Sho! Don’t y’u worry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Nora can come, too, if she likes,” suggested he of the Shoshones. “Looks +like we would have quite a party. Won’t y’u join us, too, Miss Messiter, +according to the original plan?” he said, extending an ironical invitation. +</p> + +<p> +“I think we had better cut it down to me alone. We’ll not burden your +hospitality, sir,” said the sheepman. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir, I’m in on this. Whyfor can’t I go?” demanded Jim. +</p> + +<p> +Bannister, the outlaw, eyed him unpleasantly. “Y’u certainly can so far as I am +concerned. I owe y’u one, too, Mr. McWilliams. Only if y’u come of your own +free will, as y’u are surely welcome to do, don’t holler if y’u’re not so +welcome to leave whenever y’u take a notion.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll try and look out for that. It’s settled, then, that we ride together. +When do y’u want to start?” +</p> + +<p> +“We can’t go any sooner than right now. I hate to take these young men from +y’u, lady, but, as I said, I’ll send them back in good shape. <i>Adios, +señorita</i>. Don’t forget to whom y’u belong.” He swaggered to the door and +turned, leaning against the jamb with one hand again it. “I expect y’u can say +those lovey-dov good-byes without my help. I’m going into the yard. If y’u want +to y’u can plug me in the back through the window,” he suggested, with a sneer. +</p> + +<p> +“As y’u would us under similar circumstances,” retorted his cousin. +</p> + +<p> +“Be with y’u in five minutes,” said the foreman. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t hurry. It’s a long good-bye y’u’re saying,” returned his enemy placidly. +</p> + +<p> +Nora and the young man who belonged to her followed him from the room, leaving +Bannister and his hostess alone. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I ever see you again?” Helen murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“I think so,” the sheepman answered. “The truth is that this opportunity falls +pat. Jim and have been wanting to meet those men who are under my cousin’s +influence and have a talk with them. There is no question but that the gang is +disintegrating, and I believe that if we offer to mediate between its members +and the Government something might be done to stop the outrages that have been +terrorizing this country. My cousin can’t be reached, but I believe the rest of +them, or, at least a part, can be induced either to surrender or to flee the +country. Anyhow, we want to try it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the danger?” she breathed. +</p> + +<p> +“Is less than y’u think. Their leader has not anywhere nearly the absolute +power he had a few months ago. They would hardly dare do violence to a peace +envoy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your cousin would. I don’t believe he has any scruples.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall keep an eye on him. Both of us will not sleep at the same time. Y’u +may depend on me to bring your foreman safely back to y’u,” he smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my foreman!” +</p> + +<p> +“And your foreman’s friend,” he added. “I have the best of reasons for wanting +to return alive. I think y’u know them. They have to do with y’u, Miss Helen.” +</p> + +<p> +It had come at last, but, womanlike, she evaded the issue her heart had sought. +“Yes, I know. You think it would not be fair to throw away your life in this +foolish manner after I have saved it for you—how many times was it you +said?” The blue eyes lifted with deceptive frankness to the gray ones. +</p> + +<p> +“No, that isn’t my reason. I have a better one than that. I love y’u, girl, +more than anything in this world.” +</p> + +<p> +“And so you try to prove it to me by running into a trap set for you to take +your life. That’s a selfish kind of love, isn’t it? Or it would be if I loved +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Do</i> y’u love me, Helen?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I tell you, since you don’t love me enough to give up this quixotic +madness?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t y’u see, dear, I <i>can’t</i> give it up?” +</p> + +<p> +“I see you won’t. You care more for your pride than for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, it isn’t that. I’ve <i>got</i> to go. It isn’t that I want to leave y’u, +God knows. But I’ve given my word, and I must keep it. Do y’u want me to be a +quitter, and y’u so game yourself? Do y’u want it to go all over this cattle +country that I gave my word and took it back because I lost my nerve?” +</p> + +<p> +“The boy that takes a dare isn’t a hero, is he! There’s a higher courage that +refuses to be drawn into such foolishness, that doesn’t give way to the jeers +of the empty headed.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think that is a parallel case. I’m sorry, we can’t see this alike, but +I’ve got to go ahead the way that seems to me right.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re going to leave me, then, to go with that man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, if that’s the way y’u have to put it.” He looked at her sorrowfully, and +added gently: “I thought you would see it. I thought sure you would.” +</p> + +<p> +But she could not bear that he should leave her so, and she cried out after +him. “Oh, I see it. I know you must go; but I can’t bear it.” Her head buried +itself in his coat. “It isn’t right—it isn’t a—a square deal that +you should go away now, the very minute you belong to me.” +</p> + +<p> +A happy smile shone in his eyes. “I belong to you, do I? That’s good hearing, +girl o’ mine.” His arm went round her and he stroked the black head softly. +“I’ll not be gone long, dear. Don’t y’u worry about me. I’ll be back with y’u +soon; just as soon as I have finished this piece of work I have to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if you should get—if anything should happen to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing is going to happen to me. There is a special providence looks after +lovers, y’u know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Be careful, Ned, of yourself. For my sake, dear.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll dry my socks every time I get my feet wet for fear of taking cold,” he +laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“But you will, won’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll be very careful, Helen,” he promised more gravely. +</p> + +<p> +Even then she could hardly let him go, clinging to him with a reluctance to +separate that was a new experience to her independent, vigorous youth. In the +end he unloosened her arm, kissed her once, and hurried out of the room. In the +hallway he met McWilliams, also hurryin out from a tearful farewell on the part +of Nora. +</p> + +<p> +Bannister, the outlaw, already mounted, was waiting for them. “Y’u <i>did</i> +get through at last,” he drawled insolently. “Well, if y’u’ll kindly give +orders to your seven-foot dwarf to point the Winchester another way I’ll +collect my men an we’ll be moving.” +</p> + +<p> +For, though the outlaw had left his men in command of the ranch when he went +into the house, he found the situation reversed on his return. With the arrival +of reinforcements, in the persons of McWilliams and his friend, it had been the +turn of the raiders to turn over their weapons. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, Denver,” nodded the foreman. +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw chief whistled for his men, and with their guests they rode into the +silent, desert night. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>CHAPTER XXII.<br/> +EXIT THE “KING”</h2> + +<p> +They bedded that night under the great vault-roof where twinkle a million +stars. +</p> + +<p> +There were three of the outlaw’s men with him, and both Mcwilliams and his +friend noticed that they slept a little apart from their chief. There were +other indications among the rustlers of a camp divided against itself. +Bannister’s orders to them he contrived to make an insult, and their obedience +was as surly as possible compatible with safety. For all of the men knew that +he would not hesitate to shoot them down in one of his violent rages should +they anger him sufficiently. +</p> + +<p> +Throughout the night there was no time that at least two men were not awake in +the camp. The foreman and the sheepman took turns keeping vigil; and on the +other side of the fire sat one of the rustlers in silent watchfulness. To the +man opposite him each of the sentinels were outposts of the enemy, but they +fraternized after the manner of army sentries, exchanging tobacco and +occasional casual conversation. +</p> + +<p> +The foreman took the first turn, and opposite him sat a one-eyed old scoundrel +who had rustled calves from big outfits ever since Wyoming was a territory and +long before. Chalkeye Dave, he was called, and sometimes merely Chalkeye. What +his real name was no man knew. Nor was his past a subject for conversation in +his presence. It was known that he had been in the Nevada penitentiary, and +that he had killed a man in Arizona, but these details of an active life were +rarely resurrected. For Chalkeye was deadly on the shoot, and was ready for it +at the drop of the hat, though he had his good points too. One of these was a +remarkable fondness for another member of the party, a mere lad, called by his +companions Hughie. Generally surly and morose, to such a degree that even his +chief was careful to humor him as a rule, when with Hughie all the softer +elements of his character came to the surface. In his rough way he was ever +humorous and genial. +</p> + +<p> +Jim McWilliams found him neither, however. He declined to engage in +conversation, accepted a proffer of tobacco with a silent, hostile grunt and +relapsed into a long silence that lasted till his shift was ended. +</p> + +<p> +“Hate to have y’u leave, old man. Y’u’re so darned good company I’ll ce’tainly +pine for you,” the foreman suggested, with sarcasm, when the old man rolled up +in his blankets preparatory to falling asleep immediately. +</p> + +<p> +Chalkeye’s successor was a blatant youth much impressed with his own +importance. He was both foul-mouthed and foul-minded, so that Jim was +constrained to interrupt his evil boastings by pretending to fall asleep. +</p> + +<p> +It was nearly two o’clock when the foreman aroused his friend to take his turn. +Shortly after this the lad Hughie relieved the bragging, would-be bad man. +</p> + +<p> +Hughie was a flaxen-haired, rather good-looking boy of nineteen. In his small, +wistful face was not a line of wickedness, though it was plain that he was +weak. He seemed so unfit for the life he was leading that the sheepman’s +interest was aroused. For on the frontier it takes a strong, competent +miscreant to be a bad man and survive. Ineffectives and weaklings are quickly +weeded out to their graves or the penitentiaries. +</p> + +<p> +The boy was manifestly under great fear of his chief, but the curly haired +young Hermes who kept watch with him had a very winning smile and a charming +manner when he cared to exert it. Almost in spite of himself the youngster was +led to talk. It seemed that he had but lately joined the Teton-Shoshones outfit +of desperadoes, and between the lines Bannister easily read that his cousin’s +masterful compulsion had coerced the young fellow. All he wanted was an +opportunity to withdraw in safety, but he knew he could never do this so long +as the “King” was alive and at liberty. +</p> + +<p> +Under the star-roof in the chill, breaking day Ned Bannister talked to him long +and gently. It was easy to bring the boy to tears, but it was harder thing to +stiffen a will that was of putty and to hearten a soul in mortal fear. But he +set himself with all the power in him to combat the influence of his cousin +over this boy; and before the camp stirred to life again he knew that he had +measurably succeeded. +</p> + +<p> +They ate breakfast in the gray dawn under the stars, and after they had +finished their coffee and bacon horses were saddled and the trail taken up +again. It led in and out among the foot-hills sloping upward gradually toward +the first long blue line of the Shoshones that stretched before them in the +distance. Their nooning was at a running stream called Smith’s Creek, and by +nightfall the party was well up in the higher foot hills. +</p> + +<p> +In the course of the day and the second night both the sheepman and his friend +made attempt to establish a more cordial relationship with Chalkeye, but so far +as any apparent results went their efforts were vain. He refused grimly to meet +their overtures half way, even though it was plain from his manner that a break +between him and his chief could not long be avoided. +</p> + +<p> +All day by crooked trails they pushed forward, and as the party advanced into +the mountains the gloom of the mournful pines and frowning peaks invaded its +spirits. Suspicion and distrust went with it, camped at night by the rushing +mountain stream, lay down to sleep in the shadows at every man’s shoulder. For +each man looked with an ominous eye on his neighbor, watchful of every sudden +move, of every careless word that might convey a sudden meaning. +</p> + +<p> +Along a narrow rock-rim trail far above a steep cañon, whose walls shot +precipitously down, they were riding in single file, when the outlaw chief +pushed his horse forward between the road wall and his cousin’s bronco. The +sheepman immediately fell back. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon this trail isn’t wide enough for two—unless y’u take the +outside,” he explained quietly. +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw, who had been drinking steadily ever since leaving the Lazy D, +laughed his low, sinister cackle. “Afraid of me, are y’u? Afraid I’ll push y’u +off?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not when I’m inside and you don’t have chance.” +</p> + +<p> +“’Twas a place about like this I drove four thousand of your sheep over last +week. With sheep worth what they are I’m afraid it must have cost y’u quite a +bit. Not that y’u’ll miss it where you are going,” he hastened to add. +</p> + +<p> +“It was very like you to revenge yourself on dumb animals.” +</p> + +<p> +“Think so?” The “King’s” black gaze rested on him. “Y’u’ll sing a different +song soon Mr. Bannister. It’s humans I’ll drive next time and don’t y’u forget +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you get the chance,” amended his cousin gently. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll get the chance. I’m not worrying about that. And about those +sheep—any man that hasn’t got more sense than to run sheep in a cow +country ought to lose them for his pig-headedness. +</p> + +<p> +“Those sheep were on the right side of the dead-line. You had to cross it to +reach them.” Their owner’s steady eyes challenged a denial. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that so? Now how do y’u know that? We didn’t leave the herder alive to +explain that to y’u, did we?” +</p> + +<p> +“You admit murdering him?” +</p> + +<p> +“To y’u, dear cousin. Y’u see, I have a hunch that maybe y’u’ll go join your +herder right soon. Y’u’ll not do much talking.” +</p> + +<p> +The sheepman fell back. “I think I’ll ride alone.” +</p> + +<p> +Rage flared in the other’s eye. “Too good for me, are y’u, my mealy-mouthed +cousin? Y’u always thought yourself better than me. When y’u were a boy you +used to go sneaking to that old hypocrite, your grandfather—” +</p> + +<p> +“You have said enough,” interrupted the other sternly. “I’ll not hear another +word. Keep your foul tongue off him.” +</p> + +<p> +Their eyes silently measured strength. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u’ll not hear a word!” sneered the chief of the rustlers. “What will y’u do, +dear cousin? +</p> + +<p> +“Stand up and fight like a man and settle this thing once for all.” +</p> + +<p> +Still their steely eyes crossed as with the thrust of rapiers. The challenged +man crouched tensely with a mighty longing for the test, but he had planned a +more elaborate revenge and a surer one than this. Reluctantly he shook his +head. +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I? Y’u’re mine. We’re four to two, and soon we’ll be a dozen to +two. I’d like a heap to oblige y’u, but I reckon I can’t afford to just now. +Y’u will have to wait a little for that bumping off that’s coming to y’u.” +</p> + +<p> +“In that event I’ll trouble you not to inflict your society on me any more than +is necessary.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right, too. If y’u think I enjoy your conversation y’u have got +another guess coming.” +</p> + +<p> +So by mutual consent the sheepman fell in behind the blatant youth who had +wearied McWilliams so and rode in silence. +</p> + +<p> +It was again getting close to nightfall. The slant sun was throwing its rays on +less and less of the trail. They could see the shadows grow and the coolness of +night sift into the air. They were pushing on to pass the rim of a great valley +basin that lay like a saucer in the mountains in order that they might camp in +the valley by a stream all of them knew. Dusk was beginning to fall when they +at last reached the saucer edge and only the opposite peaks were still tipped +with the sun rays. This, too, disappeared before they had descended far, and +the gloom of the great mountains that girt the valley was on all their spirits, +even McWilliams being affected by it. +</p> + +<p> +They were tired with travel, and the long night watches did not improve tempers +already overstrained with the expectation of a crisis too long dragged out. +Rain fell during the night, and continued gently in a misty drizzle after day +broke. It was a situation and an atmosphere ripe for tragedy, and it fell on +them like a clap of thunder out of a sodden sky. +</p> + +<p> +Hughie was cook for the day, and he came chill and stiff-fingered to his task. +Summer as it was, there lay a thin coating of ice round the edges of the +stream, for they had camped in an altitude of about nine thousand feet. The +“King” had wakened in a vile humor. He had a splitting headache, as was natural +under the circumstances and he had not left in his bottle a single drink to +tide him over it. He came cursing to the struggling fire, which was making only +fitful headway against the rain which beat down upon it. +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t y’u build your fire on the side of the tree?” he growled at Hughie. +</p> + +<p> +Now, Hughie was a tenderfoot, and in his knowledge of outdoor life he was still +an infant. “I didn’t know—” he was beginning, when his master cut him +short with a furious tongue lashing out of all proportion to the offense. +</p> + +<p> +The lad’s face blanched with fear, and his terror was so manifest that the +bully, who was threatening him with all manner of evils, began to enjoy +himself. Chalkeye, returning from watering the horses, got back in time to hear +the intemperate fag-end of the scolding. He glanced at Hughie, whose hands were +trembling in spite of him, and then darkly at the brute who was attacking him. +But he said not a word. +</p> + +<p> +The meal proceeded in silence except for jeers and taunts of the “King.” For +nobody cared to venture conversation which might prove a match to a powder +magazine. Whatever thoughts might be each man kept them to himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Coffee,” snapped the single talker, toward end of breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +Hughie jumped up, filled the cup that was handed him and set the coffee pot +back on fire. As he handed the tin cup with the coffee to the outlaw the lad’s +foot slipped on a piece wet wood, and the hot liquid splashed over his chief’s +leg. The man jumped to his feet in a rage and struck the boy across the face +with his whip once, and then again. +</p> + +<p> +“By God, that’ll do for you!” cried Chalkeye from the other side of the fire, +springing revolver in hand. “Draw, you coyote! I come a-shooting.” +</p> + +<p> +The “King” wheeled, finding his weapon he turned. Two shots rang out almost +simultaneously, and Chalkeye pitched forward. The outlaw chief sank to his +knees, and, with one hand resting on the ground to steady himself fired two +more shots into the twitching body on the other side of the fire. Then he, too, +lurched forward and rolled over. +</p> + +<p> +It had come to climax so swiftly that not one of them had moved except the +combatants. Bannister rose and walked over to the place where the body of his +cousin lay. He knelt down and examined him. When he rose it was with a very +grave face. +</p> + +<p> +“He is dead,” he said quietly. +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams, who had been bending over Chalkeye, looked up. “Here, too. Any one +of the shots would have finished him.” +</p> + +<p> +Bannister nodded. “Yes. That first exchange killed them both.” He looked down +at the limp body of his cousin, but a minute before so full of supple, virile +life. “But his hate had to reach out and make sure, even though he was as good +as dead himself. He was game.” Then sharply to the young braggart, who had +risen and was edging away with a face of chalk: “Sit down, y’u! What do y’u +take us for? Think this is to be a massacre?” +</p> + +<p> +The man came back with palpable hesitancy. “I was aiming to go and get the boys +to bury them. My God, did you ever see anything so quick? They drilled through +each other like lightning.” +</p> + +<p> +Mac looked him over with dry contempt. “My friend, y’u’re too tender for a +genuwine A1 bad man. If I was handing y’u a bunch of advice it would be to get +back to the prosaic paths of peace right prompt. And while we’re on the subject +I’ll borrow your guns. Y’u’re scared stiff and it might get into your fool +coconut to plug one of us and light out. I’d hate to see y’u commit suicide +right before us, so I’ll just natcherally unload y’u.” +</p> + +<p> +He was talking to lift the strain, and it was for the same purpose that +Bannister moved over to Hughie, who sat with his face in his hands, trying to +shut out the horror of what he had seen. +</p> + +<p> +The sheepman dropped a hand on his shoulder gently. “Brace up, boy! Don’t you +see that the very best thing that could have happened is this. It’s best for +y’u, best for the rest of the gang and best for the whole cattle country. We’ll +have peace here at last. Now he’s gone, honest men are going to breathe easy. +I’ll take y’u in hand and set y’u at work on one of my stations, if y’u like. +Anyhow, you’ll have a chance to begin life again in a better way.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right,” agreed the blatant youth. “I’m sick of rustling the mails and +other folks’ calves. I’m glad he got what was coming to him,” he concluded +vindictively, with a glance at his dead chief and a sudden raucous oath. +</p> + +<p> +McWilliams’s cold blue eye transfixed him “Hadn’t you better be a little +careful how your mouth goes off? For one thing, he’s daid now; and for another, +he happens to be Mr. Bannister’s cousin.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—weren’t they enemies?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s how I understand it. But this man’s passed over the range. A <i>man</i> +doesn’t unload his hatred on dead folks—and I expect if y’u’ll study him, +even y’u will be able to figure out that my friend measures up to the size of a +real man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see why if—” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t suppose y’u do,” interrupted the foreman, turning on his heel. +Then to Bannister, who was looking down at his cousin with a stony face: “I +reckon, Bann, we better make arrangements to have the bodies buried right here +in the valley,” he said gently. +</p> + +<p> +Bannister was thinking of early days, of the time when this miscreant, whose +light had just been put out so instantaneously, had played with him day in and +day out. They had attended their first school together, had played marbles and +prisoners’ base a hundred times against each other. He could remember how they +used to get up early in the morning to go fishing with each other. And later, +when each began, unconsciously, to choose the path he would follow in already +beginning to settle into an established fact. He could see now, by looking back +on trifles of their childhood, that his cousin had been badly handicapped in +his fight with himself against the evil in him. He had inherited depraved +instincts and tastes, and with them somewhere in him a strand of weakness that +prevented him from slaying the giants he had to oppose in the making of a good +character. From bad to worse he had gone, and here he lay with the drizzling +rain on his white face, a warning and a lesson to wayward youths just setting +their feet in the wrong direction. Surely it was kismet. +</p> + +<p> +Ned Bannister untied the handkerchief from his neck and laid it across the face +of his kinsman. A moment longer he looked down, then passed his hands across +his eyes and seemed to brush away the memories that thronged him. He stepped +forward to the fire and warmed his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll go on, Mac, to the rendezvous he had appointed with his outfit. We ought +to reach there by noon, and the boys can send a wagon back to get the bodies.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.<br/> +JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS’ MEETING</h2> + +<p> +It had been six days since the two Ned Bannisters had ridden away together into +the mountains, and every waking hour since that time had been for Helen one of +harassing anxiety. No word had yet reached her of the issue of that dubious +undertaking, and she both longed and dreaded to hear. He had promised to send a +messenger as soon as he had anything definite to tell, but she knew it would be +like his cousin, too, to send her some triumphant word should he prove the +victor in the struggle between them. So that every stranger she glimpsed +brought to her a sudden beating of the heart. +</p> + +<p> +But it was not the nature of Helen Messiter to sit down and give herself up a +prey to foreboding. Her active nature cried out for work to occupy her and +distract her attention. Fortunately this was to be had in abundance just now. +For the autumn round-up was on, and since her foreman was away the mistress of +the Lazy D found plenty of work ready to her hand. +</p> + +<p> +The meeting place for the round-up riders was at Boom Creek, five miles from +the ranch, and Helen rode out there to take charge of her own interests in +person. With her were six riders, and for the use of each of them in addition +to his present mount three extra ponies were brought in the remuda. For the +riding is so hard during the round-up that a horse can stand only one day in +four of it. At the appointed rendezvous a score of other cowboys and owners met +them. Without any delay they proceeded to business. Mr. Bob Austin, better +known as “Texas,” was elected boss of the round-up, and he immediately assigned +the men to their places and announced that they would work Squaw Creek. They +moved camp at once, Helen returning to the ranch. +</p> + +<p> +It was three o’clock in the morning when the men were roused by the cook’s +triangle calling them to the “chuck wagon” for breakfast. It was still cold and +dark as the boys crawled from under their blankets and squatted round the fire +to eat jerky, biscuits and gravy, and to drink cupfuls of hot, black coffee. +Before sun rose every man was at his post far up on the Squaw Creek ridges +ready to begin the drive. +</p> + +<p> +Later in the day Helen rode to the <i>parada</i> grounds, toward which a stream +of cattle was pouring down the cañon of the creek. Every gulch tributary to the +creek contributed its quota of wild cows and calves. These came romping down +the cañon mouth, where four picked men, with a bunch of tame cows in front of +them, stopped the rush of flying cattle. Lunch was omitted, and branding began +at once. Every calf belonging to a Lazy D cow, after being roped and tied, was +flanked with the great D which indicated its ownership by Miss Messiter, and on +account of the recumbent position of which letter the ranch had its name. +</p> + +<p> +It was during the branding that a boyish young fellow rode up and handed Helen +a note. Her heart pumped rapidly with relief, for one glance told her that it +was in the handwriting of the Ned Bannister she loved. She tore it open and +glanced swiftly through it. +</p> + +<div class="letter"> +<p> +D<small>EAR</small> F<small>RIEND</small>: Two hours ago my cousin was killed +by one of his own men. I am sending back to you a boy who had been led astray +by him, and it would be a great service to me if you would give him something +to do till I return. His name is Hugh Rogers. I think if you trust him he will +prove worthy of it. +</p> + +<p> +Jim and I are going to stay here a few days longer to finish the work that is +begun. We hope to meet and talk with as many of the men implicated in my +cousin’s lawlessness as is possible. What the result will be I cannot say. We +do not consider ourselves in any danger whatever, though we are not taking +chances. If all goes well we shall be back within a few days. +</p> + +<p> +I hope you are not missing Jim too much at the roundup. Sincerely, +</p> +</div> + +<p class="right"> +N<small>ED</small> B<small>ANNISTER</small> +</p> + +<p> +She liked the letter because there was not a hint of the relationship between +them to be read in it. He had guarded her against the chance of its falling +into the wrong hands and creating talk about them. +</p> + +<p> +She turned to Hughie. “Can you ride?” +</p> + +<p> +“In a way, ma’am. I can’t ride like these men.” His glance indicated a +cow-puncher pounding past after a wild steer that had broken through the cordon +of riders and was trying to get away. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you want to learn?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to if I had a chance,” he answered wistfully. +</p> + +<p> +“All right. You have your chance. I’ll see that Mr. Austin finds something for +you to do. From to-day you are in my employ.” +</p> + +<p> +She rode back to the ranch in the late afternoon, while the sun was setting in +a great splash of crimson. The round-up boss had hinted that if she were +nervous about riding alone he could find it convenient to accompany her. But +the girl wanted to be alone with her own thoughts, and she had slipped away +while he was busy cutting out calves from the herd. It had been a wonderful +relief to her to find that <i>her</i> Ned Bannister was the one that had +survived in the conflict, and her heart sang a paean of joy as she rode into +the golden glow of the westering sun. He was alive—to love and be loved. +The unlived years of her future seemed to unroll before her as a vision. She +glowed with a resurgent happiness that was almost an ecstasy. The words of a +bit of verse she had once seen—a mere scrap from a magazine that had +stuck in an obscure corner of her memory—sang again and again in her +heart: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Life and love<br/> + And a bright sky o’er us,<br/> +And—God take care<br/> + Of the way before us! +</p> + +<p> +Ah, the way before them, before her and her romance-radiating hero! It might be +rough and hilly, but if they trod it together—Her tangled thoughts were +off again in another glad leap of imagination. +</p> + +<p> +The days passed somehow. She busied herself with the affairs of the ranch, rode +out often to the scenes of the cattle drives and watched the round-up, and +every twenty-four hours brought her one day nearer to his return, she told +herself. Nora, too, was on the lookout under her longlashed, roguish eyelids; +and the two young women discussed the subject of their lovers’ return in that +elusive, elliptical way common to their sex. +</p> + +<p> +No doubt each of these young women had conjectured as to the manner of that +homecoming and the meeting that would accompany it; but it is safe to say that +neither of them guessed in her day-dreams how it actually was to occur. +</p> + +<p> +Nora had been eager to see something of the round-up, and as she was no +horsewoman her mistress took her out one day in her motor. The drive had been +that day on Bronco Mesa, and had finished in the natural corral made by Bear +Cañon, fenced with a cordon of riders at the end opening to the plains below. +After watching for two hours the busy scenes of cutting out, roping and +branding, Helen wheeled her car and started down the cañon on their return. +</p> + +<p> +Now, a herd of wild cattle is uncertain as an April day’s behavior. Under the +influence of the tame valley cattle among which they are driven, after a little +milling around, the whole bunch may gentle almost immediately, or, on the other +hand, it may break through and go crashing away on a wild stampede at a +moment’s notice. Every experienced cowman knows enough to expect the +unexpected. +</p> + +<p> +At Bronco Mesa the round-up had proceeded with unusual facility. Scores of +wiry, long-legged steers had drifted down the ridges or gulches that led to the +cañon; and many a cow, followed by its calf, had stumbled forward to the herd +and apparently accepted the inevitable. But before Helen Messiter had well +started out of the cañon’s mouth the situation changed absolutely. +</p> + +<p> +A big hill steer, which had not seen a man for a year, broke through the human +corral with a bellow near a point where Reddy kept guard. The puncher wheeled +and gave chase, Before the other men could close the opening a couple of +two-year-olds seized the opportunity and followed its lead. A second rider gave +chase, and at once, as if some imp of mischief had stirred them, fifty tails +went up in wild flight. Another minute and the whole herd was in stampede. +</p> + +<p> +Down the gulch the five hundred cattle thundered toward the motor car, which +lay directly in their path. Helen turned, appreciated the danger, and put the +machine at its full speed. The road branched for a space of about fifty yards, +and in her excitement she made the mistake of choosing the lower, more level, +one. Into a deep sand bed they plowed, the wheels sinking at every turn. Slower +and slower went the car; finally came to a full stop. +</p> + +<p> +Nora glanced back in affright at the two hundred and fifty tons of beef that +was charging wildly toward them. “What shall we do?” she gasped, and clambered +to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“Run!” cried Helen, following her example and scudding for the sides of the +cañon, which here sloped down less precipitately than at other points. But +before they had run a dozen steps each of them was aware that they could not +reach safety in time to escape the hoofs rushing toward them so heavily that +the ground quaked. +</p> + +<p> +“Look out!” A resonant cry rang out above the dull thud of the stampeding +cattle that were almost upon them. Down the steep sides of the gorge two riders +were galloping recklessly. It was a race for life between them and the first of +the herd, and they won by scarce more than a length. Across the sand the horses +plowed, and as they swept past the two trembling young women each rider bent +from the saddle without slackening speed, and snatched one almost from under +the very hoofs of the leaders. +</p> + +<p> +The danger was not past. As the horses swerved and went forward with the rush +Helen knew that a stumble would fling not only her and the man who had saved +her, but also the horse down to death. They must contrive to hold their own in +that deadly rush until a way could be found of escaping from the path of the +living cyclone that trod at their heels, galloped beside them, in front, +behind. +</p> + +<p> +For it came to her that the horse was tiring in that rush through the sand with +double weight upon its back. +</p> + +<p> +“Courage!” cried the man behind her as her fearful eyes met his. +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke they reached the end of the cañon and firm ground simultaneously. +Helen saw that her rescuer had now a revolver in his hand, and that he was +firing in such a way as to deflect the leaders to the left. At first the change +in course was hardly perceptible, but presently she noticed that they were +getting closer to the outskirts of the herd, working gradually to the extreme +right, edging inch by inch, ever so warily, toward safety. Going parallel to +their course, running neck and neck with the cow pony, lumbered a great dun +steer. Unconsciously it blocked every effort of the horseman to escape. He had +one shot left in his revolver, and this time he did not fire into the air. It +was a mighty risk, for the animal in falling might stagger against the horse +and hunt them all down to death. But the man took it without apparent +hesitation. Into the ear of the bullock he sent the lead crashing. The brute +stumbled and went down head over heels. Its flying hoofs struck the flanks of +the pony, but the bronco stuck to its feet, and next moment staggered out from +among the herd stragglers and came to halt. +</p> + +<p> +The man slid from its back and lifted down the half-fainting girl. She clung to +him, white a trembling. “Oh, it was horrible, Ned!” She could still look down +in imagination upon the sea of dun backs that swayed and surged about them like +storm-tossed waves. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a near thing, but we made it, girl. So did Jim. He got out before we +did. It’s all past now. You can remember it as the most exciting experience of +your life.” +</p> + +<p> +She shuddered. “I don’t want to remember it at all.” And so shaken was she that +she did not realize that his arm was about her the while she sobbed on his +shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“A cattle stampede <i>is</i> a nasty thing to get in front of. Never mind. It’s +done with now and everybody’s safe.” +</p> + +<p> +She drew a long breath. “Yes, everybody’s safe and you are back home. Why +didn’t you come after your cousin was killed?” +</p> + +<p> +“I had to finish my work.” +</p> + +<p> +“And <i>did</i> you finish it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think we did. There will be no more Shoshone gang. It’s members have scatted +in all directions.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad you stayed, then. We can live at peace now.” And presently she added: +“I knew you would not come back until you had done what you set out to do. +You’re very obstinate, sir. Do you know that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perseverance, I call it,” he smiled, glad to see that she was recovering her +lightness of tone. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t always insist on putting your actions in the most favorable light. +Do you remember the first day I ever saw you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I likely ever to forget it?” he smiled fondly. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t mean <i>that</i>. What I was getting at was that you let me go away +from you thinking you were ‘the king.’ I haven’t forgiven you entirely for +that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I expect y’u’ll always have to be forgiving me things.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you valued my good opinion I don’t see how you could let me go without +telling me. Was it fair or kind?” +</p> + +<p> +“If y’u come to that, was it so fair and kind to convict me so promptly on +suspicion?” he retaliated with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +“No, it wasn’t. But—” She flushed with a divine shyness. “But I loved you +all the time, even when they said you were a villain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Even while y’u believed me one?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t. I never would believe you one—not deep in my heart. I wouldn’t +let myself. I made excuses for you—explained everything to myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet your reason told y’u I was guilty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I think my mind hated you and my heart loved you.” +</p> + +<p> +He adored her for the frank simplicity of her confession, that out of the +greatness of her love she dared to make no secret of it to him. Direct as a +boy, she was yet as wholly sweet as the most retiring girl could be. +</p> + +<p> +“Y’u always swamp my vocabulary, sweetheart. I can’t ever tell y’u—life +wouldn’t be long enough—how much I care for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad,” she said simply. +</p> + +<p> +They stood looking at each other, palms pressed to palms in meeting hands, +supremely happy in this miracle of love that had befallen them. They were +alone—for Nora and Jim had gone into temporary eclipse behind a hill and +seemed in no hurry to emerge—alone in the sunshine with this wonder that +flowed from one to another by shining eyes, by finger touch, and then by +meeting lips. He held her close, knew the sweet delight of contact with the +supple, surrendered figure, then released her as she drew away in maidenly +reserve. +</p> + +<p> +“When shall we be married, Helen? Is the early part of next week too late?” he +asked. +</p> + +<p> +Still blushing, she straightened her hat. “That’s ridiculous, sir. I haven’t +got used to the thought of you yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Plenty of time for that afterward. Then we’ll say next week if that suits +y’u.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it doesn’t. Don’t you know that it is the lady’s privilege to name the +day? Besides, I want time to change my mind if I should decide to.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he laughed joyfully. “So I have to insist on an +early marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“Insist?” she demurred. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been told on the best of authority that I’m very obstinate,” he gayly +answered. +</p> + +<p> +“I have a mind of my own myself. If I ever marry you be sure I shall name the +day, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will y’u marry me the day Nora does Jim?” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll see.” The eyes slanted at him under the curved lashes, teased him +delightfully. “Did Nora tell you she was going to marry Jim?” +</p> + +<p> +Bannister looked mildly hurt. “My common sense has been telling it to me a +month.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long has your common sense been telling you about us?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t use it when I fell in love with y’u,” he boldly laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Of all things to say!” +</p> + +<p> +“Because it would have told me y’u couldn’t possibly care for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s different!” +</p> + +<p> +“Not being able to help myself, I just went ahead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it good? Isn’t it too good to be true—Ned?” +</p> + +<p> +Tears brimmed in her happy eyes, and unconsciously she leaned toward him. In an +instant she was in his arms again, both of them compelled by the imperative +impulse of true lovers. +</p> + +<p> +Out of the hollow presently appeared Nora and McWilliams, very much oblivious +of the outside world. Presently they condescended to recognize the existence of +Bannister and Helen. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re allowin’ to be married in September,” said Mac sheepishly, by way of +explanation. +</p> + +<p> +The two girls flew into each other’s arms. Over Nora’s shoulder Ned caught his +sweetheart’s eye and read there a blushing consent to a public announcement. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s ce’tainly a strange coincidence, Jim. So are we,” he answered +immediately. +</p> + +<p> +The two friends shook hands. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +THE END. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WYOMING ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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