diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 19371.txt | 11704 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 19371.zip | bin | 0 -> 219633 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
5 files changed, 11720 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19371.txt b/19371.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8696c76 --- /dev/null +++ b/19371.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11704 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Forfeit, by Ridgwell Cullum + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Forfeit + + +Author: Ridgwell Cullum + + + +Release Date: September 25, 2006 [eBook #19371] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FORFEIT*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +THE FORFEIT + +by + +RIDGWELL CULLUM + +Author of +"The Night Riders," "The Way of The Strong," "The Trail of The Axe," +Etc. + + + + + + + +A. L. Burt Company +Publishers ------ New York +Published by arrangement with George W. Jacobs & Company +Copyright, 1917, by +George W. Jacobs & Company +All rights reserved + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. AT RAINBOW HILL VALLEY + II. CONFLICTING CURRENTS + III. TRAILING THE "BLACK TAIL" + IV. THE WEAKER VESSEL + V. THE HANGING BEE + VI. THE RAIDERS RAIDED + VII. OUTLAND JUSTICE + VIII. JEFF CLOSES THE BOOK + IX. FOUR YEARS LATER + X. THE POLO CLUB RACES + XI. ELVINE VAN BLOOREN + XII. THE TEMPERING + XIII. THE NEWS + XIV. THE KNOCKING ON THE DOOR + XV. THE HOME-COMING + XVI. THE RANCHMAN + XVII. THE CALL TO ORRVILLE + XVIII. DUG MCFARLANE + XIX. THE RETURN HOME + XX. AT BUD'S + XXI. THE BARRIER + XXII. THREATENINGS + XXIII. THE HEARTS OF TWO WOMEN + XXIV. TO SPRUCE CROSSING + XXV. AN EPIC BATTLE + XXVI. UNDER THE VEIL + XXVII. THE ROUND-UP + + + + +THE FORFEIT + + +CHAPTER I + +AT RAINBOW HILL VALLEY + +A companionable silence prevailed in the room. At intervals it was +broken, but only by the rustle of paper or the striking of a match. +The heavy breathing, almost amounting to a snore, of one of the two +men, and the inarticulate protests of a laboring "rocker" chair--these +things were only a part of it. + +The man at the table was deeply immersed in a miniature sea of +calculations. His fair brows were drawn in deep concentration. +Frequently he was at great pains to relight a pipe which contained +nothing but charred remnants of tobacco and a moist, unsmokable mixture +which afforded only a somewhat offensive taste and aroma. + +The partner in this companionship overflowed an undersized "rocker," +which withstood, with supreme heroism, the overwhelming forces of its +invader. But its sufferings, under the rhythmic rise and fall imposed +upon it, found expression at intervals, although they failed to inspire +the least sympathy. The heedless giant's whole attention seemed to be +absorbed in the personality and effort of his friend. + +Finally the latter raised a pair of deep blue eyes. Following upon a +sigh, he thrust his papers aside with a brusque movement of relief. +Then he raised a hand to his broad forehead and smoothed his disheveled +fair hair, which seemed to have undergone some upheaval as a result of +the mental disturbance his efforts had inspired in the brain beneath. +The handsome eyes smiled a reassuring smile into the rugged face of his +friend. + +"Well?" he enquired, without seeming to desire a reply. + +"Wal?" echoed the gruff voice of the man in the rocker. + +"It's done." + +"So--I guessed." + +The patient amusement in the twinkling eyes of the man in the rocker +was good to see. There was confidence, too, in his regard of the +younger man. + +"Can we do it--sure?" he enquired, as the other remained silent. + +"Without a worry." + +"Then dope it out, boy. The easiest thing in the world is handin' out +dollars on a right enterprise. I don't know nothin' better--except it +is takin' 'em in on the same sort o' play." + +Jeffrey Masters smiled more broadly into his friend's good-humored face. + +"Five years back, handing out twenty thousand dollars would have given +us a nightmare, even on a right proposition," he said. "It isn't that +way now. Guess we'll sleep on this thing like new-born babes with our +tanks filled right. Nat Williams is out to sell quick, and if we're +bright, it's up to us to buy quick. For twenty thousand dollars," he +proceeded, referring to his figures, "we get his house, barns, corrals, +and all his rolling stock. His growing crops and machinery. The bunch +of old cows and calves he's pleased to call his 'herds.' Also three +teams of Shire-bred heavy draft horses, and six hundred and forty acres +of first-class wheat land and grazing that only needs capital and +hustle to set right on top. I don't guess it'll worry us any to hand +it all it needs that way. This buy will join up my 'O----' territory +with your 'T.T.' grazing, and will turn the combination into one of the +finest ranching propositions west of Calthorpe, and one which even +Montana needs to be proud of." + +He leaned back in his chair with a certain air of satisfaction. But +there was just a shade of anxiety, too, in the glance with which he +favored his friend. However, he need have felt no misgivings. Bud +Tristram had none. He understood the keen business brain underlying +his friend's tumbled fair hair. Moreover, Jeff, who was only half the +older man's age, was regarded with something like parental affection. + +They had fought their way up together from obscure beginnings to their +present affluence, as the owners of the "T.T." ranch and the "O----" +ranch respectively. They had been partners in all but name. Now they +contemplated a definite deed of that nature. It was a consummation +which the older man had looked forward to ever since he first lent a +hand to his new and youthful neighbor. It was a consummation which +Jeffrey, with acute foresight and honest purpose, had set himself to +achieve. If the older man regarded him with almost parental affection, +that regard was fully reciprocated. The business conference between +them had for its purpose their mutual advantage, and both men were +perfectly aware of the fact. + +But the thought that slightly worried the younger man was the ease, the +unconcern of his future partner's attitude. It disquieted him because +it increased his responsibility. But long ago he had learned the +generous nature of the Great Bud. Long ago he had realized his +trusting simplicity. Now he would have preferred a keen +cross-examination of his statement. But none was forthcoming, and he +was forced to continue in face of the silent acceptance. + +"Bud, old friend, I wish I could get you interested in--figures. And I +guess they surely are interesting, when you apply them to our own +concerns." + +But Bud remained unmoved. He stretched himself in an ecstasy of ease, +raising his great arms above his grizzled head in profound enjoyment of +his bodily comfort. + +He shook his head. + +"Guess I know a steer. Guess I know grass when I see it. I wouldn't +say there's a brand in Montana I ain't familiar with. But +figgers--sums--they're hell. An' I don't guess I'm yearning for hell +anyway. Figgers is a sort o' paradise to you. You're built that way. +Say, I don't calc'late to rob you of a thing--not even paradise. We'll +take your figgers as they stand." + +Jeffrey Masters shook his head. + +"They're right, sure. But it's no sort of way to talk business." + +"Business talk always makes me sweat." + +It was quite impossible. Jeffrey was growing impatient. A frown +settled upon his broad brow, and the man in the rocker watched it with +amused eyes. + +Quite suddenly the younger man's impatience broke forth into verbal +protest. + +"Say, you make me mad. Was there ever such a feller looking for sharps +to play him? How do you know I'm not out to beat you? Why, I could +roll you for every dollar you possess without lying awake five minutes +at night. It's not fair, Bud. It's not fair to me--to you--to your +little Nan----" + +"What's not fair to Nan?" + +Bud's twinkling eyes shot round upon the open French window with an +alertness scarcely to be expected in a man of such apparent mental +indolence. Jeffrey's eyes cleared of their hot impatience as they +sought a similar direction. The gaze of both men encountered the +picture of a brown-eyed, brown-haired girl of exquisite proportions, +standing framed in the open window. She was clad in a riding suit of +light material, with a long-skirted coat which obviously concealed the +divided skirt beneath. Her long, brown top boots were white with dust +of the trail, and her vicious-looking Mexican spurs hung loosely upon +her heels. Her eyes were bright with intelligence and good humor, and +her pretty oval face smiled out from under the wide brim of an ample +prairie hat. + +Jeff began to laugh. + +"It's your crazy old father, Nan," he cried. "Say, just look at him. +Feast your eyes on him. Can you beat it? Here we are right up to our +necks in an epoch-making business proposition and he don't concern +himself two whoops. Was there ever such a bunch of simple trusting +folly as is rolled up in that six feet three of good-hearted honesty? +_That's_ what's not fair to--Nan." + +The girl came and laid a protecting hand upon the flannel-clad +shoulders of her father. Just for a moment her laughing eyes gazed +affectionately down upon the recumbent form of the only parent she +possessed, and whom she idolized. He was stretched out luxuriously, +his great be-chapped legs reaching to the table leg as a support to +hold the rocker at a comfortable poise. His shirt sleeves were rolled +up displaying a pair of arms like legs of mutton. The beadwork +wristlets were held fixed in their position by the distended muscles +beneath them. She was proud of him, this father who went through the +world trusting human nature, and handling cattle as only an artist in +his profession can handle them. + +Then her dancing eyes sought the face of Jeffrey Masters. Her smile +remained, but a subtle something crept into their depths as she +surveyed it. It was the handsome, clean-cut face of a purposeful man. +There was a straight-forward directness in the gaze of his blue eyes. +It was the face of a man who has no fear, physical or moral. It was +almost too uncompromising in its fearlessness. + +Nan knew its every line by heart. She had thought of it, dreamed of +it, since the time when she had first realized that a woman's life is +wholly incomplete without the care of a man upon her hands. Sometimes +she had felt that Jeffrey Masters possessed depths which could never be +fathomed. Depths of strength, of resource, and all those qualities +which make for success. Sometimes she even went further, when her +analytical faculties--which she possessed in an unusual degree--were +most active. She felt that the possession of all these firm qualities +had rather smothered, to an extent, the gentler emotions of the human +nature in him. He was strong, passionate, with a conscience of an +almost puritanical order, and somehow she felt that a little softening, +a little leavening of human weakness would have been all to the good. +But this understanding made no difference to her woman's regard, unless +it were to strengthen it to a sort of gentle worship such as woman is +always ready to yield to strength. It required no effort upon her part +to picture this man in the heroic mould of a Spartan warrior. + +"'_That_,'" she replied, with a whimsical smile, "is a man, who most +generally seems to fancy his own way of doing things." Then she shook +her head as her arm slipped protectingly around the big man's bronzed +neck. "I don't guess a woman's argument ever made a man see things +different yet. What's he done, Jeff?" + +Jeff laughed without humor. + +"Done?" he exclaimed. Then, with a shake of the head: "It's not what +he's done. Guess it's what he hasn't done, and what he don't seem to +figure to do. I'd kind of raised a hope when I saw you in the window. +But--well, it was only her father's daughter that came in, I guess." + +Then he drew his papers toward him again, and glanced seriously at the +figures. + +"It's Nat's farm," he explained. "And it's the thing we've been +waiting on years. We're getting it fixed right, and your Bud's just +about as much help as a deaf mute at a talking bee. I hand him +figgers, and--and he smiles, just smiles. I hand him facts, and--he +keeps on smiling. It's the kind of smile you most generally see on a +dog-tired feller's face when you hand him a funny story. He don't care +a cuss anyway. He's figuring to hand Nat ten thousand dollars with no +more kick than a government spending public money. He don't kick +reasonably or unreasonably, and I'd gamble you a new hat he hasn't a +notion what he's getting for it. It makes me feel like a 'hold-up,' +and I say it's not fair to me--nor to himself--nor to--you." + +Jeff was serious enough. In such affairs it would have been difficult +to find him otherwise. Nan understood. These two men had long been +her profound study. Her smiling regard remained unchanging while the +man was talking. When he ceased she bent over her father in a +caressing fashion. + +"He'd lose his bet. He surely would, daddy dear, wouldn't he? But we +really need to answer, don't we? He'd think we were both fools, else. +He wouldn't like it either. Say, daddy, shall--shall I talk?" + +Bud chuckled comfortably. + +"I'd hate to stop you, Nan." + +Nan smiled contentedly, and raised a pair of challenging eyes in the +direction of the table. + +"My daddy thinks I talk too much," she said. "But I s'pose that's my +way--most girls talk when they get the chance--just the same as it's +his way talking too little. But neither ways suggest a fool, Jeff. +And anyway the only sort of fool you need to worry with is the fool who +don't see and act in a way of his own. My daddy's acting in his own +way, and I guess it isn't his way, working overtime with the band +playing. If you're dead fixed on having a gamble, it's a new hat to a +new and less smelly pipe than you're smoking now, that he knows the +inside of this deal to the last cent's worth. But what's more, Jeff, +he knows you, and knows you couldn't 'hold-up' a Sunday-school kiddie +without going and telling its teacher first. And now the mail." + +She left her father's side and moved to the table, a very picture of +gentle decision and practice. + +"Three for you, my daddy," she cried, dropping three letters on his +chest, where his shirt gaped just below his neck. Then she turned +about. "Only one for you, honest Jeff. Just one, and I've guessed at +the writing till I'm sick." + +Jeff was smiling up with frank amusement. + +"Say, that's great. It's got you beat. Well," he added, as he picked +up the letter, "I'll just keep you right on guessing. Where's yours?" + +The girl laughed merrily. + +"Had mine. I don't guess any right-acting girl would sit easy in the +saddle twelve miles without reading her mail. Say----" she paused. +The smile had died out of her eyes. Jeff's expression had abruptly +changed. He was regarding the address on his envelope with startled +seriousness. Then she went on quickly: "Guess I'll wait till you're +both through. I'll get right out an' off-saddle. Then for supper." + +In the parlor the silence remained unbroken. It became unduly +prolonged. Bud finished his mail. Jeff was still reading his. It was +not a long letter. He had already read it twice through. Now he again +turned back to its beginning. + +Bud observed him closely. He saw the knitted brows. The curious set +of the man's lips. His absorbed interest. Nor did he interrupt. He +contented himself with that patient waiting which betrayed much of the +solid strength of his character. + +Presently Jeff looked up. But his eyes did not seek his friend. They +were turned upon the open window, his gaze wandering out toward the +distant hills, which marked the confines of Rainbow Hill Valley. + +Still the other refrained from speech. Finally it was Jeff, himself, +who broke the silence. + +"Bud," he began, without withdrawing his gaze from the scene beyond the +window, "it's a letter from Ronald. It's the second word I've had of +him in--five years." + +Bud nodded. + +"The twin." + +Jeff's gaze came slowly, thoughtfully back to Bud's face. + +"Sure. We're twins." + +An unusual softness crept into the eyes of the man at the table. + +"I'm kind of wondering, Bud," he went on presently, "wondering if you +get all that means--means to me. I don't know." He passed a hand +slowly across his brow, as though to brush aside growing perplexities. +"I don't seem to get all it means myself. No, I don't. The whole +thing's so queer," he went on, with a nervous, restless movement in his +chair. "It sort of seems crazy, too." He laughed meaninglessly. Then +he suddenly leaned forward with flushed cheeks and hot eyes. "Bud, +don't think me crazy, but--well, say, I'm only part of me without Ronny +near. Oh, I don't guess that explains. But it's what I feel--and I +can't just talk it right. You don't get it? No, of course you don't. +I can see it in your eyes. You think I'm right for the foolish-house. +Listen. Is it possible--is it ordinary reason that when twins are +born, the nature of one normal child can be divided between the two, +one having what the other feller lacks? There, that's how I feel about +it. It's the way it is with Ronny and me. All that he is not, I am. +I haven't one of his better features. Say, Bud, I'm a pretty cold sort +of man. I'd have made a fair sort of Puritan if I'd been on earth a +century or so ago. I've little enough humor. I don't care for play. +I don't care for half the fun most folks see in life. I'd sooner work +than eat. And Ronny--well, Ronny isn't just any of those things. He's +just a boy, full of every sort of human notion that's opposite to mine. +And I'm crazy for him. Say, Bud, I love him better than anything in +life. If anything happened to that boy, why, I guess all that's worth +while in me would die plumb out." + +He paused. Bud's shrewd eyes remained studying the emotion-lit +features of this usually unemotional man. He felt he was being +admitted to a peep at a soul that was rarely, if ever, bared, and he +wondered at the reason. Was it a calculated display, or was it the +outlet for an emotion altogether too strong for the man's restraint? +He inclined to the former belief. + +"Nothin' _has_ happened?" he enquired presently, in his direct fashion. + +Jeff laughed without any visible sign of lightness. + +"No," he said. Then with a deep sigh. "Thank God nothing has +happened. But----" + +"Then the trouble----?" + +"The trouble? Say, Bud, try to get it all as I see it. It's +difficult. The boy's away up trapping and shooting--for a +living--somewhere in the Cathills. He's away there living on hard pan, +while I'm here steadily traipsing on with you to a big pile. Remember +he's my other--half. Do you know how I feel? No, you can't. Say, +he's as merry as I am--dour. He's as fond of life, and play, and the +good things of the world as I'm indifferent to 'em. He's +reckless--he's _weak_." Suddenly Jeff's eyes lit. A great passion +seemed to surge through his whole body. "Bud, I want him here. I want +to be always around to help him when he gets bumping into potholes. +It's that weakness that sets me crazy when I think. He ain't made for +the dreary grind of the life we live. That's why he cut it out when I +came here. Well there's no grind for him now, and I want to have him +come along and share in with me. That's why I'm talking now. From +this moment on we're a great proposition in the ranching world, and I +want Ronny to share in with me." + +Bud nodded. + +"I get it," he said. Then he added: "You're a great feller." + +"Great! Cut it out, Bud," Jeff cried sharply. "It's my love for that +other half of me that's talking. That merry bit of a--twin." + +"An' you're sendin' for him?" + +Jeff shrugged, and depression seemed suddenly to descend upon him. + +"If I could fix it that way I don't guess I'd have opened my face to +hand you all this. But I can't. He's in the Cathills, away a hundred +and more miles northwest of us. That's all he says. He don't give a +mail address. No, Bud, I'm going to hunt him out. I'm going to find +him, and bring him back. I'll find him sure. We're just one mind an' +one body, an'," he added thoughtfully, "I don't guess I'll need a +detective bureau to locate him. If he was chasin' around the other end +of the world I'd find him--sure. You see, he's the other half of me." + +Bud nodded in sympathy, but made no verbal reply. + +"See, Bud," Jeff went on, a moment later. "The spring round-up's +through. We're going to fix this deed right away. When the attorneys +have robbed us all they need, and Nat's handed over, there'll be a good +month to haying. That month I'm going to spend in the Cathills. I'll +be back for the hay." + +The other eased himself in his rocker. Then for some moments no sound +broke the silence of the room. + +"It's been a heavy spring," Bud said at last. + +Jeff nodded. His thoughts were away in the Cathills. + +"Seems to me," Bud went on. "Work kind o' worries me some these +times." He smiled. "Guess the wheels need the dope of leisure. Mebbe +I ain't as young as you." + +"No." + +Jeff's attention was still wandering. + +"Guess the Cathills is an a'mighty big piece o' country gropin' around +in," Bud went on. + +"Sure. A hell of a piece. But--it don't signify." + +"No-o," Bud meditated. Then he added: "I was kind o' thinkin'." + +"How?" + +"Why, mebbe two folks chasin' up a pin in a bunch o' grass is li'ble to +halve most o' the chances agin either of 'em jabbin' their hands on the +business end of it." + +"Two? You mean you're goin' to come along an' help find--Ronny?" + +Jeff's eyes were expressing the thanks his lips withheld. + +Bud excused himself. + +"Them Cathills is plumb full of fur an' things. Say, I ain't handled a +gun in weeks." + +"Bud, you're----" + +The door of the room was abruptly flung open and Jeff's words remained +unspoken. + +"Supper, folks!" + +Nan's smiling eyes glanced from one to the other. She stood in the +doorway compelling them. Besides, the memory of Jeff's letter was +still with her, and she was anxious to observe its later effect. That +which she now beheld was obviously satisfactory, and her smile deepened +contentedly. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CONFLICTING CURRENTS + +They were busy days in Orrville. But business rarely yielded outward +display in its citizens. Men talked more. They perhaps moved about +more--in their customary leisurely fashion. But any approach to bustle +was as foreign to the rule of the township as it would be to a colony +of aged snails in a cyclone. + +It was the custom of Orrville to rise early and go to bed late. But +this by no means implies any excessive activity. On the contrary. +These spells of activity lasted just as long as their accomplishment +required. In the interim its citizens returned to a slumber little +less profound than that which supervened at night after the last +roysterer had been ejected, by force, or persuasion, from the +salubrious precincts of Ju Penrose's saloon. + +Orrville was a ranching township in the northwestern corner of Montana +lying roughly some twenty miles west of the foothills of the Cathill +Mountains, which, in turn, formed a projecting spur of the main range +of the Rockies. + +Orrville was the township and Ju Penrose was the pioneer of its +commerce. He was a man of keen instincts for commerce of his own +especial brand, and rejoiced in a disreputable past. He possessed a +thin, hooked nose of some dimensions, which never failed to cut a way +for its owner into the shady secrets of his neighbors. He possessed a +temper as amiable and mild as a spring lamb when the stream of +prosperity and profit flowed his way, and as vitriolic as a she-wolf in +winter, when that stream chanced to become diverted into a neighbor's +direction. + +He was considered a man of some importance in the place. But this was +probably the result of the nature of his trade, which, in the eyes of +the denizens of the neighborhood, certainly possessed an advantage over +such stodgy callings as "dry goods." But besides the all-important +thirst-quenching purpose of his establishment, it had become a sort of +bureau for large and small transactions of a ranching nature, and a +resort where every sort of card game could be freely indulged in, +without regard for the limit of the stakes, and had thus gained for +itself the subsidiary title amongst its clientele of "Ju's Poker Joint." + +At the moment Ju's usually busy tongue was taking a well-earned rest, +and his hawk-like visage was shrouded in a deep, contemplative repose. +His always bloodshot eyes were speculative as he surveyed the +smoke-laden scene from behind his shabby bar. The place was full of +drinkers and gamblers. The hour was past midnight. And he was +estimating silently the further spending possibilities of his +customers, and consequently considering the advisability of closing +down. + +A group of three ranch hands leaned against the centre of the bar. +Their glasses were empty and none of them seemed anxious to command +their refilling. They were talking earnestly. And their voices were +unusually modulated. Just beyond these a slight, good-looking man in +chapps, with a face of particularly refined but somewhat debauched +appearance, was obviously interested in their talk, although he took no +part in it. On the other side of them, away at the far end of the bar, +leaned a solitary, tough-looking drinker, who seemed to take no +interest whatever in his surroundings. Every man in the place, the +dozen or so occupying the card tables included, was fully armed in the +customary fashion prevailing in this distant corner of the ranching +world, and it would have needed no second thought to realize that these +heavy, loaded weapons were not by any means intended for decorative +purposes. + +"Wal, anyways they're a long time fixin' things," observed one of the +three at the centre of the bar, with a yawn that displayed a double row +of gleaming white teeth. "The boss guessed I'd best wait around, so it +ain't a heap o' use kickin'. I'll hev to wait till the durned +committee's through, if it takes 'em sittin' as long us a hide-bound +hen." + +"It's allus that-a-way when folks gets on a committee racket, Curly," +replied one of his friends with a sympathetic grin. + +"That's just how, Dan," agreed the third. "Hot air. That's what it +is. This tarnation Vigilance stunt sets folk whisperin' among +'emselves 'bout the hell goin' to be ladled out to all cattle thieves +in general. Gives 'em visions of hangin'-bees, an' a sort o' firework +display with guns an' things, an' when they hatched out, what's the +result? Why, a waste o' hot air, an'--no checkens." + +"'T'so, Dan," agreed Curly, with easy decision. "The boss is too near +relative of a fancy gentleman for to hand out the sort o' dope rustlers +need. If us boys had the job we'd fix things quick. You'd see this +bum gang kicking air at the end of a rope 'fore Ju, here, had time to +dope out four fingers of rotgut at the expense of the house." + +He leered across at the unsmiling face of the saloon-keeper. Ju +permitted himself to be drawn. + +"Nothin' doin', Curly." A solemn shake of the head set his walrus +moustache flapping. Then he drew a cigar from a top vest pocket and +bit the end through, brushing his moustache aside to discover a place +in which to deposit it in his mouth. "I'd sure hate to dope out any +rotgut on you boys. Y'see, I sure got your health at heart. I kind o' +love you fellers to death. I'd hate to see you sufferin' at my hands. +Guess I was raised Christian." + +"Was you?" + +Curly's sarcasm achieved the laugh intended, and, as a result of his +satisfaction, he flung his last half-dollar on the dingy bar. + +"Make that into three drops of liver souse, an' hand us a smile, Ju. +Your face is sure killin' trade." + +Ju rolled his cigar across his mouth under the curtain of moustache, +lit it, and proceeded to push an uncorked bottle across to his +customers. + +"Guess it ain't a bad proposition handin' you boys a smile. Smiles +allus happen easy on foolish faces. Seein' I ain't deaf I been +listenin' to your talk, an' I ain't made up my mind if you're as bright +as you're guessin', or if you're the suckers your talk makes you out. +Seein' I don't usual take chances, I'll put my dollars on the sucker +business. I've stood behind this darned old bar fer ten years, an' I +guess for five of 'em I've listened to talk like yours--from fellers +like you." He removed the bottle from which the three men had helped +themselves to liberal "four fingers," and eyed their glasses askance. +"Now, you're worritin' over this lousy Lightfoot gang. So was the +others. So's everybody bin fer five years. An' fer five years this +same lousy Lightfoot gang has just been helpin' 'emselves to the cattle +on the ranches around here--liberal. Same as youse fellers have helped +yourselves out o' this bottle. An', durin' that time, I ain't heard +tell of one o' them boys who's been spoilin' to hang 'em all doin' a +thing. Not a thing, 'cep' it's lap up whisky to keep up a supply o' +hot air. + +"Wal," he proceeded, in his biting fashion, as he thrust the bottle on +the shelf and began wiping glasses with a towel that looked to be +decomposing for want of soap, "them lousy rustlers is still running +their play in the district jest wher', when, an' how they darn please. +See? You, Curly, are kickin' because your boss Dug McFarlane is too +much of a gentleman. Wal, if I know a man from a seam-squirrel, I'd +sure say Dug's got more savee in his whiskers than you got dirt--which +is some. If I got things right, this night's sittin's goin' to put +paid to the Lightfoot gang's account. I'd be glad to say the same of +one or two scores three bums have lately run up right here." + +The offensiveness of his manner left the men quite undisturbed. The +place would have been strange to them without it. They accepted it as +part of the evening's entertainment. But the allusion to the Vigilance +Committee's efforts brought them into attitudes of close attention. It +drew the attention, too, of the cattleman with the refined features, +and, equally, that of the tough-looking individual at the far end of +the bar. + +"What are they goin' to do?" demanded Dan urgently. + +Ju puffed aggravatingly at his cigar. + +"Do?" he echoed at last, gazing distantly at the card players across +the room. "Why, what any bunch of savee should ha' done five years +ago. Put out a great reward." + +Curly snorted in disdain. + +"See, I tho't it was to be a big play." + +"You allus was bright," sneered Dan. "How's that goin' to fix the +Lightfoot crowd?" + +"How?" Ju's contempt always found an outlet in the echo of an +opponent's interrogation. "Say, Dan, how old are you? Twenty?" + +"That ain't nuthin' to you," the cowpuncher retorted, with a gesture of +hot impatience. + +"Ain't it? Wal, mebbe it ain't," Ju agreed imperturbably. "But y'see +it takes years an' years gettin' the value o' dollars right. I allow +ther's folks guesses dollars talks. Wal, I'm guessin' they just +_holler_. Make the wad big enough and ther' ain't nuthin' you can't +buy from a wheat binder to a royal princess with a crown o' jools. The +only thing you're li'ble to have trouble over is the things Natur' +fancies handin' you fer--nix. That an' hoss sense. That's pretty well +the world to-day, no matter what the sky-pilots an' Sunday-school +ma'ams dope out in their fancy literature. I know. You offer ten +thousand dollars for the hangin' of Lightfoot's gang, an', I say right +here, there ain't a feller in it from Lightfoot--if there is sech a +feller--down, who wouldn't make a grab at that wad by givin' the rest +of the crowd away. Makes you think, don't it? Sort o' worries them +empty think tanks o' yours." + +But Ju's satisfaction received an unexpected shaking. + +"Some wind," observed the slim, lonely drinker, in the blandest fashion. + +Ju was round on him in a flash, his walrus moustache bristling. + +"I'm listening," he said, with a calmness which belied his attitude. + +The other set his glass down on the counter with a bump. + +"If you're listening," he said, "you have probably understood what I +said. You're talking through a fog of cynicism which seems to obscure +an otherwise fairly competent intellect. You've plundered so many +innocents in your time by purveying an excessive quantity of bluestone +disguised under the name of alcohol that your overweening conceit has +entirely distorted your perspective till you fancy that your own dregs +of human nature constitute the human nature of all the rest of the +world, who would entirely resent being classed as your fellows. In a +word you need physic, Ju." + +The speaker laughed amiably, and his smile revealed the weakness which +was pointed by the signs of debauchery in his good-looking face. Ju +eyed him steadily. The offense of his words was mitigated by his +manner, but Ju resented the laugh which went round the entire room at +his expense. + +"See here, Bob Whitstone," he began, abandoning his glass wiping and +supporting himself on his counter, with his face offensively thrust in +his opponent's direction, "I ain't got the langwidge you seem to have +lapped up with your mother's milk. I don't guess any sucker paid a +thousand dollars a year for my college eddication so I could come out +here and grow a couple of old beeves and spend my leisure picklin' my +food depot in a low down prairie saloon. Therefor' I'll ask you to +excuse me if I talk in a kind o' langwidge the folks about here most +gener'ly understan'. Guess you think you know some. Maybe you figger +to know it all. Wal, get this. When you get back home jest stand in +front of a fi' cent mirror, if you got one in your bum shanty, an' get +a peek at your map, an' ask yourself--when you studied it well--if I +couldn't buy you, body an' soul, fer two thousand dollars--cash. I'd +sure hate slingin' mud at any feller's features, much less yours, +who're a good customer to me, but you're comin' the highbrow, an' you +got notions of honor still floatin' around in your flabby thinkin' +department sech as was handed you by the guys who ran that thousand +dollar college. Wal, ef you'll look at yourself honest, an' argue with +yourself honest, you'll find them things is sure a shadder of the past +which happened somew'eres before you tasted that first dose o' prairie +poison which has since become a kind o' habit. It ain't no use in +getting riled, Bob, it ain't no use in workin' overtime on that college +dictionary o' yours to set me crawlin' around among the spit boxes. +Fac's is fac's. Ken you hand me a list o' the things you--you who +ain't got two spare cents to push into the mission box, an' who'd +willingly sleep in a hog pen if it weren't for a dandy wife who'd got +no more sense than to marry you--wouldn't do if I was to hand you out a +roll of ten thousand dollars right now--cash? Tcha! You think. I +know." + +He turned away in a wave of contemptuous disgust. And as he did so a +harsh voice from the other end of the bar held him up. + +"What about me, Ju?" + +The tough-looking prairie man made his demand with a laugh only a shade +less harsh than his speaking voice. + +Ju stood. His desperate, keen face was coldly still as he regarded the +powerful frame of his challenger. Then his retort came swift and +poignant. + +"You, Sikkem? You'd allus _give_ yourself away. Get me?" + +The frigidity of the saloon-keeper's manner was over-powering. The man +called Sikkem was unequal in words to such a challenge. A flush slowly +dyed his lean cheeks, and an angry depression of the brows suggested +something passionate and forceful. Just for a moment many eyes glanced +in his direction. The saloon-keeper was steadily regarding him. There +was no suggestion of anger in his attitude, merely cat-like +watchfulness. Their eyes met. Then the cloud abruptly lifted from +Sikkem's brow, and he laughed with unsmiling, black eyes. The +saloon-keeper rinsed a glass and unconcernedly began to wipe it. + +The incident was allowed to pass. But it was the termination of the +discussion, a termination which left Ju victor, not because of the +rightness of his views, but because there was no man in Orrville +capable of joining issue with him in debate with any hope of success. +Action rather than words was the prevailing feature with these people, +and, in his way, Ju Penrose was equal, if not superior, not only in +debate, but in the very method these people best understood. + +A moment later Sikkem took his departure. + + * * * * * * + +It was well past midnight when the last man turned out of Ju's bar. +But the crowd had not yet scattered to their various homes. They were +gathered in a small, excited cluster gaping up at a big notice pasted +on the weather-boarding of the saloon-keeper's shack. Ju himself was +standing in their midst, right in front of the notice, which had been +indited in ink, evidently executed with a piece of flat wood. He was +holding up a lantern, and every eye was carefully, and in many +instances laboriously, studying the text inscribed. + +It was a notice of reward. A reward of ten thousand dollars for +information leading to the capture of the gang of cattle thieves known +as the "Lightfoot gang." And it was signed by Dug McFarlane on behalf +of the Orrville Rancher's Vigilance Committee. + +"Guess Ju knowed after all," somebody observed, in a confidential tone +to his neighbor. + +But Ju's ears were as long and sharp as his tongue. He flashed round +on the instant, his lantern lowered from the level of the notice board. +There was a sort of cold triumph in his manner as his eyes fell upon +the speaker. + +"Know'd?" he cried sharply. "Ain't 'knowin'' my business? Psha!" His +contempt was withering. Then his manner changed back to the triumph +which the notice had inspired. "Say, it's a great piece of money. It +surely is some bunch. Ten thousand dollars! Gee! His game's up. +Lightfoot's as good as kickin' his heels agin the breezes. He's played +his hand, an'--lost." + +And somehow no one seemed inclined to add to his statement. Nor, which +was much more remarkable, contradict it. Now that these men had seen +the notice with their own eyes the force of all Ju had so recently +contended came home to them. There was not one amongst that little +gathering who did not realize the extent of the odds militating against +the rustlers. Ten thousand dollars! There was not a man present who +did not feel the tremendous power of such a reward. + +The gathering melted away slowly, and finally Bob Whitstone was left +alone before the gleaming sheet of paper, with Ju standing in his +doorway. The lantern was at his feet upon the sill. His hands were +thrust in the tops of his shabby trousers. He was regarding the +"gentleman" rancher meditatively, and his half burnt cigar glowed under +the deep intake of his powerful lungs. + +"It's a dandy bunch, Bob, eh?" he demanded presently, in an ironical +tone. "Guess I'd come nigh sellin' my own father fer--ten thousand +dollars. An' I don't calc'late I'd get nightmare neither." Then he +drew a deep breath which suggested regret. "But--it ain't comin' my +way. No. Not by a sight." Then, after a watchful pause, he +continued: "I'm kind o' figgerin' whose way. Not mine, or--yours. Eh, +Bob? We could do with it. Pity, ain't it?" + +Bob turned. His eyes sought the face in the shadow of the doorway. + +"I'm no descendant of Judas," he said coldly. + +"No. But--Judas didn't sell a gang of murdering cattle rustlers. That +ain't Judas money." + +"Maybe. But it's blood money all the same." + +"Mighty bad blood that oughter be spilt." + +Bob turned away. His gaze wandered out westward. Then his eyes came +slowly back to the man in the door-way. + +"You thought I was talking hot air just now--about a man's price. You +didn't like it. Well, when I find myself with a price I hope I shan't +live to be paid it. That's all." + +The man in the doorway shook his head. Then he spoke slowly, +deliberately. And somehow much of the sharpness had gone out of his +tone, and the hard glitter of his steely eyes had somehow become less +pronounced. + +"Oh, I guess I got your meanin' right, fer all yer thousand dollar +langwidge. Sure, I took you right away. But--it don't signify a cuss +anyways. Guess you was born a gentleman, Bob, which I wa'an't. An' +because you was born an' raised that-a-way you'd surely like to kep +right hold o' the notion that folks ken still act as though they'd been +weaned on talk of honor an' sichlike. I sez kep a holt on that notion. +Grip it tight, an' don't never let go on it. Grab it same as you would +the feller that's yearnin' fer your scalp. If you lose your grip that +tow-colored scalp of yours'll be raised sure, an' every penicious +breeze that blows 'll get into your think depot and hand you every sort +of mental disease ther' ain't physic enough in the world to cure. +Guess that's plumb right. It don't cut no ice what I think. A feller +like me jest thinks the way life happens to boost him. Y'see, I ain't +had no thousand dollar eddication to make me see things any other ways. +Life's a mighty tough proposition an' it can't be run on no schedule, +an' each feller's got to travel the way he sees with his own two eyes. +If he's got the spectacles of a thousand dollar eddication he's an +a'mighty lucky feller, an' I'm guessin' they'll help him dodge a whole +heap o' muck holes he'd otherwise bury his silly head in. So hang on, +boy. Grip them darn fool notions so they ain't got a chance. If you +let go--wal, you'll get a full-sized peek into a pretty fancy sort o' +hell wher' ther' ain't any sort o' chance o' dopin' your visions out o' +sight with Ju Penrose's belly wash. So long." + +Ju picked up his lantern and turned back into his bar, closing and +securing his door behind him. Then, with keen anticipation and +enjoyment, he approached his till and proceeded to count his day's +takings. + + * * * * * * + +Bob Whitstone unhitched his horse from Ju's tying post. He swung +himself into the saddle and rode away,--away toward his outland home +under the starlit roof of the plains. It was an almost nightly journey +with him now, for the saloon habit had caught him in its toils, and was +already holding him firmly. + +His mood was not easy. He resented Ju Penrose. He resented all men of +his type. He knew him for a crook. He believed he possessed no more +conscience than any other habitual criminal. But his resentment was +the weak echo of an upbringing which had never intended him for such +association, and, in spite of it, the man's personality held him, and +its strength dominated him. + +His way took him out across an almost trackless waste of rich +grass-land. Somewhere out there, hidden away at the foot of the +Cathills, lay his homestead, and the wife for whom he had abandoned all +that his birth had entitled him to. During the past two years he had +learned truly all that he had sacrificed for the greatest of all dreams +of youth. + +But these things, for the moment, were not in his mind. Only Penrose. +Ju Penrose, whom he had learned to detest and despise out of the +educated mind that was his. The man's final homily was entirely lost +upon Bob. Such was his temper that only the gross outrages against the +precepts of his youth remained. He only heard the hateful, detestable +cynicism, brutally expressed. It was something curious how he only +took note of these things, and missed the rough solicitude of Ju's +final admonishment. But he was young and weak, and a shadow of +bitterness had entered his life, which, at his age, should have found +no place in it. + +The miles swept away under his horse's hoofs. Already the township, +that sparse little oasis of shelter in a desert of grass-land, lay lost +behind him in the depths of some hidden trough in the waves of the +prairie ocean, The great yellow disc of the moon had cut the horizon +and lit his tracks, but its light was still unrevealing and only added +charm to the blaze of summer jewels which adorned the soft velvet of +the heavens. + +He glanced back. But almost instantly his eyes were turned again +ahead. The night scene of these plains was too familiar to him to +excite interest. To him there were simply miles intervening between +him and the slumbers he was seeking. The prairie, for all its +beauties, spelt toilful days and bitter disappointment for him. +Wherein then should be discovered its charms? + +Again his mind settled itself upon the events of the evening. Price? +Price? Every man, he had been told, had his price. Every man and +woman. He uttered a sound. It might have been a laugh, but it lacked +mirth. It startled his alert horse. It almost seemed to startle the +quiet night itself. What was his price? All he knew about price was +its payment. He had only been called upon to pay. And he had paid! +My God, he had paid! All that had been his. All the wealth, the +comfort, the luxury and prospects which had been his in his wealthy +father's home, had been the price he had paid for the right, which was +the right of every man, to choose for himself, and to take to himself +and to wife, the woman who seemed to him to be the one creature in the +world who could yield him the happiness which alone was worth while. + +This talk of a man's price only enraged him the more. He viciously +detested Ju Penrose, and all such creatures who walked the world. + +Well, the reward was out. Time would show. If it failed to find the +Judas he would remind Ju. Oh, yes, he would remind him. He would wait +his time for the reminder. He would wait till the saloon was full, and +then--then he would open out his batteries. Men were of---- + +What was that? + +He had pulled his horse up with a swift tightening of his hand. Now +the beast stood with head erect, and pricked ears firmly thrust +forward. Its head was turned southward, and the gush of its distended +nostrils warned its rider that his question was shared by a creature +whose instincts were even more acute, here, on the prairie, than those +of its human master. + +Bob bent down in the saddle the better to obtain the silhouette of the +sky-line. The sound which had held him came up on the southern night +breeze. It was a low murmur, or rumble, and, to his accustomed ears, +it suggested the speeding of hoofs over the green clad earth. He +waited for many moments, but the sound only increased. There was no +doubt left in his mind now. None at all. + +He sat up again and glanced swiftly about him. The moonlight had +increased, and a silver sheen threw up the surrounding scene into +indistinct relief. Beyond, to his right, he detected a small patch of +scrub and spruce, and, without a second thought, he made for it. + +A minute later he was out of the saddle beside his horse, screened from +view of the plains by a belt of bush. He secured his horse and moved +to the fringe of his shelter. Here he took up a position facing south, +and his view of the plains beyond became uninterrupted. + +He knew what was coming. Instinct warned him. Perhaps even it was the +wish fathering his belief. He felt it was a certainty that the +rustlers were out pursuing their depredations with their customary +unchallenged daring. Who, he wondered, was the present victim, and +what was the extent of the raid? + +He had not long to wait. The sound grew. It lost its distant +continuity and became broken into the distinct hoof beats of large +numbers. Furthermore, by the sound of it, they would pass right across +his front. He had been wise in seeking cover. Had he remained---- + +But speculation gave way before the interest of movement. Now the +silhouette of the sky-line was dancing before his eyes. In the +moonlight he could clearly make out the passing of a driven herd. It +came on, losing itself in the shadows of a distant trough. Again it +appeared. More distinct now. He whistled under his breath. They were +coming from the direction of Dug McFarlane's and it was a large herd. +They were traveling northwest, which would cut into the hills away to +the north of his homestead. They---- + +But they were almost abreast of him now, and he heard the voices of men +urging and cursing. Lower he dropped toward the earth the better to +ascertain the numbers. But his estimate was uncertain. There were +moments when the herd looked very large. There were moments when it +looked less. He felt that a conservative estimate would be one hundred +perhaps, and some eight or ten men driving them. + +They were gone as they had come, lumbering rapidly, and as they passed +northward the southern breeze carried the sound away. It died out +quickly, and for minutes longer than was needed he stood listening, +listening. Then, at last, he turned back to his horse. + +In the two years of his sojourn on the land it was the first time he +had witnessed the operation of the Lightfoot gang, and it left a deep +impression upon his mind. A great resentment rose up in him. It was +the natural temper of a man who is concerned, in however small a +degree, in the cattle industry. And his anger urged him to a greater +speed for home, and a greater sympathy for the man who was prepared to +accept the Judas money offered for the lives of this gang of criminals. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +TRAILING THE "BLACK TAIL" + +The woman started. She threw up her head. Her wide eyes, wonderful +and dark, searched the deep aisles of the shaded pine woods about her. +Her hair hung loosely in a knot at the nape of her neck, and its +intensely dark masses made an exquisite framing for the oval of the +handsome face beneath the loose brim of wide prairie hat. + +The stillness of these wooded slopes of the Cathills was profound. +They possessed something of the solemnity belonging to the parent range +of the Rockies beyond. For they were almost primeval. The woman might +have belonged to them, her dark beauty so harmonized with its +surroundings. Yet for all her coloring, for all the buckskin she wore +for upper garment, there was nothing in her nature of the outlands +which now claimed her. She was of the cities. She was bred and +nurtured in the civilized places. The life about her was another life. +It was crude and foreign to her. It claimed her by force of +circumstance against every instinct and emotion. + +Her searching ceased, and her eyes fixed their steady regard upon a +gray-brown object moving amongst the myriad of black stanchions which +supported the tousled roof of melancholy green foliage above her. With +an almost imperceptible movement one buckskin clad arm reached slowly +out toward the small sporting rifle which leaned against an adjacent +tree-trunk. Her whole poise was tense and steady. There was in her +attitude that hard decision which one associates only with the +experienced hunter. There was almost too much decision in a woman so +obviously young. + +The weapon was drawn toward her. For one brief moment it was laid +across her lap upon the paper-covered book she had been reading. Then +its butt found its way to a resting place against her soft shoulder. +Not for an instant had her gaze been diverted from the moving object. +Now, however, her head inclined forward, and her warm cheek was laid +against the cool butt. The sights of the weapon were brought up into +line. The pressure of her forefinger was increased upon the trigger. +There was a sharp report followed by a swift rush of scampering hoofs +amongst the brittle pine cones and needles which carpeted the twilit +woods. Then, in a flash, all the tense poise gave way to considered +but rapid activity. + +The woman sprang to her feet. She was tall and straight as a willow. +Her rough canvas skirt was divided. Her buckskin shirt was fringed and +beaded. She made a picture of active purpose that belied her +femininity. In a moment she was in the saddle of the pony which had +been dozing a few yards away. Her rifle was slung upon one shoulder, +and her paper-covered book was thrust within the fastenings of her +shirt. She was hot in pursuit of the small black-tailed deer which her +shot had wounded. + +Effie bent low in the saddle which she rode astride. Her +well-accustomed pony twisted and turned, threading its way almost +miraculously through the labyrinth of bald tree-trunks. These +pot-hunts, which were of such frequent occurrence, were the recreation +which alone made life tolerable to its mistress. + +The woman saw only her quarry. For the rest she left the road to her +pony. With slack reins she leaned forward, carrying her featherweight +over the horn of the saddle. The woods meant nothing to her. The maze +of tree-trunks as they sped by conveyed no threat of danger. She was +concerned only with the obviously limping beast which was to provide +venison for the pot for the next two weeks to come. + +Her pony gained nothing upon the wounded deer. But it lost no distance +either. The scene changed and changed again. The woods yielded to +open grass, and again they merged into scattered scrub, through which +it was difficult to track their quarry. Up hill, down dale, over +hummock, through hollow. Once more through the dark aisles of aged +pine woods. And always northward. + +Time had no place in the woman's mind. Excitement, hope, doubt. These +occupied her to the full. And above all purpose reigned. + +Twice she drew up to within shot. But she refrained. She was herself +as breathless as her quarry, and the shot would probably have been +wasted. Besides, those pauses of the poor hunted beast carried their +own significance to her practised mind. Its limping was sore, and now +its stumblings were becoming more and more frequent. + +They had passed an open stretch, a mere cup surrounded by sharp-rising, +pine-clad hills. They entered woods on the northernmost slope, and +began a climb so severe that pursuer and pursued were brought to a +sheer scramble. The toil was terrific, but Effie's pony, bred of the +tough prairie fibre, clawed up with indomitable courage and endurance. +The deer kept its lead by desperate, agonizing effort, and the woman +knew that the summit would have exhausted its resources. + +On they went, on and up, the pace of both ever slackening. One hundred +yards only separated them now, and, with almost every stride, the +distance was lessening. The summit was in sight. The pony was blowing +hard. Effie urged him, and the vicious Mexican spurs found his flanks. +There was no thought of sparing in the girl's mind. If the broncho +failed her, then she must finish the chase on foot. + +Another fifty yards or so and the deer would have reached the summit. +Could she permit it? Dared she risk what lay beyond? If the open pine +woods continued she might, but--what lay beyond? + +Without further speculation she suddenly flung out of the saddle. Her +decision was taken. She dared not risk that summit with her pony now +rapidly failing. She must chance her own unsteadiness. The pursuit +had been hard and breathless. Well, she must trust to her nerve. + +She left her steaming pony and dropped on one knee. With all her mind +and will concentrated she drew a deep breath as the rifle was raised to +her shoulder. With a stern deliberation she leveled her sights and +fired. The spent deer stood, and shook, and then gazed round. There +was something dreadful in the appeal of its wistful attitude. For one +second the woman closed her eyes. Then they opened, and their beauty +was full of resolve. Again the rifle was at her shoulder. Again the +sights were leveled. Again the weapon spat out its vicious pellet. +This time the weapon was lowered for good, and the movement was +inspired by the sight of the deer. It quietly dropped upon its knees +and rolled over on its side. + +Ten minutes later the body of the deer was securely lashed to the back +of the saddle. There was no regret in the heart of the woman as her +practised fingers secured the warm body. It was game. Fair game, +brought down in open chase, and it would provide welcome change in the +monotonous diet of her home. Besides, the spirit of the hunter gripped +her soul. It was the only thing which made life endurable in these +drab outlands. + +At the summit of the hill she breathed a sigh of relief. Her judgment +and decision were amply proved. Nor in any uncertain fashion. The +woods ceased in a clean cut, such as is so frequently the case where +the pine world reigns. And rearing blankly before her gaze stood a +dense barrier of low and heavy green bush. It needed small enough +imagination to realize the security which lay in its depths for so +small a creature as a wounded deer. + +For some thoughtful moments Effie gazed upon the barrier. Then she +turned and surveyed her dejected pony. Again her decision was taken +without hesitation. She stooped and set a pair of hobbles about the +tired creature's pasterns, and, leaving him to his own devices, set off +to ascertain her whereabouts. + + * * * * * * + +But her movements were not without feminine curiosity, added to which +was the businesslike desire to familiarize herself with every foot of +the country within reach of her home. This was a break into new +territory. Time was small enough object to her, and, besides, her pony +needed time to recuperate from its leg weariness. + +It required less than ten minutes, however, to banish every other +thought from her mind and absorb it in amazement at her discovery. A +brief battle with a dense and obstinate scrub found her standing in the +centre of a wide sort of bridle path, scored with a dozen or so cattle +tracks crowded with the spurs of driven cattle. + +She stood gazing down at the signs everywhere about her in the loose +sand, dumbfounded at the sight. She knew there was no homestead or +ranch within miles of this region. Was she not bitterly aware that her +own home marked the fringe of the cattle world in this direction? + +Slowly there grew in the depths of her heart a feeling of apprehension. +The stillness, the remoteness, the tremendous solitude, and yet--those +tracks. + +She stood intent and listening. Her ears were straining for a sound. +But only there came to her the whispering breezes rustling the mournful +foliage of the pine woods behind her. Her eyes were raised to the +walls of scrub lining the roadway. They searched vainly for a sign. +There was none. Simply the riot of nature about her, and, at her feet, +those tracks. + +She moved. Then swiftly she passed across to the western side of the +roadway where the westering sun threw ample shadow. All unconsciously +it seemed her movements became almost furtive, furtive and rapid. She +passed down the bush-lined way, hugging the grassy edges to avoid +leaving trace of her footsteps in the sand. Understanding was with +her, and that understanding warned her of the jeopardy in which she +stood should her presence be advertised. + +Thought, speculation and imagination were a-riot in her now. She was +proceeding in the direction the broad cloven hoof marks indicated. +What--lay beyond? + +Many minutes passed. Breathless minutes of pulsing excitement for the +woman who knew only monotony and the drudgery of an outland life. No +womanish fears could deter her. She believed and hoped she was on the +eve of a great discovery, and such was her reckless desire that nothing +could deter her. + +The aspect of the scrub changed. It became dotted with taller trees. +The paler foliage of spruce reared itself, and, here and there, +isolated clumps of towering pines threw shadows across her path. Then +gaps broke up the continuity, but, even so, the view beyond to her left +was cut off by remoter growths. Once or twice she hazarded her way +into them in her search for information, but always she returned to the +broad track of the footprints of driven cattle. + +The pathway rose at a steep incline. It bent away to the right, and, +in the distance, it seemed that it must converge upon the sharp cut +edge of the great pine woods she had so recently left. With this +conclusion came another. The track must terminate abruptly or it must +pass back into the great pine bluff. + +The end, however, was neither of these things. And it was far nearer +than she had suspected. The path twisted back into the huge reverse of +an S, and finished abruptly at the sharp edge of a wide deep valley. + +It came upon her almost with a shock. The tracks had abruptly swung +westward. She rounded the bend, and, in a moment, found herself gazing +out over a wide valley from a dizzy height. + +Her first feeling was that the drop was sheer, precipitate. Then +realization superseded, and she flung herself full length upon the +ground and pressed her way into the shelter of an adjacent bush. The +path had not ended. It passed over the brink and continued its way +zigzagging down the terrific slope to the valley below. It was this, +and the sight of a distant spiral of smoke rising from below, which had +flung her into the shelter of the friendly bush. Her risk had only +been momentary, but even in that moment she had been silhouetted in +full view of any chance gaze below. + +She drew herself toward the edge of the drop. Just where she had flung +herself it was clean and sheer, and the bush overhung. Thus she was +left with a full view of the depths below. Her dark eyes dwelt upon +the zigzagging path. She followed its downward course to the green +plain. She tracked it across to the far side of the valley. Then she +drew a sharp breath, and her eyes widened. + +The telltale smoke rose from the heart of a woodland bluff, and near by +a large herd of cattle was grazing, watched over by three mounted men +whose horses were moving slowly over the bright green carpet of grass. + +She lay quite still, regardless of all but those moving figures, and +the dark green bluff. She was watching and waiting for she knew not +what. Her heart was thumping in her bosom, and her breath came +rapidly. There was no question in her mind. In a moment her whole +life seemed to have changed. The day had dawned to a contemplation of +the monotonous round of drudging routine, only to close with a thrill +such as she had never dreamed could be hers. + +The moments passed; rapid, poignant moments. The sun dipped lower +toward the alabaster crests of distant mountain peaks. The peace of +the scene suggested nothing of the turbulent thought a-riot behind her +wide, dark eyes. What must be done? What could she do--a woman? She +felt helpless--so helpless. And yet---- + +She raised herself upon her elbow and propped her soft cheek upon the +palm of her hand. She must think--think. The chance of it all. It +was so strange. There lay the secret revealed--the secret which every +rancher in the district for years had sought to discover. There was +the camp of the Lightfoot gang. She had discovered it, had discovered +its approach. Everything--she, a woman. + +What could she do with the secret? How could she---- She thought of +her husband. But somehow her enthusiasm lessened with the thought. +But she needed him. Yes. There was no room for any doubt on that +score. He must be roused, and convinced. He most be made to see the +importance and significance of her discovery, and they must turn it +to---- + +The crack of a rifle startled her. Almost on the instant the +whistling, tearing of a bullet sounded in the bush to the left of her. +Her glance was terrified as it turned in the direction. Then, in a +moment, she was crouching lower as she searched the valley away over by +the bluff. + +In an instant her nerves strung tight. A group of men were standing +just within its shadow, and the three horsemen, who had been riding +round the cattle, were racing directly toward the foot of the pathway +leading out of the valley. She must have been seen when she had stood +at the opening. And now---- + +But there was not a second to lose. She sprang to a crouching position +under the bush. Another shot rang viciously upon the still air. The +bullet tore its way through the bush. This time it was still wider of +her hiding place. But already she had begun her retreat--swiftly, and +crouching low. + +She reached the shelter of the barrier just as another bullet whistled +overhead. Then she set off at a run. + +And as she ran she calculated the chances. She had a big start, and +the horsemen had to face the zigzag climb. If she made no mistakes +there was little chance of their discovering her. They could never +make that climb before she reached her pony. + +She increased her pace. Her nerves were steadying. Strangely her +control was wonderful. There was no real fear in her--only tension. +Now as she ran down the open way her eyes were alert for every +landmark, and her woodcraft was sufficiently practised to stand her in +good stead. She recognized each feature in the path until she came to +the point where she had first entered it In a moment she was battling +her way through the thick bush, and the tension she was laboring under +took her through it in a fraction of the time her first traversing had +been made. Her pony was standing within ten yards of the spot at which +she had left him. + +She breathed a great relief. In a moment she had unbuckled the hobbles +on his forelegs. Then, with the habit of her life on the plains, she +tightened the cinchas of the saddle. Then she replaced the bit in its +mouth. + +As she swung herself into the saddle the distant plod of hoofs pounding +the cattle tracks reached her. For one instant she sat in doubt. +Then, with a half-thought fear lest her hard pursuit of the wounded +deer had left her tough broncho spent, she swung him about and vanished +like a ghost into the gloomy depths of the woods. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE WEAKER VESSEL + +The homestead rested upon the southern slope of a wood-crowned hill, +which was merely one of a swarm of hills of lesser or greater +magnitude. Westward, away in the distance, the silver sheen of the +main mountain range still continued to reflect the rainbow tints of a +radiant sunset. + +It was a homestead to associate with hands less than 'prentice. There +was neither imagination nor very definite purpose in its planning. It +rather gave the impression of the driving of sheer necessity than the +enthusiasm of effort toward the achievement of a heartily conceived +purpose. Furthermore, it bore evident signs of a desire to escape as +far as possible the burdens of the life it represented. + +The squalid two-roomed house was sunk into the backing to the sloping +hill. Its front and sides were of green logs and a mud plaster. Its +roof was of a primitive thatch, held secure from winter storms by +sapling logs lashed fast across it. The central doorway was filled by +a rough-boarded door, and the apertures left for added light were +covered with thin cotton material. They were left wide open in summer, +and in winter only served to shut out the worst of the driven snows and +most of the daylight. + +The adjacent barn was of far greater extent, but of considerably less +degree. Still, it was sufficiently weather-proof, which was all that +could be reasonably hoped for by the toughened creatures, who found +shelter beneath its crazy roof. Higher up the slope stood a couple of +corrals of sorts. Their position was at the southern extremity of the +woodland crown, their placing probably inspired by the adjacency of the +material required for their construction. + +Below the house stretched a sloping patch of growing wheat, perhaps +about thirty acres in extent. This was the real business of the +homestead, and, in spite of the crazy fencing of barbed wire about it, +it looked to be richly flourishing. + +For all the general ineffectiveness of the place, however, it was not +without significance. For it gave that human touch which at once +breaks up the overpowering sensation which never fails to depress in +the silent heart of Nature's immensity. It spoke of courage, too. The +reckless courage of early youth, plunging for the first time into +independence. Furthermore, it suggested something of the first great +sacrifice which the hot tide of love, surging through youthful veins, +is prepared to make for the object of its passionate regard. In any +case it symbolized the irresistible progress of man's effort when +pitted against the passive resistance of Nature's most fiercely rugged +frontiers. + +A wonderful harmonious peace reigned over the scene which was bathed in +the light of a drooping sun. It was the chastened pastoral peace, than +which there is no more perfect in the world. Cattle were grazing their +way homeward; the cows bearing their burden of laden udders to yield it +for the benefit and prosperity of the community; the steers lingering +at the banks of the murmuring mountain stream, or standing knee-deep in +its waters, their sleek sides sheathed in rolls of fat, only waiting to +yield up their humble lives as their contribution to the insatiable +demands of the dominant race. + +Two or three horses stood adjacent to the doorway of the humble barn, +patiently flickering their long, unkempt tails in a vain effort to ward +off the attacks of swarming flies. A few chickens moved about +drowsily, just outside the hutch which had been contrived for their +nightly shelter. While stretched upon the dusty earth, side by side, +lay two great rough-coated dogs slumbering their hours of watch and +ward away in the shade, with the indifference of creatures whose vain +hopes of battle have been all too long deferred. + +All of a sudden there came a partial awakening. + +Out of the west, down the slope of a neighboring hill came a figure on +horseback. It was moving at a rapid gallop. The horses at the barn +turned about and raised their heads watchfully. They whinnied at the +approach. The two dogs were on their feet startled into alertness, +vain hope rising once more in their fierce hearts. The hens cackled +fussily at the prospect of their deferred evening meal. The last of +the cattle ambled heavily from the water's edge. It was rather like +the obscure movement of a mainspring, setting into motion even the +remotest wheel of a mechanism. + +Effie galloped up to the house. Nothing of the gentle waking her +coming had inspired attracted her observation. Her handsome eyes were +preoccupied, and their gaze wandered back over the way she had come, +searching the distance with the minutest care. Finally she dismounted +and off-saddled, turning her pony loose to follow the promptings of its +own particular requirements. Then she set about releasing the carcase +of the deer upon her saddle, and bore it away to a lean-to shed at the +side of the house. Emerging therefrom she picked up her saddle and +bridle and took them into the house. Then she took up her stand within +the doorway and, once more, narrowly searched the surrounding hills +with eyes as eager and doubtful as they were beautiful. + +The calm of evening had settled once more upon the place. The peace of +it all was superlative. It was peace to which Effie was something more +than averse. She dreaded it. For all her two years of life in the +meagre home her husband had provided her with, it required all her +courage and fortitude to endure it. The hills haunted and oppressed +her, and her only hope lay in the active prosecution of her work. + +She breathed a profound sigh. There was relief in the expression of +her face. The drooping corners of her mouth and the tight compression +of her well-formed lips told their own story of her emotions. She had +passed through an anxious time, and only now was she beginning to feel +reassured. + +Yes. All was well, she believed. She had lost her pursuers, thanks to +the staunchness of her pony, and her knowledge of the country about +her. With another sigh, but this time one of weariness, she left her +doorway and moved over to the barn. There was still the dreary round +of "chores" to which her life seemed dedicated. + + * * * * * * + +A solitary horseman sat gazing out through a leafy barrier across the +narrow valley of the little mountain stream. His eyes were fixed upon +the dejected homestead on the slope of the hill beyond. He was +be-chapped, and carried the usual complement of weapons at his waist. +His horse was an unusually fine creature, and well up to the burden it +was called upon to bear. Nor was that burden a light one, for the man +was both massive and muscular. + +The watchful eyes were deep set in a mahogany-hued setting. It was a +hard face, brutal, and the eyes were narrow and cruel. + +For a long time he sat there regarding the homestead. He beheld the +graceful form of the woman as she moved swiftly about her work. +Judging from his expression, which was by no means pleasant, two +emotions were struggling for dominance. For some time doubt held chief +place, but slowly it yielded to some more animal emotion. Furthermore +temptation was urging him, and more than once he lifted his reins, +which became a sign of yielding. + +But all these emotions finally passed. It was evident that some even +stronger force was really governing him. For, with a sharp ejaculation +that conveyed every feeling suggested by disappointment, he swung his +horse about and galloped off in a southeasterly direction--toward +Orrville. + + * * * * * * + +It was past midnight. Effie, flushed with an unusual excitement, was +gazing up into her husband's face. She was listening almost +breathlessly to the story he was telling her. The little living-room, +more than half kitchen, was bathed in the yellow light of a small tin +kerosene lamp. For the time at least her surroundings, the poverty and +drudgery of her life, were forgotten in the absorbing feelings +consuming her. + +"I tell you, Effie, I was scared--plumb scared when I saw what it was," +Bob Whitstone ended up. "Guess we've known long enough the whole +blamed countryside is haunted by cattle rustlers, but--that's the first +time I've seen 'em, and I guess it's the first time any one's seen 'em +at work. Say, I'm not yearning for the experience again." + +But Effie had no interest beyond his story. His feelings on the matter +of his experience were of no concern whatever at the moment. There +were other things in her mind, things of far greater import. She +returned to the rocker chair, which was the luxury of their home, and +sat down. There was one thing only in Bob's story which mattered to +her just now. + +"Ten thousand dollars," she murmured. "_Ten thousand_! It's +a--fortune." + +Bob moved across to a rough shelf nailed upon the wall and picked up a +pipe. + +"A bit limited," he observed contemptuously, as poured some tobacco +dust into the bowl. + +"I was thinking of--ourselves." + +The man ceased his operation to gaze swiftly down upon the gently +swaying figure in the chair. + +"What d'you mean, Effie?" he demanded sharply. + +The girl's steady eyes were slowly raised in answer to the challenging +tone. They met her husband's without a shadow of hesitation. + +"It sounds like a fortune to me, who have not handled a dollar that I +could spend without careful thought--for two years," she declared with +warmth. + +Bob completed the filling of his pipe. He did not answer for a few +moments, but occupied himself by lighting it with a reeking sulphur +match. + +"That's a pretty hard remark," he said at last, emitting heavy clouds +of smoke between his words. + +"Is it? But--it's just plain facts." + +"I s'pose it is." + +The girl had permitted her gaze to wander. It passed from her +husband's face to the deplorable surroundings which she had almost +grown accustomed to, but which now stood out in her mind with an added +sense of hopelessness. The lime-wash over the cracked and broken +plaster which filled the gaps between the logs of the walls. The +miserable furnishing, much of it of purely home manufacture, thrown up +into hideous relief by the few tasteful knickknacks which had been +wedding presents from her intimate friends and relatives in the east. +The earthen floor, beaten hard and kept scrupulously swept by her own +hands. The cook-stove in the corner, with its ill-set stovepipe +passing out of a hole in the wall which had been crudely covered with +tin to keep out the draughts in winter. The drooping ceiling of cotton +material, which sagged in great billows under the thatch of the roof. +It was all deplorable to a woman who had known the comfort of an almost +luxurious girlhood. Into her eyes crept a curious light. It was half +resentful, half triumphant. It was wholly absorbed. + +"Suppose? There's no supposition," she cried bitterly. "I have had +the experience of it all, the grind. Maybe you don't know what it is +to a woman, a girl, to find herself cut off suddenly from all the +little luxuries she has always been used to. I don't mean +extravagances. Just the trifling refinements which count for so much +in a young woman's life. The position is possible, so long as the hope +remains of their return later, perhaps fourfold. But when that hope no +longer exists--I guess there's nothing much else that's worth while." + +The man continued to smoke on for some silent moments. Then, as the +girl, too, remained silent, he glanced at her out of the corners of his +eyes. + +"You gave up a good deal for me--for this," he said in gentle protest. +"But you did it with your eyes open--I mean, to the true facts of my +position. Say, Effie, I didn't hold you up for this thing. I laid +every card on the table. My father threatened us both, to our faces, +if we persisted in marrying. Well, I guess we persisted, and he--why, +he just handed us what he promised--the dollars that bought us +this--farm. That was all. It was the last cent he figured to pass our +way. You know all that, and you never squealed--then. You knew what +was in store. I mean--this." He flung out one arm in a comprehensive +gesture. "You guessed you'd grit enough to face it--with me. We hoped +to win out." Then he smiled. "Say, I guess I haven't given up a +thing--for you, eh? I haven't quit the home of millionaire father +where my year's pocket money was more than the income of seventy per +cent. of other folks! I, too, did it for this--and you. Won't you +stick it for me?" + +The man's appeal was spoken in low earnest tones His eyes were gentle. +But the girl kept hers studiously turned from his direction, and it was +impossible for him to read that which lay behind them. + +Again some silent moments passed. The girl was gently rocking herself. +At last, however, she drew in her feet in a nervous, purposeful +movement, and sat forward. + +"Bob," she exclaimed, and now there were earnestness and kindness in +the eyes that gazed up at the man, "it's no use for us to talk this +way," she cried. "I began it, and I ought to be sorry--real sorry. +But I'm not. I wouldn't have acted that way under ordinary +circumstances. But it's different now, and it was your own talk made +me. You sneered at that ten thousand dollars, which seems to be a +fortune to me. Ten thousand dollars!" she breathed. "And we haven't +ten dollars between us in this--house. Bob, it makes me mad when I +think of it. You don't care. You don't worry. All yon care for is to +get away from it all--from me--and spend your time among the boys in +Orrville. You've been away ever since dinner to-day, and now it's past +midnight. Why? Why, when there's a hundred and one things to do +around this wretched shanty? No--you undertake this thing, and +then--spend every moment you can steal--yes, that's the word--steal, +hanging around Ju Penrose's saloon. I'm left to fix things right +here--to do the work which you have undertaken. Then you sneer when I +see a fortune in that ten thousand dollars reward." + +The girl's swift heat was not without effect. She had not intended to +accuse in so straight a fashion. It was the result of long pent-up +bitterness, which never needs more than a careless word to hurl into +active expression. Bob's mild expression of contempt looked to be +about to cost him dear. + +A moody look not untouched with some sort of fear had crept into the +man's eyes. Now he tried to smooth the threat of storm he saw looming. +Furthermore, an uncomfortable feeling of his own guilt was possessing +him. + +"But what if it can be called a fortune, Effie?" he demanded swiftly. +"It don't concern us. I don't guess it's liable to come our way." + +"Why not?" + +The girl's challenge came short and sharp, and her beautiful eyes were +turned upon him full of cold regard. + +The man was startled. He was even shocked. + +"How?" he demanded. "I don't get you." + +The girl sprang from her chair in a movement of sup-pressed excitement. +She came toward him, her eyes shining. A glorious ruddy tint shone +through the tanning of her fair cheeks. She was good to look at, and +Bob felt the influence of her beauty at that moment just as he had felt +it when, for her, he had first flung every worldly consideration to the +four winds. + +"Will you listen, Bob? Will you listen to me while I tell you all +that's been churning around in my head ever since you told me of that +reward? You must. You shall. I have lived through a sort of +purgatory in these hills for too long not to make my voice heard +now--now when there's a chance of making our lives more tolerable. Oh, +I've had a day while you've been away. It's been a day such as in my +craziest moments I've never even dreamed of. Bob, I've discovered what +they've all been trying to discover for years. I've found Lightfoot's +camp!" + +"And then?" + +The girl's enthusiasm left her husband caught in a wave of +apprehension. He saw with a growing sense of horror the meaning of +that sudden revolt. This was displayed in his manner. Nor was Effie +unobservant of it. Nor unresentful. + +She shrugged her perfect shoulders with assumed unconcern. + +"That reward--those ten thousand dollars are mine--ours--if I choose. +And--I do choose." + +There was no mistaking the firmness, the decision in her final words. +They came deliberate and hard, and they roused the man to prompt and +sharp denial. + +"You--do--not." + +He was no longer propped against the table. He was no longer gentle. +He stood erect and angry, and their regard was eye to eye. But even so +there was no disputing the woman's dominance of personality. The man's +eyes, for all their anger, conveyed not a tithe of the other's +decision. His whole attitude was subjective to the poise of the +woman's beautiful head, her erect, sculptured shoulders. Her measuring +eyes were full of a fine revolt. There was nothing comparable between +them--except their anger. + +"Who can stop me? You?" + +The scornful challenge rang sharply through the little room. Then a +silence fraught with intense moment followed upon its heels. + +The man nodded. His movement was followed by Effie's mocking laugh. + +Perhaps Bob realized the uselessness, the danger of retaining such an +attitude. Perhaps his peculiar nature was unequal to the continuous +effort the position called for. In a moment he seemed to shrink before +those straight gazing eyes, and the light of purpose behind them. When +he finally spoke a curious, almost pleading tone blended with the +genuine horror in his words. + +"No, no, Effie, you can't--you daren't!" he cried passionately. "Do +you know what you're doing? Do you know what that reward means to +you--to us? Look at your hands. They're clean, and soft, and white. +Say, girl, that's blood money, blood money that'll surely stain them +with a crimson you'll never wash off 'em all your life. It's blood +money. Man's blood. Human blood. Just the same as runs through our +veins. Oh, say, girl, I've no sort of use for rustlers. They're +crooks, and maybe murderers. Guess they're everything you can think +of, and a sight more. But they're men, and their blood's hot, warm +blood the same as yours and mine. And you reckon to chaffer that blood +for a price. You're going to sell it--for a price. You're going to do +more. Yes. You're going to wreck a woman's conscience for life for +those filthy, blood-soaked dollars. The price? Effie, things are +mighty hard with us. Maybe they're harder with you than me. But I +just can't believe we've dropped so low we can sell the life blood of +even a--murderer. I can't believe it. I just can't. That's all. +Tell 'em, Effie. Tell 'em all you know and have discovered if you +will. Tell 'em in the cause of justice. But barter your soul and +conscience for filthy blood money--I--bah! It makes me turn sick to +think that way." + +But Effie was in no mood to listen to the dictates of squeamish +principles from a man who lacked the spirit and power--the will to +raise her out of the mire of penury into which he had helped to plunge +her. The hours of dreary, hopeless labor; the weeks and months of +dismal and grinding poverty had sunk deeply into her soul. No price +was too high to pay to escape these things. In a moment her reply was +pouring forth in a passionate torrent. + +"Blood money?" she cried. "Bob, you're crazier than I'd have thought. +Where's the difference? I mean between handin' these folks over to +justice for justice sake, and taking the reward the folks who're most +to benefit by it are ready to hand out to me? Say, you can't talk that +way, Bob. You can't just do it. Aren't the folks who carry out the +justice in the land paid for it--from the biggest judge to the fellow +who handles the levers of the electric chair? Doesn't the country hand +out thousands of dollars every year for the punishment of offenders, +whether it's for the shedding of their life blood, or merely their +heart's blood in the cruel horrors of a penitentiary? Do you think I'm +going to hand out my secret to a bunch of cattlemen for their benefit +and profit, and reap no comfort from it for myself in the miserable +life I'm condemned to endure? Your scruples are just crazy. They're +worse. They're selfish. You'd rather see me drudging all the best +moments of my life away, so you can lounge around Ju Penrose's saloon +spending dollars you've no right to, than risk your peace of mind on an +honest--yes, _honest_--transaction that's going to give me a little of +the comfort that you haven't the grit to help me to yourself." + +The girl was carried away with the force of her own purpose and +craving. Every word she said was meant from the bottom of her soul. +There was not a shadow of yielding. She had no illusions. For two +years her heart had been hardening to its present condition, and she +would not give up one tittle of the chance that now opened out before +her hungry eyes. + +Bob was clay in her hands. He was clay in any hands sufficiently +dominating. He knew from the moment he had delivered his appeal, and +he had heard only the tones of her reply, that it was he who must yield +or complete irrevocably the barrier which had been steadily growing up +between them. Just for a moment the weakly, obstinate thought had +occurred of flinging everything to the winds and of denying her once +more with all the force at his command. But the moment passed. It +fled before the charm of her presence, and the memory of the loved +which he was incapable of shutting out of his heart. He knew he was +right, and she was utterly wrong. But he knew, equally well, from her +words and attitude, that it was he who must give way, or---- + +He shook his head with a negative movement which Effie was quick enough +to realize meant yielding. She wanted him to yield. It would simplify +all her purpose. She desired that he should participate in the +transaction. + +"You'll regret it, Effie," he said, in his usual easy tones. "You'll +regret it so you'll hate to think of this moment all the rest of your +life. It's not you talking, my dear, it's just--the experience you've +had to go through. Can't you see? You've never been like this before. +And it isn't you. Say, I'd give my right hand it you'd quit the whole +thing." + +But the girl's resolution was unwavering. + +"You--still refuse--to countenance it?" she demanded. + +Again Bob shook his head. But now he moved away and struck a match to +relight his pipe. + +"No," he said. Then he slowly puffed out great clouds of smoke. "No, +my dear, if you're bent on it." Then he moved to the cook-stove and +supported one foot upon it. + +"Say--you guess I'm selfish. You guess I haven't acted as I ought to +help push our boat along. You reckon I've become a sort of +saloon-loafing bum. Guess you sort of think I'm just about the limit. +Well, maybe I'm nothing to shriek about. However, I've told you all I +feel. I've told you what you're going to feel--later. Meanwhile it's +up to me to help you all I know. Tell me the whole thing, and I'll do +the business for you. I'll see Dug McFarlane for you, and fix things. +But it's on one condition." + +"What is it?" + +Something of the coldness had passed from the girl's eyes. She was +smiling because she had achieved her purpose. + +"Why--just this. That I don't touch one single dollar of the price +you're to receive for those poor devils' blood. That's all." + +Just for a moment a dull flush surged up under the tan of the girl's +cheeks, and her eyes sparkled ominously. Then she returned to her +rocker with great deliberation. + +"You're crazy, Bob," she said frigidly, but without any other display. +"Still--just sit around, and--I'll tell you it all." + +And while the man listened to the story of his wife's adventures his +mind went back to the scene in Ju Penrose's saloon, and the denial he +had flung so heatedly at that philosophic cynic. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE HANGING BEE + +Dug McFarlane was a picturesque creature. He was big in height and +girth. He was also big in mind. And, which was much more important to +the people of the Orrville ranching world, big in purse. He was +grizzled and gray, and his eyes beamed out of a setting which was +surely made for such beaming; a setting which possessed no sharp angles +or disfiguring hollows, but only the healthy tissue of a well-nourished +and wholesome-living man in middle life. + +As he sat his horse, beside his station foreman, gazing out at the +broken line of foothills which marked the approach to the barrier of +mountains cutting against the blue, he seemed to display in his bearing +something of that dominating personality which few successful men are +entirely without. All about them lay the heavy-railed corrals of a +distant out-station. Just behind stood the rough shanty, which was the +bunkhouse for the cowhands employed in this region. The doctor was +still within, tending the grievously injured man who had been so badly +wounded in the previous night's raid by the rustlers. + +For the time Dug's beaming eyes were shadowed with a concern that was +half angry and wholly depressed. They searched the rolling grass-land +until the distance was swallowed up by the barrier of hills. He was +seeking one reassuring glimpse of the black, hornless herd whose +pastures these were. But only disappointment met him on every side. +The beautiful, sleek, Aberdeen-Angus herd, which was his joy and pride, +had vanished. They had gone, he knew. They had gone the same way +that, during the last five years, hundreds of head of his stock had +gone. It was the last straw. + +"Say, Lew Hank," he said, in a voice of something approaching an +emotion he possessed no other means of displaying, "it's beat me bad. +It's beat me so bad I don't seem able to think right. We'd a hundred +head running on this station. As fine a bunch as ever were bred from +the old country's strain. I just feel that mad I could set right in to +break things." + +Then, after a long pause during which the station foreman waited silent: + +"And only last night, while these guys was raising the mischief right +here, I was setting around doping out big talk, and raising a mighty +big wad for the round-up of the whole darnation gang. Can you beat it? +I'm sore. Sore as hell. Say, tell it me again. I don't seem to have +it clear." + +He passed one great muscular hand across his moist forehead, and the +gesture was rather one of helplessness. + +Lew Hank regarded him with measuring eyes. He knew him so well. In +the ten years and more he had worked for him he had studied his every +mood. This phase in the great cattleman's character was something new, +something rather startling. Dug's way was usually volcanic. It was +hot and fierce for a while, generally to hollowed by a hearty laugh, +rather like the passing of a summer storm. But this, in Lew's opinion, +was a display of weakness. A sign he neither liked nor respected. The +truth was Dug McFarlane had been hit in a direction of which his +subordinate had no understanding. That herd of Aberdeen-Angus cattle +had been his plaything. His hobby. He had been devoted to it in a way +that would have been absurd to any one but a cattleman. Hank decided +this unaccustomed weakness must be nipped in the bud. + +"Say, boss, it ain't no use in squealin'," he grumbled, in the hard +tones of a man who yields to no feelings of sympathy. His +weather-stained face was set and ugly in its expression. "Wher's the +use in it anyway?" he demanded. "Get a look around. There's miles of +territory, an' all of it runs into them blamed hills. I got three boys +with me. They're right boys, too. I don't guess there's a thing you +or me could tell 'em 'bout their work. Not a thing. Day and night one +of 'em's on grazin' guard. Them beasties ain't never left to trail off +into the hills. Wal, I guess that's all we ken do--sure. Say, you +can't hold up a gang of ten an' more toughs with a single gun in the +dead, o' night, 'specially with a hole in your guts same as young +Syme's had bored into his. I ain't ast once, nor twice, to hev them +beasties run into the corrals o' nights, and fed hay, same as in +winter. I've ast it fifty times. It's bin up to you, boss. So I say +it's no use in squealin'." + +Hank spat over his horse's shoulder, and his thin lips closed with a +snap. He was a lean forceful prairieman who possessed, as he would +himself have said, no parlor tricks. Dug McFarlane, for all his +wealth, for all he had been elected president of the Western Union +Cattle Breeders' Association three years in succession, was no more to +him than any other employer who paid wages for work loyally performed. + +Dug regarded his foreman with close attention. He ignored the man's +rough manner. But, nevertheless, it was not without effect. + +"And the other boys?" + +"Was dead asleep in the bunkhouse--same as me. What 'ud you have? +They ain't sheep dogs." + +Dug took no umbrage. + +"And they're out on the trail--right now?" + +"Sure. Same as we should be, 'stead o' wastin' hot air around here. +Say, I guess you're feelin' sore. But I don't guess your feelin's is a +circumstance to mine, boss. You ain't bin beat to your face by this +lousy gang. I have. An' say, I'm yearnin'--jest gaspin'--to wipe out +the score. I don't sort o' care a bit for your loss. That ain't my +funeral. But they've beat me plumb out--same as if I was some sucker +who ain't never roped an' branded a three-year-old steer since I was +pupped. Are you comin' along? They struck out northwest. We got +that, an' the boys is follerin' hard on their trail. It'll be better'n +squealin' around here." + +There could be no doubt about the man's feelings. They were displayed +in every word he spoke. In every glance of his fierce eyes. Dug +approved him. His manners were nothing. Lew was probably the most +capable cattleman in his service. + +He was about to follow his foreman who had swung his horse about to set +off northward, when he abruptly flung out an arm, pointing. + +"That one of your boys--coming in? Maybe----" + +Lew screwed up his eyes in the sunlight. His rep came in a moment. + +"Maybe--nuthin'. That ain't one of my boys." Then, after a brief, +considering pause, in which he narrowly examined the distant horseman's +outfit: "Sort o' rec'nize him, too. Likely he's that bum guy with the +dandy wife way up on Butte Creek. Whitstone, ain't it? Feller with +swell folks way down east, an' who guesses the on'y sort o' farmin' +worth a cuss is done in Ju Penrose's saloon. That's him sure," he +added, as the man drew nearer. Then he went on musingly. "I guess +he's got a lot to dope out. Say, them guys must have passed near by +his shanty." + +Bob Whitstone reined his pony up with a jerk. He was on a mission that +inspired no other emotion than that of repulsion and self-loathing. +And these things found reflection in his good-looking face. + +He glanced swiftly from one to the other as he confronted the burly +rancher and his station foreman. The latter he did not know, nor was +he interested in him. The man he had come to see was Dug McFarlane, +who claimed from him, as he did from every man in the district, +something in the nature of respect. + +"Guess you'll remember me, sir," he began, in his easy, refined tones. +"My name is Whitstone--Bob Whitstone. You granted me certain grazing +rights awhile back. It was some two years ago. Maybe you'll remember. +You did it to help me out. Anyway, I came over to see you this morning +because--I must. If you can spare half an hour I want to see you +privately. It's--important. You've been robbed last night, and--it's +about them. The gang, I mean." + +His pony was still blowing. Bob had ridden hard. He had first ridden +into Orrville, and then followed the rancher out here. He was leaning +over in the saddle lounging upon the horn of it. His eyes were gazing +curiously, speculatively at the figure of the man who ruled the local +cattle industry. He was calculating in his own way what might be the +effect of the news he had to impart. What estimate this big man--and +Bob knew him to be a big man--would have of him when he had told his +news and claimed the--blood money? With each moment he shrank smaller +and smaller in his own estimation. + +Dug regarded him steadily. + +"You've got news of them?" + +Bob nodded, and glanced meaningly in the direction of Lew Hank. + +"I've seen 'em. But--it's more than that." + +The rancher turned quickly upon his foreman. + +"Say, just get along into the shack there, and see how the Doc's making +with young Syme. I need a talk with Whitstone." + +It was not without obvious and resentful reluctance that Lew Hank +withdrew. Even his hardihood, however, was unequal to resisting so +direct an order from his chief. + +The two men watched him out of earshot. Then Dug, with almost +precipitate haste, turned back to his visitor. + +"Now, sir, I'm ready to hear anything you need to tell me." + +But Bob was thinking of Ju Penrose as he had thought of him many times +since he had listened and yielded to Effie's appeal. Every man has his +price. Bob knew now that he, like the rest, had his price. That price +a woman had set for him. Ju was right--hatefully right. Well, he +would now refuse to be robbed of one cent of it. + +He looked up sharply as the other made his demand. + +"You're offering ten thousand dollars reward for the| capture of the +Lightfoot gang, Mr. McFarlane?" + +"That's so." + +The rancher's regard had deepened. There was a curious light shining +in his blue eyes. It was half speculative, half suggestive of growing +excitement. It was wholly full of a burning interest. + +"Say, I'd just like to know how I stand." Bob laughed that short hard +laugh which bears no trace of mirth. "You see, I can put you wise. I +can lead you right on to their camp so you can get 'em--while they're +sleeping, or any other old way. Oh, yes, I'm ready to play my part +right up to the limit. It don't matter a thing. I'm not just here to +tell you about things. I'm here to lead you to that camp, and take a +hand in the hanging when you get busy. You see, I'm a whole hogger. +But I want to know how things stand about that ten thousand dollar +reward. Do I get it? If I get shot up does my wife get it? And when +it's paid, do you shout about it? Does the gang down Orrville way need +to know who it was they forgot to hand the name of Judas to when he was +christened? I don't care a cuss on my own account. It's----" + +But Dug McFarlane broke in upon the bitter raillery. He had no thought +for the man or his feelings, just for one moment it seemed to him that +some sort of miracle had happened. And his every thought and feeling +was absorbed in it. Here, after five years of vain effort, here, after +five years of depredations which had almost threatened the cattle +industry in the district with complete crippling, here was a man who +could lead them to the raiders' hiding-place, could show them how the +hanging they all so cordially desired could be brought about. It was +stupendous. It was--yes, it was miraculous. + +His first impulse had been to give way to the excitement which stirred +him, but he restrained himself. + +"Ten thousand dollars will be paid by me to the man, or his nominee, +privately, if his information leads to the hanging of this gang. Say, +boy, we ain't goin' to split hairs or play any low games on this lay +out. I'm a rich man, an' ten thousand dollars ain't a circumstance so +we break up this gang. If we only get one of 'em or part of 'em, the +man who shows me their hiding-place, and leads me to it, that man--or +his wife--gets my ten thousand dollars. You can have it in writing. +But my word goes any old time. Now you can get busy and hand me the +proposition." + +The steady eyes, the emphatic tones of this big, straight-dealing +rancher silenced the last doubt in Bob's lesser mind. He was out to do +this dirty work with all his might in the interest of the woman who had +inspired it. But he had scarcely been prepared for such simple methods +as this man displayed. He had felt that it was for him to barter, to +scheme, to secure the dollars Effie coveted. A deep sigh escaped him. +It may have been relief. It may have been of regret that he must stand +before so straight-dealing a personality claiming his thirty pieces of +silver. + +He passed one hand across his perspiring brow and thrust his prairie +hat farther back upon his head. He would have preferred, however, to +have drawn it down over his eyes to escape the searching gaze from the +honest depths of the other's. Suddenly, with a gesture of impatience, +he began to talk rapidly. + +"It's no use, Mr. McFarlane, I hate this rotten work," he cried out. +"I--I hate it so bad I could just rather bite my tongue out than tell +you the things I've got to. It's rotten. I don't know---- Say, you +don't know me, and I don't guess you care a curse anyway. But I was +brought up in a city and taught to believe things were a deal better +than I've lately come to think they are. Psha! These fellers have got +to be hanged when and where we get them. But it hurts me bad to think +that I've got to take dollars for handing you their lives. Oh, that +don't tell you a thing either. You'd say I don't need to take 'em. +But I do. I got to take those dollars, if they blister my hands and +burn the bones inside 'em. I've got to have 'em, and I'd like to burn +'em, every blazing one. But I've got to have 'em. Say, I'll be paid +on the nail when the job's done? If I get shot up the money'll be paid +to my wife? Will you give me your word, sir? Your word of honor?" + +"My word of honor." + +"Say, then come right back with me to my shanty no, best not. We'll +ride back to Orrville, and I'll hand you all I know as we go. I can +quit you before we reach the township. Then you can hustle the crowd +together and I'll be waiting ready at my shack to play my part--the +dirty rotten Judas racket." + +"Judas betrayed his--Master and Friend. Are these people your friends? +Is Lightfoot your master?" + +"Heavens! What d'you take me for--a rustler?" + +"Then quit your crazy talk of Judas. Your duty's plumb clear. Your +duty's to hand these folks, these bandits, into our hands. The money's +a matter of--choice. I'll just hand my man a word or two, and we'll +get back Orrville way." + + * * * * * * + +It was past midnight when Bob took up a position squatting on the sill +of his own doorway. Standing close behind him, leaning against the +rough casing, Effie looked down upon his huddled figure. Her eyes were +alight with a power of suppressed excitement. The blood was surging +through her young veins, and every nerve was tense with the strain of +waiting, of anticipation. + +But her emotions were by no means shared by her husband. For all her +beauty and woman's charm she was different, utterly different from him. +She had been brought up to the understanding that she would have to +make her own way in the world. All her parents had been able to do for +her was to see that she was as fully equipped for the adventure of life +as their limited means would permit. Those means would die when her +chief parent died, and the style in which they had lived left no margin +for saving. + +So, with cool calculation, Effie had set about her life's effort. Nor +had she considered herself unsuccessful in the first spreading of her +maiden wings. A millionaire's son! It was a splendid match. It had +met with the entire approval of her family. + +Then had come disillusionment. A determined opposition from Bob's +father. She had been urged to break off the engagement. She even +intended to do so. But some how she had miscalculated the nature which +her education had been powerless to eradicate. She realized at last +when the demands of her campaign made themselves heard, that there was +something she had hitherto completely ignored. There was the woman's +heart of her. She had most absurdly fallen in love with this first +stepping-stone toward the goal of her ambition. It was the absurd +uncalculating love of extreme youth. But it was sufficiently impetuous +to flout all the reason which her training and upbringing had been +calculated to inspire her with. + +The rest followed in natural sequence, and now, after two years of +married penury, she was ready to seize any straw which chance flung in +her way as a means of salving that ambition which she now saw, with +more perfectly clear vision, was completely upon the rocks. + +Now, in her mind, there were only three matters of concern. Would Dug +McFarlane come? Would they succeed in capturing this Lightfoot gang? +Would she get those ten thousand dollars, which appeared so vast a sum +to eyes only accustomed to dwelling upon cents? + +Bob was silent. His whole aspect seemed to have undergone a complete +changes. He had returned to her with the story of his interview with +Dug McFarlane. He had returned to her with the assurance that he had +sold his conscience, his honor, at her bidding, and he hoped she was +satisfied. Since then he had wrapped himself in a moody silence which +had defied her utmost effort to break down. + +The horses stood ready saddled in the barn. Effie was clad in her +riding suit. As yet the moon had not risen to reduce the starlit +magnificence of the velvet summer night sky. Nor was there any sound +to warn them that the hours of suspense were nearly over. + +Finally, Effie could endure the silence no longer. Her dark eyes were +intently gazing down upon the bowed figure of the man. They were hard +with every bitter woman's emotion. She was full of a fierce, hot +resentment against the man who could so obstinately resist the spirit +of her longing. + +"Bob," she cried at last, all restraint completely giving way, "do you +know what I could do just now more willingly than anything else in the +world? I could thrust out my foot and spurn you with it as you might +any surly cur which barred your way. I tell you I'm hot with every +feeling of contempt for your crazy attitude. You dare to set yourself +and your moral scruples between my welfare and the miserable life +you've condemned me to. Your moral scruples. Were there ever such +things? Morals? Ju Penrose's saloon day and night--for you. The +sluttish drudgery of this wretched place for me. Then you dare to +place your conscience before my--comfort." + +"Do I?" + +The man did not look up. His brooding eyes were on the sky-line to the +southeast. + +"I've done as you needed. I've arranged everything with the--hangman. +You're going to touch those pleasant dollars. What more are you asking +me?" + +"What more? Yes, you've done these things because I've driven you to +them. You? You'd rather see me sitting around here starving, a worn +wreck of a woman, than lend a willing hand to bettering our lot. Oh, +yes, you've done these things, and--I hate you for the way you've done +them." + +The man sat up. He shifted his position so that he could gaze up at +the splendid creature standing over him. + +"You don't hate me worse than I hate myself, Effie," he said with an +exasperating lack of emotion. "Say, you feel like kicking me. You +feel like treating me like a surly cur. Well, I guess you're welcome. +I don't guess there's a thing you can do that way can hurt me worse +than you've done already." Then he smiled. And his smile was more +maddening to the woman than his words. "Don't worry a thing. You're +going to get your dollars if there's anything I can do to help you, and +when you've got 'em--why, if the merciful God we've both been brought +up to believe in is all we believe Him, I shan't be around to watch you +dirtying your hands with them." + +Then with a swift, alert movement he raised a warning hand. + +"H'sh!" + +For some seconds they remained listening. Far away to the southeast a +low murmuring note came over the low hills. The girl remained with +eyes straining to pierce the starlit monotone. The man rose slowly +from his seat. Finally he turned about and faced her, and his eyes +smiled into hers. + +"The hanging bee," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE RAIDERS RAIDED + +It was the gap where the screen of bush broke off, leaving the barren +shoulder overlooking the valley. It was where the hard-beaten, +converging cattle-paths hurled themselves over the brink to the wide +depths below. + +The stillness that prevailed was unbroken by a single night sound. +Even the insect life seemed wrapped in a deep hush of somnolence. As +yet the night scavengers had not emerged from their hidings to bay the +silvery radiance of a moonlit night. The deep hush beneath the myriad +of eyes of night was as beautiful as it was treacherous, for it only +cloaked hot, stirring passions ready in a moment to break out into +warring chaos. + +Crouching low under the shelter of the screening bush three figures +huddled closely. They were peering across the wide gulf, searching +with eyes that only half read what lay before them in the starlight. +Their gaze rested upon one definite spot whose shadowy outline was +indicated by the outstretched arm of one of the party. It was a deep +woodland bluff, leaning, as it seemed, for support against the far wall +of the valley's western slope. + +After some tense moments the straining eyes beheld the faintest glimmer +of artificial light flickering in the depths of its silent heart. So +faint was it, at the distance, that, for a while, doubt prevailed. +Then conviction supervened as each of the watchers recorded his +observation and a sigh of certitude made itself heard. The point of +light was held by all. It was dwelt upon. It was the verification +needed to convey absolute faith in the woman's tale miraculous. + +Perhaps it was the light in some window of a secret abode. Perhaps it +was the steady flicker of an unscreened camp-fire. Perhaps, even, it +was the beam of some lantern carelessly set down and left alight. +Whatever it was it was certainly of human agency, and human agency in +these regions had only one interpretation for the minds of those who +were watching from the high eastern wall of the valley. + +Presently a woman's voice spoke in the hush of suppressed excitement. +Her tone was full of an eagerness that hurled her words swiftly upon +the still night air. + +"That's where I marked them down," she whispered. "There--just there. +Right where that light's shining. Somewhere in the heart of that +bluff. There was a herd grazing out in front, with three mounted men +guarding it. There's no mistake. It's a bee-line right across. And +the men who fired up this way came out of those trees. It's steep down +these paths. They sort of zigzag their way, but it's a path any horse +can make without danger. It just needs care. Once in the valley it's +a stretch of sweet-grass without a bluff or a break of any sort. +There's no slough either. It's just grass. One big flat of +sweet-grass." + +There was no reply from her companions. They were engrossed with the +object of their straining scrutiny. Presently the woman went on again. + +"This is where my work quits," she said. Then she withdrew her gaze +and looked up at the dim outline of the big man nearest her. There was +just a shade of eagerness in her manner now. "That's Lightfoot's camp, +Mr. McFarlane," she assured. "I've done all that's needed. You see, +I'm a woman, and I don't guess you need anything more from me. Shall I +stop right here, or--get back to home?" + +Bob Whitstone was watching his wife closely as she addressed herself to +the rancher. He noted her tone, her evident anxiety now, and he +understood. A curious repulsion surged through him. In the brief two +years of his married life no such sensation had ever possessed him. +But he recognized it. It was the breaking point. Effie no longer held +place in his affections. He glanced up at McFarlane as his deep tones +whispered in the silence. + +"Yes, ma'am, get right back to home. There's no need for you to get +mussed up with what's goin' to happen. It's man's work, not a woman's. +Your husband's got my word. You'll find we aren't forgetful." + +Then he drew back under cover, and moved away to where, scattered along +the path, well sheltered from view, a large party of dismounted +horsemen were awaiting his orders. + +Effie turned to her husband. + +"You're coming back with me, Bob?" she said, almost pleadingly. "It's +a long way to home." + +Bob's eyes gazed straight into hers. Even in the darkness Effie felt +something of the coldness of his regard. + +"Are you scared?" he demanded. + +Effie shook her head. + +"There's nothing to be scared at. But you've nothing to do with--the +rest of it." + +"Haven't I?" + +"You're not going down there with them?" + +There was a curious sharpness in the woman's whispering voice. Bob's +cold regard remained unwavering. + +"I'm leaving nothing to chance. You've got to get your wages. I'm +going to see you get them. Yes, I'm going--down there." + +A sudden fierce passion swept through the woman's heart. Hot words in +retort surged to her lips. But they remained unuttered. A strong +effort of restraint checked them. She turned away coldly, her eyes +focussing once more upon the tiny point of light across the hollow. + +"Guess you must do as you think," she said, with a shrug. And she +remained with her back turned upon the man she was destined never to +address again. + +Bob moved away and joined the rest of the Vigilantes. They were +already in the saddle. Dug McFarlane had given his final orders. In a +moment Bob surveyed the scene in the dim light. Then he turned away to +his own horse and sprang into the saddle. + +McFarlane saw him and rode up. + +"You coming along?" he enquired curiously. + +"Sure." + +"Good boy." Then he drew a deep breath. "Maybe there'll be an empty +saddle or two before we've done. But I don't guess that'll need to +worry us any. The man who 'passes in' to-night won't have any kick +comin'. It's better that way--with your duty done." + +"Yes." + +The simple monosyllable was strangely expressive, but Dug McFarlane had +no understanding of the thought that prompted it. It would have been +difficult indeed, even with understanding, to have probed the depths of +feeling prompting it. But Whitstone was incapable of seeing the +broader aspect of anything pertaining to himself. He saw only as his +feelings dictated, without logic or reason of any sort. He was of that +nature which leans for support upon prejudices absorbed in early youth. +Principles inculcated through early environment and teaching. He was +incapable of testing or questioning their verity. Robbed of them he +was left floundering. And Effie, the woman whom he had married only +out of hot, youthful human regard, had so robbed him. + +Effie drew back. She pressed herself close into the bush as the +cavalcade sought the path at the edge of the valley. She watched the +burly leader vanish over the brink. Then, one by one, twenty-five +others passed her in review, and were swallowed up by the depths below. +She knew none of them personally, but she knew they were all ranchers +and ranchmen of varying degree. She knew that each individual had at +some time suffered at the hands of the rustlers. That deep in each +heart was the craving for a vengeance which possessed small enough +thought of justice in it. These men were Vigilantes. They were so +called not from any desire to enforce law and order, but purely for +their own self-defense, the defending of self-interests. + +They impressed her not from any justice of motive, but from the +merciless purpose upon which they were bent. + +The last to pass over the brink was her husband, a slight figure, +almost puny, amongst these hard prairie folk. Just for one weak moment +she was on the point of raising a protesting voice. Just for one +moment a womanly softening held her yielding. He was her husband, and +memories crowded. But almost as they were born they died. Their place +was once more taken by the recollection of the life she had been forced +to endure for the sake of her first youthful passion. Her heart +hardened. No impulse had driven her to her present actions. They were +the result of a craving she was powerless to resist. Her husband must +go his way. He must act as he saw fit. For herself she would not +forego one tithe of the reward which she believed would help her to +that comfort in life for which her soul yearned. + +With the passing of the Vigilantes she moved clear of the bush. She +would see this out. Home? She had no desire for her home. The night +had no terrors for her. Nothing had terror for her, except the failure +of these men. + +She flung herself upon the ground and lay with wide eyes searching the +remoteness of the valley beyond. Her impatience had developed into +something almost feverish. She wanted a sign. She wanted assurance. +But the world seemed so still, so entirely peaceful. + +The moments pursued for her a sluggish course. The jeweled sky was an +added regret. She desired light, light that she might witness the +whole drama she hoped--yes, hoped--would be played out down there in +the valley. A sort of dementia had taken possession of her. She had +no thought of the blood to be poured out at her bidding. She thought +nothing of the strong lives to be given up in sacrifice for her +well-being. She thought only of herself, and all that the success of +that night's affairs would mean to her. + +But the dragging minutes extending upward of half an hour wore her +fever down. And slowly depression replaced her more tense emotions. +It all seemed so long in happening that failure began to loom, and to +become a certainty. + +It was too good to hope. Ten thousand dollars! The amount bulked in +her mind. It grew greater and greater in its significance as delay +thrust hope further and further from her thought. Again impatience +grew, hot, angry impatience, and drove depression out. What were they +doing down there? Why did they not surround the bluff? There were +enough of them. Look! The light was still shining. It was the camp. +Where that light shone the men lay in hiding. Well--it was simple. To +her mind there was no need for---- + +The sound of a rifle shot split the air with significant abruptness. +The sound banished the last of her half-angry causing. The moment had +come. She raised herself up for no other reason than tense drawn +suspense. + +A second shot. Then a rattle of musketry which suggested general +conflict. She drew a deep breath. Far away in the distance it seemed +she heard a sharp cry. It was the final shriek of a human creature in +the agony of a mortal wound. Then followed the sound of hoarse voices +shouting. + +For some moments nothing in the scene changed. The speck of light +shone out twinkling and gleaming like some evil eye. For the +rest--there remained the deep twilight marked by the myriads of summer +stars. + +But the cries of men, the trampling of speeding hoofs held her. The +breathlessness of the whole thing was upon her now, making it +impossible to detach her regard from the main features. + +The rattle of rifles had become almost incessant. And a few moments +later a blaze of light shot up from the far side of the bluff. It +grew, licking up the great, sun-dried, resinous pine wood with +paralyzing rapidity. Another great sheet of flame soared upward +further away to the right. Then another to the south. A fire trap had +been set at the far side of the great bluff, and only the hither side +remained open to those seeking shelter within it. + +Effie's gaze was fascinated beyond her control. The Vigilantes had +planned their coup deliberately and well. The air she was breathing +began to reek with the pungent smell of burning. A light smoke haze +began to flood the picture. Now she beheld moving figures in the lurid +glow which backed the scene. They were horsemen. But whether or not +they were the Vigilantes she could not be certain. They were racing +across the open, and the crack of their rifles mingled with the +spluttering crackle of the conflagration beyond. + +Never for one moment did the woman withdraw her gaze. The spell of it +all was almost painful. She knew that life and death were at grips +down there in that cauldron of conflict. And though at moments +shudders passed through her body, they were neither shudders of +weakness nor womanish horror. Her only emotion was excitement, and her +nerves were ready to respond in physical expression to every vision her +eyes communicated to them. + +An hour passed thus. The bluff was a furnace, roaring, booming. It +lit the valley seemingly from end to end. The night shadows had been +swept aside, and the scene lay spread out before her eyes. She saw +dismounted riders moving about. She beheld one group; a number of men +huddled together, held as though they were prisoners. + +At last firing altogether ceased and the straggling horsemen began to +reassemble in the vicinity of the chief group. Then, as the raging +fire ate its way through to the hither side of the bluff, and turned +the final barrier into a wall of fire, the whole party moved away down +the valley with obvious signs of haste. + +Effie gazed after them with widening eyes while the hot breath of the +conflagration fanned her cheeks. She was wondering, speculating, and +slowly the significance of their movements began to take hold of her. + +At first she had thought that the movement was inspired by the +overpowering heat of the forest fire. She had warned herself of the +danger. The grass down there. The flying sparks. But almost in the +same breath she realized that there was more, far more in that +movement. The grass was far too green in the valley to form any real +danger and the bluff was sufficiently isolated. No, there was more in +it than the danger of fire. + +She shivered, although the night air now possessed something of the +temperature of a summer noon. All her excitement had passed. She had +even forgotten for the time all that the doings of that night meant to +her. She was thinking of the deliberate administration of justice as +these men understood it. It was crude, deadly, and full of a painful +horror, and now, now, in saner moments, she beheld the dawn of emotions +which had come all too late. Whither were those men riding? Whither? +And then? Ah--she shuddered, and her shudder was full of realization. +For well she knew that the men she had seen grouped were living +prisoners. Living prisoners. How long would they remain so? What +would be their end? + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +OUTLAND JUSTICE + +The noon sun sweltered down through the rank vegetation of the narrow +defile. The heat was almost too burdensome to endure. It was moist; +it was dank with the reek of decaying matter. The way was a seemingly +endless battle against odds. But the travelers were buoyed with the +knowledge that it was a short cut, calculated to save them many hours +and many miles. + +Bud Tristram had pointed the way. Furthermore, he had urged Jeff to +accept and endure the tortures and shortcomings which he knew they must +face in the heart of this remote gulch. + +Nor were his warnings unneeded, for Nature had set up no inconsiderable +defenses. Here were swarms of over-grown mosquitoes of a peculiarly +vicious type, which covered their horses' flanks in a gray horde, +almost obliterating their original colors; and a bleeding mass resulted +every time either man raised a hand to the back of his own neck to +soothe the fierce irritation of the vicious attacks. Then the way +itself. It was a narrow gorge almost completely occupied by the muddy +bed and boggy shores of a drying mountain creek. + +It was, in Jeff's own words, a "fierce journey." The heat left them +drenched in perspiration, and wiltering. The two packhorses fought for +their very lives, often hock deep in a sucking mire. While the beasts, +who bore the burden of their exacting masters, were driven to battle +every inch of the way against a fiercely obstinate rampart of dense +grown bush. + +Mercifully the gorge was less than three miles in length. A greater +distance must have left the nervous equine mind staggered, and +helpless, and beaten. As it was nearly three hours of incessant +struggle only served to pass the final barrier. + +"Phew!" + +Jeff Masters drew off his hat as they emerged upon the wide opening of +a great valley. Then he flung himself out of the saddle and began to +sweep the blood-inflated mosquitoes from his horse's flanks. Bud, with +less haste, proceeded to do the same. Finally, both men walked round +the weary beasts and examined the security of the packs on the led +horses. + +Bud pointed down the valley with one outstretched arm. + +"We'll make that way," he said, his deep eyes dwelling almost +affectionately upon the wide stretch of blue-tinted grass. "Guess +we'll take the high land an' camp fer food." + +Then he turned back to his horse and remounted. Jeff silently followed +his example and they rode on. + +For many minutes no word passed between them. Each was busy with his +own particular thoughts. The deep look of friendly affection was still +in Bud's eyes. Jeff was far less concerned with the wonderful scene +slowly unfolding itself as they proceeded than with the purpose of his +journey. He knew they had reached the central point from which they +were to radiate their search of the labyrinth of hills. His mind was +upon the wealth of possibility before them. The difficulties. Bud, +for the time at least, was concerned only with that which his eyes +beheld, and the memories of other days far, far back when he had +possessed no greater responsibility than the quest of adventure, and +his own safe delivery from the fruits of his unwisdom. + +It was he who first broke the silence between them. + +"Gee!" he exclaimed, with that curious note of appreciation which that +ejaculation can assume. "It's big. Say, Jeff, it's big an' good to +look on. Sort of makes you think, too, don't it? Jest get a peek that +way. Them slopes." He indicated the western boundary of the valley +rising up, up to great pine-crested heights. "A thousand--two thousand +feet. And hills beyond. Big hills, with snows you couldn't melt +anyhow. Over there, too." One great hand waved in the direction of +the east. "Lesser hills. Lesser woods. But--man, it's fine! Then +ahead. Miles an' miles of this queer blue grass which sets fat on +cattle inches deep." + +His words ceased, but his eyes continued to feast, flooding the simple +brain behind them with a joy which no words could describe. Presently +he went on: + +"Makes you feel A'mighty God's a pretty big feller, don't it? Guess He +jest tumbles things around, an' sets up, an' levels down in a way that +wouldn't mean a thing to brains like ours--till He's finished it all, +and sort of swep' up tidy. Look at them colors, way up there to the +west. Queer? Sure. Every sort o' blamed color in a tangle no earthly +painter could set out. Ain't it a pictur'? It's jest a sort o' +pictur' a painter feller's li'ble to spend most of his wholesome nights +dreamin' about. An' when he wakes up, why, I don't guess he kin even +think like it, an' he sure ain't a hell of a chance to paint that way +anyhow. Say, d'you make it these things are, or is it jest something +He sets in us makes us see 'em that way? He's big--He surely is. I'm +glad I come along with you, Jeff, boy. Y' see, a feller sort o' sits +around home, an' sees the same grass, an' brands the same steers, an' +thinks the same thinks. Ther' ain't nothin' he don't know around home. +He gets so life don't seem a thing, an' he jest feels he's running +things so as he pleases. He sort o' fergets he's jest a part o' the +scenery around. He fergets he's set in that scenery by an A'mighty big +Hand, same as them all-fired m'squitters we just found, an' kind o' +guesses he is that A'mighty Hand." He turned his deeply smiling eyes +on his companion. "I don't often take on like this, Jeff," he +apologized, "but the sight o' this place makes me want to shout an' get +right out an' thank the good God He's seen fit to let me sit around an' +live." + +But Jeff had no means of simple expression such as Bud. He could never +give verbal expression to the emotions locked away in his heart. Those +who knew him regarded it as reserve, even hardness. Perhaps it was +only that shyness which the strongest characters are often most prone +to. + +He ignored the older man's quaintly expressed feelings, and fastened +upon the opening he had at last received, and which he had been seeking +ever since it had become obvious that Bud's knowledge of the great +Cathill range was almost phenomenal. + +"You know these parts a heap," he observed. + +"Know 'em?" Bud laughed in his deep-throated way, which was only +another indication of his buoyant mood. "You'd know 'em, boy, if you'd +had a father build up a big pelt trading post right in this valley, an' +fer sixteen years o' your life you'd ridden, an' shot, an' hunted over +this blue grass, and these hills, for nigh a range of fifty mile. +Guess I know this territory same as you know the playgrounds o' the +college that handed you your knowledge o' figgers. Know it? Say, you +could dump me right down anywhere around here for fifty miles an' more, +an' I'd travel straight here same as the birds fly." He laughed again. +"When you said you'd the notion of huntin' out your brother, who was +huntin' these hills, you give me the excuse I'd been yearnin' to find +in years. I wanted to see these hills again. I wanted it bad. Guess +I was jest crazy fer it. It didn't get me figgerin' long, either, to +locate wher' we'd likely find that boy you're lookin' fer. Ther' ain't +no better huntin' ground than around this valley. It's sort of +untouched since my father died, an' I had to quit it and take to +punchin' cattle. Then ther's that post he built. A dandy place, with +nigh everything a pelt hunter needs fer his comfort. We're making for +that post right now, an' when we make it I'm guessin' we ain't goin' to +chase much farther to locate that twin brother of yours." + +"But you never----" + +Bud shook his great head, and stretched his ungainly legs with his +stirrups thrust out wide. + +"Sure I didn't tell you these things," he nodded, in simple, almost +childlike enjoyment. + +"I never---- Say, does Nan know you were--raised here?" + +"Surely." Then Bud went on with an amused twinkle in his eyes. "But I +guess Nan's like me. It ain't our way worryin' other folks with our +troubles. You see, most folks ain't a heap o' time to listen to other +folks' troubles. Most everybody's jest yearnin' to tell their own." + +"Troubles?" Jeff smiled in his own peculiarly shadowy fashion. "You +don't seem to figure this valley's any sort of trouble, nor its +associations. But maybe there's a bone or two hidden around you don't +figure to show me." + +Bud remained silent for some moments. Then he gave way to another of +his joyous, deep-throated laughs. + +"No, sirree! Ther' ain't no troubles to this valley fer me. None. I +got memories I wouldn't sell fer a farm. Them wer' days you didn't +find trouble in nothin'. No. It's later on you see things diff'rent. +Make good, an' you see troubles wher' there shouldn't be none. You an' +me we're guessin' to make a pile o' dollars, so we could set up a +palace on 5th Av'noo, New York, if we was yearnin' that-a-way. I don't +reckon there's many fellers 'ud find trouble in such a play as that. +Wal, I'd be willing enough to turn it all down, an' pitch camp right +here among these hills, an' chase pelts for the few dollars needed to +keep the wind from rattling my bones--'cep' fer Nan." + +"Ah yes--Nan. There's Nan to think of. And Nan's more to you, Bud, +than anything else in life. Say, your little girl's a bright jewel. I +don't need to say a word about her value, eh? But some day you're +going to lose her. And then?" + +Bud's eyes came round upon him and for some moments encountered Jeff's +steady regard. Then he looked away, and slowly all its simple delight +dropped from the strong weather-tanned face, to be replaced by an +almost painful dejection. Presently he turned again, and, in a moment, +Jeff found an added interest in the wonderful scene that lay ahead of +him. + +"Nan's a fine, good gal," Bud declared, with simple earnestness. +"Guess she's her mother over again--only she's jest Nan. Nan's more to +me than all the dollars in creation, boy. Guess you're right. Oh, +yes, you're right--sure." The man brushed aside the beads of sweat +from his broad forehead. "An' Nan's goin' to do jest as she notions. +She's goin' to live around her home as long as she feels that way. +When she don't feel that way she's goin' to quit. When she feels like +choosin' a man fer herself--why, I'm goin' to do all I know helpin' her +that way. But it's goin' to be her choice, boy. An' when that time +comes, why, I'll get right down on my knees an' pray A'mighty God he's +the feller for her, an' the man I'm hopin' she'll choose, an' that he +wants her, same as she wants him." + +Then he shook his head and a deep sigh escaped him. + +"But I don't know. It don't seem to me reasonable. Y' see, the luck's +run all my way so far, an' I don't guess you can keep on dealin' the +cards without 'em gettin' right up an' handin' it you plenty--some +time." + +Jeff had no reply. Something warned him to keep silent. The older man +in his earnest simplicity had opened out to him a vista which he felt +he had no right to gaze upon. + +As they jogged steadily along over the blue-green carpet, and the +kaleidoscopic coloring of the distant slopes fell away behind them, his +whole mental vision became occupied by the sweet picture of a +brown-eyed, brown-haired girl. But he was regarding it without any +lover's emotions. Rather was he regarding it as one who calmly +appraises a beautiful jewel he does not covet. He was thinking of Nan +as he had known her for some five years. From the days of her +schoolgirlhood he had watched her develop into a grown woman full of +all that was wholesome and winsome. She was her father over again, +trustful, simple, fearless, and she was possessed of a whimsical +philosophy quite beyond her years. Her beauty was undeniable, her +gentle kindliness was no less. But the memory of these things made no +stirring within him. Nan was just a loyal little friend whom he loved +and was ready to serve as he might love and help a sister, but regard +of her broke off at that. So, as he rode, the pictures of her failed +to hold him, and, finally, his roving gaze became caught and held by a +sudden and striking anachronism in the scene about him. + +He claimed Bud's attention with a gesture which roused him from his +engrossing thought. + +"Fire," he observed. + +Bud's gaze became rivetted on the spot. + +"Yes, it's fire--sure," he admitted. + +It was a long way ahead. Only the trained eyes of prairiemen could +have read the sign aright at such a distance. It was a break in the +wonderful sea of varying shades of restful green. It was, to them, an +ominous dead black patch which broke the sky-line with unmistakable +skeleton arms. + +It was the only remark upon the subject which passed between them, but +as they rode on it occupied something more than a passing attention. + +With Jeff his interest was mere curiosity. With Bud it was deeper and +more significant. Had the younger man observed him he might have +discovered a curious expression almost amounting to pain in the deep +eyes which contemplated the blackened limbs where the fire had wrought +its havoc. + +As they drew nearer it became apparent that the havoc was even greater +than they had first supposed. A wide patch of woodland, hundreds of +acres in extent, whose upper limits were confined only by the summit of +the valley's slope, where it cut the sky-line, had been completely +burnt out. Nor was it possible to tell if even that limit was the +extent of the disaster. + +Bud suddenly reined in his horse as they came abreast of it, and his +voice broke with painful sharpness upon the deathly stillness of the +world about them. + +"It's gone," he cried, with a note of deep distress and grievous +disappointment. "It's burnt right out to a shell. Say----" + +"What's gone?" + +The older man glanced round. Then his troubled eyes sought the charred +remains of the splendid pines once more. + +"Why--the post." Then he pointed amongst the charred skeletons. "Get +a peek right in ther'. See, Jeff. Them walls; them fallen logs. +Burnt. Burnt right through to the heart of 'em. That's all that's +left of the home that sheltered me for the first sixteen years of my +life. Say, I'm sick--sick to death." + +Jeff left his packhorse and moved forward amongst the blackened limbs. +The reek of burnt wood hung heavily upon the air. He threaded his way +carefully toward the charred remains of an extensive abode, now plainly +visible amongst the black tree trunks. + +It was a wide rambling structure, and, though burnt to cinders, much of +its general shape, and the great logs which had formed its walls, still +remained to testify to all it had been under the hands of those who had +originally wrought there. + +Jeff glanced back at the man he had left behind. He had not stirred. +He sat in the saddle just gazing at the destruction. That was all. So +he turned again to the ruins, and, dismounting, he proceeded on foot to +explore. + + * * * * * * + +They were eyes wide with repulsion and a certain horror that gazed down +upon the object at Jeff's feet. It was the rotting, charred remains of +a human figure. It was beyond recognition, except in so far as its +human identity was concerned. The clothes were gone. The flesh was +seared and shriveled. The process of incineration was almost complete. + +After a few fascinated moments his eyes searched further along the +remains of the old post wall. Another figure lay sprawling on the +ground. Near by it a heavy pistol had fallen wide. A rifle, too, lay +across the second body. + +Every detail was swiftly absorbed by the man's keenly active brain. He +stood back from the gutted precincts and gazed speculatively upon the +picture. His imagination reconstructed something of what he believed +must have occurred in the deep heart of these wrecked woodlands. + +What of the fire? How had it been started? Was it the work of an +incendiary? Had the heat of the summer sun wrought the mischief? Had +the hut itself supplied the trouble? None of these questions offered +real enlightenment through the answers he could supply. No. He saw +the superheated furnace of the woods blazing, and he saw men struggling +with all their might to save themselves, and some of their more +precious belongings. The reckless daring of those two, perhaps at the +last moment, returning to their shelter on one final journey to save +some detail of their home. Then the awful penalty for their temerity. +Perhaps overwhelmed by smoke. Death--hideous, appalling death. Death, +a thousand times worse than that which, in the routine of their lives, +it was their work to mete out to the valuable fur bearers which yielded +them a means of existence. + +A sudden question, not unaccompanied by fear, swept through his brain. +It was a question inspired by the belief that these men were fur +hunters. Who--who were they? He drew close up to each body in turn, +seeking identity where none was discoverable. A sweat broke upon his +temples. There was no sign in them. There was no human semblance +except for outline. + +"God! If it should be----" + +His sentence remained incompleted. A dreadful fear had broken it off. +He was gazing down upon the second body, in earnest, horrified +contemplation. Then to his amazement he was answered by Bud's familiar +voice. + +"It ain't the boy we're chasin' up, Jeff," he said, with a deep +assurance. + +"How d'you know that?" + +The demand was incisive, almost rough. + +"These folks weren't pelt hunters. Not by a sight. I bin around." + +Jeff had turned to the speaker, and a great relief shone in his eyes. + +"What--who were they--then?" he asked sharply. + +"Maybe it was a ranch--of sorts." + +"Of sorts? You mean----?" + +"Rustlers. Come right on out of here, an' I'll show you." + +With gentle insistence he drew his friend away from the painfully +fascinating spectacle which held so difficult a riddle. And presently +they were again with their horses, which were grazing unconcernedly +upon the sweet blue grass which the valley yielded so generously. + +"Well?" There was almost impatience in Jeff's monosyllable. + +For answer Bud pointed at a number of rough fences, uneven, crude, +makeshift, some distance away. + +"See them? Oh, yes, I guess they're corrals sure. But it don't take a +feller who's lived all his life among cattle more'n five seconds to +locate their meanin'. They're corrals set up in an a'mighty hurry by +folks who hate work o' that sort anyway. An' I'd say, Jeff, +cattlemen--real cattlemen--don't dump a range down in the heart of the +Cathills, not even fer this sweet-grass you can see around, when ther's +the prairie jest outside. That is cattlemen who got no sort o' reason +fer keepin' quit of the--open plains. Then ther's bin a big drive away +north from here. Mebbe they wer' gettin' clear of this fire." + +Under the influence of Bud's clear convictions all Jeff's fears +vanished. He accepted the other's admittedly better understanding of +these things all the more readily that he desired earnestly to dispel +the last shadows of his momentary doubt. + +"That's so," he agreed. Then he added: "But anyway, our camp's gone." + +"Yes. We'll make camp some'ere else. Meanwhiles----" + +"Yes?" + +"We must follow up the trail." + +There was irrevocable decision in the older cattleman's tone. And his +words had the effect of startling the other. + +"But--I don't see----" + +"They're rustlers. Ther's their tracks clear as day. This is their +hiding. Wal, I guess there's jest one thing to be done. It's our duty +to track 'em down. Our duty to the cattle world, Jeff, boy." + +"But what about--Ronald?" + +Bud looked him squarely in the eyes. + +"We're cattlemen first, Jeff. The other'll come later." + +Jeff nodded, but there was a certain reluctance in his manner. His +whole heart was set upon the search for his twin brother. He felt that +his duty as a cattleman scarcely had the right to claim him at such a +time. But the older man's manner made it difficult to protest, and, in +deference to him, he felt it would be ungenerous to refuse. After all +it only meant perhaps the delay of a day for his own projects. + +"Then we'll feed and water right here, Bud," he said resignedly. "We +can leave our pack ponies, and ride light. There's five hours of +daylight yet." + +"Yes, five hours good. Thanks, boy. Don't you worry a thing. We'll +make this time good. We're goin' to find your Ronald--if he's +anywheres around these Cathills." + + * * * * * * + +The more concentrated the character, the more sure its power of moral +endurance, so the more acute its suffering under adversity. Such +penalties lie ambushed for the strong, as though in delight at the +immensity of the suffering which can thereby be inflicted. + +Such an ambush was awaiting Jeffrey Masters. It came with terrifying +suddenness. Bud was on the lead. The great sea of blue grass had been +beaten and crushed by the hoofs of a considerable herd. There was no +difficulty, and the pace he made was rapid. But, even so, Bud's keen +eyes never left the well-defined trail. He was reading it with an +understanding which might well have seemed almost superhuman. And as +he rode he communicated odd fragments of his reading to the man behind +him. + +"It's queer," he observed once, when they had covered nearly two miles +of the track. "Ther's a great bunch of horsemen been over this. Kind +o' seems to me as if ther' was as many horses as steers. They're +headin' northeast, too." + +Jeff's eyes were as close upon the trail as Bud's, only he read with +less understanding. + +"They seem leading out of the valley," he said. "Maybe there's another +camp way up further." + +Suddenly Bud drew rein, his great body lurching forward in the saddle +as his horse "propped" itself to a standstill. Jeff's horse followed +suit of its own accord. + +"What's doing?" + +Jeff's demand was accompanied by a keen look into the other's face. + +Bud's eyes were wide with speculation. + +"They've broke up--hereabouts," he cried. "More'n half the horses have +cut out. Say, ther'," he went on pointing away to the right. "That's +the way they've took, clear across ther' to the east. The herd's gone +on with jest a few boys to handle it. Say----" + +"Look!" + +A curious suppressed force rang in Jeff's exclamation. He was pointing +at a bluff of wide-spreading sturdy trees that grew hard in against the +eastern slope of the valley. + +Bud followed the direction indicated, and that which he beheld robbed +him of all inclination for further speech. + +Long silent moments passed. Moments fraught with poignant, stirring +emotions. Something painful was slowly creeping into the eyes of both +men as they continued to regard this stout cluster of trees. + +"Oaks." + +The word was muttered. + +Jeff vouchsafed no reply, but led the way toward them at a gallop. + +They drew up almost in the shadow of the trees, at a point where three +hideous things were hanging suspended by rawhide ropes. They were +swaying gently, stirred almost imperceptibly under the pressure of the +light breeze. + +Bud sat stock still upon his horse. For a moment Jeff remained at his +side. Then the latter stirred. He pressed his horse forward, urging +it closer under the overhanging boughs. The animal moved willingly +enough for a few yards. Then panic suddenly beset it. It shied. It +reared and plunged. The fierce reminder of the spur was powerless to +affect it beyond driving it to even more strenuous rebellion. The +terror-stricken creature would not approach another step in the +direction of those ominous swinging bodies. + +Jeff finally leaped from the saddle and released his horse. It turned +to bolt, but Bud reached its hanging reins and secured it. Then he sat +still, observing the movements of his companion with strained, intent +gaze. + +Jeff passed under the great limbs of the tree. He cautiously +approached the first of the hanging bodies. It was hideous. There was +a bandage drawn tightly over the dead eyes, but its folds were +powerless to disguise the rest of the contorted features. The head was +tilted over on one side. Its flesh was ghastly, and deep +discolorations blotched it from the neck up. The body was clad in the +ordinary garb of the prairieman, with the loose waistcoat hanging open +over a discolored cotton shirt, and the nether part of it sheathed in +dirty moleskin trousers. The ankles were lashed securely together, and +the arms firmly pinioned. + +For some moments Jeff stared up at the dead man. His blue eyes were +quite unsoftening. There was no real pity in him for the fate of a +cattle thief. He understood only the justice of it from the point of +view of the cattle grower. So his cold eyes gazed up at the horrid +spectacle unflinchingly. + +After some moments he passed on to the second body. The same +conditions prevailed. A colored handkerchief concealed the glazed +eyes, and the dropping jaw displayed the blackened cavity beyond the +lips. + +He moved away to the third. Its back was turned to him, and the bared +head displayed a close mass of fair curling hair. In this instance the +bandage over the eyes had fallen from its place, and lay lodged against +the raw hide rope about the dead man's neck. He moved round quickly. +In a moment he was facing the dreadful dead features. + +He stood there without a sound. But his eyes had changed from their +cold regard to a horror unspeakable. Once his lips parted, and there +was an automatic effort to moisten them with a parching tongue. He +swallowed with a visible effort. But no other movement came from him. + +The moments passed. Hideous, dreadful moments of an agony that was +displayed in the drawn lines which had suddenly taken possession of his +strong features. It was the face of a man whose soul is seared with +the blasting fury of a hell from the sight of which he is powerless to +withdraw his terrified gaze. He knew nothing but the agony which smote +through his every sense. The world about him, the place, even the +hideous swaying remains of a once joyous life that confronted him. He +was blind, blind to it all, crushed beneath a burden of agony which +left him stupefied. His twin brother Ronald was there before him, a +dreadful, dead thing, hanged for a--cattle thief. + + * * * * * * + +Bud gazed from the dead to the living. His deep eyes were full of an +understanding which required no words. There was that about the dead, +distorted face which was unmistakable. One look into the dreadful eyes +of the living had told him all he needed. + +He, too, stood silently contemplating the swaying figure. But it was +only for a moment. Then he moved swiftly, actively. As he moved he +drew a sheath knife from his belt. + +He reached up. The steel of the knife gleamed. The next moment the +dead thing was in his arms. + +A low fierce cry suddenly broke the silence of those dreadful shades. + +"Leave him! Don't dare, or--I'll kill you!" + +Bud's head turned, and the muzzle of a gun touched his cheek. The +blazing eyes behind it shone like coals of fire as they glared into his. + +But the great Bud's purpose was stronger than the madness of the +other's agony. + +"Put up your gun, Jeff," he said, in a deep gentle voice. "We're jest +goin' to hide this poor boy wher' the eyes o' men an' beasts can't see +him. We're jest goin' to hide him away wher' mebbe the good God'll +watch over him, an' help him, an' surely will forgive him. You ken +jest help me, boy, to locate the place, an' when we find it we'll sort +o' seal it up, an' you ken hide the key away in your heart so no one'll +ever find it. Are you goin' to help, Jeff?" + +For answer the gun was abruptly withdrawn. Then Bud saw the stricken +man's hand dash across his eyes, and, as it passed, he realized the +moisture of tears upon the back of it. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +JEFF CLOSES THE BOOK + +Ju Penrose was a mild sort of sun-worshipper. But he confined his +regard to the single blessings of light and warmth. Some of his +deity's idiosyncrasies were by no means blessings in his estimation. +He blamed the sun for the flies. He blamed it that it made necessary +the adoption of light cotton shirts, which required frequent washing. +He, furthermore, blamed it for the temperature of drinks in summer +time, in a place where no ice was procurable. This he regarded as +wholly unfair. Then, too, possessing something of an artistic eye, he +failed to appreciate the necessity for changing the delicate hues of +nature in spring to a monotonous summer tone by the overbearing process +of continuing its spring blessing _ad nauseam_. And as for winter, it +was perfectly ridiculous to turn off its "hot" tap when it was most +needed. Yes, there were moments when he certainly felt that he could +order matters far more pleasantly if he were given a free hand. + +Still, just now winter was a long way off. So that did not trouble him +greatly as he lounged in his doorway, and reposefully contemplated the +ruddy noonday light which was endeavoring to lend picturesqueness to a +scene which, he assured himself, was an "everlastin' disgrace an' stain +on the lousy pretensions of a museum of bum human intellec's." He was +referring to the rest of the buildings which comprised the township, as +apart from his own "hotel." The word "saloon" had been struck out of +his vocabulary, except for use in scornful depreciation of all other +enterprises of a character similar to his own. + +Just now he was chewing the cud, and, incidentally, a wad of tobacco, +of a partial peace. He felt that the recent break up of the Lightfoot +gang, so successfully achieved through the agency of hangings and +shootings, should certainly contribute to his advantage. He argued +that the long-endured threat against Orrville removed, money should +automatically become easier, and, consequently, a considerable vista of +his own personal prosperity opened out before his practical imagination. + +Yes, Ju was undoubtedly experiencing a certain mild satisfaction. But +somehow his ointment was not without taint. He detected a fly in it. +And he hated flies--even in ointment. + +To understand Ju's feelings clearly one must appreciate the fact that +he loved dollars better than anything else in the world. And something +he hated with equal fervor was to see their flow diverted into any +other channel than that of his own pocket. Ten thousand of these +delectable pieces of highly engraved treasure had definitely flowed +into some pocket unknown, as a result of the Lightfoot gang episode. +The whole transaction he felt was wicked, absolutely wicked. What +right had any ten thousand dollars to drift into any unknown pocket? +Known, yes. That was legitimate. It always left an enterprising +individual the sporting chance of dipping a hand into it. But the +other was an outrage against commercialism. Why, if that sort of thing +became the general practice, "how," he asked himself, "was an honest +trader to live?" + +The enquiry was the result of extreme nervous irritation, and he +scratched at the roots of his beard in a genuine physical trouble of +that nature. + +He was so engrossed upon his meditations that he entirely failed to +observe some mounted strangers debouch upon the market-place from the +western end of the township. Nor was it until they obstructed his view +that he awoke to their presence. Then he became aware of two men on +two horses, leading two pack ponies. + +He scrutinized them narrowly without shifting his position, and, long +before they reached him, he decided they were strangers. + +They dismounted in silence and without haste. They went round their +horses and loosened cinchas. Then they tied the four beasts to the +tie-posts in front of the saloon. + +They approached the saloon-keeper. The larger of the two surveyed the +unmoved Ju with steady eyes. Then he greeted him in deep, easy tones. + +"Howdy," he said. "You run this shanty?" + +The reflection upon his business house was not lost upon its proprietor. + +"Guess I'm boss of this--hotel." + +"Ah--hotel." Bud's gaze wandered over the simple structure. It +settled for a moment upon a certain display of debris, bottles, cases, +kegs, lying tumbled at an angle of the building. Then it came back to +Ju's hard face, and, in passing, it swept over the weather-boarding of +the structure which was plastered thick with paint to rescue it from +the ravages of drip from the shingle roof to which there was no +guttering. "Then I guess we'll get a drink." + +By a curious movement Ju seemed to fall back from his position and +become swallowed up by the cavity behind him. And Bud and his +companion moved forward in his wake. + +The place was entirely empty of all but the reek of stale tobacco, and +the curious, pungent odor of alcohol. The two customers lounged +against the shabby bar in that attitude which bespoke saddle weariness. +Ju stood ready to carry out their orders, his busy, enquiring mind +searching for an indication of the strangers' identity. + +"Rye?" he suggested amiably, testing, in his own fashion, their quality. + +But these men displayed no enthusiasm. + +"Got any lager?" demanded Bud. "A long lager, right off the ice." + +"Ice?" There was every sort of emotion in the echo of the word as the +saloon-keeper glanced vengefully across at a window through which the +sun was pouring. "Guess we don't grow ice around these parts, 'cep' +when we don't need it, an' I don't guess the railroad's discovered they +hatched Orrville out yet. We got lager in soak, an' lager by the keg, +down in a cool celler. Ef these things ain't to your notion I don't +guess you need the lager I kep." + +"We'll have the bottled stuff in soak. Long." + +"Ther's jest one size. Ef that don't suit, guess you best duplicate." + +There was no offense in Ju's manner. It was just his cold way of +placing facts before his customers, when they were strangers. + +He uncorked the bottles and set them beside the long glasses, and +waited while Bud poured his out. Then he accepted the price and made +change. Jeff silently poured out his and raised it to his lips. + +"How, Bud." + +"How." + +The two men drank and set down their half-emptied glasses. + +The sharp ears of the saloon-keeper had caught the name "Bud," and he +now stood racking his fertile brains to place it. But the stranger's +identity entirely escaped him. + +"Been times around here, ain't ther'?" Bud remarked casually. + +And Ju promptly seized the opportunity. + +"Times? Sure. Say, I guess you don't belong around. Jest passin' +thro'?" + +Bud nodded. Jeff had moved off toward the window, where he stood +gazing out. The saloon-keeper's gaze followed him. + +"Why, yes. We're passin' through," returned Bud, without hesitation. +"You see, we belong down south in the 'T.T.' an' 'O----' country." + +"That so?" Ju reached a box of cigars and thrust them at the new +customer. "Smoke?" he enquired. His generosity was by no means +uncalculated. + +Bud helped himself, and in response to Ju's "Your friend?" he called +across to Jeff at the window. But Jeff shook his head, and the +saloon-keeper was given an opportunity of studying his set features, +and the premature lines he saw graven upon them. He withdrew the box +and turned his attention to the more amenable Bud. + +"It's a swell country down your ways," he observed cordially. Then he +added, "You ain't been cussed with a gang o' toughs raidin' stock, +neither, same as we have fer the last fi' years. But they're out. Oh, +yes, they're sure out. Yes, siree, you guessed right. Ther's sure +been some play around here. As neat a hangin' as I've see in +thirty-five year tryin' to figger out the sort o' sense stewin' in the +think tanks o' the crazy guys who live in cities an' make up po'try +about grass. Mebbe you've heard all the play?" + +Bud shook his head. He drank up his lager, and took the opportunity of +glancing over his glass at Jeff's back. Then he set his glass down and +ordered another bottle for both of them. + +"No," he observed. "I ain't heard much. I heard there's been some +hangin'. The Lightfoot gang, eh? Seems to me I've heard talk of 'em +down our way. So you boys here got in on 'em?" + +Ju set the two fresh bottles on the counter while Bud lit his cigar. + +"That's so," he said with appreciation, and propped his folded arms +upon the bar. "It sort o' come sudden, too." He smiled faintly. "It +come as I said it would right here in this bar. The boys was settin' +around sousing, an' pushin' round the cyards, an' the Vigilante +Committee was settin' on a pow-wow. I was tellin' 'em ef the folks had +the sense of a blind louse they'd dope out a reward, an' make it big. +I guessed they'd get the gang quick that way. Y'see, it don't matter +who it is, folks is all after dollars--if there's only enough of 'em. +Life's jest made up of two sorts o' guys, the fellers with dollars an' +them without. Wal, I guess it's a sort o' play goes right on all the +time. You just raise hell around till you get 'em, the other fellers +raise hell till you ain't. It's a sort o' give and take, though I +reckon the taking seems to be the general scheme adopted. That's how +it comes Lightfoot an' his gang got a nasty kink in most o' their +necks. It's them dollars. Some wise guy around here jest took himself +by the neck and squeezed out a present of ten thousand dollars to the +feller who'd sell up Lightfoot's good-will an' business. What +happened? Why, it took jest about twenty-four hours for the +transaction to be put through. Say, ever hear tell of a time when +ther' wa'an't some feller waiting ready to grab on to ten thousand +dollars? No, sir. You never did. No, nor no one else, 'cep' he spent +the whole of his life in the foolish house." + +"Some one betrayed 'em--for ten thousand dollars?" + +Bud's question came with a sharp edge to it. + +"Don't guess 'betray's' the word, mister. It was jest a commercial +transaction. You jest need to get a right understanding of them +things. When I got something to sell, an' you're yearnin' to dope out +the dollars for it--say ten thousand of 'em--why, I don't guess there's +anything else to it but a straight business proposition." + +"So you netted the ten thousand?" enquired Bud, in his simplest fashion. + +"Me? Gee! Say, if them ten thousand dollars had wafted my way I'd +have set this city crazy drunk fer a week. No, sir," he added, with a +coldly gloomy shake of the head. "That's jest about the pain I'm +sufferin' right now. Some mighty slick aleck's helped hisself to them +dollars, an' I don't know who--nor does anybody else, 'cep' him who +paid 'em." + +Bud realized the man's shameless earnestness, but passed it by. He was +seeking information. It was what he and Jeff had come for. The manner +of this man was coldly callous, and he knew that every word he uttered +was a lash applied to the bruised soul of the man by the window. +Irresistible sympathy made him turn about. + +"Here's your lager, Jeff," he said, in his easiest fashion. He had no +desire that Ju should be made aware of the trouble that Jeff was +laboring under. + +Jeff replied at once. His readiness and even cheerfulness of manner +surprised Bud. But it relieved him as well. + +"Bully!" he cried, as he came back to the bar. "I was just gettin' a +look around at the--city." He turned to Ju with his shadowy smile +which almost broke Bud's heart. "Quite a place, eh?" + +"Place? Wal, it's got points I allow. So's hell ef you kin look at it +right." Ju lit a cigar and hid nearly half of it in his capacious +mouth. "I'd say," he went on, with a certain satisfaction, "ther's +more mush-headed souses in this lay out to the square yard than I've +ever heard tell of in any other city. Ef it wa'an't that way I +couldn't see myself wastin' a valuable life lookin' at grass, hearin' +talk of grass, smellin' grass, an' durned nigh eatin' grass. I tell +you right here it takes me countin' my legs twice a day to keep me from +the delusion I got four, an' every time I got to shake my head at some +haf soused bum who's needin' credit I'm scared to death my blamed +ears'll start right in flappin'. Why, yes, I guess it's some place--if +you don't know no other." + +Bud was eager to get to the end of the task he had assumed for his +friend. He wanted the facts, all the facts as far as they were +available, of the terrible enactments in that valley of his early youth. + +"An' who antied the price?" he demanded. + +"Who? Why, the President of the Western Union Cattle Breeders' +Association--Dug McFarlane." + +"And you don't know who--accepted it?" + +It was Jeff who put the question, and Bud, looking on, saw the steely +gleam that lit the man's eyes as he spoke. + +But Ju's amiability was passing. He was getting tired of a subject +which dealt with another man's profit. He rolled his cigar across his +mouth. + +"Here. Guess I best tell you the yarn as we know it. Y'see," he added +regretfully, "we ain't learned a heap 'cep' jest the racket of it. Dug +set up the reward overnight. Next night twenty-five of the boys rode +out with him to the hills. Ther' was some guy with 'em leadin'. But +none of the boys come up with him. He rode with Dug. We've all +guessed, but I don't reckon we know, or'll ever know. You see, he got +shot up they say by Lightfoot himself. However, it don't signify. I +got my notions 'bout it, an' anyway I guess they're jest my own. The +boys guess it was one of the gang itself. Mebbe it was. Can't rightly +say. After they'd located the camp they set out to surround it. It +was in a bluff. The scrap started right away, an' there was a deal o' +shootin'. One or two o' the boys got shot up bad. Then some one fired +the bluff, an' burned 'em right out like a crowd of gophers. After +that the scrap came good an' plenty, an' it seems to've lasted nigh an +hour. Anyways, they got three of 'em. They shot up several others, +an' not more than three got clear away." + +"An' what about Lightfoot?" It was Bud who spoke. His voice was +changed from its usual deep tone. It was sharp, and almost impatient. + +"They got him," said Ju, with a delight so evident that Bud felt like +killing him for it. "Oh, yes, they got him, sure. A dandy gent with +his blue eyes an' curly, tow hair. They don't guess that's his right +name tho'. But it don't signify. He was the boss all right, all +right, an' they took him, an' hanged him with the other two, right out +of hand. Gee, I'd have give a deal to have seen----" + +"We'll have to be pushing on now, Bud." + +Jeff spoke with his head bent, examining the face of his gold +timepiece. Bud glanced at him. He could see the ghastly hue of the +averted features, and his answer came on the instant. + +"You git the ponies cinched up, Jeff," he said quickly. "I'll be right +with you." + +Ju watched Jeff hurry out of the bar. Then his eyes came searchingly +back to Bud's grimly set face. + +"Kind o' seems in a hurry, don't he?" he demanded, with a curious look +in his hard eyes. "Looks sick, too. Say, I didn't git his name right. +Mebbe he's traveling around incog.--ain't that the word?" + +There was no mistaking the suggestion in the man's half-smiling, +half-sneering manner. The ranchman understood it only too well. He +understood most of the ways and expressions of the men of the prairie. +The hot blood surged under his calm exterior. His gray eyes, so +accustomed to smiling, snapped dangerously. But his reply came with +the same ease which he had displayed most of the time. + +"Wal, I don't guess ther's no myst'ry 'bout either of us, which you +kind o' seem you'd like to think. Jeff Masters of the 'O----'s' is +well enough known to most folks, who got any sort o' knowledge of these +parts. An' ther's quite a few folks around here, including Dug +McFarlane, li'ble to remember the name of Bud Tristram, of the +'T.T.'s.' But you're sure right in guessin' he's in a hurry to quit. +Ther's some places, an' some folks, it ain't good to see a heap of. +Ther's fellers with minds like sinks, an' others with natures like +rattlers. Neither of them things is as wholesome as a Sunday-school, I +allow. Jeff ain't yearnin' to explore no sinks, human or any other. +An' I've generally noticed his favorite pastime is killin' rattlers. +So it's jest about the only thing to do--quit this saloon, same as I'm +goin' to do. But say, 'fore I go I'd jest like to hand you this. +Justice is justice, an' we all need to take our dope when it comes our +way. But ther' ain't no right on this blamed earth fer any feller to +whoop it up at another feller's misdoin's, an' his ultimate undoin'. +An' you kin take it how you fancy when I say only the heart of a louse +could feel that-a-way--an' that's about the lowest I know how to hand +you." + +Bud's eyes were shining dangerously. They were squarely looking into +the hard face of the saloon-keeper. Not the movement of an eyelid +escaped him. He literally seemed to devour the unwholesome picture +confronting him. The aggressive chin beard, the continual mastication +of the cigar which protruded from the corner of the mouth. There was +deadly fury lurking behind Ju's cruel eyes. But the looked-for +physical display was withheld, and Bud finally turned and walked slowly +out of the bar. + + * * * * * * + +It was some minutes since a word had passed between the two men. Jeff +had nothing to say, and Bud's sympathy was too deep for words. He was +waiting for the younger man to fight his battle to its logical end. He +knew, only too well, all that Jeff had suffered since the moment of +that gruesome discovery in the Cathills valley. It had been no figure +of speech when Jeff had described his twin brother as part of himself. +The shock the man had received was, to Bud's mind, as though his heart +had been torn asunder. Hanged as a cattle thief! Was there anything +more dire, more terrible in the imagination of man than to suddenly +find that his well-loved brother, twin body of his own, was a cattle +thief, possibly a murderer, and had been hanged by his fellow-men? It +was a thought to leave the simple Bud staggered. And for the victim of +the shock it might well mean the mental breaking point. + +Jeff was fighting out his battle with an almost super-human courage. +Bud knew that. It was written in every detail of his attitude. In the +straining of his blue eyes, in the deep knitting of his fair strong +brows, in the painful lines ploughing deeper and deeper about his +mouth, and the set of his strong jaws. + +No. There was no thought of breaking in upon the boy's black moments +of suffering. He must fight his own battle now, once and for all. +When victory had been achieved, then perhaps his sympathy might become +helpful. But till then nothing but the necessities of their journey +must be allowed to intrude between them. + +So they rode over the southern trail. The noontide sun scorched the +parching earth with a blistering heat, drinking up the last moisture +which the tall prairie grass sought to secrete at its attenuated roots. +The world about them was unchanged. Every scene was similar in its +characteristics to all that which had become their lives. Yet Bud knew +that for one of them, at least, the whole of life, and everything +pertaining to it, had been completely and terribly distorted. + +But the character of Jeffrey Masters was stronger and fiercer than Bud +knew. For all his suffering there was no yielding in him. There had +been moments when his soul had cried out in agony. There had been +moments when the hideousness of his weak brother's fall had driven him +to the verge of madness. But with each yielding to suffering had come +a rally of passionate force that would not be overborne, and gradually +mastery supervened. + +Ten miles out of Orrville on the homeward journey Bud received his +first intimation that the battle was waning. It came almost as a +shock. They had passed a long stretch of flat grass-land, and were +breasting an incline. Jeff, on the lead, had reined his horse down to +a walk. In a moment they were riding abreast, with Bud's pack pony in +between them. Jeff turned his bloodshot eyes upon his friend, then +they turned again to the trail. + +"There's nothing now, Bud, but to get ahead with all our plans and +schemes," he said. "We must drive ahead without any looking back. +There's still things in life, I guess, that's worth while, and I'd say +not the least of 'em is--work." + +He paused. He had been gazing straight ahead to disguise his effort. +Now he turned and looked into the face of his friend, and thrust his +hat back on his head. + +"It's been tough, Bud. So tough I don't know how I got through. Guess +I shouldn't have without you. You see, Bud, you never said a thing, +and--and that saved me. Guess I'm sort of tired now. Tired of +thinking, tired of--everything. But it's over, and now I sort of feel +I've got to get busy, or I'll forget how to play the man. I don't +guess I'll ever hope to forget. No, I don't want to forget. I +couldn't, just as I couldn't forget that there's some one in the world +took ten thousand dollars as the price of Ronny's poor foolish life. +Oh, it's pretty bad," he sighed wearily. "But--I've closed the book, +Bud, and please God I'll never open it again." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +FOUR YEARS LATER + +Nan Tristram smiled to herself as she sat in the comfortable rocker +before the open French window which gave on to the wide wooden balcony +beyond. The view she had was one of considerable charm, for Aston's +Hotel was situated facing one end of Maple Avenue, looking straight +down its length, which was at once the principal and most beautiful +thoroughfare in the picturesque western city of Calthorpe. + +But her smile had nothing to do with anything the prospect yielded her. +Its beauties were undeniable; she had admitted them to herself many +times. But she knew them with that intimacy which robs things of their +first absorbing charm. The wide-spreading maple trees, which so +softened down the cold beauty of the large stone-fronted residences +lining the avenue, were always a source of soothing influence in the +excited delight of a visit to this busy and flourishing city. Then the +vista of lofty hills beyond the far limits of the town, with their +purpling tints, their broken facets, their dimly defined woodland +belts, they made such a wonderful backing to the civilized foreground. + +Nan Tristram loved the place. For her, full of the dreams of youth, +Calthorpe was the hub of all that suggested life and gaiety. It was +the one city she knew. It was the holiday resort of the girl born and +bred to the arduous, and sometimes monotonous life of the plains. + +But it was, in reality, a place of even greater significance. Nan saw +it only as it appealed to her ardent fancy. But Calthorpe was a +flourishing and buoyant city of "live" people, who were fully aware of +its favorable possibilities as the centre of the richest agricultural +region in the whole of the State of Montana. + +It was overflowing with prosperity. The ranching community, and the +rich grain growers for miles around, poured their wealth into it, and +sought its light-hearted life for the amusement of their families and +themselves. Its social life was the life of the country, and to take +part in it needed the qualification of many acres, or much stock, a +bank balance that required no careful scrutiny, and a temperament +calculated to absorb readily the joy of living. + +It was something of this joy of living which was stirring now, lighting +the girl's soft brown eyes with that tender whimsical smile which was +never very far from them. She was resting after the early excitements +of the day. It was her twenty-second birthday, and, in consequence, +with so devoted a father, a day of no small importance. She had been +warned by that solicitous parent to "go--an' have a sleep, so you don't +peter right out when the fun gets good an' plenty." But Nan had no use +for sleep just now. She had no use for anything that might rob her of +one moment of the delight and excitement of the Calthorpe Cattle Week, +as it was called. Therefore she undutifully abandoned herself to a +pleasurable review of events whilst waiting for the next act in the +day's play to begin. + +And what a review it made in her understanding of the life about her. +It was four years since her father and Jeff Masters had signed their +partnership, and she knew that to-day, on the second day of _the_ week, +the triumph of the great "Obar" Ranch, which her father and Jeffrey +Masters had so laboriously and patiently built up, was to be completed. +Now, even while she sat there gazing from her window at the panorama of +life passing up and down the broad expanse of Maple Avenue, the Council +of the Western Union Cattle Breeders' Association was sitting for its +annual conference and election of officers. And had she not already +been confidentially warned that Jeff was to be the forthcoming year's +president? + +It was the crowning event in the long dreamed dreams of the two men +whom she frankly admitted to herself were nearest and dearest to her. +Why should she not admit it? Her father? Ah, yes, her father was the +most perfect, kindly, sympathetic father that ever lived. And Jeff? A +warm thrill swept through her heart and set it beating tumultuously. +Jeff was her whole sum and substance of life itself. + +Well enough she knew that no other bond than that of friendship existed +between them; that no word had ever passed between them which might not +have passed in the daily intercourse between brother and sister. But +this did not cause her to shrink from the admission. Jeff was her +whole horizon in life. There was no detail of her focus which was not +occupied by the image of the man whom she regarded as the genius of +their fortunes. + +There were moments enough when she realized with something akin to +dismay that Jeff and she _were_ friends. But her gentle humor always +served her at such moments. And there was always the lukewarm +consolation that there was no other woman who had even a similar claim. +Therefore she hugged her secret to herself, and only gazed upon it in +such moments of happy dreaming as the present. + +And just now they were happy moments. How could it be otherwise in a +girl so healthy, and with such a depth of human feeling and with such a +capacity for sheer enjoyment of the simple pleasures which came her +way? What an evening yet confronted her in this brief week of holiday +from the claims of the green-brown plains of summer. She must be ready +at seven o'clock for the reception at the City Hall. She had a new +gown for that particular event, which had, amongst others, been bought +in New York. It had cost one hundred and thirty dollars, an +unthinkable price it had seemed, but dismissed as something too paltry +to be considered by the open-handed ranchman whom she claimed as father. + +She was to assist Jeff and her father in receiving the guests, who +would represent all the heads of their cattle world, and their friends, +and their wives, and their daughters. And after that the banquet, +which, since the inauguration of the Association, had always taken +place, here at Aston's Hotel. + +There would be speeches. Jeff would speak, and her father--no, she +hoped he wouldn't speak. Her smile deepened. He had such a way of +saying just what came into his funny, simple old head, and such a +curious vocabulary. Then, after the banquet, the--Ball! + +The girl emitted a deep ecstatic sigh. The ball! It was the crowning +glory, and--she had a beautiful new gown for each event. It was a +ravishing thought. Perhaps a mere man may be forgiven his lack of +imagination in his appreciation of such perfect, unutterable delight. +But Nan had no cloud to obscure her sun. The labor of dressing afresh, +three times in one evening without a maid, except the questionable +assistance of a hotel chambermaid, had no terrors for her--none +whatever. + +Her day-dreaming was interrupted by an immoderate thump on the door. +She turned her head at once, her pretty dancing eyes alight with +expectancy. + +"That you, Dad?" she called. + +"Sure, Nan." Then came a fumbling at the door handle. + +"You can come right in," the girl cried, without moving from her chair. + +The door was thrust open, and the sunburnt face with its shock of +curling iron gray hair and whiskers appeared round it. The deep-set +eyes surveyed the room, and took on a look of deep concern. + +"Say, Nan," he cried, "you'll never git fixed in time. I jest give you +the limit of time before I got around. You see, I didn't fancy you not +gettin' a good slep." + +The girl shook her pretty head and smiled as she observed the careful +toilet she felt sure her father had spent the whole afternoon upon. +She sprang from her chair and surveyed him critically, with her head +judicially poised on one side, and her pretty ripe lips slightly pursed. + +"Everything's bully but that bow tie," she declared, after a +considering pause. "Just come right here and I'll fix it. Say, Dad, I +envy you men. Was there ever a nicer looking suit for men than evening +clothes? I'm--kind of proud of my Daddy, with his wide chest and good +figure. And that white waistcoat. My, but you don't look as if you'd +ever branded a calf in your life. It's only your dear handsome face +gives you away, and--and the backs of your hands." + +Nan laughed as she retied the tie to her satisfaction, the fashion in +which a girl loves to see a bow tied. The man submitted meekly, but +with concern for her final remark. + +"But I scrubbed 'em both--sore," he declared anxiously. + +"I don't mean they're dirty, Daddy," the girl laughed. "Was there ever +such a simple, simple soul? It's the wholesome mahogany tan which the +wind and the sun have dyed them. Say, there, get a peek at yourself in +that glass." She thrust him toward a wall mirror. "It's not girls +only who need a mirror, when a man is good to look at, Daddy, is it? +Honest? It doesn't make you hate yourself, nor feel foolish. I guess +there's men folks who'd have you think that way, but if I know anything +they'd hate to be without a mirror when they're fixing themselves for a +party where there's to be some nice looking women, and where they're to +be something better than just a 'stray' blown in." + +Bud laughed at the rapid flow of the girl's banter. But he had by no +means forgotten his own concern. + +"But, say, Nan, you hain't got time for foolin' around. You surely +hain't. It's haf after five, an' we're due at the City Hall seven, +sharp. Y'see, you ain't like us fellers who don't need no fixin' to +speak of. An' you're helpin' us to receive the folks----" + +Nan's delighted laugh rippled through the pleasant room. + +"Oh, my Daddy," she cried, with wide, accusing eyes, "you're the best +laugh in a month." Then she held up one admonishing finger before her +dancing eyes. "Now the truth. What was the minute you started to make +yourself--pretty?" + +She sat herself upon a table before him with the evident purpose of +enjoying to the full the delighted feelings of the moment. + +Bud eyed her steadily. He knew he was to be cornered. Nor would it be +for the first time. The relation between these two was that of a +delightful companionship in which the frequent measuring of wit held no +inconsiderable place amidst a deep abiding affection. + +"Say--a touch of the north wind around, Nan, eh?" he smiled. + +"Never mind the north wind, Daddy," Nan laughed. "Just when? That's +what I need to know now." + +The man's fingers sought his crisply curling hair. + +"No, no," cried Nan, in pretended alarm, "Guess you're going to undo an +hour's work that way." + +Bud dropped his hand in real dismay. + +"Guess I plumb forgot. Wal, say, since you got to know, I'd say it +must ha' bin right after din--I mean luncheon. You see, I'd----" + +"Ah, say three o'clock." Nan leaned forward, her pretty face supported +on the knuckles of her clasped hands, her elbows resting upon her +knees. "Oh, Daddy--and you aren't due at the party till seven. Four +hours. Four valuable hours sitting around in your dandy new suit of +evening clothes. Vanity. Pure vanity. We're all the same, men who +_don't_ need--fixing, and women who _do_. Only you men won't admit it. +Women do. They surely do. Any woman's ready to admit she'd rather +look nicer than any other woman than be all sorts of a girl other ways. +And though they don't ever reckon to admit it, men just feel that way, +too. Oh, I guess I know. The boys are just yearning for the girls to +think there's nothing but big 'thinks' moving around in their +well-greased heads. And they'd hate a girl who got the notion they had +time to stand around gawking in a mirror to see their clothes set +right, or study the look they're going to pour into the china blue eyes +of some tow-headed bundle who knows his bank wad down to the last cent." + +She sighed heavily, but her eyes were literally dancing. + +"But it's kind of nice that boys act that way," she went on. "It does +give a girl a chance to think him all sorts of a god for--a while. +Say, if she knew things just as they are, where'd she find that scrap +of romance which makes life all sunshine and storm clouds, instead of +the monotonous gray it really is?" + +She pointed at the snowy bed laden with the precious costumes she must +use before the night was out. + +"Say, wouldn't it be just awful if every girl knew that the man +she'd--marked down for her own, worried around with things like that +before every party he was to take her to, same as she does? I guess +she'll learn it all later when she marries him, and has two folks to +worry for instead of one. But, meanwhile, she just dreams that he's +dreaming those 'big thinks' that's going, some time, to set a dreaming +world wide awake to the mighty 'thinks' she dreams into her beau's +head." + +Then she began to laugh, and the infection of it caught her father, who +gurgled heavily in chorus. + +"Say, wouldn't it be a real circus if a big, strong man had to act the +same as us poor women? I mean when we're scheming to stir up a +sensation in the hearts of men, and in the envy depot of other girls, +when we enter the portals of a swell social gathering. Now Jeff. Say, +my Daddy, can you see him sort of mincing across the floor," she cried, +springing from her seat and pantomiming across the room, "smiling, and +smirking and bowing, this way and that, all done up in fancy bows, and +sheeny satins, and--and with combs in his sleek hair to hold it in +place, and with a jeweled tiara set on top of it? And then--yes, just +a teeny tiny touch of powder on his nose? My word!" + +A happy chorus of laughter rang through the room as she returned to her +seat, Bud's coming in great unrestrained gusts. They were like two +irresponsible children rather than father and daughter. + +"Oh, dear. And you, too," laughed Nan. "We can't leave you out of the +picture. Being of more mature years I guess you'd sweep in--that's the +way--sweep in gowned--at your age you don't dance around in +'frocks'--in something swell, and rich, and of sober hue. Oh, dear, +oh, dear. Guess we'd have to match your mahogany face. Wine color, +eh? No 'cute little bows for you. Just beads and bugles, whatever +they are. But we'd let you play around with some tinted mixing of +powder for your nose, or--or we'd sure spoil the picture to death. My, +I'd die laughing." + +Bud's amusement threatened to burst the white bonds which held his vast +neck. + +"Oh, quit it, Nan," he cried, with his beaming face rapidly purpling. +Then he struggled for seriousness. "I didn't get around to listen to +your foolin', child." Then he bestirred himself to a great display of +parental admonishment. "Now, see right here, Nan, I'll get back in an +hour. Maybe Jeff's fixin' himself the way you said. I can't jest say. +But anyways he's the big feller to-night, an' it's up to you to worry +out so you can be a credit to him, an' me, an' the 'Obar.'" Then he +came across to her and took her affectionately by the shoulders, and +gazed down into her face with twinkling, kindly eyes. "Say, you got +more to work on than most gals. You sure have, Nan. Yep. Your poor +ma was a pictur', an' you're a pictur'. An' I ain't goin' to say which +of you had claim for the best framing. Anyway, what you have in your +pretty face you owe to the dear woman who never had a chance of the +framing you can have. So jest remember it, Nan--and thank her." + +Nan's eyes had completely sobered at the mention of her dead mother, +whom she scarcely remembered, and earnestness and affection replaced +all her mirth. + +"Maybe I owe it her," she said, suddenly releasing herself from the +heavy hands, and rising from her seat. Then she reached up and slipped +her soft arms about the man's neck. "And what do I owe to you? +Nothing? Ah, my Daddy, I guess you can shake your funny head till you +muss up its contents to an addle. I'll not forget what I owe my momma, +and just thank her all I know, but I'm thanking you too--just as hard." + +She tiptoed until she was able to kiss him on the cheek. Then her +ready smile broke out afresh, and she gently pushed him toward the door. + +"Who is it wasting my time? There," she cried, as she opened the door, +and her father vanished through it, "get right out, and don't you dare +come back for an hour." + +The ranchman's laugh echoed down the corridor as he moved away. Then +Nan, practical and sober once more, closed the door and rang for the +chambermaid. + + * * * * * * + +Whatever success could be claimed for the men who had founded and built +up the "Obar" Ranch, and it was more than considerable, the triumph of +that night was in no small measure to the credit of Nan Tristram. + +But when it was all over, when the last of the three beautiful gowns +had been tucked tenderly away in the drawers which were their temporary +home, and Nan was left to the night solitude in which to go over once +more in her secret thoughts each keenly vivid detail of the +kaleidoscopic play of events as they had swept past her during the +evening, they found her soberly wondering if, after all, the +anticipated delight had been realized. Was it possible in all that +unquestioned success there had been no delight, no real enjoyment at +all? It seemed impossible. It was impossible, and she tried to put +the thought out of her mind. But it refused to be banished. It +returned again--and again, and, in desperation, not untouched with +panic, she assured herself that she was tired--very tired, and this +silly feeling was the result. Then, too, her humor was summoned, and +it warned her of the quantity of ice cream she had devoured at the +ball. It told her her digestion had suffered in consequence. And this +she thought was a pity, because she loved ice cream. + +But humor was swept aside by a far keener emotion. She scorned the +idea of indigestion. She had no pain _there_. But there was pain, a +silly ache about her heart which robbed her of all desire for sleep. + +She tried to console herself by recalling her father's quaintly +expressed admiration of her, when he first beheld her in her new and +costly gown. What was it? + +"Why, say, Nan, when I look at you I sort o' feel as if two fellers had +bin at work fixin' you, a po't an' a painter, Seems as if they'd set +their mushy heads together, an' each had doped out what the other +couldn't, till ther' ain't a thing left fer the fancy of plain +mule-headed sort o' bussocks like me." + +Curious as his method of expression had been she had understood and +thrilled with delight. But almost at once her thoughts flew on to much +later when she was gliding through the dancing crowd at the ball. His +eyes had followed her everywhere. But there was a change in their +expression. To her it was a complete change. To her the simple +approval had been replaced by a gleam of sympathetic concern. But this +was after--after the first cloud had settled upon her hope of unalloyed +enjoyment. Perhaps the look had not been there at all. Perhaps it was +simply her own feelings finding reflection for her where none existed. + +She became impatient with herself and grasped at the memory of Jeff's +greeting when she had first appeared in the hotel parlor, equipped for +the reception. + +He had not said much. But that was always Jeff's way. But there had +been his quick smile of unusual satisfaction. And the words of +greeting had sprung quite spontaneously to his lips. + +"Say, Nan, you're--you're just great." + +The hesitation in the middle of it had told her even more than his +smiling admiration. It was almost like--and she thrilled as she +thought it--a gasp for breath. + +She strove hard to support herself with these memories, out even as she +considered them her mind passed on to the reception, and that stupid +ache supervened once more. Instantly her focus narrowed down. There +were only two figures in it. The rest merely provided a setting for +these two. All the lights, the decorations, the beautiful costumes and +smiling faces, these became an indistinct blurr, leaving the image of +Mrs. Elvine van Blooren and a man standing vividly out. + +What a wonderful, wonderful picture of radiant womanhood Mrs. Van +Blooren had made! Even in her trouble Nan was generous. The woman was +beautiful in a way that poor Nan had only dreamed of. The Madonna-like +features, calm, perfect. The dark hair, superb in the simplicity of +its dressing. She remembered that at the first glance it had suggested +to her the sheen of a cloudless summer night. And her gown, and her +figure. The gown must have cost--ah, Nan could not appraise its cost. +She had had insufficient experience. Her own maximum had been reached +only now, and the sum seemed to her as paltry as her father had made it +appear. The one certainty that remained with her, however, was that +the taste displayed in Mrs. Van Blooren's gown had placed it beyond +such a thing as mere material value. + +And then her heart had seemed to stand still. It appeared that Jeff, +who was talking to some other people, and she had become aware of Mrs. +Van Blooren's presence at the same moment. For when Nan glanced in his +direction he was gazing fixedly at the newcomer with a look in his +steady blue eyes which she had never beheld in them before. Oh, yes, +there had been no mistaking that look. She knew she was not clever, +but she was a woman, and no woman could ever mistake such a look in the +eyes of a man. + +But worse was to follow. There was a respite for her in the activities +of the reception. For Jeff was as busily occupied as she was. Then, +too, at the banquet she had ample time to recover from the shock. But +the ball came, and they were both released from their duties, and +everybody was left free to dance as only the western people love to +dance. + +It was then that her bitter cup was filled to overflowing. Jeff danced +six times with Mrs. Van Blooren. Six times, and one supper extra, +while she had to content herself with a miserable two dances with the +one man who, to her stood out foremost among all men. + +It was during the long hours of that dreary ball that she had +encountered her father's curious regard, and now she wondered if he had +seen what she had seen. If he had understood as she understood. + +Nan wanted to cry. As she lay there on her snowy bed, restless, and +wakeful, and troubled, there were certainly moments when her tired eyes +filled with tears. But she did not, would not cry. She smiled to +herself, and even laughed. She ridiculed herself and made jest of her +absurd pretensions. She told herself a hundred times she had no claim +upon Jeff. He was free to do as he chose, to dance all night with any +Mrs. Van Blooren. + +But when, at last, the first beam of daylight penetrated the light +material of the window blinds, and slowly flooded the room, it found +Nan in a troubled sleep with two great unshed tears slowly welling in +the corners of her eyes, and ready to fall heavily and sadly down the +perfect moulding of her softly rounded cheeks. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE POLO CLUB RACES + +The race-track at Calthorpe was a matter of no small pride to its +citizens. Any western city could possess broad and beautiful avenues. +Any city might well boast hotels of six, eight, or even ten floors, and +express elevators, and things of that sort. A cathedral was not +unknown even, and electric surface cars. But a race-track--a +recognized race-track--which was included in the official western +circuit of race meetings, was certainly a matter for more than ordinary +pride. + +Such regard was undoubtedly meted out to it, and as a corollary there +were prophets in the city who foresaw the later development of a +Country Club, with a golf course, and the provision for every other +outdoor sport under its luxurious administration. Those who could +afford such luxuries pretended to look upon these things as +indispensable, and those who couldn't regarded them with simple pride, +and lived in the glamour of their reflected glory, and told each other +how such things should be administered. + +Such developments, however, were for the future. The race-track +existed, and, amongst its many other delights, it supplied the cranks +with a text for frequent sermons. + +It was set in a luxurious woodland dip, well beyond the town limits, +and occupied a small flat of rich grass through which a mountain creek +wound its ridiculously tortuous course. Thus it was provided with the +natural resources demanded by a steeplechase course as well as the +"flat." + +It was a toy which the wealth of the neighborhood had been poured out +upon with no niggard hand, till it found itself possessed of a +miniature grand stand, a paddock and loose boxes, for the use of many a +pony whose normal days were spent roaming wild upon the plains. Then +there was the Polo Club House and ground, where many of the city's +social functions were held. The whole thing was as pretentious as +money could make it, and in due proportion it was attractive to the +minds of those who believed themselves leaders in their social world. + +Nan Tristram understood all this and smiled at it, just as she +understood that to absent oneself from the Polo Club Races in Cattle +Week would be to send in one's resignation from the exclusive social +circles to which she belonged, a position quite unthinkable for one who +sought only the mild excitements which pertain to early youth. + +The noon following the ball, and all the disturbed moments which it +inspired, found Nan on the way to the Polo Club Races. Her party was +riding, and it was an extensive party. There were some twenty and more +saddles. Luncheon had been sent on ahead, catered for by Aston's Hotel +at Jeffrey Masters' expense, one of the many social duties which his +election to the Presidency of the Western Union Cattle Breeders' +Association entitled him to undertake during the Cattle Week. + +It was a gay party, mostly made up of young and prosperous ranchmen, +and the girls belonging to their little world. Nor among them could +have been found any one more brightly debonair and attractive than Nan +Tristram. + +There was never a sign about her of the disquieting thoughts of +overnight. Such things might never have been. Her eyes, so soft and +brown, were sparkling with that joy of life which never fails in its +attraction even for the most serious mind. She sat her brown mare +astride with the easy grace of a born horsewoman. Her equipment lacked +no detail in its comparison with that of the other women. Bud's +warning on this point had fallen upon willing and attentive ears when +he had handed the girl a signed blank check. And the old man had found +ample reward for his generosity in the rivalry amongst the men for his +"gal's" escort. + +The only shadow which fell across his enjoyment had occurred when he +beheld Jeff leading the cavalcade at the side of Mrs. Van Blooren. But +in Nan's case it seemed to give not the smallest qualm. Her one single +purpose seemed to be to obtain a maximum of enjoyment at the side of +young Bill Dugdale, a college-bred youth of more than ordinary repute +as a prosperous cattleman. + +The day was fresh for midsummer. The sky was ruffled with great +billowing white summer clouds, and a cool northwest breeze was coming +off the mountain tops. The whole world about them was assuming that +tawny green of the ripening season, and the trail was sufficiently +dusty for its abandonment in favor of the bordering grass. But if +midsummer reigned over Nature, Spring, fresh, radiant Spring was in the +hearts of those seeking the mild excitement of Calthorpe's race-track. + +Nan and young Dugdale laughed and chattered their way in the wake of +the several couples ahead. Dugdale's desire to please was more than +evident. And Nan was at no time difficult. Just now she seemed to +enter into the spirit of everything with a zest which sent the man's +hopes soaring skyward. + +Once only during the brief ride did the girl give the least sign that +her interest lay on anything but her good-looking escort. It was at a +moment when Dugdale was pointing out to her the humorous inspiration of +his own registered cattle brand. + +"You see, 'B.B.' don't sound much of a scream, Miss Tristram," he said, +in great seriousness. "I don't guess it's likely to set you falling +out of your saddle in one wild hysterical whoop of unrestrained mirth. +Course I'm known by it, same as you're known by the 'Obar,' but some of +the language the boys fix to my brand 'ud set a Baptist minister +hollerin' help. Say, I can't hand you it all. I just can't, that's +all. 'Bill's Bughouse' is sort of skimmed milk to pea soup. Then +there's 'Bill's Boneyard.' That wouldn't offend any one but my +foreman. 'Busy Bee' kind of hands me a credit I don't guess I'm +entitled to. But there's others smack of the intelligence of badly +raised hogs." Then he laughed. "The truth is, when I first pitched +camp on Lime Creek I wasn't as wise to things ranching as a +Sunday-school committee. I lived mostly on beans an' bacon, and when +the boys fell in at night, why, I don't guess there was much beside +beans and bacon to keep 'em from falling into a state of coma on my +blankets. It generally fixed them right, and I'm bound to say they +never seemed to find they couldn't sit a saddle after it. Yes, and hit +the trail for fifty miles, if there was fresh meat at the end of it. I +sort of got known around as 'Beans and Bacon.' Then it was abbreviated +to B.B. And so when I registered my brand it just seemed natural to +set down B.B." + +Nan's laugh was very genuine. Dugdale's ingenuous manner always +pleased her. + +"You hadn't learned prairie hospitality," she said. "You surely were +committing a grave offense." + +The man was full of pretended penitence. + +"I don't guess that needed _learning_!" he said, with a wry smile. +"The boys just handed it to me same as a parson hands a heart-to-heart +talk on things you're hatin' to hear about. Oh, I was put wise quick. +But when you've got just about ten thousand dollars that's telling you +you're all sorts of a fool, and you're yearning for 'em to believe +you're a twin brother to Pierpont Morgan, why, you don't feel your +hide's made of gossamer, and don't care a cuss if folks start right in +to hammer tacks into it for shoe leather." + +"And the dollars? You convinced them?" Nan's eyes were full of humor. + +"Convinced 'em?" The man's eyes opened wide. "Say, Miss Tristram, it +was a mighty big argument. Oh, yes, and I guess there were times when +we come near bein' such bad friends that I wanted to hand 'em right on +to the nearest saloon-keeper I could find. But in the end I won. Oh, +I won. I just told 'em right out what I thought of 'em, and their +parents, and their ancestors, and their forthcoming progeny, and--that, +seemed to fix things. They got civil then. Sort of raised their hats, +and--got busy. You'd be astonished if you saw the way they hatched +out--after that. You see," he added whimsically, "there's just about +only one way of makin' life act the way you need it. Set your back +teeth into the seat of things, and--hang on." + +But Nan's reply was slow in coming, and her usually ready laugh was not +in evidence. His final remark had brought very near the surface all +those feelings and thoughts she had striven so hard to bury where they +could no longer offend. It seemed to the man that her eyes had grown +unnecessarily serious. But then he did not know that there was any +unusual interest for her in the fact that Jeff Masters was escorting +Mrs. Van Blooren. + +When she did speak it was with her gaze fixed upon the couple ahead. + +"Yes, that's it," she said. "Hang on. Hang on with every ounce of +courage and strength you've got. And if you've got to go under, why, I +guess it's best done with a smile, eh?" Quite abruptly she indicated +the woman in front. "I do think she's real beautiful, don't you?" + +"Who?" The man had no concern for anybody at that moment but the girl +at his side. + +"Who? Say, aren't you just foolish. I was thinking of Mrs. Van +Blooren." + +The man laughed. + +"I surely am," he declared. "And I've won prizes for thought-reading +at parlor games, too." + +They both laughed. Then Nan went on with a persistence which was quite +lost upon the thought-reader. + +"Who is she? Mrs. Van Blooren?" she demanded. + +"Why, you met her, sure?" Then the man added with some significance: +"She's riding with Jeff Masters." + +"Oh, yes. I've met her. I met her last night, and I've seen her many +times before." Then she added with a shadow of coldness in her manner: +"But she doesn't belong to the cattle folk." + +The man's eyes were following the direction of Nan's. + +"No-o," he said seriously. "Guess I'm not wise. They say her husband +was a rancher--before he acted foolish an' died." + +Nan's laugh came readily. + +"That's bright. I don't guess he started running cattle--after." + +Dugdale chuckled explosively. + +"Who's to say?" he cried. Then he went on with enthusiasm: "Say, +wouldn't it be bully to think of? Just get a thought of it. Flapping +around with elegant store wings, rounding up golden steers trimmed with +fancy halos, and with jeweled eyes. Branding calves of silver with +flaming irons and turning 'em out to feed on a pasture of purple grass +with emeralds and sapphires for blossoms all growing around. And +then----" + +"Think again. Say, your taste's just--cheap. But we're talking of +Mrs. Van Blooren." + +"I'm sorry. Why, I guess she's daughter to the Carruthers's. John D. +Carruthers. He was principal at St. Bude's College. Pensioned. Guess +it's five years since she handed us boys the G. B. and hooked up with a +white-gilled hoodlum from down East. He got around here with a wad +he'd raised from his father. Can't say who his father was. Folks +guessed he was some millionaire. I don't just know the rights of it. +Anyway, he left her well enough fixed. Gee! Fancy a feller acting +that way--dying, with a wife like that. Wonder what sort of mush he +kept in his thinking depot? I'd say folks with sense have to live on +the chances fools can't just kick to death. Anyway, seeing she's +started right in to set her wings rustling again I guess some feller +with hoss sense'll be getting busy. They'd make a swell couple," he +added with a grin. "Jeff's a good-looker." + +Nan nodded. + +But she made no answer. Had the man been less concerned with his +match-making suggestions he must have observed the effect of his +careless words. Nan had paled under the pretty tanning of her rounded +cheeks. She was hurt, hurt beyond words, and though she could +willingly have cried out she was forced to smother her feelings. The +panic of the moment passed, however, and, with a great effort, she was +able to give her suggestion its proper value. But somehow, for the +rest of the ride, it seemed to her that the sun was less bright, the +wind even had become chilly, and altogether there was a curious, +enervating world-weariness hanging over everything. + +By the time they reached the race-track she felt in her simple heart +she ought to apologize for having spoiled her escort's ride. But the +inclination was only the result of her depression. She even told +herself, with a gleam of humor, that if she attempted it she would have +to burst into tears. + +However, the later excitement of the racing helped to revive Nan's +drooping spirits. The scene was irresistible. The atmosphere. The +happy buoyant enjoyment on every side could not long be denied whatever +the troubles awaiting more sober moments. There were the sleek and +glossy horses. There were the brilliant colors of the jockey's silks. +There was the babel of excited voices, the shouting as the horses +rushed down the picturesque "straight." Then the betting. The +lunching. The sun. The blessed sun and gracious woodland slopes +shutting in this happy playground of men and women become children +again at the touch of pleasure's magic wand. No, for all her anxiety, +Nan had no power to withstand the charm and delirium of it all. And, +for a while, she flung herself into it with an abandon which matched +the most reckless. + +Twice she found herself in financial difficulties through reckless +betting, and twice the open-handed Bud had to come to her assistance. +Each time his comment was characteristic, and Nan laughed at him with +the irresponsibility of a child who tastes the delight of gambling for +the first time. + +"Say, little gal," Bud admonished her, the second time he unrolled his +"wad" of bills. "Makin' dollars on a race-track's jest about as easy +as makin' ice-cream. Ther's jest one way of doing it. Ast yourself +which hoss you're craziest to dope out your money on, an' when you're +plumb sure then get right along an' bet on the other feller. +Meanwhiles think in dollars an' play in cents." + +And Nan's answer reflected her feelings of the moment. + +"You can't play in cents, my Daddy, when it's time to play in dollars. +You never know when the time's coming along when even cents are denied +you." + +Then before the worshipping parent could add to his advice the girl +darted off with her hands full of outspread bills seeking the pool +rooms. + +She had seen the horses cantering over to the post for the half-mile +dash. It was a race for legitimate cow-ponies and she knew Jeff's +"Sassafras" was running in it. She meant to bet on Jeff's horse. It +mattered nothing to her what other horses were running. She knew +little enough of their claims. She had one thought in life. Anything +to do with Jeff Masters, anything of his was good enough for her to +gamble on--even with her life. This was the real, all unconscious Nan. +It was not in her to give half measure. She had no idea of what she +was doing. She had no subtlety or calculation of anything where her +love was concerned. She would back Jeff to the limit, and stand or +fall by it. It was the simple loyalty and devotion which only a woman +can yield. + +On her way to the pool room she encountered Jeff himself, and, in the +excitement of the moment, clasping her money in both hands, she thrust +them out toward him. + +"Say, Jeff," she cried, "I'm just crazy. The horses have gone right +out to the start now, and--and I'm gasping to put my dollars on +Sassafras." + +The man's quiet smile was good to see. And Nan warmed under its +influence. This was the Jeff she had known so long and loved so well. +There was no other woman near to have provoked that smile. It was +hers. She felt it was all hers, and her eyes shone up into the depths +of blue she so loved. + +"Why, Nan, I just hate to disappoint you," he said, in a gentle +fashion. "But you'll surely be crazy to back my plug with Tommy +Cleveden's 'Jack Rabbit' in the race. It's a cinch for him. It is so." + +Nan laughed a glad buoyant laugh. + +"Jack Rabbit?" she echoed scornfully. "Why, he points the toe. Guess +he'd outrun Sassafras if he kept his feet, but he'll never do it. +He'll peck. Then he'll change his stride. No, Jeff. Sassafras goes +with me." + +The smile in the man's eyes faded out. He hated the thought of Nan +losing her money on what he considered a foolish bet. His practical +mind could not see under her purpose. + +"Say, Nan, just don't you do it," he said persuasively. "We aren't. +We're backing Jack Rabbit for a big roll." + +"We?" + +"Mrs. Van Blooren and me." + +Jeff's manner was quite unconcerned. At that instant he had no thought +of anything but to dissuade Nan from throwing her money away uselessly. +And Nan. Her eyes never wavered for an instant in their regard. Their +warmth of expression remained. Yet it was a cruel blow. Perhaps the +cruelest that could have been inflicted at such a moment. Jeff had +inflicted it--Jeff of all men. + +She smiled up at him. Oh, how she smiled. Her eyes shone like two +superb brown diamonds as she forced her money upon him with even +greater determination. + +"Take it, Jeff. Take it," she cried urgently. "Say, if you never, +never do another thing for me--ever. Take it, and, why, I guess every +cent of it says Sassafras wins. Sassafras is your pony, Jeff, and I'd +back him if he'd only three legs and a fence post." Then just the +smallest gleam of the woman peeped through. "Maybe Mrs. Van Blooren's +a pretty bright woman. But I guess I'm wise to horses." + +Jeff hurried away. There was no time to waste. The horses had already +assembled at the start. Nan watched him go with eyes that had lost +their last gleam of sunshine. The mask she had set up before the man +had completely fallen. Jeff was--was betting for Mrs. Van Blooren! He +was betting with her! Maybe even they were pooling their bets! Oh! + +For some moments she stood alone where Jeff had left her. Everybody +had rushed to the fence of the enclosure, crowding to witness the race. +Nan seemed to have forgotten it. It was Bud's voice that finally +claimed her, and she tried to pull her scattered faculties together. + +She reached Bud's side amongst the crowd, and the old man's shrewd eyes +searched her troubled face. + +"What's amiss, Nan?" he demanded, in a tone almost brusque. + +And the girl responded with a wistful smile. + +"Why, Daddy, I've bet all your money on Jeff's Sassafras, and--and I +want him to win more than anything--anything in the world." + +Bud's reply was lost in the sudden shout that went up. It was the +start. Some one made way for Nan, and gently pushed her to a place +against the railings. The winning-post was directly in front of her. +The full breadth of the track was in her view. She gazed out with eyes +that were very near tears. She saw a vista of green and many figures +moving beyond the track. She heard the hoarse cries of men, whose +desires exceeded their veracity as they shouted the progress of the +race. But nothing of what she heard or beheld conveyed anything to +her. Her heart was aching once more, and her thoughts were heavily +oppressed, and all the joy of the day had suddenly been banished. + +Then of a sudden came that greatest of all tonics. That irresistible +sensation so powerfully stimulating that no trouble can resist it. The +racing horses leaped into her view, and the disjointed shouts welded +into one steady roar. Nan was caught in the tide of it all. The blood +seemed to rush to her head like full rich wine. She added her light +cries to the general tumult. + +"Sassafras! Sassafras!" she cried, with eyes blind to all but the +indistinct cluster of the straining horses. + +Then in her ears rang a cry: + +"A hundred dollars Jack Rabbit! A thousand! Jack Rabbit! Jack +Rabbit!" + +It was like a douche of cold water. The girl's heart sank. She felt, +she knew that Jack Rabbit had won. Then into her ears poured a babel +of voices. The roar had died out, and the crowd were waiting for the +numbers to go up. + +Nan had no further interest. She turned to seek her father. He was +there, not far behind her, and she pushed her way toward him. She +smiled bravely as she came up, but the pathos of it was lost on Bud. +He was craning, and his eyes were on the number board. He did not even +see her. + +"I'm--I'm sort of tired, Daddy," she began. + +But Bud held up his hand. There was a rattle at the number board. Nan +understood. She waited. Then it seemed as if the crowd had timed +itself for one unanimous shout. + +"Sassafras!" + +It came with a sort of electric thrill for the girl. In one wild +moment all her shadows seemed to clear. + +"Sassafras!" she cried. + +And her father's deep gray eyes beamed down upon her + +"You've sure guessed right, little gal," he said. "An' I--hope it was +dollar time." + +At that instant Jeff thrust his way through the crowd, and the warmth +of his smile flooded the girl's heart with happiness. + +"Say, Nan," he cried, holding out his hand with an enthusiasm that was +hardly to be expected in one who has lost, "you got us all beat a mile. +You surely have. Sassafras. My old Sassafras. Say, who'd 'a' thought +it?" Nan's hand remained clasped in his, and she seemed to have no +desire to withdraw it. Jeff looked round into Bud's face. "Do you +know what she's won? Do you, Nan?" he went on to the girl again. + +Nan laughed. It was all she wanted to do. + +"Not a notion, Jeff. I handed you all Daddy gave me. How much was it, +Daddy?" + +"Five hundred." + +Nan's eyes widened in alarm. + +"Five hundred? And I bet it all on--Sassafras!" + +"And you've won nearly five thousand," cried Jeff, stirred completely +out of himself at the girl's success. + +"I--I must have been--crazy," she declared, in an awed voice. + +Bud laughed, but his eyes were full of a sympathy that had no meaning +for the others. + +"Not crazy, little Nan. Jest good grit. Guess Jeff didn't see the +pool waitin' around for him to pick up. Wal, guess ther's a heap o' +folk like him. You played right out for a win, an' you won--by a head." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +ELVINE VAN BLOOREN + +It was the last day of the Cattle Week. A week which, for at least +three people, was fraught with something in the nature of epoch-making +events. All that the simple heart of Nan Tristram had looked forward +to, yearned for, had been denied her from the first moment she had +beheld that unmistakable lightening up of Jeff's eyes on his meeting +with Elvine van Blooren. It had been a revelation of dread. Her own +secret hopes had been set shaking to their very foundations. And from +that moment on, during the rest of the week, brick by brick the whole +edifice of them had been set tumbling. By the last day nothing but a +pile of debris remained. + +Holiday! It had been a good deal less than holiday. She had looked +forward to one all too brief succession of days of delight. Jeff, who +had been honored by his fellows in the world which was theirs. Jeff, +the leader in the great industry which absorbed them all. Jeff, the +man by his very temperament marked out for a worldly success only +bounded by the limitations of his personal ambitions. She had been so +proud of him. She had been so thankful to be allowed to share in his +triumphs. She had shared in them, too--up till that meeting with +Elvine van Blooren at the reception. After that--ah, well, there had +been very little after for Nan. + +And the man himself. Four days had sufficed to reduce Jeff's feelings +to a condition of love-sickness such as is best associated with extreme +youth. Furthermore its hold upon him was deeper, more lasting by +reason of the innate strength of his character. + +As for Elvine van Blooren it would be less easy to say. Her beauty was +of a darkly reticent order. Hers was the face, the eyes, the manner +yielding up few secrets. She rarely imparted confidence even to her +mother. And a woman who denies her mother rarely yields confidence to +any other human creature. + +Perhaps in her case, however, she had good reason. Mrs. John D. +Carruthers, who possessed a simple erudite professor for a husband, a +man who possessed no worldly ambitions of any sort, and who readily +accepted his pension from the trustees of St. Bude's College at the +earliest date, so that he might devote all his riper years to the +prosecution of his passion for classical research, was a painful +example of worldliness, and a woman who regarded position and wealth +before all things. There was little enough sympathy between mother and +daughter. Mrs. John D. Carruthers only saw in Elvine's unusual beauty +an asset in her schemes of advancement. While Elvine displayed a cold +disregard for the older woman's efforts, and went her own way. + +Elvine was strong, even as Jeffrey Masters was strong. But while the +man's strength lay in the single purpose of achievement, Elvine looked +for the ease and luxury which life could legitimately afford her. +Elvine and her mother possessed far too much in common ever to have +sympathy for one another. + +It was this very attitude which inspired an acrimonious half hour in +the somewhat pretentious parlor on Maple Avenue just before Jeff was to +pay his farewell call at the close of the Cattle Week. + +Elvine was occupied with a small note-book on the| pages of which there +were many figures. With a small gold pencil she was working out sums, +which, apparently, were solely for her own edification. She +communicated nothing to her mother, who covertly glanced over at her +from the fancy work she was engaged upon at the far side of the room. + +The room was such as might be found in any of the better middle-class +houses in a western city. Its furnishing was a trifle ornate. +Comfortable chairs predominated, and their woodwork shone with an +extreme lustre, or were equally aggressive in their modern fictitious +Mission House style. The carpet and rugs were broadly floral and +bright. There was altogether a modernity about the character of it +which decidedly belonged to the gray-haired showiness of the wife of +John Carruthers. For all that, there was nothing absolutely untasteful +about Elvine's surroundings. The daughter would never have permitted +such a thing. It was only modern, extremely modern. That type of +modern which belongs to those homes where money is a careful +consideration. + +At last Elvine closed her note-book and returned it to the rather large +pocketbook which was lying in her lap. Her fine eyes were half +smiling, and a faint tinge of color deepened her perfect cheeks. She +sighed. + +"We didn't do so badly at the races, Momma," she said, more for her own +satisfaction than her mother's information. "Guess I've got most all +of it in and--I'm satisfied." + +"Maybe you are, my dear," came the ungracious response. + +Her mother was bending over her work, nor did she trouble to raise her +eyes in her daughter's direction. + +"That sounds as if somebody else wasn't." + +Elvine raised a pair of beautifully rounded arms above her head and +rested the back of her neck upon her clasped hands. + +The gray head was lifted sharply. A pair of brilliant black eyes shot +a disapproving glance across the room. Then the mother continued her +work, shaking her head emphatically. + +"What's the use of a few dollars? He's going back to his ranch +to-morrow, and--nothing's happened." + +There was something crude, almost brutal in the manner of it. There +was something which on a woman's lips might well have revolted any man. +But it was an attitude to which the daughter was used. Besides, it +saved her any qualms she might otherwise have had in pursuing her own +way under the shelter of her mother's roof. + +"I really can't see what you've to complain of, Momma," Elvine laughed, +without any display of mirth. "I guess if you wanted to marry a man +you'd leave him about as much chance as he'd have with a wildcat." +Then her smile died out. "Anyway it doesn't seem to be a matter for +other folk to concern themselves with. I'm not a child." + +"No. But you're going to throw away the chance of a lifetime if you +don't act right now. Why, girl, Jeff Masters is the pick of the whole +bunch of cattlemen around this district. He's going to be one of the +cattle kings of the country, or I don't guess I know a thing. He's +right here to your hand, and as tame as a lap-dog. To-morrow he's off +again to the ranch, and that girl of his partner's will have him to +herself for a year. Why, you're crazy to let him go. Four years +you've lived here since--since----" + +"I wish you'd stop worrying, Momma--and," the girl added with +unconcealed resentment, "get on with your knitting." + +Elvine had risen to her feet. She moved swiftly over to the window +which gave on to a wide stoop, the roof of which was supported on +well-built rag stone columns. She was more angry than her words +admitted. Her fine eyes were sparkling, her delicately penciled brows +were slightly knitted. + +She made a handsome picture. Her wealth of dark hair was carefully +dressed, but with the usual consummate simplicity. Her figure was +superb, with all the ripeness of maturity, but without the smallest +inclination toward any gross development. She was statuesque, with all +the perfect cunning of Nature's art. She was a woman to find favor in +any eyes, man's or woman's, and to perform that dual feat was a test +which few women could hope to survive. + +The mother's reply came sharply and without yielding. + +"It's just four years since you came back to home. Five or more since +you first married. Anyway, you've sat around here for four years +having a good time without a thought of the future. You're spending +your money, which didn't amount to----" + +The girl flashed round. + +"I won't tolerate it. I just won't, Momma," she cried, with an energy +which brought the other's eyes swiftly to her face. "You've talked of +four years wasted, but you don't say a word of the other year, the +fifth. It's taken me all that time to--forget what your judgment might +have saved me from. Oh, yes. You know it just as well as I do. Don't +blind yourself. I was foolish then, I thought I was in love, and it +was the moment when the advice of a woman worth having might have +helped me. You urged me in my folly to marry then, the same as you're +urging me now. You saw everything you hoped for in that marriage, and +you let me plunge myself into a living hell without a single qualm. +The result. Oh, I've tried to forget. But I can't I haven't +forgotten. I never shall forget. But I've learned. I certainly have. +I've learned to think wholly for myself--of myself. I don't need +advice now. I don't need a thing. You'll never see things my way, and +I don't fancy to see them yours. I shall marry. And when I marry +again I promise you I'll marry right, and," she laughed bitterly, "I +guess I'll hand you the rake off which you're looking for. But," she +went on, with a swift, ruthless candor which stung even the worldly +heart of the older woman, "I'll make no experimental practice. I'll +marry the man I want to, first because I like him, and second, because +he's a right man, and can hand me the life I need. Maybe that's pretty +hard sounding, but I tell you, Momma, it's nothing to the hardness that +makes you talk the way you do. Anyway, I want you to get it fixed in +your mind right now I'm no priceless gem in a jewelry store that you're +going to sell at the price you figure. I'll dispose of myself when, +and to whom, I choose, and my motives will be my own. Now we'll quit +it, once for all. Jeffrey Masters is coming right along down the +sidewalk." + +The mother's black eyes snapped angrily. + +"Very well," she exclaimed sharply. "See to it you make good. Your +father's pension isn't even sufficient for two, and your own money is +limited. Meanwhile, don't forget the Tristram girl's just as pretty as +a picture." + +But Elvine's exasperation had passed. There was a slight softening in +her eyes as they surveyed the handsome, elaborately dressed gray head +and the careful toilet of her unlovely mother. She understood the +bitter carping of this disappointed woman. Her spirit soared far +beyond the lot of the wife of a pensioned school-teacher. She knew, +too, that somewhere, lost in some dim recess of a coldly calculating +nature, there was a tiny, glowing spot which burned wholly for her. + +There was an unusual softness in her tone when she replied. + +"But she needs framing, Momma," she said lightly. "And anyway, a girl +who lives more or less on the premises with a man for five years or so, +and hasn't married him--well, I guess she never will." + + * * * * * * + +The whole method of Jeff's life was rapidity of thought and swift +execution supported by a perfect genius for clear thinking. It was +these characteristics which had lifted him so rapidly in the world of +cattle he had made his own. It was these which had shown him the +possibilities of the now great Obar Ranch. + +It might have been claimed for him that he lacked many of the lovable +weaknesses of human nature. It might have been said that he was hard, +cold. Yet such was his passionate ambition beneath a cool, deliberate +exterior that it would have been foolish to believe that his outward +display was the real man. He was perhaps a powerfully controlled fire, +but the hot tide ran strong within him, and the right torch at the +right moment might easily stir the depths of him and bring their fiery +display to the surface. + +Bud knew him. Bud understood something of the deep human tide flowing +through his strong veins. Once he had seen that tide at the surface, +and it had left an impression not easily forgettable. Nan, too, was +not without understanding of him. But hers was the understanding of +her sex for an idol she had set up in her heart. Her knowledge of his +shortcomings and his best characteristics was perhaps the reflection of +her feelings for him, feelings which make it possible for a woman to +endow any object of her profound regard with the virtues she would have +it possess. To her there was nothing of the iron, relentless, +purposeful soul about him. He was just "Honest Jeff," as she loved to +call him. A creature full of kindly thought for others as well as +strong in his own personal attitude toward life. + +For himself Jeff knew nothing of the emotions lying dormant within him +until some chance happening stirred them from their slumbers and sent +them pulsating through his senses. He accepted the tide of life as he +found it, and only on his journey, swimming down its many currents, he +endeavored by skilful pilotship to avoid the shoals, and seek the +beneficent backwaters so that his muscles and courage might be +strengthened for the completion of the task he had still before him. + +Elvine van Blooren had held the right torch at their first meeting +during the Cattle Week. One look into her beautiful eyes had set his +soul aflame, as all the years of his life spent in association with Nan +Tristram had failed to do. Did she only know it, the first waltz with +him at the subsequent ball had completely made her mistress of his +destiny. + +Again with his rapid, clear-thinking mind he had not only promptly +admitted this truth to himself, but he reveled in the enchantment of +the thought it inspired. He desired it. He regretted only that +fortune had so long denied him the contemplation of such delights. He +felt he had never before lived. He had merely existed, something more +than a physical and mental machine, something less than a man. + +Something of all this stimulated his sensations during that ostensible +farewell call upon the woman who had inspired the change. And, as his +hungry eyes dwelt upon her great beauty, he became a prey to an impulse +that was irresistible. Why should this be a farewell? Why should +there ever be a farewell between them? There could be none. Then, to +his support came that steady determination which never failed him in +crises. There should be no farewell. + +He was clad in sober conventional garb. There was only the bronzing +upon his fair brow and firm cheeks to suggest the open air life that +was his. His slim, powerful figure was full of an ease which caught +and held, and pleased Elvine van Blooren's fancy, and awoke in her more +material mind something of the dreams which had driven her almost +unthinkingly into the arms of her first husband. His fine blue eyes +were alight with possibilities which came near to overbalancing the +calculations of her mature mind. But, even so, she felt that the +ground was so safe under her feet that, even with the background of the +past ever in her memory, she could safely indulge her warmth of fancy +to its full. + +They were alone in the little modern parlor. At another time Jeff must +have observed its atmosphere without enthusiasm, just now he welcomed +it. It represented the intimate background of a beautiful woman's +life. This was the shrine of the goddess whom he had set up for his +own worship. Again there was no half measure. + +They were talking in that intimate fashion which belongs to the period +when a man and a woman have made up their minds that there remains no +obstacle to the admission of mutual regard. + +"It's just wonderful to have done it all in so short a time," Elvine +said in her low even tones. + +Jeff had been talking of the Obar Ranch which was more precious to him +than a schoolboy's first big achievement in the playing fields. He had +been talking of it, not in the spirit of vain glory, but out of the +deep affection of a strong heart for the child of his own creation. + +"Oh, I guess it would have been wonderful with any other feller for a +partner than Bud Tristram," Jeff responded promptly. "As an +enterprise, why, I guess it's my thought. As a success, it's Bud's +genius for setting cattle prospering. Say, you can't handle a wide +proposition right by reckoning up figures and fixing deeds of sale and +partnership. I allow you need to do some thinking that way. But when +it's all figgered right, why, the real practical man needs to get busy +or the figgers aren't worth the ink an' paper you've used to make 'em. +Bud's the feller of the Obars. I just sit around and talk wise when he +needs talk, which I don't guess is frequent." + +Jeff's smile was genuine. There was no false modesty that made him +place the credit of the Obar's success at Bud's door. The credit was +Bud's. He knew it. And, with frank honesty, was only too ready to +admit it, and even advertise it. + +Elvine nodded. Her dark eyes were warmly returning his smile. + +"I like that," she said simply. And she meant it. + +The blood mounted to the man's brow. He felt that he had forced her to +make the admission, and regarded his act with some shame. + +"Say, don't feel you've got to say that," he said earnestly. "You +mustn't just think I'm asking your applause. These are simple facts +which I can't deny. I'd like to feel the sun just rises and sets +around my work, but if I did I'd be the same sort of fool as those +Pharisee fellers in the Bible. Bud's a bully feller, and I'll owe him +more than I can ever hand him back just as long as I live." + +Elvine was comparing this man's big generosity with her understanding +of most of the men she had ever known. She was thinking, too, of days +long since passed, and events which even a wide distance of time had +not succeeded in rendering mellow. + +She sighed. Somehow "Honest Jeff" was hurting her in a way she would +never have believed any man could hurt her--now. + +"This Bud Tristram's daughter--Nan. She's a pretty creature," Elvine +went on, feeling their topic needed changing. + +Jeff's smile deepened. + +"She's pretty--right through to her soul," came his prompt and earnest +response. + +Elvine's eyes observed him closely. She laughed in a challenging +fashion. + +"And she is still her father's daughter?" + +Jeff flushed. Her meaning could not be mistaken. His impulse was to +speak out of the depth of a strong abiding regard for his friend's +"little gal." But he rejected the impulse. Time and his own desires +were pressing. + +"Oh, I guess she'll marry some fellow some day. Maybe he'll be good +enough----" + +"And more than likely he won't." Elvine's reply was emphatic. She +suddenly sat forward in the deep rocker, and a great earnestness shone +in her eyes. "I tell you no woman in this life has a right to be as +'pretty' as you believe her to be," she said with intense bitterness. +"If I had my way every girl would be taught to reason for herself on +those things in life which make for her well-being. I'd make her think +that way before everything else. To me it is the direst cruelty of +Providence that we should be left to become the prey of our own +emotions, and at the mercy of any man of whatever quality who can +sufficiently stir them. Maybe you do not agree to that. But just +think of the awful position that every wretched, physically feeble +woman stands in in the life about her. I tell you no girl on her own +resources has much better than a dog's chance of getting through life +without disaster. Our emotions are the most absurdly foolish type it +is possible to think of. I guess we can do things with our normal +reason which would shame a whole asylum of crazy folk who can't be let +run around free. Oh, I'd like to know her better, to tell her, to warn +her. I don't guess I've ever done good in the world, but I'd like to. +If I could save one of my sex from some of the pitfalls lying around, +maybe I'd feel I'd been some use." + +"Why not know her better? Say, Nan's no end of a good sort. She'd be +real glad." + +Jeff's invitation sounded lame, even to himself. But he was struggling +under an emotion that made words difficult. + +Elvine laughed. + +"Would she? I wonder." + +Then she hurried on lest her observation should be interpreted. + +"And you're going to quit our city to-morrow for your wonderful ranch. +I guess the Cattle Week's liable to bore folks who've real work in the +world--like you. It's just a week of show, and glitter, and ceremony, +all those things which have no real place in the world of things that +matter. But there, after all, I wonder what are the things that +matter. And do they matter anyway? We have no guide. We're just left +to grope around and search for ourselves, and every folk's ideas are +different from every other folk's. I'm restless. I sort of feel +there's so much to be done in the world--if we only knew how, and what." + +The half-bantering manner of the woman did not disguise her +earnestness. Jeff shook his head. + +"Guess I can't say. Guess none of us can--rightly. But why not come +around to the ranch and see things? See if you can worry out an +answer. See if you think the work we're doing matters. It certainly +does matter to me, to us. But in the world. I don't know. Just now I +sort of feel it don't. Just now I'm wondering whether I'll go back +there to-morrow. What do you say?" + +"I? How can I say?" + +Jeff laughed. + +"I don't guess there's a thing easier." His eyes were shining as he +took in the girl's dark beauty. "Seems to me I'm beginning to wonder +about the things that matter myself. It's been a bully week. The sort +of week some folks would write about in their secret diary. Guess I +don't keep a secret diary--except somewhere right in here." He tapped +his breast. "I don't seem to feel I've ever had such a time, or ever +will again, unless----" + +"Unless?" Elvine was caught in the mood of the moment. This man was +exercising a fascination over her which had nothing to do with the +calculations she had laid down for the guidance of her sex. + +"Why, unless I add another week to it." + +"D'you think you could duplicate it then?" + +"That just depends on--you." + +Elvine rose from her chair and moved toward the window. Jeff, too, +left his chair. He stood tall and straight--waiting. + +Her back was turned to him. + +"It is not for me to say," she replied without turning. + +"Why not?" + +"Your work--in the world." + +"Can wait. There's always--Bud Tristram." + +Suddenly Elvine turned about. Her eyes were smiling, and full of a +light which had not lived in them for several years. There was not a +shadow of calculation in them now. + +She held out her hand in token of dismissal. + +"We had some fine rides--together," she said. + +"My horses are still here." + +"And--the dances. They were--very pleasant." + +"Maybe they can be danced--again." + +"Good-bye," she said, her beautiful hand lingering in his for a moment. + +"For the present," Jeff added with decision. + +Then he mechanically glanced at his timepiece. His "farewell" call had +lasted over two hours. But even so it had been all too short for him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE TEMPERING + +Bud was packing in his rooms at Aston's Hotel. It was late at night. +Late as it was, however, he had only left Nan, engaged at a similar +occupation, less than half an hour ago. He had sat talking to her, and +watching her with eyes of deep concern while, with infinite care, she +bestowed those beautiful gowns which mean so much in a woman's life. + +His visit to her had not been one of mere companionship. It had been +inspired by a sympathy he had no other means of displaying. He had +talked to her; by every means in his power he had endeavored to +interest her in reminiscence of the week's doings. She listened +patiently, almost submissively, for she understood the promptings of +his endeavor. But she was too deeply plunged in her own discouragement +to display real interest, and it had required every ounce of courage +she possessed to prevent herself falling to weeping. + +Nor was Bud at fault for a moment. He recognized the trouble lurking +in the sweet brown eyes. And with all his might he pretended not to +see. So, when his last effort to cheer had proved unavailing, he took +his departure under the excuse of his own packing. + +He knew. Of course he knew. Had he not watched the progress of events +throughout the week? Had he not seen for himself how Jeff's fancy had +been caught? And she was very beautiful, this town-bred woman, +beautiful with that healthy, downy complexion which Bud found did not +fit with his idea of city "raised" women. He almost felt he hated her, +yet he knew he had no right to his antagonism. Jeff was unpledged, he +was free. No woman had any claim on him. Not even Nan. Poor Nan. He +had hoped to give her seven long days of unalloyed delight. He had +only given her seven days of bitter disappointment and disillusion. + +He set about his packing with furious zest. In a moment, it seemed, +his room was in a state of chaos. And all the while, as he bundled +garments together and flung them into his grips, his busy thought went +on in the only direction in which it seemed capable of moving just now. + +His mind had gone back to the days before their visit to Calthorpe. He +remembered the delighted anticipation which Nan had displayed. Her +displays of happy affection for himself in the midst of her own great +looking forward. The ravishing hours she had spent in choosing +patterns of material, and styles of gown. He remembered the bright +sparkling eyes shining, it seemed to him, at all times. That wonderful +looking forward. Oh, the holiday of it had been nothing. There was +only one thing, one thought, which had inspired the child. It was +Jeff. It was a week that was to see honor done him, and she--she was +to join in honoring him. Jeff was the whole hub about which her +happiness revolved. + +He was pained. He was angry. And the vision of Elvine van Blooren's +dark beauty haunted him. He admitted it--her beauty. And for all his +disquiet, his bitter feeling, he found it impossible to blame the man. + +Yes, for all his exasperation. For all he regarded Jeff as a "fool +man," he was just enough to remember that Nan was his own little +daughter, a pretty prairie girl, with nothing of the showy attraction +of this city woman. Then Jeff's attitude toward her. It had never +been more than the sheerest friendliness. He reflected bitterly, even, +that they might have been simply brother and sister. While the dream +of his life was some day to be able to pour out the wealth he was +storing up into the out-stretched palms of their children. + +Well, it was a dream. And now it had come tumbling about his feet, and +it almost looked to him as if poor little Nan's heart was to be buried +beneath the debris. + +He flung his evening suit, which Nan had so much admired, into the +gaping jaws of a large leather grip, with a disregard that more than +illustrated his feelings. Then he strove to close the grip tucking in +the projecting oddments of silk-lined cloth without the least +consideration for their well-being. He felt he never wanted to wear +such things again, never wanted even to see them. He and Nan belonged +to the prairie, not to a city. That was good enough for them. What +was the use----? + +But his reflections were interrupted by the abrupt appearance of Jeff +himself. Bud looked up as the door was unceremoniously thrust open, +and his regard was quite unshaken by the depths of his feelings. It +displayed a mute question, however. + +Jeff began at once. + +"I saw the light through your transom, Bud, so I just came right in." + +Jeff was a shade paler than usual. There was a look of some doubt in +his blue eyes. And his manner hinted at a decision taken. A decision +that had not been arrived at without some considerable exercise of mind. + +Slowly, as he regarded him, all Bud's bitterness subsided. If Nan were +his daughter, this man was almost a son to him. + +"Say, old friend, I'm--I'm not going back home with you to-morrow," +Jeff went on. He stirred with a suggestion of nervousness, and then +flung himself upon the old man's littered-up bed. "I just can't, an' +that's a fact. I want to stop around here for a while. I got to." + +He paused as though awaiting an answer, but none was forthcoming. Only +was there that steady regard from the man beyond the still open grip. + +Bud was not thinking of the announcement. Jeff was certainly a +"good-looker," and he was beginning to understand something of the +attraction he must have for a woman like Elvine van Blooren. He was +slim and muscular, with a keen face of decision and strength. Then, +was he not on the rising wave which must ever appeal to the maturer +mind of a widow, however young? His disappointment rose again and +threatened to find expression. But he thrust it aside and struggled to +remember only his regard for the man. + +"D'you mind?" Jeff's question came nervously. + +Did he mind? It was a weak question. Coming from Jeff it sounded +foolish. Bud smiled, and his quiet sense of humor saved him from +himself. + +"Why, if you feel that way I don't guess you need worry a thing, Jeff." +Then he added: "Guess Nan an' me'll get right along home. But it don't +need to cut no ice. I take it you're askin' me to fix things right at +the Obars till you get around. That so?" + +Jeff nodded. He was feeling that he was doing something mean, even +brutal. He knew that what he contemplated must result in the bitterest +disappointment to his old friend. He had well enough known throughout +their partnership Bud's yearning desire that he should marry Nan. +Well, such a course was unthinkable now. Somehow it had never seemed +really possible. He was troubled, grievously troubled, but he was +determined now to act in the only honest way. He was determined that +Bud should know the truth--at all costs. + +"I'd be thankful to you, Bud." + +"You don't need to say a word. It's fixed." + +For some moments no other word was spoken. There was awkwardness. But +it was with Jeff alone. He feared the result of what he must tell. + +"You're--packing?" he said presently. + +Bud sat himself heavily into a rocker. + +"Yep. Lestways I don't guess Nan 'ud call it that way." He raked his +curly iron-gray hair with his strong fingers, and gazed ruefully at the +chaos. + +"Maybe I can help some." + +Bud shook his head, and his smile was good. + +"Guess one darn fool's enough playin' this game. When're you coming +along to--home?" + +"Maybe a week." + +The reply was prompt. + +"An'--you'll bring her along with you?" + +The eyes of the two men met. Each was reading the other like an open +book. + +Jeff shook his head. Somehow there was nothing absurd to him in Bud's +suggestion. There was nothing startling even in the probing of his +secret with so much directness. + +"I haven't asked her--yet." + +Then it was that the big heart of the friend, who was almost a father, +made itself apparent. + +"But you're goin' to, Jeff. An' she's goin' to take you. Say, Jeff, +she's one lucky woman." + +In a moment the tide of the younger man's feelings was set flowing. In +a moment the egoism of the lover made a generous nature forget all else +but the passion that absorbed him. In a moment the thought that this +man was Nan's father, and that the dearest wish of his life was that +he, Jeff, should marry his daughter, was forgotten. + +"Lucky? But you got it wrong, Bud," Jeff cried, sitting erect, his +face flushed with the passionate stirring of Ills strong heart. "It's +I who'll be lucky, if she don't turn me down. Man, I'm not worth the +dust on her shoes. I'm not fit to lackey for her. Nor--nor is any +other feller. Say, Bud," he went on, leaning impressively forward, his +eyes shining with his passion, "I'm just crazy to death for her. +And--and I can't just help it. I'd go through hell's flames for her, +man, I'd----" + +"Say, boy, don't worry that-a-way. Jest marry her instead," Bud broke +in with his gentlest smile. "You're all sorts of a boy, Jeff, and I +don't figger you got call to talk about the dust of any woman's shoes. +But I guess ther's times when it's good fer a man to feel he ain't as +big as he's told. Anyways, you get right ahead, and leave me to the +Obars. I ain't goin' to fail you now, any more than any other time." +Then he rumpled his stubbly hair again, and it was an action that +suggested heavy thought. "Say," he went on, a moment later, his eyes +looking squarely into the face of the other, "we're hittin' the trail +good an' early to-morrow. Guess you best let me say 'good-bye' to Nan +for you. That so?" + +Jeff nodded. He understood. And somehow the bigness of this man made +him almost despise himself. + +"Then I guess I'll get right on with my--packin'." + + * * * * * * + +They were standing on the stoop of Aston's Hotel. In front of them the +broad Avenue opened out with its central walk, between an aisle of +wide-spreading maple trees bathed in the early morning sun. A spring +wagon was already moving away, piled up with baggage. The saddle +horses were ready, held by one of the hotel servants. Nan, in her +riding costume, was waiting while her father exchanged a few parting +words with the hotel manager. + +"Guess you're right. It's been a darn good week this year. The best +in my memory. I'd say the Conference was a heap better attended, an' +the weather's been just great. We got through a deal o' legislation, +too. Guess things are goin' to hum, with the Obars at the head of 'em +this year. Our big play is to be dealin' with rustlers. We got a hell +of a piece o' leeway to make up. Four years ago we guessed we'd got +'em fixed where we wanted 'em. But they hatched out since like a brood +o' wolf cubs. So long." + +"Mr. Masters is stopping on for a while," the manager observed, with +that intimate touch which he always practiced with his more influential +customers of the cattle world. + +"Why, yes." Bud's eyes were watching Nan as she mounted her pony, +carefully held by a solicitous barn-hand. Under other circumstances +the man's attention would have afforded him amusement. Just now he was +regretting the manager's remark. "Y'see, ther's a deal to fix. Seein' +he's president this year, why, I guess it's up to him to kep his ladle +busy in the soup." + +He moved off the stoop and took his horse from the waiting man. He +swung himself into the saddle with an agility which belied his years. + +He waved one great hand in response to the manager's deferential bow, +and turned his horse away. In a moment Bud and Nan were riding side by +side down the wide Avenue. + +It was a long time before either attempted to break the silence between +them. They had even reached the outskirts of the city before Nan +broached the subject from which her father admittedly shrank. + +"I'm glad Jeff didn't get up to see us off," she said imply. Then she +laughed softly. "Y'see, Daddy, there's times for most things; and +'good-byes' in the early morning are a bit like cold baths in winter." + +Bud eyed his daughter with a quick sidelong glance, and then continued +his survey of the trail ahead as it lifted over a gentle grassy slope. +They were passing the last houses of the town, and ahead lay the tawny +fields which made the country one of the greatest pastures in the world. + +"Ther'd been no sort o' sense his turning out around sun-up to see us +folks off. It ain't goin' to be weeks before he gets back home." + +"No." + +Nan's smile remained, and Bud, for all his avoidance of it, was aware +that was so. It was a smile that cut him to the heart, and yet he was +simple man enough to find relief in it. + +"There'll be a deal for him to fix before he gets back home," Nan went +on. + +She spoke in the earnest fashion of deep consideration. Bud glanced +round at her again, steadying his powerful horse to permit her pony to +push its nose ahead. Her manner had startled him. But he refrained +from the folly of replying. He had that in his mind to impart the +thought of which nearly broke his heart. But it must be told, and by +him. And a passionate desire to lighten the blow made him watch +desperately for the best opportunity. + +But he was dealing with a nature stronger, deeper, more honest and +clear-sighted than he knew. He was dealing with a woman who could +sacrifice all to the well-being and happiness of those she loved. With +Nan self held a particularly subservient place to every other emotion. +And when it did manage to obtrude itself it was her way to fight her +battle alone, at a time when no prying eyes were there to witness her +sufferings. To the daylight she presented a pair of sweet brown +smiling eyes, and lips as full, and ripe, and firm as though no shadow +of doubt and unhappiness had ever crossed her path. + +She went on rapidly, speaking as though the matter under consideration +were fully accepted between them. + +"It's queer how things fix themselves the way you don't guess," she +said reflectively. "Just one week, and they're changed around in a way +that makes you wonder if you aren't dreaming. It's sort of like the +Indian summer, isn't it? There's the beautiful light of the full sun +on colors that set you 'most crazy with delight. Pictures that make +you feel Providence is just the biggest painter ever set brush to +canvas. Then, with a shiver of wind from the north, down the leaves +tumble, and right on top of 'em comes the snow, and then you're moving +around in a sort of crystal fairy web, and wonder when you'll wake up. +A week ago Jeff didn't even know her; she wasn't in the world so far as +he knew. Now he's going to marry her." + +Nan stated the fact without a tremor of voice, without a shadow of +hesitation. The sunny smile was entirely without a cloud. Her father +stared down at her from his superior height with eyes wide with +astonishment and something of alarm. + +"Say, did Jeff tell you?" he asked sharply. + +Nan shook her head. + +"Then how in hell d'you know it all? Say----" + +"How d'you know anything that affects you here, Daddy?" the girl +retorted, gently indicating her soft rounded bosom with one gauntleted +hand. + +Then her smile broke out again, and the man's trouble was further +increased. + +"Y'see, I don't mind saying things to you. You're my Daddy and Momma +all rolled into one. And there's sure a heap of you for two," she +smiled up at him. "Maybe you don't always say all the things you feel, +but it don't keep me guessing long. You'd a heap of terr'ble, terr'ble +things on your mind to say to me on this ride. Oh, and they weighed +heavy. Your poor worried face had lost all its smile, and your eyes +just looked as if you'd been lying awake nights an' nights, an' you'd +seen every sort of nightmare ever thought of in the world of dreams. +It made me kind of sorry, and I just couldn't wait for you to make that +big talk you figgered on." + +Bud was gazing far out ahead at the brilliant sky-line where the crests +of grass-land cut the line in perfect undulations. Nan's gently drawn +sigh was like the stab of a knife in his heart. His feelings at that +moment were too deep for words. And so the girl went on in a voice +that struck fresh chords of sympathy in the soul of the man who +idolized her. + +"It seems to me, my Daddy, that we often think things that a great big +Someone don't guess are good for us to think. We sort of set up hopes +we've no right to. An' when we do, why, we've got to be handed our +lessons. Sometimes the lesson is pretty tough, sometimes I don't guess +it's a deal worse than a pin-prick. Anyway, lessons aren't joyous +things at best, not even pin-pricks. Well, if folks are right they'll +just learn their lessons all they can without kicking, and if they get +a hunch on, why, I don't figger it's likely to make 'em harder. I've +been learning my lesson a whole week now, and, yes, I've got it right. +Oh, I've had to work. It hasn't been easy. And somehow, my Daddy, all +these lovely, lovely gowns, and the thought of the generous hands that +gave them to me, have helped me to learn quicker, and--better." + +She paused again. Their horses were ambling leisurely along over the +sandy trail. They moved together, side by side, in a closeness of +companionship which perhaps symbolized that of their riders. + +"I jest don't know what to say, Nan. I surely don't," Bud lumbered at +last with a half-bewildered drawing together of his heavy brows. "It +don't seem I ken even think right--about it." + +Nan gazed up into his big troubled face with the frank eyes that looked +wholly untroubled. + +"Don't try, my Daddy. Guess I've done all that's necessary that way. +Maybe I know just how you're feeling, because I know how I'm feeling. +God's been good to me all my years. He's given me a Daddy who's the +best in the world. A Daddy who's taught me by his own example how to +be strong and fight the little battles I guess it's meant for us to +fight. Oh, I won't say it hasn't hurt," she went on, with a catch in +her voice. "You see, I loved Jeff. I love him now, and I'll go right +on loving him to the end. And it's because I love him I want to help +him now--and always. You won't think me a fool girl, my Daddy, will +you, but--but--I won't hate Elvine van Blooren. I'm--I'm going to try +so hard to like her, and--and anyway, with all my might, I'm going to +help them both. D'you guess Jeff would let me get his house ready +for--his wife?" + +The father's reply came with a violence which he calculated should +conceal an emotion which his manhood forbade, but which only helped to +reveal it the more surely to the clear eyes of the girl at his side. + +"Hell take the bunch--the whole of 'em!" he cried fiercely. Then he +added weakly: "You're nigh breakin' my heart all to pieces." + +But Nan's smile suddenly became radiant, as she turned her brown eyes +away from the spectacle of her father's trouble to the distant horizon +ahead. + +She shook her head. + +"No, my Daddy. I allow it feels that way just now. I've felt that +way, too. But it's just God's tempering. And when it's through, why I +guess our hearts'll be made of good metal, strong and steady to do the +work He'd have us do. And that's just all we can ask, isn't it?" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE NEWS + +Nan rode up to the veranda of the ranch house and sprang lightly from +the saddle. Her pony's flanks were caked with sweat. The days now, as +they approached July, were blistering, and the work of the great ranch +was heavy for everybody. Nan had constituted herself Jeff's substitute +during his absence, and performed his share of the labor with a skill +and efficiency which astonished even her father. + +She was a little weary just now. The heat was trying. Four weeks of +continuous effort, four weeks of day-long saddle work, superintending +the distant out-stations, the pasture fencing, the re-branding, which +never seemed to come to an end, the hundred and one little duties which +always cropped up unexpectedly; these things, in conjunction with the +intense heat and the constant trouble which she held safely screened +behind her smiling eyes, were not without effect upon her, although +display was only permitted when no other eyes were present to witness +her weakness. + +It was the ranch house dinner time. Bud was due, as was the return of +the men who belonged to the home station. + +Nan released the cinchas of her saddle and removed her pony's bridle. +Then, with a sharp pat upon the creature's quarters, she sent it +strolling off toward the open pasture, in which the windmill pump kept +the string of watering tubs ready for the thirsty world about it. + +She watched the animal as it flung itself down for a roll. Its +ungainly, thrusting legs held her interest. Then, as it scrambled to +its feet and shook itself, and headed for the water, she seated herself +in a low wicker chair and wiped the dust from her long riding boots +with the silk handkerchief she wore loosely tied about her neck. A few +moments later her brown eyes were gazing fixedly out at the shimmer of +heat which hovered low over the distant horizon. + +She was meditating deeply, her tired body yielding to the greater +activity of her thought. The scene was lost to her. Her gaze sped +beyond the maze of corrals, and the more distant patchwork of fenced +pastures to the western boundary of her beloved Rainbow Hill Valley. +There was nothing but grass, endless grass, until the purple line of +the wood-clad mountains was reached. And here it was that her regard +found a resting place. But even so she was unaware of it, for her +thoughts were miles away in another direction. + +Her courage had reaped its natural harvest. Her labors had yielded her +a peace of mind which at one time had seemed impossible. She could +reflect calmly now, if not without a world of regret and sadness. Just +now, in the brief interval of waiting for her father for their midday +meal, her relaxed body permitted her thoughts to wander toward the city +where Jeff was still held captive by toils she herself had been unable +to weave about him. + +She had had her desire. She had pressed her less willing father into +her service, and through him she had obtained the right to see that +Jeff's house was made ready. It had been a labor of love in its +highest sense, for not one single detail of her efforts but had been a +fresh laceration of her loyal soul. In her mind it was never possible +to shut out the memory that everything that was for Jeff was also for a +woman who had plucked the only fruit she had ever coveted with her +whole heart. There had been moments of reward, however, a reward which +perhaps a lesser spirit might never have known. It was the passionate +satisfaction that her hands, her love, were able to minister to the +well-being of the man she loved, for all that another woman occupied +her place in his heart. + +Feelings such as these filled her heart now. They had so filled it +that morning during her hour of superintending the work of the builders +engaged upon the reconstruction of Jeff's house. This was nearly +completed, and somehow she felt when all the preparations were finished +the last support must be banished forever. Then there would be nothing +left her but to watch, perhaps from afar, the happiness of the other +woman basking in the love for which she would willingly have given her +life. + +There were moments when her spirit furiously rebelled, when she felt +that the sacrifice was too great, when the limits of human endurance +forbade submission to her lot. They were moments when mad jealousy +rose up and threatened her bulwark of spiritual resistance. And at +such time her battle was furious and hard, and she emerged therefrom +scarred and suffering, but with a spirit unbroken and even strengthened. + +Then her pride, a small gentle thing, added its quota to her support. +No one should pity her, no one should ever, ever know anything of the +sufferings she endured. No, not even her beloved father. So her +smile, even her ready laughter, was enlisted in her support, and the +manner of her discussion of the work on Jeff's house was an education +in courageous acting. + +But her father remained wholly undeceived. He saw with a vision +rendered doubly acute by perfect sympathy. He read through every smile +to the tears lying behind it. He noted the change in the tone of the +laugh. He missed nothing of the painful abstraction at odd moments +when Nan believed she was wholly unobserved. Nor did he misinterpret +the language these things expressed. But for all his heart bled for +the girl--and in his moments of solitude he bitterly cursed the woman +who had robbed him of a son, and heaped every scathing epithet of his +rough vocabulary upon the head of the man himself--he gave no sign that +the fair world about them concealed shadowed corners, or that the life +which was theirs was not one triumph of eternal delight. Thus was Nan +helped, all unconscious of the help so given. So she was able to play +the part her courage and gentleness of spirit had assigned to her. + +Presently a horseman came within sight, out of the northwest. It was +the direction of Jeff's ranch house. A moment of deliberate scrutiny +revealed the man's identity. It was Lal Hobhouse, second foreman of +the Obar, the man who, before the amalgamation, was Jeff's foreman. + +Nan wondered what was bringing him in at this hour. Usually his visits +to their headquarters were made in the evening when the work of the day +was completed. + +The man rode up and found Nan interestedly waiting to receive him. +There was a touch of anxiety in her tone as she greeted him. + +"No trouble, Lal?" she demanded, as the man reined up his pony. The +direct manner of the girl was largely the result of her new +responsibilities. + +Lal Hobhouse was a lean-faced specimen of sun-dried manhood. His +appearance suggested all wires and indifference to the nicenesses of +life. His long moustache drooped mournfully below his square chin. +And his fierce black eyes were full of a violent heat, rendered more +savage for its bottling up during his long ride. + +"Trouble?" Then he exploded with a furious oath, and his volcanic +temper drowned the sunburn of his cheek under a living heat. "Them +rustlers. Them lousy bums," he cried almost choking. "That bunch o' +yearlings--Shorthorn yearlings, Miss. Thirty of 'em--picked right out +of the bush corrals where we'd got 'em for re-brandin'. Say, Bud--your +father, Miss," he corrected himself. "He ain't around?" + +But Nan's interest was in the work of the rustlers. Not in his final +inquiry. Her pretty eyes were wide and hard with the anger his news +had inspired. + +"The Shorthorn yearlings, Lal?" she demanded. "Our prize stock?" + +"Sure, Miss. Them. That's them. God blister their filthy carkises! +May they stew in hell!" + +He spat over his horse's shoulder as though to emphasize his furious +disgust But his forcefulness was displeasing. + +"Guess you best off-saddle," Nan said coolly. "Father'll be along +right now. You'll need food. Say, what boys you got out there?" she +inquired as the man slipped out of the saddle and began to unfasten the +cinchas. + +"Why, just the same four damn fools, an'--Sikkem." + +"And they're following up the trail?" + +"Sure." The man flung off the saddle and his horse mouched away. + +"Psha!" he cried, turning his fierce eyes upon Nan. "What's the use +anyway?" His gesture was one of helpless disgust. "They're out. Bin +out since daylight. An' I guess they've as much chance roundin' that +crowd up as they would huntin' bugs in a hundred acre pasture. +Sikkem's about the brightest. But he ain't no sort o' good after a +bunch of rustlers. I wouldn't trust him with a dead mule o' mine +anyway. The boss hangs to him as if he was the on'y blamed cowpuncher +east o' the mountains because he's handy. I don't like him, Miss, +an'---- Say, how did them rustlers know 'bout them calves? Ther's two +hundred head o' beeves out there, an' they passed 'em right over fer +the Shorthorns." + +The man's argument and distrust of the man Sikkem made a deep +impression on Nan. She had listened to some of the latter before. But +Jeff's predilection for the dark-faced half Greaser had left her +sceptical of Lal's opinion. Now, however, she was seriously impressed. + +At that moment Bud himself rode up at a gallop, and behind him rode +four of the home station boys. The pace at which he came was unusual, +and Nan's troubled eyes promptly sought his face. + +Instantly her greeting died upon her lips, which tightened ominously. +His usually steady gray eyes were hot and fierce, and his face was set. +The comfortable lines about his mouth were drawn hard and deep. She +needed no word to tell her that further trouble was abroad. + +He scarcely waited for his horse to come to a halt. He was out of the +saddle in a moment, and his great figure towered before the foreman, +whom he took in with an angry stare. + +"What's brought you in?" he demanded, with a dangerous calm. Then the +calm broke before his storm of feeling. "Don't tell me ther's trouble +around your layout, too," he cried, without waiting for reply. Then he +turned on Nan, who was still on the veranda. "Say, Nan, they done it. +The rotten swines have done it. They shot 'Jock' up!" + +"The Highland bull?" Nan gasped. + +"Yes. That's it." Bud laughed furiously. "That bull I imported last +fall for three thousand dollars," he went on, turning back to the +foreman. "They shot him up and drove off his twenty-five cows from the +Coyote Bluff pastures. Dirty spite an' meanness. The white-livered +scum!" Then with a fierce oath the usually even-tempered Bud hurled +his wrath upon the waiting man. "Gorl darn it, you're standin' around +like a barbed wire fence post. What in hell's brought you around now? +What they done your way?" + +His manner roused the foreman to a soreness he wasn't slow in showing. + +"Jest thirty Shorthorn yearlings," he said without any attempt to +soften the blow. "Jest thirty--prize stock." + +The announcement had an unlooked-for effect. Where Nan expected +another furious display Bud remained silent. His eyes were wide as +they stared into the foreman's. But no word came. Then, after a few +moments, he began to laugh and Nan understood. She felt it was either +that, or--her father would break something. + +"Well, I go plumb to hell!" he cried at last. And Nan felt relieved at +the sound of his voice. + +The next moment Lal Hobhouse was pouring out his story with a redundant +selection from his choicest vocabulary of abusive epithet, which was +impartially divided between the rustlers and the cowhands under his +charge. Nan waited patiently, her eyes studying her father's face. +But whatever his feelings he permitted them no further display, and, at +the conclusion of the story, instead of offering comment, or reverting +to his own discoveries, he turned to his daughter with a smile. + +"Food on, Nan?" he inquired, in his easy way. "Guess I'm needin' +food--pretty bad. Maybe we'll feel better after." + +Then he turned to the men who stood around. + +"Git on down to the bunkhouse an' feed, boys. One o' you grab my plug. +After, we'll get around out with Lal here. I----" + +He broke off as Nan darted away down the veranda. The mail man had +just clattered up to the front of the house, and she had gone to meet +him. + +Bud passed his horse on to one of the men, and, with heavy strides, +clanking with the rattle of his heavy Mexican spurs, his leather chapps +creaking as he moved, he mounted the veranda and made his way into the +house. + + * * * * * * + +Nan entered the parlor with her hands full of mail. The meal was laid +ready, and a colored girl was setting the chairs in their places. + +"I'll jest get a clean up, Nan," her father said, without a single +trace of his recent display. "Guess I'm full of dust." + +He passed through the little room like some overwhelming mammoth. He +seemed altogether too vast for the small home, which had never grown +with his other worldly possessions. Nan watched him go. Then she laid +the mail down on a side table and began to sort it out. + +There were a number of letters for Jeff. These she set carefully aside +in a pile by themselves for redirection. There were several addressed +in girlish hands to herself. For Bud there were only a few. She +glanced over the superscription of each. One or two were easily +recognized business letters. There was a paper, however, addressed in +Jeff's hand, and a letter of considerable bulk. These were what she +had been looking for. She pushed the bunkhouse mail aside, and +regarded reflectively the outer covering of Jeff's letter to her father. + +It was not the first he had received from Jeff during the four weeks +since their return home. But its bulk this time was out of the +ordinary, and the carefully folded news sheet was more than +interesting. It awakened every doubt, every fear to which she had been +a prey. + +The rapid beating of her heart left her with a choking sensation. +Vivid imagination was at work, and she was reading in fancy under those +covers that which, sooner or later, she knew she must read in fact. + +These were bad moments for the girl, moments which found her again +struggling with that self which left her little enough peace. Perhaps +the struggle lasted five minutes. Perhaps less. At any rate it seemed +an eternity to Nan before the hired girl announced the meal. + +Nan sighed as she moved from the side table on which the mail was +spread out. + +"Give father a call," she said, and took up a position at the open +French window. + +Her back was turned when Bud responded to the summons. The cold sluice +he had just indulged in seemed to have entirely restored his +equanimity. His voice came cheerily. + +"Guess we best set in, little gal," he said, moving to his place at the +table. "We'll need to get busy after." + +Nan turned. She watched Maimie deposit the hot dishes. Then, when the +girl had withdrawn, she took her place opposite her father. + +"There's a deal of mail for Jeff," she said, as she sat down. "There's +some for you, too, Daddy. There's a letter and--a newspaper. Maybe +you'd feel like reading them right away. Guess there won't be time +after." + +With all her might she struggled for indifference. With all her might +she desired that her father should miss the fears which prompted her. +But she only succeeded in telling him of them in every word she spoke. + +Bud agreed readily. He rose and fetched his letter--and the newspaper +which Nan so feared. + +Nan went on with her food. Her father tore open the covering of the +letter. She was watching him covertly and silently whilst he read page +after page. She was searching for confirmation of her worst fears. +She was torturing herself. + +Bud's dissimulation was never great. Nan watched the play of his +expression. There was no smile. As the silent moments passed his brow +became heavier. The furrow deepened between his eyes, and once there +came that rather helpless raising of his hand to his forehead. Then, +too, she observed the compression of his lips, and the occasional +dilation of his nostrils. Each observation carried conviction, and the +weight upon her heart grew almost insupportable. + +Finally he laid the letter down and went on with his meal. But he did +not even glance at the wrappered newspaper. + +In self-defense Nan was forced to break the silence. If it had +remained she felt she must scream. Instead she smiled over at him, and +indicated the newspaper. + +"The _Calthorpe Times_, isn't it?" she said without a tremor. + +"Can't say." + +The harsh tone was intended to convey indifference. + +"Won't you open it?" she asked. "Maybe Jeff's marked a piece." + +Then Bud gave a display such as Nan had never witnessed in him before. + +"Say, ain't we never to get food a feller ken eat?" he cried. "That +nigger slut needs firin' right away. Guess she couldn't cook a dry +hash on a round-up. I'm quittin'. This stew 'ud choke a she-wolf." + +His eyes were hot. He thrust his plate away from him and pushed back +his chair. But Nan's calmness defeated his almost childlike subterfuge. + +"Say, my Daddy, you don't need to quit. Sure," she added, a pathetic +smile lighting her brown eyes, "I guess the stew's pretty good to any +hungry folks, and Maimie's just the dandiest cook anywhere around." + +She paused. Bud stood yearning for five minutes of unrestrained +blasphemy as he read the understanding lying behind her words. + +"I don't guess it's the food worrying, or Maimie's cooking," Nan went +on, almost at once. "It's your letter. Maybe there's a heap of things +in it you aren't yearning to hand over to me." A sigh escaped her. +"Will I tell you of them? Maybe one'll be sufficient. It's the one +worrying you most. It's--it's his marriage. It's fixed. The date--I +mean." + +Then she pointed at the unopened paper. + +"Likely it's in that. And that's why he's sent it. Shall I see?" + +She reached out and picked up the offending packet, and, with a swift +movement, ripped the fastening open with one finger. Without a word +she unfolded the sheet, seeking a marked passage. It was there, as she +knew it would be. It was found in a twinkling. No one could have +missed it. Heavy ink outlined it in the column of "City Chatter," and +she read the paragraph aloud without a tremor of voice. Her +deliberateness nearly drove the ranchman to distraction. + + +"The friends of Mrs. John D. Carruthers will be interested to learn +that the marriage of her daughter, Mrs. Elvine van Blooren, widow of +the late Robert van Blooren, to Jeffrey Masters, of the celebrated +'Obar' Ranch, and this year's President of the Western Union Cattle +Breeders' Association, is to be solemnized at the Church of St. Mary in +this city on August 4th next. The Rev. Claude I. Carston, M. A., +will----" + + +There was more of it, much more, referring in the usual local +journalistic fashion to the "happy event," and dwelling upon the +important "social standing" of the bride and bridegroom. But Nan read +no further then. There was no need to. Was not the completeness of +her disaster contained in those lines? The courage of the front she +displayed before the sympathetic eyes of her father was superlative. + +There was just a pause. It was the tragic pause under a staggering +blow. Then she forced a smile into the brave eyes, which never for a +moment fell before the other's regard. + +"There! There, my Daddy," she said, with a studied calm which did not +conceal the dry-throated swallow which accompanied the words. "I guess +it was how I thought. You were scared. Scared to tell me." She shook +her head. "It's--it's not very brave, is it? I wonder why you were +scared? You needn't have been. Folks don't need to be scared +of--anything. What you need most is just to--to grit your teeth +and--die hard." + +Her manner was becoming abstracted. It seemed as if she were +addressing herself, warning herself, and fighting down a weakness which +was threatening to overwhelm her. + +Presently she went on, while the man stood by utterly robbed of the +power to comfort her: + +"August the fourth," she murmured. "August--that's six weeks from now. +Six weeks of--sunshine and--and warmth. When the harvest's ripening, +and all the world's just--glad. And he'll be glad, and--and happy, +too. Yes, Jeff will be very, very happy because--she's going to make +him happy." + +Quite suddenly she started up from her chair. A dreadful panic had +leaped to her eyes. The delicious, healthy color had been swept from +her pretty downy cheeks. The corners of her sweet mouth were drooping, +and her hands were held out in a gesture of despairing appeal. + +"Daddy, Daddy, he will--he will be happy, won't he?" she cried. "I--I +just need him to be happy, more--yes, more than anything in the world. +Sure, sure, she'll make him happy? Oh, if she doesn't!" + +Still the man looked on, a helpless spectator of the girl's suffering. +Nor did it seem that his own was any less. But Nan seemed to realize +the weakness in her momentary display. Her hands dropped to her side. +There was even a visible effort in the manner in which she strove for +self-mastery. Her smooth brow puckered in an intense frown, and, to +Bud, it almost seemed that she was literally clenching her teeth to +hold back the passionate distress which was seeking to find expression. + +After a moment something of full self-possession seemed to return to +her. She smiled. But it was a smile that lacked conviction. A smile +that almost broke her father's heart. + +"Tell me, Daddy," she pleaded. "Do you think--he'd--he'd have me be +a--a bridesmaid? Would it sort of help him any?" she hurried on. "You +see, I--I want him to be real happy. I want him to feel that we just +love him, and that--that--we're just glad for him, and--and nothing in +the world else matters--to anybody. I'm so----" + +There was a little catch of breath. The words she would have spoken +died upon her lips. She reeled. Every vestige of color left her +pretty face, and her eyes half closed. Just for one weak instant her +hands groped behind her for the chair. Then, the next, Bud was at her +side, and one strong arm was supporting her. + +"Don't, Nan!" he cried, in his heavy cumbersome way. And the sound of +his deep voice alone served to ward off the encroachment of that final +weakness which, in spite of all her courage, the girl was at last +compelled to yield to. + +Bud drew her to him, and one hand smoothed her pretty brown hair with +rough tenderness. For a moment her head rested against his broad +bosom. Then a deep sigh came, and Nan looked up, smiling into the +steady gray eyes gazing down at her, through a mist of welling tears. + +"My dear--dear old Daddy," she murmured, as the tears finally +overflowed and slowly rolled down her cheeks. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE KNOCKING ON THE DOOR + +It seemed like the hand of Destiny that Elvine van Blooren should +wander across the path of Jeffrey Masters at a moment when all the +fruits of his ambition seemed to be falling into his outspread-hands. +It was surely the work of Fate that instant recognition of her +desirability leaped in his heart, so that some six weeks later they +should set out on their life's journey together on the eastward bound +mail train, which bore, in its foremost van, the mails for the world +outside, gathered in from every district in the region of Calthorpe. + +Their happiness was perfect. In six weeks' time the metamorphosis in +the woman had been as complete as it was in the case of the man. + +For the man it seemed that life had opened out an entirely new vista. +He had warmed under the influence of his new passion. The angles in +his character seemed to have softened. Achievement had receded into +its due proportion in his focus. The world had become peopled with +warm living creatures whose strivings were now a source of sympathy to +him. Life no longer moved about him detached, unappealing. + +So with the woman. Elvine van Blooren's past was her own. Whatever it +was she hugged it to herself, and the very process of doing so had +helped to harden her. + +But she possessed fires she had wilfully hidden, even from herself. +For four years she had lived a life of desperate calculation against +all those things she most dreaded, till she felt she had converted +herself into a machine free from all trammeling emotions, equipped +solely to execute the purpose she had set her mind on. + +These fires were awakened early. Their awakening had been all unknown +to her. Yet she had admitted them when she had warned her mother that +she intended to "like" the man she ultimately married. All +subconsciously she had "liked" Jeffrey Masters from their first formal +meeting. Further acquaintance had deepened her liking. The keen eyes +possessed strong qualities of appeal. The decision of his clean-cut +face suggested all that strength which appealed to her. + +The culmination was reached long before the appointed day of their +wedding. It came at the moment he definitely asked her to become his +wife. It had been a moment to her than which she had dreamed of +nothing more sublime. The flood-gates had been literally forced open +before a tide of sudden passion, which left her gasping, and something +incredulous. Where was all the result of her years of hard +calculation? Where was that machine upon which she had gazed with so +much confident pride? It had only served her just so long as was +required to realize that Jeffrey Masters was sufficiently desirable to +fulfil the purposes of the life she had marked out for herself. Then, +the primitive woman in her had abandoned herself to the glowing fires +burning deep within her young heart. + +Thus the bond held them both through delicious days, which so little +time before had seemed impossible to either. Thus the time drew on +toward the golden day of consummation. And with each passing day +firmer and firmer, more and more irresistible, grew the ties under +which they were held. + +As the local press had foreshadowed, the event of their marriage proved +of primary social importance. All Calthorpe speeded them upon their +life's journey, and the east-bound mail bore them away with the echo of +cheery farewells, and every other form of speeding, dying pleasantly +away behind them. So, too, the snake-like string of coaches bore the +burden of Destiny in the great uninteresting, padlocked baskets and +bags which contained the mail. + +The days of the honeymoon had been carefully thought out by Elvine. +Her wishes had been supreme. Toronto was their first destination. A +city whose bright, pleasant life appealed to her more, perhaps, even +than any of the great cities of the greater world. + +Perfect happiness was theirs from the moment of their departure +eastward. No cloud drifted in sight during their first day in the +great hotel from which they intended to view the life of Toronto. Then +came the second morning, and the--mail. + +They occupied a suite of rooms upon the first floor of the hotel. It +overlooked the wide portico which supported a deep balcony devoted to +their sole use. Jeff was alone in the luxurious sitting-room when the +mail was brought in by a waiter. He was glancing down the morning +paper while he waited for Elvine, who was preparing for a morning round +of the stores. + +His attention for the news he read was less than scant. It is doubtful +if he read more than the head-lines, and these only with partial +understanding. His mind was upon the beautiful woman in the adjacent +apartment arraying herself with all the arts of a woman in love for the +benefit of the man whose regard is alone worth while. + +His eyes were smiling unconsciously; something of the keenness of his +whole expression had become lost under their new expression. Dressed +in the simple garb of civilization he had little about him, beyond the +intense sunburn of his face, to remind one of the urgent young ranchman +who had first planned the combination which was to develop into the +famous Obar Ranch. + +At the arrival of the mail he flung his paper aside. Then he picked up +each letter in turn, examined the address, and set aside, in a separate +pile, those addressed to his wife. Of his own there were only four, +and, of these, only the one addressed in Bud's cumbersome handwriting +interested him seriously. + +Before opening it he pierced and lit a cigar. He felt that from its +bulk the letter must contain important reports from the ranch, and, +coming at such a time, would need the steadying influence of a cigar to +enable him to give them the consideration necessary. + +He lounged back in the big chair and leisurely tore open the envelope. + + * * * * * * + +The door communicating with the principal bedroom opened noiselessly. +Elvine entered the sitting-room, accompanied by that delightful rustle +of silk which is quite irresistible to male ears. At all times a +beautiful woman, just now she was incomparable. + +A joy of life lit every feature, endowing her with an animation of +expression unrecognizable in her a few short weeks ago. There was a +melting lustre in her dark eyes, a gentleness in the smiling corners of +her irresistible mouth. Her cheeks, even, seemed to have gained an +added softness of contour. While the masses of dark hair revealed +beneath her hat shone with the burnish of the raven's wing. + +Her husband had turned on the instant. His cigar was flung aside. A +moment later he was on his feet, and his arms, full of vital impulse, +came near to destroying the perfection of her toilet. + +The woman made no protest under the embrace. It told her so many +things she wanted to know. It told her of the love she now so frankly +desired. It told her, too, that the efforts on her toilet had not been +ill-spent. + +Presently Jeff stood back, holding her at arm's length, while his +hungry eyes devoured every feature of the face that had taught him so +much of the real meaning of life. + +"Splendid--just splendid!" he exclaimed. + +"My--gown?" + +The smile was enticing. The man laughed out of the buoyancy of his +heart. + +"No--you!" he cried, leaning forward for the embrace she had invited. + +A moment later he stood back again, and Elvine's eyes fell upon the +mail lying upon the table. + +"Some for me?" she inquired, moving toward it. + +Jeff nodded. Then his smile died out. His gaze had fallen upon his +own open letter. It was lying upon the table near the pile set aside +for his wife, just where he had flung it down at the moment of her +entrance. + +"Quite a few," he said. + +The unsmiling nature of his response had caught Elvine's attention. +But she picked up her letters and glanced hastily through them. + +A moment later her eyes came back to his face. + +"Aren't you going to finish yours?" she inquired. + +She was seeking the meaning of that suddenly banished smile. + +It was almost with eagerness that the man caught at the opportunity. + +"It's from Bud, and--I guess it's important. I've only two or three +pages more." + +He picked the letter up and sorted the sheets into order. Elvine +watched him. She wanted to ask a dozen questions. But she put none of +them. + +"He's your partner," was all she said. + +"Yep," he nodded, with his eyes on the pages. + +Then Elvine voiced something of her real feelings of the moment. + +"I just hate mail," she said, with what seemed unnecessary force, as +she began to draw on her gloves. "It always worries me to death. I +think it scares me. Makes me think of death, or disaster, or--or bills +and things." She laughed. "Maybe it's my pessimistic nature makes me +feel that way. When things are all sunshiny and fine, why, it kind of +feels to me there are clouds around. Nasty, mean, hateful shadows +lurking, full of----" + +"Hell for some one, eh?" + +There was a wry twist to the man's lips as he smiled his reply. + +"Guess that's how it is with mine," he went on. "I'll just read these +pages, and then we'll get going. Eh?" + +The woman's watchful eye smiled assent and she continued to draw her +gloves on. But her observation of him seemed to gather intensity the +moment he became absorbed in the clumsy, unskilled handwriting. + +The last vestige of his smile had gone. His fair brows had knitted in +a troubled frown. He seemed to read eagerly but intently, absorbed to +an unusual degree. + +She realized the seriousness of that letter. And for some curious +reason alarm supervened. He had spoken of it easily, but his manner of +reading denied his spoken word. + +The silent moments irked her. The rustle of the paper in his hands. A +feeling of foreboding grew, a feeling she knew was foolish, but which +at the same time was irresistible. She found herself speculating as to +the contents of the letter. She strove to review all the possibilities +which the great Obar Ranch could offer for disaster. And her mind +drifted back over years to a memory that gave her not a shadow of +comfort. + +The last button of her gloves had been secured when the refolding of +the letter came. Jeff deliberately, but abstractedly, returned it to +its cover. His smile was scarcely a happy one when he finally looked +up. + +"I'm through, sweetheart," he said. "Shall we----?" + +But Elvine's feelings would no longer be denied. + +"Serious as all that?" she demanded. The next moment she would have +given worlds to have been able to recall the words. + +"I'm afraid it is--in a way." + +Elvine had no option but to continue the subject. She spoke with real +feeling. + +"May I know, dear?" she appealed. "You see, Jeff, things often read +worse than they are. Maybe I can help. I've a clearer head than you'd +guess." + +The man's cheeks flushed. He had distressed her, frightened her, and +the thought of it annoyed him. He stepped toward her, his hands +outheld. She responded, and her hands were caught in his firm warm +clasp. + +"Say, I'm just sorry. I surely am. Guess I've no sort of right +scaring you. Anyway, there's nothing to be scared about. Just a bunch +of rustlers----" + +"Cattle thieves?" + +The woman's whole expression had become transformed. The announcement +had shocked her out of her self-possession. Her smile had fled. Her +eyes were wide, and their dark depths were full of a horror that seemed +quite uncalled for. Even her cheeks had lost their delicate bloom. +Her gaze was held fast by the man's steady regard. It was almost a +fascinated stare held under some powerful hypnotic influence. + +The man was at a loss. But he promptly claimed the fault to himself. + +"Don't just worry a thing, Evie," he cried, in real distress. "It +don't amount to anything. And anyway you don't need to worry. We can +deal with it. I best tell you right away. You see, it's their second +play since I've been from home. Bud's feeling sore. First it was a +great imported bull they shot up while they ran off his cows, and a +dandy bunch of yearling prize stock. Now--now it's a swell bunch of +fifty beeves that had been fattening for the buyers. The loss don't +hurt. Oh, no, it's not that." + +He paused. Somehow their hands fell apart, and, to the woman, now +recovering herself, it was as though some shadow had thrust itself +between them. She waited, vaguely troubled. Somehow speech for the +moment had become impossible to her. She was thinking, thinking far +back amidst scenes she had no desire to recall. + +Her husband went on. His manner had lost all the contrition he had +displayed at alarming her. It was abstracted. He too seemed to be +thinking deeply, far away amidst scenes which afforded him only the +deepest pain. + +"I've just thought," he said. Then he raised one strong hand and +passed it across his broad forehead. He drew a profound sigh. "Say, I +wonder," he went on reflectively. "It's things Bud's said in his yarn. +Suspicions. They brought up all sorts of queer things to my mind." + +The smile he essayed was a hopeless failure. Then, in a moment, all +doubt seemed to pass away and he spoke with quick, keen decision. + +"I'll have to tell you, Evie. You'd sort of made me forget. These +days have been the happiest I've ever known, and you've made 'em so. +That's how I forgot to tell you of things I guess you ought to know." + +But the woman before him had no desire for his present mood. She +smilingly shook her head in a decided negative. The last thing she +desired was anything in the nature of a confidence. + +"Is there any need--now?" she asked. Then she smiled. "The stores are +waiting." + +But she had yet to learn the real character of the man whom she had +married. She had yet to understand the meaning of the simple sobriquet +"Honest Jeff," which Nan Tristram had long since bestowed upon him. He +was not the man to be turned from a decision once taken. The decision +on this occasion was arrived at through the depth of the passionate +devotion which controlled his every thought. His love for Elvine made +his purpose only the more irrevocable. + +"I think they had best wait a shade longer," he said with a shadowy +smile. "You see, Evie, I kind of figure there's things that matter +more than just gathering in the fancy goods money'll buy--even for you. +Guess I owe you most everything a man can give, the same as you feel +toward me. That's how marriage--marriage like ours--seems to me. As +far as I can make it there's not going to be a thing on my conscience +toward you. I'd have told you this before, only--only you just drove +it right out of my head with the sight of your beautiful face, the +sound of your voice, which I just love, and the thought that you--you +were to be my wife. You see," he went on simply, "I hadn't room in my +head for anything else." + +His manner was so firmly gentle that Elvine's protest melted before it. +After all it was very sweet, and--and---- She drew a chair forward and +sat down. But her smile hid her real feelings. Confidences, +confessions, even from a husband, were repugnant to her. + +Jeff remained standing. He gazed for a few silent moments in the +direction of the open window. The expression of his blue eyes +suggested a deep, searching introspection. He might have been +searching for an opening. Again, he might simply have been reviewing +scenes which stirred his innermost soul with their horror and pain. + +At last, however, Elvine made a half impatient movement. Instantly the +blue eyes turned in her direction, and their expression startled her. +They were full of a stony, passionless regard. Not for her, but +inspired by the thought behind them. She shivered under their gaze and +their impression upon her was never afterward obliterated. + +"It's four years past now," he began, in a voice she scarcely +recognized. "These rustlers brought it all back to me. Say, Evie, I +had a twin brother, Ronald. Maybe that won't convey much. I sort of +loved him--better than myself. That's all. He was a bit queer. I +mean he just didn't care a heap for running along the main trail of +things. He was apt to get all mussed up running around byways. Well, +when Bud and I fixed up the Obar partnership, I was just crazy to hunt +Ronny down, and hand him a share. Bud's a great feller, and I told +him. I knew whereabouts the boy had staked out, and, figuring we'd +earned a vacation, Bud and I set out to round him up, and hand him a +piece which I guessed would keep him with me the rest of his life." + +He paused. He drew a deep breath, and his eyes, hard as marble, had +turned again in the direction of the window. + +Elvine was held even against herself. The expression of his eyes, even +more than the curious sharpness of his voice, troubled her, alarmed her. + +"I'm not going to yarn more than necessary," he went on after a moment. +"There isn't any need. I just want to give you the deadly facts. As I +said, I knew his layout, where he was--supposed to be trapping pelts. +Supposed. Bud had been raised in the district, so he acted scout. He +made the location and found him. D'you know how?" + +There was a restrained fierceness in the sharp demand. + +The woman shook her head. Any word would have seemed out of place. + +"Hanging by the neck to the bough of a tree." + +"Jeff, don't!" the woman gasped. + +But now there was a smile in the man's eyes. It was a terrible smile +which drove every vestige of color from his wife's cheeks. + +"I had to tell you," he cried harshly. "They hanged him for a cattle +thief. He was one. Oh, yes. He was one. That's why I had to tell +you." + +The woman's eyes were wide with a sudden terror to which the man +remained oblivious. + +"But you said----" + +"I said he was pelt hunting. So he'd told me. So I believed. But he +wasn't. Say, he was a cattle rustler running a big gang who'd played +hell with the district. He'd been running it for nigh five years. +He'd beaten 'em to a mush, all that time, till a reward was offered. A +reward of ten thousand dollars. That fixed him. There was some one +knew wanted that reward, and--got it." + +There was a sudden movement in the room. Elvine had abruptly risen +from her chair. She moved away. She crossed to the window, and stood +with her back turned, and so had thrust herself into her husband's +focus. + +"It's--it's a terrible--dreadful story," came her faltering comment. + +"Terrible? Dreadful?" The man emitted a sound that might have been a +laugh. A shudder passed down the woman's back as it fell upon her +ears. "But it's nothing to the reality, Evie. Oh, I've no sympathy +for his crimes. I hate rustlers like the poison they are. But he was +twin to me, and I loved him. It made no difference to me. You see, he +was part of me. Now--now I only hope the good God'll let me come up +with the man who took the price of his blood. For four years I've +dreamed that way, and I guess it don't matter if it's fifty more. I'll +never change. There's some one, somewhere, who's lower down than the +worst cattle rustler ever lived." + +There was no response as the man ceased speaking. Elvine had not +stirred from her place at the window. The moments passed. Swift, +poignant moments, in which two people were enduring an agony of +recollection. + +The man's relentless expression never changed. His eyes were gazing +straight ahead. And though his vision was obstructed by the perfect +contours of his wife's figure, he was gazing through her, and beyond +her, upon a scene which had for its central interest the suspended +figure of a man with his head lolling forward and sideways, and his +dead eyes bulging from their sockets. + +Elvine never stirred. Her gaze was upon the crowded thoroughfare +beyond. But like her husband, she was gazing through and beyond. She +was watching the tongues of flame as they licked up the resinous trunks +and foliage of a great pine bluff. + +At length it was the woman's voice broke the silence. + +"Where--where did this all happen?" + +The question was the verbal expression of a despairing hope. The +voice, however, was steady. + +"In the Cathills." + +"The Lightfoot gang?" + +"Yes. That's what he called it. You knew of them?" + +There was a slight movement of the woman's shoulders. It was the +faintest possible shrug. + +"Everybody in Calthorpe heard of them." + +Then she turned and faced him. The mask with which she confronted him +was perfect. Her dark beauty was unimpaired by a sign of emotion. +Even her cheeks had returned to their customary delicate bloom. Her +eyes shone with a world of sympathy as she came toward him. + +"Jeff, don't think of it all--now, dear. It's too, too dreadful. +Guess I was wrong to let you tell me. I certainly was. It's past. +It's done with. Nothing can ever bring him back to you. To dwell upon +it, to think and feel that way, will only serve to embitter your life. +Say, try, Jeff. I'll help you, dear. I will. Sure. Sure. Won't you +try, for--my sake?" + +The man took her hands in his. He drew her toward him. The strained +expression of his eyes melted before her perfect beauty. + +"I'll try, Evie," he said, without conviction. Then he kissed her. + +After a while she looked up. + +"And the stores, Jeff?" + +The man smiled down in response. + +"Sure--the stores." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE HOME-COMING + +Six weeks of all she had ever hoped for, dreamed of, in the lean years +of heart starvation. The complete devotion of a strong man, a man who +held a place in the world she knew. Every luxury wealth could purchase +at her disposal, even to satiation. Her every whim ministered to, and +even anticipated. This was something of the ripe fruit literally +heaped into Elvine's lap. She had longed for it, schemed for it, and +Providence had permitted all her efforts complete success. + +Now, with those six weeks behind her, she gazed upon the balance-sheet. +She looked for the balance of happiness. To her horror it was blotted +out, smudged out of all recognition. Oh, yes, the figures had been +entered, but now they were completely obscured. + +It was the last stage of her journey to her new home. It was a journey +being made in the saddle. Their baggage, a large number of trunks +loaded with the precious gleanings from the great stores during the +honeymoon, had been sent on ahead by wagon. There was nothing, so far +as could be seen, to rob the home-coming of its proper sense of +delight. Yet delight was more than far off. Elvine was a prey to a +hopelessness which nothing seemed able to relieve. + +Summer was not yet over, although the signs of the coming fall were by +no means lacking. The hard trail, like some carefully set out +terra-cotta ribbon upon a field of tawny green, took them through a +region of busy harvesting. The tractors and threshers were busily +engaged in many directions. Great stacks of straw testified to the +ample harvest in progress. Fall ploughing had already begun, and +high-wheeled wagons bore their burden of produce toward the distant +elevators. Then, too, human freight passed them, happy, smiling +freight of old and young, whose sun-scorched faces reflected something +of the joy of life and general prosperity prevailing. + +A radiant sun looked down upon the scenes through which they passed. +It was the wonderful ripening God almost worshipped of these people who +lived by the fruits of the earth. Jeffrey Masters understood it all, +and reveled in the pleasant senses it stirred. For he, too, lived by +the fruits of the earth, although his harvest was garnered in the flesh +of creature kind. + +Elvine looked on with eyes that beheld but saw nothing of that which +inspired her husband. Remembrance claimed her. Too well she +remembered. And gladly would she have shut out such sights altogether, +for more and more surely they crushed her already depressed spirits to +a depth from which it seemed impossible to raise them. + +Nor was her beautiful face without some reflection of this. Her smile +was ready for the man at her side. She laughed and talked in a manner +so care-free that he could never have suspected. But in repose, when +no eyes were upon her, a lurking, hunted dread peered furtively out of +her dark eyes, and the fine-drawn lines gathered about her shapely +lips, and seriously marred the serenity of their youthful contours. + +She had one purpose now, one only. It was to ward off the blow which +she knew might fall at any moment when she reached her new home. The +threat of it was with her always. It drove her to panic in the dark of +night. It left her watchful and fearful in the light of day. At all +times the memory of her husband's words dinned through her brain like +the haunt of some sickening melody. + +"Now I only hope the good God'll let me come up with the man who took +the price of his blood." + +It had been spoken coldly. It had been spoken with an intensity of +bitterness that left an impression as hard as flint. The tone had set +her shuddering. Then the look in those cold blue eyes when at last she +had turned confronting them. No, there had been no mercy in them. No +mercy, she told herself, for--anybody. + +At that moment she had known that the earth could hold no future peace +for her. She felt that Fate had passed sentence on her, and she was +powerless to stay its execution. Her husband demanded vengeance upon +the man who had accepted the price of his brother's blood. + +For the moment she had been stunned. Then had risen up in her a +desperate courage. She would fight. She would fight for herself, she +would fight for the love which all unbidden, all undesired, had come to +her. Then, in the end, if defeat should overtake her, she would, yes, +she could, submit to the punishment his hand should mete out to her. + +Strangely, from that moment her love for this man seemed to increase a +thousandfold. He grew in her heart a towering colossus of worship. +The primitive in her bowed down before his image ready to yield to his +lightest word, while, by every art, she was ready to cajole and foster +his love. + +It was all she knew, understood. It was the woman in her who possessed +no other weapons of defense. She loved him, she desired him, then +nothing was too small to cling to with the wild hope of the drowning. +When the day came that he should turn and rend her soul she could +submit. But until that day she would cling to every straw that offered. + +While the scenes through which they were passing preoccupied the man, +the silence of the wide plains left Elvine to her fears. The great +breadth of the world about her added to her hopelessness. And after a +silence which had become unduly protracted, she took refuge in talk for +which she had no real desire. + +"It's beautiful, but--oppressive," she said, and the words were the +inspiration of genuine thought. + +But the man was like one who has spent a world of love and devotion +upon carving a beautiful setting and is now about to complete his work +by securing in place the crowning jewel. He had no room for any +feeling of oppression. He shook his head. + +"Say, Evie," he cried, "I just can't allow you the word 'oppressive.' +I just can't. Look--look right out there toward the hills we're +making. Take the colors as they heap up to the distance. Every shade, +I guess, from green to purple. It makes me feel good. It gives me +room to stretch myself. It sort o' sweeps away a whole heap of fusty +city smells, and gives us something a deal more worth breathing. It's +a man's place. And it's full of man's work. Guess Providence got busy +an' set it all out for us. Providence guessed we'd have to use it. +But Providence didn't just guess how far crazy human nature really was. +She didn't foresee we'd gather around in the musty dump-holes we call +cities. She didn't figure on our tastes for the flesh-pots, and the +indulgence of the senses she'd handed us. But then Providence knows +her power to fix us right when she feels that way." Then he spread out +his arms with an inexpressible suggestion of longing. "Say, I'm +crazy--plumb crazy to get the first peek at that dandy home I've had +fixed for you." + +The woman's eyes sought her husband's with a smile that was a caress. + +"You're good to me, Jeff," she said. Then she added: "So good." Her +smile deepened. "You'd hand me the world with--with a fence around it, +if I asked. Why? Why are you like that?" + +It was the love in her seeking reassurance. Nor was she disappointed. + +"Why?" The man laughed. And the sound of it was good to hear. It was +deep, and seemed to come from the depths of his soul. His blue eyes +shone with a world of devotion. "Guess I love you--just that," he +said. Then he pointed at the distant hills. "I can't tell you all I +feel, Elvie," he said, "but get those hills. See them. There, that +peak, sitting right up over its fellows, with a cap of snow on it I +don't guess the sun could ever melt. That's thousands of feet up. I'd +say man's foot was never set there, nor bird's, nor animal's either. +Well, if that peak was a throne it 'ud give you pleasure to occupy, +why, I guess I'd just go the limit to have you sit there." + +Elvine was gazing at the mountain crest, but she was not thinking of +it. She was thinking of the love which the extravagant words +expressed, and she was wondering at the bigness of it. She was caught +in its power, and it thrilled her with an even greater appreciation of +her danger. What would be the result upon such a nature as this man's +when--he knew? + +"I believe you would," she said, her eyes coming back to the strong, +flushed face. Then she added: "Now." + +"Now?" + +There was a quick lifting in the man's fair brows. There was +incredulity in his tone. To him it seemed impossible, the implied +doubt in her final word. + +"I don't change easy, Elvie," he protested. "I kind of get things +hard. It's my way, and it's no doing of mine. Life's a full-sized +proposition, and I don't guess we can see far through it. But I can't +imagine a thing that could come before you in my thoughts." + +"I'd like to think that. I'd like to feel that," Elvine returned. She +was smiling up into his eyes. "You see, Jeff, I was kind of thinking. +We're young now. We've been together just six weeks. Maybe you'll get +used to me later. Men do get used to women till they become sort of +part of the furniture. Oh, I guess their love goes right on, but--but +they wouldn't feel like starting in to fence in the North Pole, or--or +hitch up Niagara to their wife's buggy just because she fancied that +way. Say, Jeff, when I lose your love I just lose everything in the +world. You--you won't ever let me lose it, will you?" + +Jeff shook his head, and smiled in the confidence of feelings. + +"Don't ever talk that way. Don't ever think like that," he urged her. +Then, as their horses ambled side by side up the last gentle incline +before they dropped down to the great plain of the Rainbow Hill Valley, +which was the setting of the Obar Ranch, he drew nearer and reached out +one arm and gently encircled her waist. "Guess you're feeling like me +just now, Evie. Do you know what I mean? We're getting home. +Home--yours and mine. Well, say, that home is in my mind now, and it's +full to the brim of thoughts of you. You're in it--everywhere. You're +part of it. You're just part of me. I can't see any future without +you. It don't seem to me there could be any. I don't doubt. I guess +the thought of it don't scare me a thing. Maybe with you it's +different. Maybe you're scared such happiness can't last. But I tell +you it can--it will. You're with me now and always, and I can't see a +shadow that could come between us." + +"None? No, none, none!" + +The woman forced conviction into her final denial, and, for a moment, +she permitted herself to yield to the reassuring embrace. Then she +started up and released herself. + +"Oh, Jeff!" she cried. "I just pray all the time that nothing shall +ever rob me of your love. Night and day I pray that way. If I were to +lose you, I--I think nothing else would much matter." + +The man smiled with supreme confidence. They had reached the top of +the hill, and he set his horse into a canter. + +"You're just going to live right on--for me, sweetheart," he cried. +"Be yourself. Just yourself. The frank, honest woman I know and love. +If ever the shadows you fear come to worry us, they'll have to be of +your own creating. We have nothing to fear from the future, nothing at +all. We'll just drive right on down the clear trail of life. It's +only in the byways there's any ugly dumps. Look!" He suddenly flung +out one arm, pointing ahead where the great Obar plains rolled away +toward the hills below them. "That's the ranch. There. That one +there is Bud's homestead, and the other to the right's your--our home. +Say, it's good to see--mighty good!" + + * * * * * * + +Nan gazed upon the result of her labors and decided that it was good. +Bud was observing her in his unobtrusive way. They were together in +the new parlor of the home which Jeff had had reconstructed under Nan's +most careful supervision. + +The girl had put forth her greatest effort, greater even than she +herself realized, for it had been inspired by a desire that Jeff and +his wife should never realize the pain and bitter disappointment she +had endured. + +Now, as she surveyed each detail in her final tour of inspection, she +convinced herself that nothing, nothing she could think of had been +forgotten. Even the city-bred Elvine could find no fault with any +detail of it. + +She and Bud were standing side by side rather like two children gazing +in awed wonder at some undreamed of splendor suddenly discovered in a +familiar playground, every square foot of which they had believed +themselves familiar with. + +"I--don't think I've forgotten a thing," Nan said, in a tone subdued by +her weight of responsibility. + +"Not a thing," agreed Bud, with a perfect disregard for any +consequences his statement might have. + +He was utterly unchanged. He had made no preparation to receive the +bride and bridegroom in their home. He was just the cattleman nothing +could change him from. His gray flannel shirt was agape over his +sunburned chest. His leather chapps creaked as he moved, his vicious +spurs clanked. Then, too, the curling iron-gray hair of his bared head +was innocent of all extra combing. With Nan it was different. She had +striven to rid herself of every sign of the prairie to which she +belonged. She was dressed with consummate care. Every jealous feeling +of the woman in her had cried out for her rights, and those rights were +that her successful rival should be unable to sneer at or pity her. + +The result was a delightful picture that filled Bud's heart with +admiration. And for perhaps the thousandth time he silently +anathematized the blind folly of the man who had wilfully cast his eyes +in another direction. + +Nan seated herself in one of the luxuriously inviting armchairs, while +Bud insinuated his huge form on to the polished surface of a large +central table. + +"You know, Daddy, I sort of feel like a feller who's guessed the right +answer to a question he hadn't a notion of. Maybe you won't get just +how I mean." The smile in her pretty eyes changed to a deep +seriousness. "You know when I was a little teeny girl all mud and +overall, that never could keep me within measurable distance of being +clean, you used to talk to me just as if you were speaking your +thoughts aloud. Guess it was about the time poor Momma died, or maybe +soon after. I kind of remember you were squatting Indian fashion on +the veranda of our shack, I'd been busy in the hopes of drowning myself +in a half dry mud hole, and had mostly succeeded in absorbing more of +the dirt than seemed good for a single meal. Guess I must have started +to cry, and you'd reached out and grabbed me, and fetched me up on your +lap, and were handing me a few words you reckoned to cheer me up with. +Do you remember them, my Daddy? I don't guess you do. I didn't till a +while later, and then I didn't figure out their meaning till I went to +school. You said, 'Tears is only for kiddies an' grown women. Kiddies +mostly cry because they don't understand, an' grown women because they +do. Anyway, neither of 'em need to cry, if they only get busy an' +think a while. Ther' ain't a thing in this life calls for a tear from +a living soul, not even a stomachful of moist mud, 'cos, you see, +ther's Someone who fixes everything the way it should go, an' it's the +right way. So we'll jest give you a dose of physic to help boost the +show along.'" She glanced round her with smiling eyes at the +tastefully arrayed furnishings of the parlor. "This has been the dose +of physic I gave myself, and--and I feel better for it. I had the mud, +and, why, the tears came just as they did before. Maybe if I'd been +able to think right I wouldn't have shed them. But I just couldn't +think right then. But I've thought since, and the physic's helped me. +Do--do you think he'll like it all?" + +The contemplative gaze of her father was full of gentle amusement. + +"Sure he will--if he ain't changed any." + +Nan shook her head. + +"Jeff couldn't change. Even marriage couldn't change Jeff. You see, +Jeff's got notions of life which are just part of him. Maybe he'll +soften some in ways and things, but his notions'll remain, and they'll +stand right out in all he does." + +But Bud remained without conviction. + +"A good woman can set a big man hunting a halo," he said. "An' I allow +he's li'ble to find it, if she don't weaken in her play. But a bad +woman--why, I guess a bad woman can send him down quicker than most +things in life, once she tucks herself into a corner of his life depot." + +"But Jeff would never fall in love with a bad woman." Nan protested +swiftly, an odd little pucker of anxiety gathering between her brows. +"I--I'm sure his wife's a good woman." + +"An' I ain't any sort o' reason to think diff'rent." + +"But you do think--that way." + +Nan's understanding of her father was wide. It could scarcely have +been otherwise, since he had been her sole companion for so many years. + +But Bud was to be drawn no further. + +"Ther' ain't no accounting fer how folks think when they ain't out on a +joy trip," he grumbled, as he moved across to the open window, and +stood gazing out over the trail from the northeast. Then all further +discussion was abandoned in a small wave of excitement. He was +pointing down the trail. + +"Say, they're coming right along now. An'----" + +But Nan was at his side. Something of the color had faded out of her +cheeks, and she clung to her father's arm as she gazed along the narrow +winding road. Her breath was coming rapidly. For all her courage, now +that the moment of great trial had arrived, she felt very weak, very +helpless. + +Bud understood. He released his arm from her nervous clasp, and placed +it gently about her shoulders. "It's Jeff setting the gait," he said. +"I'd say he's crazy to get home." Then he added as though to himself: +"Guess I'd as lief seen her on the lead." + +But Nan gave no heed to his words. The soul of the girl was in her +eyes, which were full of a deep terror and yearning. She had schooled +herself for this meeting How she had schooled herself! And now it +seemed beyond her powers to live up to that schooling. + +Never for a moment did she withdraw her gaze. It was held fascinated, +perhaps against her will. They came on, riding at an almost racing +gallop, and finally drew up with their horses fighting against the +restraining bits. + +Bud and Nan were on the veranda. Bud's attitude was one of almost shy +reserve. Nan was smiling a welcome such as a moment before would have +seemed quite impossible. But her schooling had finally triumphed in +the crisis, and her loyalty to her generous love had vanquished every +baser feeling. It was her hands which clasped those of the city woman +before she sprang lightly from the saddle. It was her steady voice +spoke the first words of welcome. + +"Say, you sure must be tired with your journey," she said. "Come right +in to--your new home." + +Bud had averted his eyes the moment she began to speak. He could not +witness that greeting. His courage was unequal to it. Instead he +greeted Jeff in his own fashion, as though nothing unusual had occurred. + +"Nan's got everything through for you same as you asked. After you've +eaten, why, I guess we'll need to make some talk. Things have been +moving, boy. Guess we'll need to get busy." + +Nan had taken Elvine into the house, and one of the barn-hands was +waiting to take the horses. Jeff leaped from the saddle. Once in the +company of his partner, with all the atmosphere of the world to which +he belonged about him, all the excitement of his home-coming seemed to +drop from him. He even seemed to have forgotten that this was the +final great event of his new life--the bringing of his bride to the +home he had prepared for her. But Nan's estimate of him was right. +Jeff's was a nature that could not be changed, even by his marriage. +His love, his marriage, Elvine; these things were, in reality, merely +episodes. Delightful episodes. Before all things his work claimed him. + +"You mean the--rustlers?" + +The two men were facing each other on the wide veranda. The trailing +wild cucumber vines tempered the blaze of sunlight and left the +atmosphere of the veranda cool. Jeff mopped the beads of perspiration +from his forehead under his wide hat, which had been thrust back on his +head. + +"That's so." Bud's eyes were following the horses as they moved away +in the wake of the barn-hand. + +"It's pretty bad?" + +"An' gettin' worse." + +Bud's eyes came back to his partner's face. They gazed steadily into +it. + +"Can't you tell me--now? Evie's in there with Nan," he added +significantly. + +Bud shook his head. + +"It's a big yarn, an' needs time. But----" He paused, searching the +other's face. + +"Go right on." + +Jeff read through the pause. He waited, his lips firmly set. + +Bud cleared his throat. + +"I've got to say these things later if I don't say 'em now, Jeff, boy. +What I need to tell 'll make you sore, an' I don't guess it's the best +sort o' welcome making you sore at your home-comin'. It's the worst of +the yarn anyway, an' I kind o' feel it's best spitting out the worst +right away. We're up against a gang, a slick gang, organized right, +same as----" + +He hesitated. But the younger man seemed to have no similar scruples. + +"The gang my brother ran." + +Bud nodded. + +"Some of 'em got clear away--that time." + +"And you figure after giving things time to get forgotten they've +gathered up a crowd of toughs and started in on this district?" + +"It seems that way." + +"How?" + +"System," Bud declared sharply. "They're takin' a steady toll of us, +an' other folks in the district. We trailed 'em to the hills, +an'--lost 'em. Say, if we don't handle 'em it means----" + +"Something like ruin for the--Obar." + +Jeff's manner was shorn of any equivocation. He spoke with almost +ruthless force, but the coldness of tone was incomparable with the +steely light in his blue eyes. + +After a moment's silence he turned away. He stood looking back over +the trail he had just left, and Bud regarded his keen profile, waiting. +He felt there was nothing more for him to say at the moment. + +At last the other turned in his quick, decided fashion as the sound of +the women's voices reached them from within the parlor. + +"Will you stop and eat with us?" he asked bluntly. + +Bud shook his head. + +"Not now, Jeff, boy. This is your home-coming." + +"Yes. Well, I'll get around your place to-morrow morning, Bud. We can +make big talk then." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE RANCHMAN + +The cool night breeze died out under the increasing heat of the early +sun. Away to the west gossamer melted upon the hillsides. The +mountain tops stood out under their eternal snows, above the lower +cloud belts. The summer dews on thirsty foliage dried up before their +mission was completed. But the wide prairie world stood up refreshed +to withstand the day's heat yet to come. + +Elvine Masters was on the veranda of her new home gazing after the +receding figure of her husband, who had just left her to discuss with +his partner those vital things which they had touched upon at the +moment of his arrival yesterday. + +Everywhere about her the busy life of the ranch was stirring. Inside +the house the maids were at work garnishing the home which Nan had +already left spotless. The corrals, which stood out from the shelter +of a wood bluff, were claiming attention from several cow-hands. +Sounds reached her from the region of the bunkhouse, away to the right. +Then at the barns, and other ranch buildings, the voices of men implied +the work that was going forward in their region. Away in the distance +isolated horsemen were moving about in the apparently aimless fashion +of all fence riders, while, dotted about, small bands of cattle +proceeded leisurely with the endless task of endeavoring to satisfy the +craving of insatiable appetites. + +The woman's farewell smile had left her eyes cold as she surveyed the +scene. There was no sign of the expressed delight with which she had +followed Nan at her first inspection of her new home. The recollection +of it had even left her. Only a certain sense of the irony of it all +occupied her. That, and a painful wonder as to when the dread under +which she labored would materialize into the shattering of every hope +within her heart. + +Presently a "hand" appeared leading a saddle horse. He was a +youngster, a "barn-hand" who only worked around cattle in times of +pressure. But he possessed all the air of a cowpuncher, which he +ultimately purposed to become. Elvine watched his leisurely approach, +and remembered the days when she would have saddled her own pony. + +The boy displayed no sign of deference. He stood before her chewing a +straw with all the unconcern of his kind, his arm linked through the +reins, and his hands thrust into the tops of his trousers. He was +probably not more than thirteen years of age, but he possessed all the +independence bred in the calling of the cattle world. + +Elvine broke in upon his meditative curiosity as he surveyed the new +mistress of the ranch. + +"What's your name, boy?" she demanded, in a tone of authority. + +But the youngster was not to be startled out of his leisurely regard. +An amiable smile upon his unclean face was the preliminary result of +the question. + +"Pete, ma'am," he replied after a moment. "An' around this bum lay-out +I mostly reckon to have to do the stunts other folks don't notion." + +"Chore boy?" + +"Wal, mebbe that's how I figger on the pay roll. I allow I ain't allus +called that way." + +The smile had left his eyes. He was talking with the frank candor of +one unused to being taken notice of. There was a deep curiosity in the +look with which he surveyed her. He had already been told that the +boss's wife was a "swell piece," and his youthful mind was eager to +verify the opinion. + +"How do they call you then?" Elvine took the reins and threw them back +over the horse's head, and examined the cinching of the saddle with the +touch of experience. + +"Mostly a 'mule-headed bussock,' ma'am. Sometimes I allow they change +it to 'slap-sided hoboe,' or somethin' more fancy. But that's jest the +ignorant bums that ain't got no more learnin' than'll let 'em lose +their cents reg'lar at 'draw.' Ther's others who don't jest use +langwidge--only their feet. Then ther's the foreman, Lal Hobhouse. +Mebbe you ain't acquainted yet--you bein' new around these parts. He's +a fine bully feller till he gits mad. Then he's mean, ma'am. Guess +he's most as mean as a skunk. He needs watching if you want to get on +a racket. I don't guess he ever laffed in his life. Not even at a +cirkis. Yep. He's a holy terror when he's mad. He cowhided me +t'other day so I ain't sat right in a week. If he was to start in to +fix you that way, why----" + +"I don't guess he'll cowhide me," said Elvine quickly, as she swung +herself into the saddle. "I'm not likely go on a racket." Then she +leaned forward over the horn of the saddle, and smiled down into the +unclean face gawking up at her. "How'd you fancy looking after my +horses and saddle and things? I mean just look after them for me, and +nothing else?" + +The boy's eyes lit. + +"Bully!" he cried eagerly. "That way I wouldn't have to wash lousy +clothes for the bunkhouse. Would I? Then they wouldn't be able to +fire rocks at me when I sassed 'em. Bully!" + +"I'll speak to Lal Hobhouse about it." + +The hope died out of the boy's eyes. + +"You won't tell him wot I said, ma'am?" he pleaded. "You see, I was +jest settin' you wise, you bein' new around here. It ain't friendly +not to put folks wise, is it? He's a bully feller sure, ma'am, an' I +ain't got a word agin him. I hain't reely. I wouldn't 'a' sed a word +if I'd tho't----" + +"Don't you worry, boy," Elvine cried, as she turned her horse about. +"I wouldn't give you away. I wouldn't give anybody away--now. You +see, you never know how things of that sort can come back on you." + +The obvious relief in the boy's dirty face was more than sufficient to +bring back the smile to Elvine's eyes, which, for the moment, had +become almost painfully serious. But as she rode away leaving the boy +gawking after her she quickly returned to the mood which had only been +broken by the interlude. + +It was an interlude not easily forgotten, however. It had brought home +to her a fresh revelation. And it had come in the boy's final appeal +not to give him away. A fierce sense of shame surged through her +heart. It communicated itself to her eyes, and displayed itself +further in the deep flush on her beautiful cheeks. Yet its reason must +have remained obscure to any observer. + +She rode on urging her pony to a gait which set him reaching at his +bit. She sat her saddle in a fashion which belonged solely to the +prairie. The long stirrups and straight limb. The lightness, and that +indescribable something which suggests the single personality of horse +and rider. + +She had no intention of returning to the ranch house until the noonday +meal, and meanwhile it was her purpose to explore something of the vast +domain which her husband controlled. + +It was curious that her purpose should lead her thus. For somehow all +sense of delight in these possessions had passed from her. At one time +the thought of his thousands upon thousands of acres had filled her +with a world of desire, and pride that she was to share in them. But +not now. With every furlong she covered her mood depressed, and her +sense of dread increased. She felt as though she were surveying from a +great distance the details of the prize she had coveted, but the +possession of which was denied her. This--this was the wealth her +husband had bestowed upon her, she told herself bitterly, and some +greater power, some fatalistic power, purposed to snatch it from her +before it reached her hands. + +She rode straight for the rising land of the foothills. It almost +seemed as though she were drawn thither by some magnetic influence. +She had formed no definite decision to travel that way. Perhaps it was +the result of a subconscious realization of the monotony of the rolling +tawny grass-land on the flat. The distant view of grazing cattle +failed to break it. The occasional station shack and corral. The +hills rose up in sharp contrast and great variety. There were the +woodland bluffs. There were little trickling streams. There was that +sense of the wild beyond. Perhaps it was all this. Or perhaps it was +the call of a memory, which drew her beyond her power of resistance. + +She had long since left all beaten trails, and her way took her over +the wiry growth of seeding grass. She had arrived at the bank of a +narrow reed-grown creek, which meandered placidly in the deeps of a +trough between two waves of grass-land. It had been her intention to +cross it, but the marshy nature of its bed deterred her. So she rode +on until the rising ground abruptly mounted and merged into the two +great hills which formed the portals through which the stream had found +an outlet from its mountain prison to the freedom of the plains beyond. + +For a moment she paused at the edge of a woodland bluff which mounted +the slope to her right, and crowned the hillock with a thatch of dark +green pine foliage. She gazed up with questioning eyes. And the +familiarity of the tattered foliage left her without enthusiasm for its +beauty. Then she gazed ahead along the course of the stream. And it +was obvious that she was in some doubt as to whether she should still +proceed. + +After a moment of deep consideration she lifted her reins and her horse +moved forward. Then, suddenly, he was still again, held with a +tightened rein. The soft but rapid plod of galloping hoofs came out of +the distance. It was coming toward her from the hills, and an +unaccountable but overwhelming desire to beat a hasty retreat took +possession of her. + +But the action never matured. She was still facing the hills when a +horseman emerged from a narrow pathway which split up converging +bluffs. He was riding at a great pace, and was heading straight for +the bank of the river where she had paused. + +Elvine remained where she was. She made no effort either to proceed or +retreat. Somehow curiosity had caught her up and left her with no +other emotion. She regarded the stranger with searching eyes. At the +moment his features were too indistinct to obtain an impression. But +his general appearance left nothing to question. He was a cow-hand +without a doubt. His open shirt and loose waistcoat, his chapps, and +the plaited rawhide rope which hung from the horn of his saddle. These +were sufficient evidence. But for the rest, the wide flapping brim of +his hat left her no estimate of the face beneath it. + +He came on. He even swerved his horse on one side as though to pass +her without pausing. Elvine's pony stirred restlessly in a desire to +join the stranger. Then, in a flash, the whole position was changed. +The man reined up his horse with a heavy "yank" which almost flung it +on its haunches, and a pair of fierce black eyes were staring into the +woman's face with a light of startled recognition shining in their +depths. + +"You!" he cried, without any other form of greeting. And into the word +he flung a world of harsh meaning. + +Elvine's reply was a blank stare, which had in it not a fraction of the +recognition he displayed. Not for an instant did her regard waver. It +was full of a haughty displeasure at the nature of the greeting. Nor +did she deign reply. + +The man sat for a moment as though incredulous. Then he thrust his hat +back from his head, displaying the brutal ugliness of his face. Elvine +observed the coarse moustache, the lean cheeks, the low forehead and +vicious eyes. The lips were hidden behind their curtain of hair. + +"Say, kind o' fergotten--ain't yer?" he demanded. Then the woman's +perfectly fitting riding suit seemed to attract his attention. "Gee," +he exclaimed, "wher' you get that dandy rig?" But even as he spoke a +change in his expression came when he recognized the horse Elvine was +riding. Suddenly he raised one hand and smoothed the tangle of +moustache with a downward gesture. It was a gesture implying complete +lack of comprehension. "Well, I'm darned!" + +"You'll be more than that if you don't pass on to your work, whatever +that may be." + +The coldness of the woman's tone matched the light in her dark eyes. +Every ounce of her courage had been summoned to meet the situation. + +But the man displayed not the slightest regard for the threat. The +incredulity of his expression changed. And the change was subtle. It +was perfectly apparent, however, to the woman. And she nerved herself +for what was to come. An evil smile grew in the piercing black eyes, +as the man regarded the beauty which, with him, was a long stored up +memory. + +"Say, when d'you quit Orrville way?" he cried derisively. "Maybe you +hadn't a heap o' use for it when your man, Bob, got shot up. Maybe you +didn't need to stop around after you got your hands on the dollars I +guess he left lying around. Say, it beats hell meetin' you this way." + +But Elvine was no longer laboring under the shock of the encounter. +She had no longer any thought of the remoteness of the spot, or the +obviously brutish man with whom she was confronted. She set about +dealing with the situation with a desperate courage. "I don't know if +you're mad, or only--drunk," she said, with icy sharpness. "But you're +on my husband's land, and I suppose you work for him. What's your +name? I need to know it so I can tell him of your insolence. Jeffrey +Masters is not the man to allow his wife to be insulted with impunity +by one of his cattlemen. It will be my business to see to it that he +is told--everything. You were riding that way." She pointed the way +she had come. "I s'pose toward the ranch house. Let me pass!" + +She moved her horse as though to proceed. There was no sign of fear in +her. No haste. At that moment her dignity was superb. Every word she +had spoken had been calculated, and the sting she had conveyed with her +information had not been overdone. She looked for its effect, which +came with a dramatic change in the man's whole demeanor. His evil face +lost its smile, and, in a moment, he had bared his bristling head. But +even as Elvine beheld these things she understood the curious +expression which he seemed powerless to banish from his ferretty eyes. + +"You're Mrs. Masters, ma'am?" the fellow cried. "Say, ma'am, I'm just +kind o' knocked all of a mush. I hadn't a notion. I truly hadn't. +Guess I took you for a leddy I kind o' remember up Orrville way. An' +the likeness is jest that o' two beans. I'm beat, ma'am, beat sore. I +wouldn't have offered you insult for a farm. I'm sorry. I'd heerd the +boss's wife was around, but I didn't figger I----" Then he replaced +his hat, and made as though to pass on. But he remained where he was. +"Y'see, I was ridin' in about last night. We lost another bunch. On'y +ten cows and their calves, but I had to make a report." + +"Another raid?" + +In a moment the woman caught him up. And her attitude had taken on a +calculated change. + +The man observed her interest, and took prompt advantage of it. + +"Yep. An' things are lookin' pretty bad. This gang's jest workin' +how, an' when, an' wher' they fancy. If the boss 'ud on'y listen to me +he'd leave no stock around the outstations. It's devilish luck, ma'am, +that's what it is--devilish." + +Elvine remained lost in thought, and the man's narrow eyes never left +the profile she presented to him. When she turned to him again, +however, his whole attitude was one of bland humility. + +"You can ride back to your station," she declared, with perfect +authority. "I'll convey your report. What's your name? You didn't +give it me." + +"Sikkem. Sikkem Bruce. I'm out at Spruce Crossing, back ther' in the +hills. It's jest a piece. Mebbe three miles, wher' this stream makes +a joining with the Gophir Creek. Say----" + +"Well?" Elvine inquired as he paused. + +"You ain't makin' no complaint to the boss, ma'am? It was jest a darn +fool mistake of mine. It surely was. I ken see it was. I can't +figger how I mistook you fer the lady I was thinkin' of. Y'see, she +was no account anyway. She was jest one o' them vampire sorts who'd +sell her soul fer a price, yep, and sell any man's life that way, too. +Y'see, that's how I come to know her. She handed over a bunch o' guys, +scallawags, sure, who didn't need nothin' better, fer the price o' ten +thousand dollars. She corralled the information, an' drove her +weak-livered man to do the lousy work. I tell you, ma'am, a woman who +gits that low is pretty mean. You was sure right to figger on an +insult when I guessed you was that 'piece.' But I didn't mean it that +way, I sure didn't." + +The marble coldness of Elvine's face as she listened to the man's words +gave no indication of any feeling behind it. At the end, however, she +forced a smile to her lips. + +"You can forget it," she said. Then she added deliberately: "I shall +not inform my husband." + +"Thank you, ma'am. Then I guess I'll get right on back--if you'll +carry in the report. Y'see, we're huntin' the trail. That-a-way I'll +be able to join up with the boys." + +"Yes." + +The man hesitated as though waiting for her to depart first, but as she +made no movement, and offered no further word, he was forced to the +initiative. With an astonishing deference, which, perhaps, was even +too elaborate, he wheeled his horse about and rode off. + +Elvine watched him until he was swallowed up by the narrow pathway +between the bluffs, then she turned back and rode slowly homeward. + +But the face which was now turned down the river was no longer the face +which had confronted Sikkem Bruce. It was ghastly. It was the face of +a soul-tortured woman. + +"She was jest one of them vampire sorts who'd sell her soul fer a +price, yes, an' sell any man's life that way, too." + +The words, even the tones of the man's voice dinned in her brain, and +she knew that the legions of Fate had appeared upon a fresh horizon. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE CALL TO ORRVILLE + +The windows were wide open. Voices from within the parlor reached Nan. +She was waiting on the veranda. Waiting for the long council of +men-folk to reach its conclusion. She had elected to remain outside. +She knew that the future well-being of the Obar Ranch was being +considered by men whose sole regard that well-being was. And somehow +the woman in her demanded that in all the vital affairs of life it was +the will of the men-folk which should rule. + +But her self-denial was strained to breaking as the interminable +minutes grew, and, at last, she abandoned her principles to her woman's +curiosity, and slipped into the room. She knew well enough that none +of those present would resent her intrusion. And, anyway, it was hard +to stand by when her whole interest was absorbed in the decisions to be +arrived at. + +She passed round the room and took up a position on the arm of her +father's chair. No one spoke to her. Scarcely an eye turned in her +direction. And something of the impressiveness of it all caught the +girl's imagination. + +There was the dear familiar room with its simple furnishing, and its +poignant associations. It was part of her life. It was certainly part +of her father's and Jeff's. Then there was the warm sunlight pouring +in through the open windows. It lit the tanned, strong faces of the +men, and searched the weak spots in their toil-worn equipment. There +was not a weak face among them. And Nan felt comfort in the thought +that theirs was the decision. + +The face of Jay Pendick, their own headman, with its small, alert dark +eyes reflected the intentness of his mind. His capacity had been tried +over and over again in his long years of service. Then Lal Hobhouse, +the best-hated man on the countryside for his ruthless genius in +obtaining work from those under him, and the driving force of Jeff's +side of the partnership. Her father, wise and silent, except for his +heavy breathing. And lastly Jeff, full of a hard determination to beat +the game in which he was engaged. + +So keen was the interest of the gathering that Bud alone was smoking. +But then Bud regarded tobacco as a necessary adjunct to soundness of +judgment. + +He slipped an arm about Nan's waist as she took up her position at his +side. + +Jeff was seated at the centre table, a position strongly reminiscent to +the girl of a smaller gathering some four years back, when he had +occupied the position of leadership in the enterprise which had had +such successful results for them all. Jay was poised upon the edge of +a small chair which suggested immediate peril under his forceful and +scarcely elegant methods when discussing the doings of rustlers, and +imparting his opinion upon all and sundry of their class. Lal +disdained all parlor attitude. He was squatting against the edge of +the table without the least consideration for its somewhat trifling +powers of endurance. But Jeff was talking, and Nan's whole attention +was swiftly caught and held by the man whose words and actions were at +all times irresistible to her. + +He was talking slowly and clearly with that shadow of a drawl which was +his way when his decision was arrived at. + +"Say, it's as clear as don't matter we're up against an experienced and +organized proposition," he said. "I don't guess this is any kind of +scallawag outfit of toughs which just get around and duff a bunch, and +hit the trail for safety till the froth they've raised dies down again. +It's Orrville repeating itself." He paused thoughtfully. His eyes +were regarding the table before him. When he raised them again they +were full of a peculiar light which shone in Bud's direction. "Ther's +features in the game carry a parallel to that play, and I guess they +point the fact that the fellers of that gang who got away at their +round-up have got around this region now, and figure to carry on the +same play right here. You'll get that, Bud--sure." Bud nodded. +"Well, it's up to us," Jeff went on, as though the other's agreement +had left his course of action clear. "Maybe ther's States Marshalls +around, and a pretty bunch of deputies lying behind Sheriff Hank +Killick, but there never was an official gang these folk couldn't beat +a mile. Guess they're not duffing the private property of Hank +Killick, or any of his boys. We best get busy our own way, which is +the way Dug McFarlane took nearly five years to dream out." + +His blue eyes had grown colder and harder while he talked. There was a +bite, too, in the manner in which he referred to the doings in Orrville +of four years ago. There was a curious curl to his firm lips, which, +to Nan's mind, suggested a painful smile. And she disliked it. She +disliked his whole manner, which, just now, was none of the Jeff she +had always known. Bud read deeper. And that which he read carried him +back to an unforgettable scene in the Cathills, when a twin stood +gazing upon its other half, hanging by the neck dead under the shade of +a wide-spreading tree. + +"It's up to us to set up a reward, Bud," Jeff went on, in the same +passionless fashion. "A big reward. We've got to make it so some +amateur Judas is ready to sell his friends. It'll cost us a piece, but +it's the way to fix things. And anyway it's going to be worth it, +sure. I allow we'll need to hand out the story of reward good. It's +got to reach this gang itself. An' if I guess right, and there's +toughs from Orrville way running this lay-out, why, they aren't li'ble +to have forgotten what happened that time. We'll break the gang, +or--we'll get 'em." + +There was something unrelenting, and even vicious, in the manner in +which he gripped the pencil in his hand and dug the pointed lead and +crushed it against the surface of the table. Nan drew a deep sigh of +relief as he finished speaking, and turned gladly as her father removed +his pipe and cleared his throat. + +"An' the reward. How much?" he questioned. + +The answer flashed back at him like the slash of a knife. + +"Ten thousand dollars!" + +In that answer Jeff's voice was unrecognizable to Nan. His whole +expression, too, seemed to have undergone some subtle change. She sat +groping for the meaning of it all, and somehow regretted she had not +remained out on the veranda. + +Bud inclined his head and replaced his pipe in corner of his mouth. + +"It goes," he declared. Then he lumbered out of his chair. "That +all?" he inquired. And by his manner and tone Nan knew that he, too, +had been affected by the things which had troubled her. + +"Not quite." + +Jeff turned on his own foreman. He had lost none his intensity. + +"That reward goes," he said sharply. "Get the exact amount. Ten +thousand dollars. Not a cent more or less. Hand it out everywhere. +Meanwhile I'll see to it the notices are printed, and we'll have 'em +set up wherever the eyes of these scum are likely to get peeking +around." Then he emitted a sound like a laugh, but there was no mirth +in his eyes. Nor in his manner. "We'll locate the best trees for a +hanging, and we'll set 'em up there." + +Nan moved over to an open window as the two headmen took their +departure. Bud had taken up a position against the cold iron stove. +Jeff alone retained his seat, during the few silent moments which +followed. + +With the departure of the men, however, he looked up from a letter he +had withdrawn from his pocket. + +"Say, Bud," he said without emotion, "guess the Presidency of the +Western Union's going to claim me right away. I'll need to make +Orrville right off." + +"Orrville?" Bud's eyes were sharply scrutinizing. + +"Sure." Jeff's indifference was obviously assumed. Nan's questioning +eyes passed uncertainly from Jeff to her father. There was something +between these two she did not understand. Orrville? It was when he +had been speaking of Orrville all that intensity of bitterness had been +so apparent in Jeff. She received no enlightenment, however. + +"What's the play at--Orrville?" + +Bud's question had a suggestion of anxiety in it. + +Jeff rose from his chair. He passed one hand wearily across his brow +and smoothed back his lank fair hair. + +"Oh, it's just arbitration," he said. "The parties agree to take my +decision in some grazing rights instead of handing good dollars over to +the law. It's Dug. Dug McFarlane, and a feller called Peters. Peters +figgers he's got rights on Dug's land, and--well, Dug just guesses he +hasn't." + +"When are you starting?" Nan inquired, from her place at the window. + +"I'll need to get off early to-morrow." Jeff's eyes were on the girl. +The change in them had become pronounced. Warmth had replaced +frigidity, and the smile in them was real now. "It's tough on top of +my home-coming, eh, Nan? Maybe Evie'll feel lonesome too--when I tell +her. Still, these things are part of the game, and I can't weaken on +'em. It's these toughs around I'm worrying 'll scare her. I was kind +of wondering if you'd----" + +"You don't need to worry a thing." Nan's smile was full of a staunch +reassurance. And her readiness came with a spontaneity which had +nothing to do with Jeff's wife. It was the result of her delight and +pride in this man himself who was called upon, and looked to, for +leadership, in this little world of theirs. + +"You'll----" + +"I'll handle things here for you, Jeff." Nan gave him no chance to +make his appeal. "Elvine shall be as safe as we can make her. She can +come right over here till you get back, or I'll sleep at your place. +It shall be just as she feels. She shan't be lonesome, and I guess my +Daddy an' me we're equal to any crowd of rustlers." + +The genuineness, even enthusiasm of the girl was quite transparent. +Nor was the man insensible to it. For all his preoccupation he +realized something of his debt to these people, to Nan. It was a debt +he had never attempted to pay, and now its rapid mounting made even +ultimate payment seem doubtful. + +"You're pretty good to me, Nan," was all he trusted himself to say. + +Nan shook her head in smiling denial. + +"Women need to help each other in--these parts." + +But Jeff did not accept her excuse. + +"Maybe that's so," he said thoughtfully. "But it don't alter things a +little bit. I'd just like to feel I deserved it. But I don't and +can't feel that way. Some day----" He laughed and made a helpless +gesture. "But why talk? It's too easy, and it's mighty cheap anyway. +I----" + +But Nan was pointing out of the window. She welcomed a sudden +diversion. + +"It's Elvine coming right along over." Then, as Jeff craned forward: +"Say, she's a dandy horsewoman. Get a look at her. Gracious, she +might have been born in the saddle." + +But Jeff had not waited. He was out on the veranda to greet his wife +as she came. And just for one instant Nan caught a glimpse of the +light in his eyes which the sight of Elvine had conjured. All the +coldness she had witnessed that morning, all the merciless purpose, +even the simple friendliness he had displayed toward her. These were +gone. Their place had been taken by a light of passionate regard for +the woman who had yielded herself to him. For a moment it seemed as if +her own emotions must stifle her. But the next she was within the room +again, her eyes merrily dancing, talking to the parent she adored. + +"Say, you Daddy of mine," she said, almost boisterously, "haven't you +work to be done, the same as I have? Shame on you for dallying. Shame +on us both. Come right along, sir. Come right along at once." Then, +as he moved toward the window, "No, no, you dear blundering Daddy, not +that way! That's reserved. The back door for us, sure. Come along." + +And the great Bud permitted himself to be hustled from the room through +the kitchen way. + +Nan's effort was only partially successful. In a few moments the +fugitives were urgently recalled to hear the news of the disaster at +Spruce Crossing, which Elvine had brought with her. And during the +discussion which followed Nan was forced to stand by while the handsome +woman who had supplanted her occupied the centre of attention. + +Somehow the news which held the others, drawing forth hot condemnation +from Bud, and the bitter comment of Jeff, for once left Nan cold. +Somehow it seemed so small a thing compared with that other disaster +which was always with her. Her whole attention was held by Jeff and +his wife. Not a detail of expression or emotion, as the swift words +flowed between them, was lost upon her. And the exquisite pain of it +all was excruciating. + +The great love of the man was so apparent. There was a moment, even, +just as Jeff and Elvine were about to take their departure, when Nan +could have almost cried out. It had followed upon an expression of +Elvine's dislike and fear of the man who conveyed the news to her. + +Jeff took up her complaint in no half-hearted fashion, and, somehow, +the injustice of his attitude and his obvious thought for his wife +alone brought the girl's hot resentment very near the surface. + +"Yes," he said. "He's a tough, sure. I've kept him on because he's +one of the brightest cow-hands east of the mountains. But you're +right, Evie. And I can't stand for you being scared by the 'hands' on +my ranch. I'll have to get rid of him." Then, as he sat in the saddle +with Elvine on her pony at his side, he had taken in Nan and her father +in a smiling, comprehensive glance. "I guess Evie's some sport acting +the way she's done," he declared with a lover's pride. "I allow we owe +her a heap of thanks, eh, Bud?" + +Bud nodded. + +"We're mighty grateful, ma'am," he declared, heartily in his formal +way. "Guess we all thank you, sure." Then he turned to Jeff more +directly. "I'll get busy right away. That'll leave you free to get +right on doping out that reward notice this afternoon, an' generally +fixing things before you make the trail to-morrow morning." + +Then they had taken their departure. And with their going Nan hastily +returned to the parlor. + +Bud followed her almost on the instant. He had moved with incredible +swiftness, which is often the way of heavy men under stress of feeling. +Already the tears were gathering in the girl's eyes when his words fell +upon her ears. + +"Say, little gal," he said, with a deep note of sympathy in his +rumbling tones, "we're bein' hit up pretty bad since Jeff bro't her +back home. Maybe we're feelin' 'bout as foolish as we're lookin'. But +we're goin' to beat the game--sure, eh? We're goin' to beat it because +we're built that way, an'--we got the grit to do it." + + * * * * * * + +The horses were walking leisurely over the summer grass. The house was +less than two miles distant. There was no immediate hurry. Besides, +Elvine was reading the letter which Jeff had handed her in reply to her +inquiry as to the contemplated journey which Bud had mentioned. + +Jeff was observing her closely as she read. There were no doubts in +his mind. He was not even seeking the effect of the letter. He was +dwelling with a lover's delight upon the picture she made. + +Nor was his approval extravagant. Any one must have admitted the +justice of it. Nan had admitted it when she beheld her in a prairie +saddle, on a prairie pony, with only the wide wealth of grass-land for +her setting. Elvine in the saddle suggested a single identity between +horse and rider. Her riding suit was expensively simple, and cut as +only such suits can be cut. The figure beneath it was displayed to its +fullest advantage. There was no studied pose. Just the perfection of +horsemanship which demands an intimate freedom at all times. Then her +dark head under her carefully adjusted prairie hat. The shining masses +of hair, obvious in their wealth even under careful dressing. The +softly healthy cheeks, and the perfect profile as she pored over the +letter in her hand. + +Presently Elvine looked up. She did not turn at once to the husband at +her side. Her gaze was directed ahead. It ignored the scene of +undulating plain, and the distant ramparts of wooded hills. It saw +nothing but the images in her own brain, and the conjured thoughts of a +troubled heart and conscience. + +"You see it's important," Jeff said, with a feeling that the news in +the letter had caused disappointment. + +"I s'pose it is." + +There was a curious lack of interest in the woman manner. Her tone was +listless. + +"I'm afraid I'll have to go." The man felt he was apologizing, and it +seemed absurd that apology should be required. Then he reminded her. +"You see, these things come with my work as President. It's pretty +good if you think. Guess I'll only be from home one night." + +"You _must_ go--I s'pose?" + +The man's eyes widened. + +"Sure." + +"But it seems unfair you should be put to all this for nothing." + +Jeff shook his head. + +"Why, I don't guess it's any worry. Besides, it's an honor. You see, +Evie, I'm out all I know to set up a big position for you. And it's +these calls as President of the Western Union are going to fix things +the way I'd have them." + +His eyes had somehow become serious. There was even a lack of his +recent warmth in them. He had not expected any protest from his wife. +A shade of disappointment at his going perhaps. But that was all. + +"You're at the call of anybody around to settle disputes?" + +"Only where the interests of cattle-raising are affected." + +Elvine handed him back the letter. She did not turn to him. A curious +set to her lips warned Jeff that in some way his contemplated journey +was adversely affecting her. Nor was it merely the disappointment he +had been prepared for. He felt there was need to say more, though the +need of it was obscure. It had never been his way to appeal, but he +resigned himself to the reflection that his life had been entirely +changed by his marriage. He was no longer responsible only to himself. +With an effort he flung aside an inclination to resentment. + +"Say, Evie," he cried, "it's a bit tough on you having to leave you +even for a day just as we've got back to home. It's that way with me, +too. I just don't fancy going a small bit. But I daren't refuse Dug +McFarlane. He's one of the biggest men around, and I'll need all the +friends I can round up. There's another thing. I've got it back of my +mind later on to form a Trust amongst the growers, and Dug's a most +important concern in such a scheme. I'd be crazy to refuse. Why, I +just couldn't refuse anyway. You're going to help me, dear, aren't +you? I've talked to Bud and Nan, and fixed things so you won't be +lonesome. Nan's promised to sleep in the house with you, so you shan't +feel that way. Or you could go over to her. It's just one night, +that's all." + +It may have been his obvious sincerity, it may have been that the +woman's objections were really the result of disappointment only. At +any rate a distinct change came over her, and she turned to him with a +smile. + +"I'm just too selfish, Jeff," she cried. "But--but it did seem +hard--at first. Go? Of course you must go. And you're not to worry +about me. Nor is Nan. I wouldn't have her come over for me for +anything, and I'm not going to sleep out of my home, either. You +needn't be scared I'll be lonesome. I've got all this beautiful world +around me, and all your interests. And rustlers? Why, I'm not scared +of the worst rustlers living." + +A delighted sense of gratitude replaced Jeff's every other feeling. + +"Say," he cried, with a sudden vehemence, "you've good grit, Evie. +You're a bully soul. You're the sort would set a man crazy to corral +the world, and set it at your feet. I'll get right back quick. I +won't wait an hour more than I need." + +Elvine's decision had been forced upon her, but once having taken it +she threw something more into her words than the mere encouragement +that seemed necessary. + +"No," she declared, her eyes shining. "You're not even to hurry back. +Get right through with your work, or any schemes you have to arrange +while you're there, before you think of me." Then her voice softened +to a great tenderness. "I want you to win through in everything you +undertake, Jeff. I don't care now for a thing else in the world. You +do believe that, don't you? Oh, Jeff, I want you always to believe +that. Whatever may come in our life together, I want you always to +know I love you better--better than the whole world, and your--your +happiness is just my happiness. Without your happiness I can never be +happy. It was selfishness made me demur at first. You believe that, +don't you? I have always been very, very selfish. It was nothing +else. You don't think there was anything else, do you? I sort of feel +I'd always have you in my sight, near me. I'm happy then, because I +feel nothing can ever come between us. When you're away, I don't know, +but it sort of seems as if shadows grow up threatening me. I felt that +way this morning. I felt that way when I read your letter. But these +things just shan't be. I love you with all that's in me, and--you love +me. Nothing shall ever come between us. Say that's so, Jeff. +Nothing. Nothing." + +The man responded with all a lover's impetuosity. He gave her to the +full that reassurance of which she stood in need. But for all his +sincerity it was as useless as if it had been left unspoken. + +The letter from Dug McFarlane at Orrville, the recognition of her by +the man Sikkem Bruce, had warned Elvine that the sands of her time of +happiness were running out. She felt she knew that a gape of despair +was already yawning at her feet. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +DUG MCFARLANE + +The aroma of cigars blended delightfully with the fragrant evening air. +Through the cool green lacing of the creeper the sun poured the last of +its golden rays into the wide stoop. The mists were already gathering +upon the lower slopes of the hills, and a deep purpling seemed to be +steadily embracing the whole of the great mountain range. + +Two men were lounging comfortably in wide wicker chairs on the veranda. +They were resting bodies that rarely knew fatigue in the strenuous life +that was theirs. But then the day was closing, and one of them had +come a long saddle journey. Whisky stood on a table at the elbow of +Dug McFarlane. Jeffrey Masters had coffee near by. + +Outside the veranda a smudge fire in a bucket was doing battle with +attacking mosquitoes, while its thin spiral of smoke served as a screen +upon the still air to shut out the view of the disheveled township of +Orrville. + +Dug McFarlane, opulent, of middle life and massive proportions, was in +strong contrast to his guest. The American-Scot was something of a +product of the soil. He was of the type which forces its way up from +the smallest of small beginnings, a type which decides early upon a +career in life, and which deviates not one step from the set course. +He was a man of one idea--cattle. + +He knew nothing beyond--cattle. Cattle was the sum and substance of +his celibate life. He was an old type of ranchman whose waking hours +were devoted to a physical labor which left no room for anything else. +But Jeff knew that for all his roughness of manner and speech, a +roughness which left his own partner, Bud, a man of education and +refinement beside him, he counted his wealth, as he, Jeff, could only +hope to count his in the distant years to come. + +Jeff was his guest for the night, and the dispute upon which he was to +arbitrate was to be settled upon the arrival of the man Peters. And +while they waited they talked of the thing which was their mutual +interest. The land and its produce, whether animal or vegetable, was +their beginning and end. They discussed every prospect from the +overwhelming competition of the Argentine, to the rapid transformation +of grazing pastures into golden wheat fields. Their interest seemed +endless, and it seemed only to require the non-appearance of Peters for +their talk to continue until sleep overtook them. + +But the break came in the flow of their "shop" at the mention of the +name of Peters. Jeff was curious to hear about him. + +"Who is this Peters, anyway?" he demanded. "He's not down in the stock +register, and nobody seems to have found him except you." + +Dug's reply came with a great laugh. His very bright gray eyes were +full of a good humor beneath his pronounced black brows. + +"Peters? Why, I guess Peters 'ud make a funeral procession laff. +You've never seen him? You don't know him? No. Sure you wouldn't. +Nor you wouldn't find him registered. Y'see, they don't register mixed +farm stock. Anyways, he got me laffin' all the time. But he's +bright--oh, yep, he's bright, sure. He's a little feller. To git him +right you need to think of a buck louse with a think-box developed +abnormal. He's a great amusin' little cuss when you see him on his +patch of land. You'd think he was runnin' a cirkis he's so busy fixin' +things wrong. I'd like him fine if it wa'an't fer his habits. I can't +stand the feller who eats the top of his fingers raw, an' sings hymns +o' Sunday in a voice that never oughter been handed out to anything +livin' that hadn't the sense to choke itself at birth." + +"Is that the reason of the dispute?" Jeff asked with smile. + +Dug grinned and shook his head. + +"No, siree," he cried. "It ain't a thing to do with it. But I guess +we'll keep clear of the dispute till he gets around. Y'see, this +arbitration game needs to be played good. I'd hate to get ahead of the +little cuss by settin' out my case in private. Nope. I hain't got a +thing agin that grasshopper. Not a thing, and I jest need to get this +thing straightened right, even if it goes agin me. That's why we fixed +on appealin' to you rather than the law. Y'see, I could buy up a +decision at law, which Peters knows, so we decided on the right +judgment of a straight feller. Say, what in----!" + +Dug sprang from his chair with a forcible oath. Jeff, too, was on his +feet. There was a frantic clatter beyond the screen of creeper. A +string of hoarse invective in a human voice. The hammering of horses' +hoofs and the sound of tin being battered in a wanton riot. Dug broke +into a great laugh as he thrust his head out. + +"Well, I be----!" he cried. + +Jeff joined in his laugh. An absurdly small man was clinging +desperately to the saddle of an absurdly large horse, which was rearing +and plunging in a wild effort to shed its rider and bolt from the +neighborhood of the overturned smudge-fire bucket. + +What a wealth of terror reigned. The gray-headed little man's face +matched the hue of his hair. His short arms were grabbing frantically +at his horse's neck. His eyes were full of a piteous appeal, and his +savage-looking spurs were firmly grappling his steed's flanks. The +wretched horse was shaking in every limb. Its eyes were bulging, and +the fierce snorts of his gushing nostrils had the force of escaping +steam. + +Before any assistance could be offered by the onlookers the climax was +reached and passed. Elias Peters rolled slowly out of the saddle and +reached the ground with a heavy flop. Then, while its recent burden +gathered himself up, quite unhurt and smiling amiably in relief, the +horse contentedly mouched off toward a patch of inviting grass. + +"Guess I'm kind o' late, Mr. McFarlane," Elias apologized. "An' it +seems I've bust up your fire-bucket some," he added ruefully. Then +with cheery optimism: "It was hustling to get here. I didn't jest see +it. Still, I got around." + +"You sure have," grinned Dug. Then he indicated his companion. "This +is Mr. Jeffrey Masters, President of the Western Union. If you'll come +right along in we ken get things fixed up. Meanwhiles I'll jest have a +'hand' round-up your plug an' feed him hay." + + * * * * * * + +Another chair was brought from the house and Elias Peters was ensconced +therein. He was a gray little man. Gray from head to foot, it seemed. +His hair, his eyes, his skin, his whiskers, his shirt, his loose jacket +over it, his trousers. Even the top-boots he wore, which, had +doubtless once been black. Everything about him was gray. + +Dug pressed whisky on him. + +"Take your time," he had said, in his easy, cordial fashion. "Ther' +ain't no sort o' hurry. It's li'ble to shake a boy o' your years +foolin' around in the dust when you'd oughter be in the saddle." + +"That's just it, Mr. McFarlane," came the prompt, distressed complaint. +"What in the nature o' blamed things made me act that way?" + +"Jest the--nature o' things, I guess." + +The little man's eyes twinkled. + +"Guess you mean ther's folks who ain't in their right element in the +saddle, an'--I'm one of 'em." Then he turned on Jeff, whose whole +interest had been quite absorbed in a personality which Dug had +described as being reminiscent of a "buck louse." "Say, Mr. Masters, +guess you ain't never tried any stunt like raisin' kebbiges on a hog +ranch? No, sure you ain't. Ther's jest one feller runnin' loose on +this planet 'ud act that way, an' that's me. Guess I bin doin' it all +my life," he added, thoughtfully chewing a forefinger. "I was built +for, an' raised in a fifth rate city, an' I got the ideas an' ambitions +of the President of a Republic. Ther' ain't a blamed thing I can't do +but I want to do. An' the worst of it is ther's a sort o' restless +spirit in me jest sets me so crazy to do it I can't resist makin' the +jump. That's how I come to buy up a bum homestead up toward the hills +here, an' got the notion I could make a pile runnin' a mixed farm that +way. That's how I come to get outside a hoss when I'd be safer inside. +That's how I come to--'break' a deal more prairie land than I could +ever sow or harvest. That's how I bought machinery for a thousand acre +farm when I'd only got a half a mile. That's how I come to run a bunch +of cows without settin' up fencin' around my crops. That's how I bo't +the whole blamed lay-out without verifyin' the darned law feller's +statement I'd got grazin' rights on Mr. McFarlane's grass--which is the +thing I came right here to yarn about when I got mixed up with that +unnatural hell, which I've learned since was only set up to amuse the +skitters. Kind o' makes me feel if I was to set fer my pictur' I'd +sure come out a shipwreck at sea, or some other darn fool kind of +unpleasantness." + +Jeff was forced to echo the laugh which Dug indulged in without +restraint. It seemed cruel in face of the strange little man's serious +distress. But its only effect upon him was to produce an inquiring +glance of profound but unresentful astonishment. + +"Guess I must 'a' said something," he protested mildly. "Seems to me I +most generly do, with Mr. McFarlane around." Then he smiled in his +wintry fashion, which was quite powerless to add warmth to his curious +aspect of grayness. "Guess he must ha' been born laffin'--p'raps," he +added thoughtfully. "It's a dandy thing bein' born laffin'. I don't +reckon I ever got that luck. It's more likely my moma got lost in a +fog the day I was born. Can't account noways fer things otherwise." + +Dug pushed the whisky bottle at him as a set-off to his own +uncontrolled mirth, and in a few moments contrived to subdue his +paroxysms sufficiently to start the business in hand. + +"Now, Masters," he said, as soon as the diminutive Elias had ministered +adequately to his glass, "we've got a curious proposition to set before +you. It's jest one of them things which crops up in a country like +this, where a whole heap o' the laws happens along through custom. An' +like all sech customs, ther's li'ble to be a tarnation lot of friction +lyin' around if we can't get a right settlement. Now, if we go to the +courts it's goin' to be a mighty big scrap, eatin' up a hell of a pile +of dollars. An' if you're wise to the ways of the law fellers you ken +just about figger the verdict is goin' to come along to the feller with +the biggest wad. In this case I guess I'm the feller with the biggest +wad. Now, ther's no sort o' bad blood between Peters an' me, 'cep' it +is he will sing hymns outrageous on a Sunday. Still, I ain't goin' to +let that cut no ice. I'm out for a square decision between us by a +feller that don't know the meanin' of graft. I don't care a cuss who +gets it. But I ain't goin' to be bluffed by any fancy legal readings +of a position by city lawyers who don't know the north end of a steer +goin' south from the cluckin' proposition of a blind hen motherin' a +litter o' dormice. Peters here'll give you his case, seein' he's +plaintiff, in an elegant flow of warm air, an' when he's through I'll +sort of hand you a counterblast. An' when we finished you'll hand out +your dope on the subject, that is if we ain't talked you into a home +for incurable arbitrators. You'll get busy right away, Peters." + +The rancher's manner was irresistible in its breezy frankness and +generosity. Jeff wondered at him. Any man of modern business methods, +he felt, would have jumped at the advantage which his wealth would have +given him in the law courts over so insignificant a person as Elias +Peters. The whole situation inspired in him the feeling that he was in +the presence of a really big man. A man who deserved every fraction of +his success. + +Nor was there any doubt as to the little gray man's feelings as he took +a drink of whisky, and fixed his small eyes upon the weather and +years-lined features of his adversary. + +"Guess you've made me feel 'bout as big as an under-fed skitter," he +complained. "You make me sort o' feel I want to tell you to keep your +darn grazin' rights till I ken hand you a bunch of bills such as I'd +like to pass on to an honest man. But I don't guess I'm goin' to do +it. Y'see, I just can't afford it. If I can't graze my stock on your +grass they got to starve, or I got to get out. An', seein' I doped all +my wad into this lay-out, it 'ud well-nigh mean ruin to act that way." + +Then he turned to Jeff, who was almost bewildered at the curious +attitude toward each other of these men. + +"Now, I ain't got a fancy yarn to hand you," he went on, fumbling in +his pockets. "I jest got my papers, here, as I got 'em from the law +fellers. You best take 'em, an' after we done get a look into 'em." +He passed them across. "Now these are the fac's of how I bo't, why I +bo't, an' who I bo't from. The place is a haf section, an' they asked +five thousand odd dollars for it. It was a bum sort o' homestead, an' +belonged to a widder woman who'd got her man shot up by some rustlers +workin' around this country. They went by the name of Whitstone, but +their real name, by them papers, was Van Blooren----" + +"What name?" Jeff's voice broke sharply in upon the little man. + +"Van Blooren." + +"Go on." + +Jeff's eyes were gazing out through the lacing of creeper. He was no +longer regarding the man's unemotional gray features. + +"Wal, the place wa'an't worth the five thousand, 'cep' fer one clause +in them papers. This widder woman owned a right to graze up to two +hundred head o' stock on Mr. McFarlane's range. There was no mention +o' lease, nor nothin' to talk of payin' fer it. The right was in the +deed of sale, clear an' unquestioned. You'll see it right there in +them papers. Wal, I'm runnin' a hundred of stock, and the half section +is under cultivation. Now, Mr. McFarlane comes on me with the news +that this widder woman had no such rights to sell, an' that she and her +man were only allowed to graze their stock on his grass to help them +out. He's acted white over it so far, an' ain't taken no sort of +action. He's jest let my fool cows an' their calves run around chewin' +till their jaws is tired, which is a white way of seein' things. All +he's handed me is that I ain't got no right, an' the thing stands +pending your decision. He says the whole proposition is jest business. +He's got to safeguard the values of his property. Now, sir, I claim +them rights by right of that deed, an' if ther's any case it's between +that Van Blooren widder an' Mr. McFarlane. You got my papers, +an'--wal, how d'you guess I stand?" + +The little man's eyes were anxious as he made his final appeal. But no +satisfaction was forthcoming at the moment. Jeff's head was bent over +the papers he had been handed. His eyes were hidden. He seemed wholly +engrossed upon the various clauses in the deed. Finally he spoke +without looking up. + +"There's no deed granting grazing rights executed by Mr. McFarlane +here," he said. + +Before Peters could reply, Dug broke in. + +"Ther' never was one made," he said easily. "I don't guess you'll find +it ther'--'less you use trick eyes. Here--say, Peters has given you +his story right. I ain't no kick comin' to a word of it. But this +thing has more sides to it than you'd fancy. Now, I don't just care a +cuss Peters' grazin' two hundred, or five hundred head of stock on my +pastures. But if Peters bo't rights an' ken prove it, why, he's the +right to sell 'em on to any feller who comes along, which kind o' turns +my ranch into common land. Nothin' doin'. No, siree!" + +Jeff had abandoned his search of the papers. Nor was he regarding +either of the men. His eyes were directed through the lacing of +creeper, his gaze concentrated upon the purple vista of the hills. His +brows were depressed with profound thought. Nor were the blue depths +of his eyes easy. Peters' whole attention was upon the rancher. + +"Now, see right here, Masters," Dug went on, after a deeply considering +pause. "I got a story to tell you I'd have liked to hold up, an' the +reason I hate handin' it you is jest a sort o' fool sense of honor. +Howsum, when folks git gay I can't see you're right to hold your hand. +Now, them rights are sold by the law fellers of that widder woman, an', +I guess, actin' under her instructions. Now, she knows she don't own +no rights to sell. Wal, I allow she's on the crook." + +"Crook?" Jeff's interrogation came swiftly, in a harsh voice utterly +unlike his own. Then his eyes came round to the face of the rancher. +There was something deadly in the steadiness of their regard. "This +widow," he said. "Her name is Van Blooren. What is her first name, +and the first name of her--husband?" + +Before Dug could reply Peters pointed at the deeds of sale. + +"Guess her full name's writ ther'," he said. "Elvine van Blooren. +Sort of queer name, ain't it? It sort o' hit me that way when I first +see it. Kind o' good name fer a--crook." + +Jeff's eyes dropped to the papers again as Dug gave the other +information required. + +"The man's name was Robert--Bob. Called hisself when he was here. +Y'see, his paw was some swell guy who guessed his son had made some +darn fool marriage. An' I allow he was wise. Howbe, their names an' +sech don't cut no ice." + +"No." + +Jeff's monosyllable brought Dug's gaze swiftly in his direction. The +next moment they were looking squarely into each other's eyes, and, as +far as Jeff was concerned, Peters was entirely forgotten. + +"Will you tell me all you know of--this woman?" Jeff said, after a +moment. "I guess it'll be necessary--before we're through." + +"Sure. That's how I figgered." A momentary tension seemed to have +been relaxed. Dug once more settled himself at his ease. + +"'Tain't a pretty yarn, when you come to think," he said, his brows +contracting under his feelings. "Men are jest men, an' I guess you +don't generly expect more'n a stink from a skunk. But with women it's +diff'rent. When a feller thinks of women, he thinks of his mother, or +sweetheart, or his wife. An' when he thinks that way, why, I don't +guess he figgers to find bad wher' he reckoned ther' was only good. +Howsum, it kind o' seems to me human nature's as li'ble to set a feller +cryin' as laffin' most times. This thing come over that Lightfoot +gang. We got most of 'em, and those we got if they wa'an't pumped full +of lead out of hand they was hanged. Sort o' queer, too, the way we +got 'em. I'd set up a reward. Ten thousand dollars. It was right out +o' my own bank roll. Wal, I set it up--the notice o' reward--one +night, an' next day got the news we was all yearnin' for. Bob +Whitstone, as he called himself, brought it right along to me. I +hadn't no use fer the feller up to then. He was weak-kneed. And, in a +way, had fallen fer Ju Penrose's rye. He'd come to me once before on +the subject o' these all-fired grazin' rights. Y'see, he'd been tryin' +to git ahead raisin' wheat in a country where ther' was only a market +fer cattle an' rye whisky. Anyway, he cut most o' the wheat racket, +an' guessed he'd travel the same road as other folks, an' asked me for +permission to graze. I was kind o' sorry about him, an' his +good-lookin' wife--both city-raised folk--an' I did as he ast. I said +he could graze up to two hundred head. Git a line on that. Them +rights was verbal between him an' me to help him out. Ther' wa'an't no +sort o' deed, an' he knew it wa'an't no saleable proposition. Wal, +when he come along in with his news I set him right through it, an' I +allow, before I quit him, I got the notion that fer all his addled ways +there was a heap to him I hadn't guessed. He started by sayin' he'd +located the rustlers, got their camp set in the hills, an' could hand +over the whole blamed bunch right away quick. That was elegant. But I +ast him how it come he'd on'y located 'em twelve hours after I'd set up +a ten thousand dollar reward. Y'see, they'd been rustlin' around fi' +years. Wal, to cut a long yarn, I got the whole thing out of him in +quick time--he was like a kid in my hands. He hadn't located that +camp, he wasn't goin' to touch a cent of them ten thousand. He called +it 'blood money,' an' cussed it good an' plenty with an elegant flow. +It was his wife. Yes, siree, it was the woman driving the man. She'd +located them rustlers by chance only the day before, while he was +around Ju's place sousin' rye. When he got home an told her of the +reward, she was nigh crazy to git her hands on the dollars. Seems to +me ther' must have been a mighty scrap-up. I guess she told him of his +ways, an' what he'd brought her to--in a way some women-folk can. I +didn't git it all clear. Y'see, he did his best to screen her. +Anyways, she made him promise to fix things so she touched those +dollars. An' that's why he come to me. Ther's jest one thing stuck in +my head so I can't lose it. It was his last words to me about it. He +says, says he, see here, Mr. McFarlane, I need one favor out o' you. I +want to go with you on this racket, an' if ther's any mercy in the God +of Heaven, he'll let me get my dose when the shootin' starts. +Effie--that's how he called his wife--wants them dollars, an' you'll +see she gets 'em. But for me I just couldn't ever live around a woman +who'd handled that blood money! He didn't use them words. They're +mine. But it's 'bout how he put it. Wal, when the play was over he'd +had his wish. He was dropped plumb in his tracks. Then I handed his +widder the dollars. She ain't around these parts now so it don't +matter handin' you the story of it. Maybe she's married agin. She was +some picture woman. But anyway I'd say right here, the woman who could +take the price of men's lives would be low enough to bluff a boy like +Peters here out of his stock of dollars on a play like these rights. +An' that's why I reckon this thing's been done on the crook." + +He reached round for his glass and took a deep drink in the silence +that followed his story. Then, as neither the man who was to +arbitrate, nor Peters, attempted to break it, he went on: + +"Guess a reward's jest a reward, an' you can't kick at the feller who +comes along an' grabs a holt on it. But when a woman, young, a +good-looker, an' eddicated, an' refined, gits grabbin', why, it makes +you see sulphur an' brimstone, an' horns an' hoofs when your thoughts +are full o' buzzin' white wings an' harps, an' halos an' things. Git +me? I guess stealin' dollars out o' a citizen's pocket-book wouldn't +be a circumstance to a female of that nature. Say, I ain't got rid o' +the stink of it yet, though it happened four years ago." + +The man's contempt and loathing were intense. He had offered the +reward, paid it, he had led the Vigilantes in the hanging. But these +things were simply part of the justice of man as he saw it, and rightly +administered. + +The silent moments slipped by. Jeffrey Masters was sitting erect in +his chair. A marble coldness seemed to have settled itself upon his +keen face. Peters was waiting for that decision he desired. Dug +McFarlane, with more understanding, realized that something was wrong. +He, too, remained silent, however. + +At last Jeff stirred. His gaze shifted. It turned half vaguely upon +the little man Peters. Then it seemed to drift unmeaningly toward the +rancher. A moment later it fell upon the papers he was so tightly +gripping. It was then that realization seemed to come upon him. He +reached out and handed the deeds to their owner. A moment later he was +on his feet, and had moved across to the front of the veranda, where he +stood, slim, erect, and with his back turned upon the others. + +He cleared his throat and spoke in a steady voice. + +"I can only hand you a decision on the intention as apart from the +legal aspect of the case," he said judicially. "It's clear to me no +saleable rights were given. There was no transaction over them. The +widow of this man had no rights to sell. If disinterested advice is +acceptable I should urge this. It's in view, I guess, of McFarlane's +expressed indifference to Peters' cattle grazing on his land. Let +Peters acknowledge he has no rights. Then let McFarlane enter into an +agreement that Peters can run his stock on his land, the right being +non-transferable. I should put the whole thing in writing." + +"An' a darn good an' honest decision, too," cried Dug heartily. + +The shadow of a beatific smile passed over Peters' small features. + +"Bully!" he murmured. Then he added: "But I sort o' feel we both +oughter set the law on that--she devil." + +Jeff turned abruptly. His movement was almost electrical. + +"I shouldn't," he said sharply. + +Dug caught a glimpse of the desperate light in his eyes. + +"Why not?" There was a dash of resentment in Peters' tone. + +But Jeff was spared a reply. Dug anticipated him with an oath. + +"Gol darn you, because she's--a woman!" he cried, with a fierce warmth. +"Hell take it you ken have your rights. That's enough, I guess. I'll +have the papers wrote, an' have you sign 'em to-morrow. Meanwhile I'm +sick to death of the whole blamed thing. I quit right here." + +His intention was plain enough. He meant there should be no +misunderstanding it. And the little man, Peters, took his dismissal +without demur. + +The moment Peters had safely negotiated the saddle and vanished in a +cloud of dust, Dug pressed the whisky bottle upon his guest. Jeff +almost mechanically accepted it. He gulped down a stiff drink of neat +spirit. Dug watched him. + +"Guess you're feelin' pretty darn saddle weary," he said kindly. + +Jeff flung himself into his chair without replying. + +Dug returned to his seat and gazed out at the yellow and purple +afterglow of sunset. + +"Say, maybe you'd feel like handin' me the reason you wouldn't set the +law on to that--woman?" he went on presently. + +The question was by no means idle. It was inspired by the man's +genuinely kindly nature. Somehow, he felt that he had been responsible +for that which he had seen, still saw, in this man's eyes. + +But he was wholly unprepared for the reply forthcoming. It came +promptly. Each word came distinctly, deliberately, in a voice of +bitter coldness. The tragedy of it left the rancher speechless. + +"Because I married Elvine van Blooren just over six weeks ago." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE RETURN HOME + +A long day of anxiety and fevered apprehension merged into a night of +terror. It was the outcome of a conviction that was irresistible. The +shadow of disaster was marching hard upon her heels. Nor had she the +power to avoid it. + +As night came on Elvine remained alone in her twilit bedroom. She had +no desire to come into contact with the servants, she had no desire for +human companionship of any sort. So, with the fading light, she betook +herself to the bedroom. + +But there was no relief. It was haunted to-night, teeming with the +fancies of a dreading imagination. It seemed to her like the cell of a +condemned prisoner. + +The day had passed heavily, drearily. Every moment of it had been +filled with the thought that Jeff was on his way to Orrville. On his +way to meet Dug McFarlane. On his way to meet the one man in whose +hands her whole fate lay. He alone knew the source of the ten thousand +dollars which she had carried back to her paternal home as the net +result of her first marriage. He alone knew it to be the price of the +blood of men, amongst whom was the twin brother of her present husband. + +Memory was alive, and full of a poignant torture. It brought back to +her the scene when she had driven her first husband to help her to the +money she had desired to possess. He had spoken, in his horror and +anger, of "blood money," of "Judas," and she would not hear. She had +derided him, she had lashed him with the scorn of an unbridled tongue, +she had turned upon him in her selfish craving, without a thought of +any principle. + +Now she understood what she had done, but she only understood because +of the threat which overshadowed her. It was no spiritual awakening. +It was again the self in her, threatened in its desires as a result of +her earlier wanton actions. Her motives, even the picture of the +carnage in that hidden valley, which came back to her unbidden, had no +power to add to the hopelessness of her feelings. Every emotion was +wrapped in the thought that she was about to be robbed of all the +fruits of the one great passion of her life. + +She had one desire now, one motive in life only. It was the man she +had married. The man she had designed to marry for the station and +wealth he could offer her, and who had almost instantly become the +centre of her whole life. Nothing of any worldly consideration counted +any longer. There was nothing could interest her of which he did not +occupy the centre of the focus. Self dominated still, but it was a +more human type of self, which had, perhaps, some rightful claim on +human sympathy. + +The shadows grew, and the wide airy room was filled with a hundred +added terrors which claimed reality in the troubled brain. The silence +of the world about her became a threat. The darkening of the cloudless +sky beyond the open window. She sat on, refusing to invoke the aid of +lamp-light to banish the gathering legions of her dread. She knew it +was impossible to banish them. + +Oh, she had no physical fear of the world about her. What was there to +fear? Did she not know it all? Had she not lived it all before? The +two wide open windows invited her. She moved to one of them, and drew +a chair so that she could rest upon the sill and gaze out into the +space so perfectly jeweled. And the cool night air fanned her cheeks, +and seemed to relieve the fever that was raging behind her hot eyes. + +The morrow. There was no other concern with her now but--the morrow. +To-morrow Jeff would return. To-morrow she would know the worst, she +would know if the purpose of Fate were for or against her. Oh, that +to-morrow! And in the meantime there were interminable hours of +darkness to endure, when sleep was impossible. And after that the +daylight, when she must fear every eye that was turned in her +direction, when every moment brought nearer the possibility of the end +for her of all things in the world which mattered. + +The night wore on. Midnight came and passed. She had not moved again. +Her straining eyes had watched the starry groups as they set beyond the +horizon. There was no moon to create shadows upon the wide, rolling +pasture before her. Everything was in shadow, just as her every +thought was similarly enwrapped. There was no relief anywhere. + +Once she heard a sound that set her jarred nerves hammering. It was a +distant sound, and, to her fancy, it was the rapid beat of horse's +hoofs sweeping across the wide valley. But it died out. She had been +caught by the thought of the possibility of her husband's return, +suddenly, in the night. She pictured for one brief instant the +headlong race of the man to charge her with the crime of his brother's +life. + +She saw that keen, stern face with its cold blue eyes and the grimly +tightened lips. She had seen some such expression there before, and +she knew there were depths within his soul which she had never probed, +and hoped that she might never have to probe. + +It was the mystery of these unknown depths which had inspired her +passion. It was because of that cognizance of something unusual, +profound, in his personality that he had first become so completely +desirable. Then as she grew to know him, so she found she knew him +less, and desired to know him more. Her love and worship of him was of +the primitive. It was such as is the love of all women when inspired +by an emotion not untouched by fear. + +So, when the sounds of hoof-beats broke the night silence, she became +panic-stricken, because such a return, at such an hour, could have but +one meaning. + +Then the sounds passed, and her nerves steadied, and presently a +stirring night breeze rustled the lank grass. It came over the plain +toward her. It reached her window and fanned her cheeks with its chill +breath. Then it passed, sighing round an angle of the house. Then, in +its wake, came the plaintive dole of a scavenging coyote. The +combination, to her fancy, was an echo of her feelings. It was the +sigh of despair, and the cry of a lost soul. + +Presently the drowse of utter weariness descended upon her. The dread +of thought remained heavily overshadowing, but a certain distortion +displayed the reaching of limits beyond which human power could not go, +even in suffering. It was a merciful nature asserting itself. Her +eyes closed, slowly, gently, with a drowsy helplessness. Once her +elbow slipped from the sill of the window and awoke her. A somnolent +thought that she would go to bed passed dully through her mind. But +she did not act upon it. She propped her head upon her hand once more, +and, in a moment, everything was forgotten. + +She awoke with a start. There was no drowse in her wakefulness now. +Her eyes were wide, and her thoughts alert. The sensation of a blow, a +light, unforceful blow was still tingling through her nerves. The +blow, it seemed, had fallen upon her forehead, and she thrust a hand up +mechanically to the spot. But the action yielded her no enlightenment. +There was no pain, no sign. + +She peered through the open window and realized that the moon had +risen. She stared at it, and presently it occurred to her that she +must have slept, and, by the position of the moon above the horizon, +for at least an hour. + +Then her thoughts returned to the blow which had awakened her, and the +conclusion followed that it must have been the result of the half-blind +flight of one of those great winged beetles. + +She closed the window abruptly. She closed the second one. Then, +having drawn the curtains, she fumbled for the matches and lit the +candles upon her dressing bureau. It was her intention to search for +the intruding beetle, and then retire. + +But her search terminated abruptly. It terminated even as it began. +That which had struck her was lying almost at her feet upon the soft +rug on which she stood, and within a yard of where she had been +sitting. It was a piece of paper tied about a small ball of soil. + +She stared down at it for some startled moments. The effects of her +dread were still upon her, and they set up a sort of panic which made +her fearful of touching the missile. But it could not remain there +uninspected. There could be no thought of retiring without learning +the meaning of what lay there on the floor. + +Gingerly she stooped with a candle in her hand. She stooped lower, but +making no attempt to touch the thing which had disturbed her. The +candle revealed a folded sheet of white paper. A string bound it round +the rooted portion of a grass tuft. + +After a few moments she reached out and picked it up. The next moment +she was standing erect at her bureau, and with a pair of scissors she +severed the string and dropped the grass tuft to the floor. + +The paper was folded and thumb-marked by dirty hands. With shaking +fingers and tense nerves she deliberately unfolded it. + +It was a note, and she read it eagerly. + + +"You sold the lives of men for a price. You had it your way then. +We're goin' to have our way now. You'll pay for that deal the only way +we know." + + * * * * * * + +Elvine sat watching the scenes of the work of the range. The men were +returning from distant points making for the ranch house where their +evening meal was awaiting them at the bunkhouse. Teams were moving +toward the barns, and barn-hands were watering those which had already +returned. There was a general stir everywhere. Certain stock was +being corralled and hayed for the night. In the hay corral men were +busy cutting and hauling feed. There was no loneliness, no solitude. +The business of so great an enterprise as the Obar Ranch involved many +hands, and seemingly endless work. + +But Elvine watched these things without interest. In her present state +of mind they meant nothing to her, they could mean nothing. She was +waiting, waiting in a perfect fever for the home-coming of her husband. + +Strangely, too, she was not without a glimmer of hope. Somehow the +belief had taken possession of her that had Jeff learned anything of +her story he must have been home before this. It seemed to her that he +must have flung every consideration to the winds, and rushed in fevered +haste to denounce her as the murderess of his twin brother. + +The mysterious note which had been flung in through her open window had +left her sleepless for the rest of the night, but, even so, now, in the +broad light of day, it was only relatively alarming. The other terror +overwhelmed it. + +The sun was already tinting the hilltops with ruddy, golden hues. The +frigid snow-caps no longer wore their sheen of alabaster. There was a +golden radiance everywhere, a suggestion of a perfect peace, such as +the woman felt could never again find place in her heart. + +She turned her eyes from the splendor of the scene in silent protest. +The green of the wide-spreading valley, even the dark purple shadows of +the lower mountain slopes were better in harmony with her mood. But +even these she denied in her nervous irritation, and again, and yet +again, her searching gaze was flung out to the northwest along the +trail over which she knew her husband must come. + +The waiting seemed endless. And the woman's heart literally stood +still when at last she detected an infinitesimal flurry of dust away on +the far distance of the trail. A mad desire surged through her to flee +for hiding to those vast purple solitudes she knew to lie in the heart +of the hills. + +She remained where she was, however. She stirred not a muscle. She +was powerless to do so. What, what had the coming of the man for her? +It was the one absorbing question which occupied her whole brain and +soul. + +The dust flurry grew to a long trail in the wake of a horseman. In +five minutes he stood out ahead of it, clear to the eye. In ten his +identity was distinguishable. And, presently he rode swiftly at a +gallop past the ranch buildings and drew up before the house. + +The rack of that moment was superlative. The woman's hands clenched +and her finger nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms. There was +no greeting upon her lips. She only had power to stare; her wide +beautiful eyes were searching the face of the man she loved, searching +it as the criminal in the dock might search the face of the judge about +to pass sentence. + +Her tongue was ready for its release. Pent words lay deep in her soul +for an outpouring at the lightest sign. But these things were +dependent, dependent upon the reading she found in the man's eyes. + +The horse stood drooping at the termination of its effort. The man +sprang from the saddle. A barn-hand took the beast away to its stable. +Elvine's tongue remained almost cleaving to the roof of her mouth. + +The man's fair brows were depressed. His eyes were sternly cold. And +not once did they turn in her direction. He spoke in his usual tone to +the barn-hand. He issued his orders without a sign of emotion. + +Elvine could stand no more. She stirred. Then slowly she passed +within the house. + +Presently Jeff's step sounded on the veranda. It was quick. There was +nothing lagging in it. The woman gripped the back of a chair in the +living-room in which she had taken refuge. She was seeking support. + +The man entered the room. Nor did he remove his hat. He stood just +within the window opening, and his eyes, cold as the gleam of the +mountain glaciers, regarded her steadily. + +"I see you understand," he said. "You realized what must happen when I +visited Dug McFarlane in the matter of Peters, who bought your dead +husband's farm. You knew it when you read that letter I gave you. And +so you protested. So you assured me of--your regard." + +He came a step nearer. The movement was almost involuntary. + +"I have prayed to God that some day he might bring me face to face with +the person who sold my brother's life. He has granted me my prayer. +But it never entered my wildest dreams that it could be the woman I +married. I never questioned your past. To me it was sufficient that +you had taught me the meaning of love. To me you must be all you +seemed. No more, no less. God help me, I had no imagination to tell +me that so fair a body could contain so foul a heart. Were you not my +wife, were you a man, I should know how to deal with that which lies +between us. As it is you must thank the difference in our sex for that +which nothing else could have done for you. As yet I have not had the +time to arrange the details of our future. To-morrow, perhaps, things +will have cleared in my mind. I shall sleep to-night over at Bud's----" + +"Oh, Jeff, Jeff, have mercy. I----" + +"Mercy? Mercy?" A sudden fire blazed up where only a frigid light had +shone. The man's tones were alive with a fury of passion. "Did you +have mercy? Was there one merciful, womanly emotion in your cruel, +selfish heart when you sent those men, that man to his death for ten +thousand filthy dollars? Pray to God for mercy, not to me." + +A curious sullen light dawned in the woman's eyes. But even as it +dawned it faded with the man's movement to depart. + +"You--you won't leave me?" she pleaded. "Oh, Jeff, I love you so. +What I did was in ignorance, in cruel, selfish longing. I had been +reduced to the life of a drudge without hope, without even a house fit +for existence. I believed I had honest right. I believed even that my +act was a just one. Jeff, Jeff, don't leave me, don't drive me out of +your life. I cannot bear it. Anything, anything but that. My God, I +don't deserve it. I don't--true. Jeff--Jeff!" + +Her final appeal came as the man, without a word, passed through the +open window. She followed him in a desperate hope. But the hope was +vain. She saw him mount the fresh horse which had been brought round +and left at the tying post. + +As he turned the beast about to depart, just for one instant he looked +in her direction. + +"I will see you again in the morning. By that time I shall have +decided what is best for us both." + +He waited for no more. There was nothing to wait for. He lifted the +reins and his horse set off. The dust rose up and screened him from +view. + +Once more Elvine was standing on the veranda. Once more her gaze was +following the trail of rising dust. But there was no fever of suspense +in her beautiful eyes now. There were not even tears. The blow had +fallen. Fate had caught up with her. Its merciless onrush had +overwhelmed her. She was crushed. She was broken under its +sledge-hammer blow. She stood drooping, utterly, utterly broken and +spiritless before the man's swift, brief indictment and action. + +The end had come. Nor had it anything of the end she had visualized in +her dread. It was ten times more cruel than she had even dared to +dream. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AT BUD'S + +Supper was over when Jeff arrived. He came straight into the room +where the colored girl had just finished clearing the table. Nan was +returning a few odds and ends to their places. Bud had already lit his +evening pipe preparatory to settling down for the brief interim before +turning in for the night. + +There was no preamble. There was no sign of emotion, even at the +moment of his arrival. Jeff launched his request at father and +daughter in a voice such as he might have used in the most commonplace +of affairs. + +It was a request to be put up for the night. + +But both Bud and Nan were startled. Nan's cheeks paled, and +imagination gripped her. She said nothing. With Bud to be startled +was to instantly resort to verbal expression. + +"Wot's wrong?" he demanded. + +Then the storm broke. It broke almost immoderately before these two +who were the intimates of Jeff's life. All that had been withheld +before Dug McFarlane, all which he had refused to display before the +wife he had set up for his worship, Jeff had no scruples in laying +before these two. It was the sure token of the relations between them, +relations of perfect trust and sympathy. + +Bud sat gazing at the outward sign of the passionate fires he had +always known to lie smouldering in the depths of this man's soul. Nan +stood paralyzed before such violence. Both knew that hell was raging +under the storm of emotion. Both knew that the wounds inflicted upon +this man's strong heart were well-nigh mortal. + +The whole story was told, broken, disjointed. For the first time Nan +learned the result of the search for an erring twin brother, and her +horror was unbounded. A heart full of tenderness bled for the man +whose sufferings she was witnessing. The story of Elvine's own actions +filled her with revolting, yet with pity. It was not in her to condemn +easily. She felt that such acts were beyond her powers of judgment. + +The man's grief, his bitter, passionate resentment smote her beyond any +sufferings she had ever known herself. Elvine absorbed all the anger +she could bestow, but even so it was infinitesimal beside the harvest +of grief which the sight of this man's suffering yielded her. That was +the paramount emotion of the moment with her. That, and the injustice +she deemed to have been meted out to him. + +It was not until the great crescendo of the man's storm of grief had +passed that Nan bethought herself of the need in which he stood. Nor +was that need apparent until his whole note had changed to a moody +bitterness with which he regarded the future. Then she understood the +demon that was knocking at the door of his soul. + +Immediately her decision was taken. She left the two men together and +went to make the necessary preparations for this refugee's +accommodation. Curiously enough, these preparations were not complete +for nearly an hour, at the time, in fact, that it was her father's +habit to seek his bed. + +When she returned to the parlor the place was full of the reek of Bud's +tobacco, but it was only from the one pipe. Neither of the men were +talking when she entered the room, and her glance passed swiftly from +one to the other. + +She moved over to where Jeff was sitting with his back turned to her, +and stood behind his chair. + +"Everything's fixed for you, Jeff," she said. "But--but maybe you +don't feel like turning in yet. My Daddy usually goes at this time, +and--he's had a hard day." + +Bud looked across at her. His pipe was removed from his mouth for the +purpose of protest. But the protest remained unspoken in face of the +meaning he beheld in the girl's brown eyes. Instead he rose heavily +from his rocker. + +"Say, jest take your time, Jeff, boy," he said. "Guess you'll need to +think hard before mornin'. I don't guess it's your way to jump at +things. I ain't never see you jump yet. Anyway, when you're thinkin', +boy, it'll be best to remember that a woman's jest a woman, an' her +notions ain't allus our notions." + +Nan came over to him, and he rested one great arm about her shoulders, +and stooped and kissed her. + +"Good-night, little gal," he said. "Maybe Jeff'll excuse me. An' +maybe you ken tell him some o' them things that don't come easy to me. +So long, Jeff. I'll sure see you in the mornin' before you quit." + +He stood uncertainly for a moment with his arm upon Nan's shoulders. +He seemed to want to say more, and was at a loss how to say it. +Finally he stuck his pipe back into his mouth with a savage thrust and +lumbered heavily from the room. + +Nan understood. She knew he was laboring under profound emotion, and a +feeling of self-disgust at his own inability to help his partner and +friend. + +As the door closed she moved over to the table and leaned against it. +Jeff's back was toward her, and his face was turned in the direction of +the window, across which the curtains had not yet been drawn. + +He was leaning forward, his gaze intent and straight ahead out into the +black night beyond. His elbows were on his knees, and his hands were +clasped, and hanging between them. To the sympathetic heart of Nan +there was despair in every line of his attitude. She nerved herself to +carry out her decisions. + +"Jeff!" + +There was no movement in response. But a reply came. It was in the +tone of a man indifferent to everything but the thought teeming through +his brain. + +"Well?" + +"Why did you come around here--to-night?" + +The question achieved its purpose. The man abandoned his attitude in a +movement of fierce resentment. He swung round on the questioner, his +eyes hot with feeling. + +"Because I guess I need to sleep somewhere. Because nothing on earth +could make me share roof with the woman who's my wife. Gee, my wife! +Say, Nan, the thought of it nearly sets me crazy." + +"Does it? You didn't feel that way--two nights ago." + +The man's eyes met the girl's incredulously. + +"How can you talk that way?" he demanded roughly. "I didn't know a +thing then. I thought she was all she seemed. Maybe I was just a +blind fool, crazy with love. Anyway--I hadn't learned the hell lying +around her heart." + +"I s'pose there is hell lying around her heart?" + +Nan's words were provocative. Yet they were spoke in such a tone of +simplicity as to rob them of all apparent intent. + +Jeff was in no mood for patience. Swift resentment followed upon his +incredulous stare. + +"Do you need me to give it you all again?" he cried fiercely. "It +don't need savvee to grip things." Then his voice rose. "And to think +those dollars have fed her, and clothed her, a body as fair as an +angel's, and a heart as foul as hell." Then his tone dropped as if he +were afraid of the sound of his own voice. "Say, thank God I kept my +hands off her. If she'd been a man----" + +He left his sentence unfinished. In her mind Nan completed it. But +aloud she gave it another ending. + +"If she'd been a man I don't guess she'd have been there to have you +lay hands on her." + +There was a new note in the girl's tones. But it passed Jeff by. + +"No," he said with almost foolish seriousness. + +"Say, Jeff," the girl went on gently, a moment later, "aren't you +acting a teeny bit crazy over this? I mean talking of souls foul as +hell. And--an' not sharing the same roof with the woman you've sworn +to love, and--and cherish as long as you both live. She hasn't done a +thing wrong by you since you said--an' meant that. She hasn't done a +thing wrong anyway." + +The denial was so gentle yet so decided. Had there been heat in it it +must have been ineffective. As it was Jeff stared incredulously and +speechless, and the girl went on: + +"You think I'm wrong," she said. "Maybe you think I'm crazy, same as I +guess this thing's made you feel." She shook her head. "I'm +not--sure. Take us here. Maybe I'm chasing around through the hills. +Chance runs me plumb into the camp of these rustlers who're cutting +into your profits on the Obar. I come right in and hand you the story. +You and Bud round up a bunch of boys and I take you to where the camp's +hidden. You hold 'em up, and you hang them. Well, I guess the +pleasantest moment of that racket for you would be to get back to home +and hand me a bunch of dollars. Say, I can see you doing it. I can +see your smile. I can hear you sayin': 'Take 'em, little Nan, an' buy +yourself some swell fixing.' And say, Jeff, I wouldn't have done a +thing less than your Evie's done. That's how I'd say now, acting as +you are, you aren't the 'Honest Jeff' I've always known. You're not +fair to Evie, you aren't just--before God." + +The man made a gesture of fierce impatience. He seemed on the verge of +a furious outburst. But the steady light of Nan's eyes was upon him. +For some moments he gazed into their sweet depths, and their courage, +their steadfastness, seemed to abash him. He flung out his arms in a +helpless gesture of appeal. + +"Nan, Nan!" he cried, in a voice of hopelessness. "I can't argue it. +I just can't. I can't see things right. I sure nearly am crazed. The +only thing I can see is the blood of poor Ronny on her--her hands. The +hands I've held in mine. The hands I've kissed. Oh, was there ever so +foul----" + +"Yes, Jeff, there was. There is." + +Nan's voice was low but thrilling with deep feeling. She moved forward +from her place at the table with a little rush. The rustle of her +skirts only ceased as she fell upon her knees at the man's side, and +her warm brown hands clasped themselves upon the strong arm propped +upon his knee. + +"It's a far, far fouler thing, this thing you've got fixed in your mind +to do. Oh, Jeff, dear, if I could speak the things as I feel them. +But I can't. It's all inside me mussed up and maybe foolish. But, oh, +I know I'm right I want to tell you something, and I don't just know +how." + +Her eyes were gazing up into his, the soft brown eyes of the beautiful +soul within. She strove to compel his gaze, but it moodily withheld +its regard. + +"Jeff, you'll kill poor Evie. You'll break her heart by robbing her of +all you've brought into her life through your love. Say, can't you see +it all? And you'll do it for a shadow. Yes, it's a shadow, an ugly +shadow, this crazy thought of yours for a brother who was just a +low-down cattle rustler, same as these toughs you're making a bid of +ten thousand dollars to see hanged the same as he was. Think of it, +Jeff. She's just a woman, weak and helpless, and you're going to rob +her of all that makes her life worth while. Would you act that way by +a mother, or--or a sister? And she's your wife, Jeff, who's given you +all a loving woman has to give. I could tell you of the things this +means to you, and the schemes and plans you've sort of set your heart +on, but I don't need to. I just want you to see what you're doing by +her, and all the time she's done you no wrong. Do you get that, dear? +Evie's never done you a wrong, and in return you're going to do all you +know to kill her heart dead." + +"Done me no wrong?" There was a desperate sort of sneer in the words. +They were the words of a man who is robbed of denial but still protests. + +But Nan rejected even that. She swiftly flung it back in her sense of +the injustice of it. + +"It's as I said, Jeff. Just as I said," she declared solemnly. She +drew a deep breath. She was about to take a plunge which might bear +her she knew not whither. "Oh, I could get mad with you for that. I +could so, Jeff. I know the story of it. You've told it yourself, and +I don't guess you've spared her any. But you're blinding yourself +because you're crazy to do so. You're blinding yourself to all sense +of justice to defend a wretched scallawag who happened to be your +brother. Say, you're trying to fix on your wife, the woman who loves +you, and who you guess you love, all the dirt you should heap on the +worthless man who lived by theft, and maybe, even, was a murderer. +Say, don't speak. Not just a single word. Guess you can say all you +need when I'm through," she cried, as the man, with eyes ablaze, sought +to break in. "When I'm through I'll listen. Say, bring this right +home here. We're being robbed by cattle thieves. I don't guess +they're better or worse than your brother. What if he'd been one of +this gang? If you'd got this gang, with him in it? Would you've let +him go and hanged the others? Tell me. Tell me right here and now." + +The man sprang from his seat. He moved away to the window. + +"You're talking foolish," he flung over his shoulder. "It's not the +position. My brother's deserts aren't in question. It's Evie's act. +My wife's act. You're a woman and defend her. How could you be +expected to see a man's point of view?" + +"There can be no man's point of view in it," Nan cried warmly. "I +guess there's just one point. The point of right and justice. In +justice she's not done a thing to make you act this way. For your +sake, for hers, for the sake of justice you'll have to go back to her." + +The man swung round. + +"You'd have me go back to her?" he cried in fierce derision. "Say, +you're crazy! Go back to her feeling as I do?" + +"Feeling as you've no right to feel," Nan retorted swiftly. Then in a +flash her voice changed, dropping to a note of deep tenderness and +sympathy. "Say, Jeff, won't you go back? Won't you?" she pleaded. +"Think of all it means to her, to you. Think of a poor woman driven to +the depths of despair for a shadow you've nursed in your brain these +years. That's what it comes to. I know. Oh, Jeff, as sure as ther's +just a great big God above us you'll pay for it if you don't. You +surely will." + +The man shifted his gaze. The lids of his eyes drooped and hid from +the waiting girl all that passionate feeling he had not hesitated to +display. She wondered as she waited. She was fearful, too. + +In the man every sort of emotion was surging through him in a chaotic +tangle. Nothing seemed clear; anger, revolting, even hatred, all +fought for place. And through it all the pleading tones of the girl +would not be denied. + +After a moment he suddenly flung out his arms. + +"I--I just can't, Nan!" he cried desperately. + +A wave of relief swept through Nan's heart. He was yielding, and she +knew it. His manner had completely and abruptly changed. She drew +nearer to him. Every honest art of persuasion was in her tender +manner. All self was forgotten in that moment of spiritual purpose. + +"But you can--if you will," she said, her brown eyes uplifted to his. +"There isn't a thing you can't do--and you will. And this is so small, +Jeff. So small. Just think of that great big God somewhere up above +waiting, waiting to help you. He's always waiting to help us--any of +us. Ask Him. Ask His help. He'll give it you. He surely will. And +He can clear away all this dreadful feeling. It'll pass right away +easy. I know. He's done things for me. You just can't guess how +much. Say, Jeff, and when He's fixed you right, feeling that way, +He'll show you, and tell you more. He'll show you that Evie's act was +not hers, but--His. It was just His way of bringing Ronny's punishment +back to you. You see, Jeff, Ronny was part of you. You said so. And +oh, He's wiser than you an' me. And He figures this thing is best so. +It's a little Cross, such a teeny one, He's set you to bear, and if +you're the man I know and believe in, why, you'll just carry it without +a squeal. Then later you'll understand, and--you'll be real glad for +it. Will you--will you go back to her--to-morrow, Jeff?" + +Nan waited almost breathlessly. She was watching him with a gaze that +searched every detail of his face. She saw the strong veins at his +temples standing out, the usually clear eyes stained and bloodshot. +She saw him raise one hand wearily to his forehead, and pass it back +over his hair. She knew the movement so well. The sight of it +thrilled her. There was little about him she did not know and +understand. + +"You've made it seem I'll have to, Nan," he said with desperate +reluctance. + +For a moment a strange feeling of weakness came over the girl. But she +resolutely thrust it aside. + +"It's not me, Jeff," she disclaimed. "You know it's not me. And +you'll--promise?" + +He nodded. + +"I'll go back to her, because--of you." + +A curious look of fear crept into the girl's eyes. + +"You'll go back, because--of her," she persisted. + +The man shook his head. + +"Anyway--I'll go back." + +The words were roughly spoken. But Nan accepted them. It was all she +could hope for. And--well, she had done her best. + +She sighed deeply. She glanced about her. For a moment they dwelt +upon the man who was denied her. The man in whom she saw all that +could ever make life worth while. + +"Good-night, Jeff." + +Her voice was very low and soft. + +"Good-night, Nan." Then with a sudden outburst, as forceful as it was +spontaneous: "God, if the world were only made up of women like you!" + +But the door had closed. And as Nan crept to her bedroom, unrestrained +tears coursed down her soft cheeks. The full force of the irony of it +all was too great for her. He was going back to Elvine, and--she had +sent him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BARRIER + +Jeff was abroad at daylight. Even Bud, whose habit was sunrise, had not +yet wakened from his heavy slumbers. But Nan was stirring. She heard +Jeff moving, and she saw him beyond her window. She saw him bring his +horse from the barn, saddled and bridled. In a moment he had mounted and +ridden away. Then she dressed, and, for the rest, wondered at the +possible outcome of it all. Half an hour later the sun rose and the +day's work began. + +When Jeff reached his home it was still wrapped in the habit of night. +There was no one and nothing stirring, for, as yet, only the golden glow +of the eastern sky promised the coming of day. + +His mood was bitter. But his purpose was calculated and deliberate. He +had given his promise in answer to Nan's irresistible pleading. But +otherwise the man was completely unchanged. He moved away down to the +corrals, and leaned against the great lateral rails which closed the +entrance. The beasts within were chewing the cud, and still picking at +the remains of their overnight feed. + +They were a goodly sight to eyes that understood the meaning of such +things. It was only one of a number of corrals similarly crowded with +beasts, that were, for various reasons, herded in shelter at night. +These were a few, a very few of the vast numbers which bore the familiar +"O----" brand. There were the outlying stations which harbored their +hundreds. There were the pastures with their complement of breeding +cows. Then there were the herds of two- and three-year-olds roaming the +plains at their will, fattening for the buyers who came at intervals. + +Thoughts of these things compelled Jeff now. And he saw what Nan had +saved him from. Wreck had been threatening in the course he had marked +out for himself at first. How could prosperity have maintained under the +conditions he would have imposed? Even now, under the modification which +Nan had appealed for, he failed to see the continuation of that success +he had striven so hard for. The incentive was no longer in him, he told +himself. Where lay the use, the purpose in it all? The future? That +dream future which had come to him could never mature now. It was no +longer a dream. It was nightmare. + +He wondered why he had yielded to Nan's entreaty. It all seemed so +purposeless now in the broad light of day. He could force himself to +live with his wife--under the same roof. Perhaps in time he could even +meet her in daily intercourse. She might even become a factor in the +great work of the Obar. But the joy of achievement had been snatched +from him. All that he had foreseen might be achieved in the work, even. +But the process would have been completely robbed of its inspiration, and +was therefore not to be counted worth while. + +The thought of the woman's regard for him left him cold. He dwelt upon +it. Suddenly he wondered. Two days ago he could not have thought of it +without a thrill. Now it meant--nothing. He remembered Nan's appeal. +Why--why had it affected him last night? It had not been because +of--Evie. + +Nan had talked of justice--duty. He could see no appeal in either now. +Why should he be forced to observance of the laws of justice, or--duty +toward a woman who----? + +He stirred restlessly. His attention was drawn to his horse. He moved +over to it and off-saddled. Then he returned to his place at the corral. +The sun was just breaking the horizon. He heard sounds of life coming +from the bunkhouse. + +Nan's appeal no longer convinced him--now that he was away from her. +But--he had pledged his word. He could not break his word to Nan, +although he longed--madly longed to resaddle his horse and ride away, and +leave behind him forever this place which had suddenly become so full of +bitter memories. No--he had pledged his word. + +Soon he must once more confront his wife. He reviewed the possibilities. +The night long he had spent in considering the position he intended to +place before her. Would she accept it? And--what then? The long days +of work, unlit by any hope of the future. The process of building, +building, which all men desire, without that spark of delight which +inspires the desire. Just the drudgery of it. The resulting wealth and +commercial power of it maybe, but not one moment of the joy with which +only two days before he had regarded the broad vista of the future. + +Now the smell of cooking reached him from the bunkhouse. Several men +were moving down toward the corrals. He passed on toward the house. A +moment or so later he stood on the veranda gazing out at the streaming +cattle as they moved toward the wide home pastures, under the practised +hands of the ranchmen. It was a sight to inspire any cattleman, and, for +a moment, the brooding eyes of the master of it all lit with a flash of +their former appreciation. But the change was fleeting. The blue depths +clouded again. The question once more flashed through his +brain--what--what was the use of it all? + +None, none at all. Every dream had been swept from his waking thoughts. +Every enchanting emotion was completely dead. The woman who had inspired +the rose-tinted glasses through which he had gazed upon the future no +longer had power so to inspire him. By her own action she had taken +herself out of his life. She could never again become a part of it. He +would live on with her, under the same roof, a mockery of the life which +their marriage imposed upon them. He had pledged that to Nan, and he +would not break his word to--Nan. But love? His love was gone. It was +dead. And he knew that the ashes of that once passionate fire could +never be stirred into being again. + +There was a rustle of skirts behind him. He heard, but did not turn. A +fierce passion was rising to his brain, and he dared not turn until he +had forced it under restraint. + +"You have come back, Jeff?" + +The voice was low and soft. There was something tragically humble in its +tone. + +The man turned. + +"Yes, Evie." Then he added: "I told you I would." + +His voice was gentler than he knew. The harshness of their previous +meeting had gone out of it. Nor was he aware of the change, nor of the +reason, although in his mind was the memory of his promise to Nan. + +"And you'll tell me your decision--now?" + +The humility was heart-breaking. Nor was the man unaffected by it. He +looked into the beautiful face, for the dark eyes were averted. Then his +gaze dropped to the charming figure daintily clad in a simple morning +frock of subtle attraction. But his eyes came back to the face with its +crowning of beautiful dark hair, nor was there any change in their +expression as a result of their survey. + +"As well now as later." + +"What is it?" + +For the first time Jeff found himself gazing into the wide dark eyes. +There was pain in them. Apprehension. There were the signs about them +of long sleepless nights. He shut the sight of these things out by the +process of turning away to observe the general movement going on in the +near distance. + +"Guess there's no use to say a deal," he said, a curiously moody note +taking possession of his voice. "If I did, why, I'd likely say a whole +heap more than a man may say to his wife. Guess the right an' wrong of +things had best lie in our hearts. You know just what you did, and why +you did it. I know what you did, an' can only guess why you did it. I +don't figger any talk could convince either of us different to how we +think and feel. Maybe there's Someone knows the rights of this thing +better than either of us. That being so, I allow He'll ultimately fix +things as He intends. Meanwhile it's for us to do as we feel, just so +far as our personal earthly concerns go." + +The coldness in his voice had grown, and it left Evie with a complete +sense of hopelessness that was harder to bear than any fears which +violence of language might have inspired. + +His pause was prolonged. She made no effort to break it, she dared not +break it. For the man, he was gathering the threads of what he had to +say so as to deliver it concretely. He feared to prolong this interview. +In view of his decision he must not risk any violent outbreak such as his +feelings were even now striving to force upon him. + +"Maybe you'll remember what I said to you about Ronny just after we +were--married. I don't guess you'll have forgotten, seeing things are as +they are. What I said then stands now. If you'd been a man I'd have +shot you down in your tracks when I got to home last night. That should +say all that need be said about how I'm feeling now. You aren't a man, +and you're my wife. Well--you're still my wife. That means it's up to +me to keep you as though this thing hadn't broken things up. I intend to +act as right as I can by you. This is your home. You must use it, if +you feel that way. The Obar has to go on. It's your means of living. +It's my means of living. Then there are others concerned in it. For +these reasons I shall carry on things, and your knowledge of this sort of +work should hand you a reasonable share in the running of this place. If +you feel you can act this way, without remembering we're man and wife, +why, I guess we can agree to live our--separate--lives under the same +roof. If you don't feel you can do this, why, you need to say so right +here an' now, an' state your wishes. I'll do my best to carry them +through, provided you understand our lives are separate from now on. Do +you get that?" + +Did she get it? Could there be any mistaking those cold tones, that +ruthless decision? + +From slightly behind him Elvine had stood watching with straining eyes +the still figure, speaking with so obvious a repression of feeling, his +eyes steadily fixed upon the distant horizon. Once or twice an ominous +flush had suddenly flamed up in her eyes. A deep flush had stained her +cheeks. But as he ceased speaking the same shrinking, the same humility +marked her attitude. She knew instinctively she dared not say the things +she was yearning to pour out. She knew instinctively that any such +course would at once break down that thin veneer of restraint he was +exercising. And for perhaps the first time in her life she stood awed +and cowed by a man. + +But this woman was the slave of her passions, and she knew it. It was +this now that made a coward of her. With all the power of self in her +she had abandoned herself to her love for her husband. And, with slavish +submission, she was prepared to accept his words rather than banish +herself out of his presence altogether. A mad, wild hope lay somewhere +deep down in her heart that some day he could be made to forget. That +some day, through what looked to her like endless days of devotion and +help, she might win back something of what she had lost. She knew her +own attraction. She knew her own powers. Might there not then be hope +in the dim future? + +She had no pride where Jeff was concerned. She wanted him. His love was +all life to her now. If she had followed the natural course which should +have been hers and refused his proposal, she would have been closing the +door, finally, upon all that made life possible. If she submitted there +still remained to her the vaguest possible shadow of hope. This was her +thought and motive in the crisis with which she was faced, and her +calculations were made out of her yearning, and without true +understanding of the man with whom she was dealing. + +Jeff awaited her decision under an enforced calm. + +"It's for you to say," she said, after some moments. "Nor is the choice +mine. I shall obey. You've said I can help in the work. Maybe it's my +right. I'll claim that right anyway. It's the only right I'll claim. +I've only one other thing to say, and maybe you'll let me speak it this +once." + +"Go on." + +"I didn't guess I was doing wrong. I don't know now I did wrong. +Anyway, if what I did was wrong it's against God's laws and not man's. +Maybe you've a right to punish me. I don't know. Anyway, my life and +interests are bound to yours, and I want you to know every effort of mine +will be to further--your interests. This has made no change in me--that +way. You can trust me as you'd trust yourself. I'm not here to squeal +for any mercy from you, Jeff. And maybe some day you'll--understand. I +guess your breakfast's ready. I'll have mine later." + + * * * * * * + +Later in the day Elvine rode out from the ranch house. Nor did she +concern herself with her object, nor her course, beyond a wild desire for +the solitude of the hills. The full torture of the new life, on the +threshold of which she now stood, had not come upon her until after the +effects of her interview with her husband had had time to calm down. +Then to remain in the house, which had become a sort of prison to her, +was made impossible. She must get out. She must break into activity. +She felt that occupation alone could save her reason. + +So she struck out for the hills. Their claim of earlier days was upon +her. The hills, and their wooded valleys. Their brooding calm, their +dark shadows, their mysterious silence. These things claimed her mood. + +She rode recklessly across the wide spread of Rainbow-Hill Valley. She +had no thought for the horse under her. She would have welcomed the +pitfalls which mighty have robbed her of the dreadful consciousness of +the disaster which had overwhelmed her. She was striving to flee from +thoughts from which she knew there was no escape. She was striving to +lose herself in the activities of the moment. + +The switchback of the plain rose and fell under her horse's busy hoofs. +It rose higher, and ever higher, as she approached the western slopes. +She left the fenced pastures behind her, and the last signs of the life +to which she was now committed. Before her the woodlands rose up +shrouded in their dark foliage. The mourning aspect of the pines suited +her temper; she felt as though their drooping boughs were in harmony with +the bereavement of her soul. + +She plunged amidst the serried aisles of leafless trunks with something +like welcome for their shadows. She rode on regardless of distance and +direction. + +From the crest of a hill she looked down upon narrow mountain creek +surging between borders of pale green foliage. The sound of the waters +came up to her, and the wilderness of it all appealed, as, at that +moment, nothing else could have appealed. She pressed her blowing horse +forward, and rode down to the banks so densely overgrown. + +She leaped from the saddle. She relieved her horse of its saddle and +flung herself upon the mossy ground in the shelter of a cluster of +spruce. The humid heat was oppressive. The tumbling waters were unable +to stir the atmosphere. But their music was soothing, and the sight of +their turbulent rush seemed to hold sympathy for her troubled heart. And +so she lay there, her head propped upon a supporting hand, and yielded +herself to the sway of her emotions. + +After a while tears dimmed her eyes. They overflowed down her cheeks. +She had reached the end of endurance before yielding to her woman's +pitiful weakness. Time had no meaning now. Place had lost its +influence. She saw nothing, knew nothing but the trouble which had +robbed her of all she lived for. + +Then came the inevitable. Her tears eventually relaxed the tension of +her nerves, and, after several ineffectual attempts to keep them open, +the weight of the atmosphere closed her eyes and yielded her the final +mercy of sleep. + + * * * * * * + +Elvine awoke with a start. She awoke with the conviction of the presence +of the man she had met in the hill regions before. She knew some one was +near her, but, for the moment---- + +Yes. She sat up. A pair of brown eyes were gazing down into hers. Then +came the voice, and it was low, and gentle. It had nothing startling in +it. + +"Why, say, an' I've been hunting your trail this hour, taking you +for--some one else." + +Nan had been standing with her arm linked through her horse's reins. Now +she relinquished them, and flung herself upon the ground before the +startled woman. + +Elvine stared at her with unease in her dark eyes. Nor did she gain +reassurance from the pretty face with its soft brown hair, and the +graceful figure beneath its brown cloth riding suit. Yet she was not +insensible to the companionship. Her greater fears had been of the man, +Sikkem, who had been in her waking thoughts. + +"You were following my tracks?" she demanded uncertainly. + +Nan's eyes grew grave. + +"I certainly was. Though I didn't guess they were yours. Say, you must +have crossed the tracks I was following," she added thoughtfully. "Did +you see anybody? Four fellers? Mighty tough-looking citizens, an' +strangers?" + +The frankness of the girl reestablished confidence. + +Elvine sat up. + +"No," she said. Then the wonder of it possessed her. "But you--you +alone were following on the tracks of four tough strangers?" she cried +incredulously. + +Nan smiled. Her smile was pretty. It was a confident, wise little smile. + +"Sure," she said. "I saw them, and it was up to me. You see, Evie, we +folks out here kind of need to think diff'rent. A girl can't just help +being a girl, but when rustlers are around, raising small Cain with her +men-folks' goods, why, she's got to act the way they would when they +light on a suspicious trail. I was guessing that track would lead me +somewhere. But," she added with a grimace, "I wasn't as smart as I +figgered. You must have crossed it, an' I lost 'em." + +"But can't you get back to it? Maybe I can help some. I've followed a +trail before," Elvine added, in a tone which Nan understood better than +the other knew. + +But the girl shook her head. + +"My plug is tired, and there's the chase back to home. I guess we'll +leave 'em, and just--report. But there's something doing. I mean +something queer. These folk don't reckon to show themselves in daytime, +and I guess they were traveling from the direction of Spruce Crossing." + +"That's where the man Sikkem's stationed," said Elvine. + +"Sure. But I don't guess they been near his shanty. They wouldn't fancy +gettin' around Sikkem's lay-out in daytime. You see, he's--sudden." + +Nan's confidence was not without its effect. But Elvine was less sure. + +"This Sikkem. I don't like him. But----" + +Nan dismissed the matter in her own way. + +"Sikkem's been on the ranch nigh three years. He's a cattleman first, +and hates rustlers worse than poison. But he's tough. Oh, he's tough, +all right. I wouldn't gamble a pea-shuck he hasn't quite a dandy bunch +of notches on his gun. But we're used to his sort." + +Then she went on in a reflective fashion as though hollowing out a train +of thought inspired by the man under discussion: + +"Sort o' seems queer the way we see things. Right here on the prairie we +mostly take folks on trust, an' treat 'em as we find 'em. Maybe they're +wanted for all sorts of crimes. Maybe they done a turn in penitentiary. +Maybe they even shot up folk cold. These things don't signify a cent +with us so they handle cattle right, and are ready to push lead into any +bunch of rustlers lyin' around. Guess it's environment makes us that +way. The prairie's so mighty wide it helps us folks to get wide." + +Evie was watching the play of the girl's expressive eyes. + +"I wonder--if you're right." + +"Mostly, I guess." + +"Mostly?" + +Nan nodded. + +"It isn't easy to condemn amongst folks on the prairie," she said with a +sigh. + +Elvine shook her head. Her eyes were turned from the girl. They were +staring down into the turbulent stream. + +"I don't think I've found it that way." + +"How?" + +The interrogation was natural. But it brought Elvine's eyes sharply to +the girl's, and, for a moment, they gazed steadily into each other's. + +Then the woman's graceful shoulders went up. + +"I see you know." + +"And--you aren't mad with me for knowing? You aren't mad with Jeff for +me knowing? I wanted you to know I knew. I wanted to tell you I knew, +only I didn't just know how to tell you. Then I wanted to tell +you--something else." + +There was simple sincerity in every word the girl spoke. The light in +her eyes was shining with truth. Elvine saw it, and knew these things +were so, and, in her loneliness of heart, in her brokenness of spirit, +she welcomed the chance of leaning for support upon a soul so obviously +strong and sympathetic. She yielded now as she would never have believed +it possible to yield. + +Suddenly she raised her hands to her head and pressed her fingers to her +temples. + +"Oh, I--I don't know what to do. I sort of feel I just can't--can't stop +around. And yet---- Oh, I love him so I can't, daren't leave him +altogether. You can't understand, child, no one can. You--oh, you've +never known what love is, my dear. I'm mad--mad for him. And--and I can +never come into his life again." + +She dropped her hands from her head in a movement that to Nan seemed as +though she were wringing them. Nan's own heart was thumping in her +bosom. She, too, could have cried out. But her eyes steadily, and +almost tenderly, regarded the woman who had taken Jeff from her. + +"You must stop around," she said in a low, firm tone. "Say, Evie, I +don't guess I'm bright, or clever, or anything like that. I don't reckon +I know things different to other folk. But just think how it would be if +you went away now. You'd never see Jeff again, maybe, and he'd never +know just how you love him. You see, men-folk are so queer, too. Maybe +Jeff's right, and you and me are wrong. Maybe we're right, and he's all +wrong. I can't say. But I tell you Jeff needs you now--more than ever. +He don't know it, maybe. But he wants you, and if you love him you'll +just--stand by. Oh, I could tell you of a thousand ways you can help +him. A thousand ways you can show him your love without telling him. It +means a hard fight for you. I know. And maybe you'll think he isn't +worth it. But he is--to you. You love him. And any man a woman loves +is worth to her every sacrifice she can make. I don't know. Maybe you +got to be punished, not by us folk, not for what you done to Jeff. But +Someone guesses you got to be punished, and this is the way He's fixed +it. Say, Evie, you won't let go of things, will you? Maybe you can't +see ahead just now. But you will--later. You love Jeff, and he just +loves you, though he's sort of blind to it now. But he loves you, an' no +one else. He wouldn't act the way he's doing if it weren't so. I sort +of felt I must say all this to you. I--I don't know why--just. But I +won't ever talk like this again. I haven't a right, I know. But I don't +mean harm. I don't sure. And if you'll let me help you anyway I can +I'll--be real glad." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THREATENINGS + +The offer of reward for the rustlers operating in Rainbow Hill Valley +was without the desired effect. It was worse. The men against whom it +was directed received it with deliberate but secretly expressed +contempt. Nor did Chance serve the masters of the Obar, as four years +before She had served Dug McFarlane. + +Nor was the failure due to lack of effort. Bud left no stone unturned. +And Jeff--well, Jeff did all a man could. The hills were scoured, and +the deeps and hidden hollows of the greater foothills. The notices of +reward were sent broadcast, even penetrating to the Orrville country. +They were set up as Jeff had promised, on tree trunks in the remoter +hills where any chance eye might discover them. Where undoubtedly the +men who constituted the gang must sooner or later discover them. + +The only response was a continuation of the raids. + +But a distinct change had taken place in the method of these. Whereas, +originally, they had been directed against not only the Obar Ranch, but +wherever opportunity offered in the district, they now fastened their +vampire clutches upon the Obar only, and, finally, on only one section +of its territory: the land which belonged to Jeff's side of the +partnership. + +So marked was this that it could not be missed. + +The partners were out at a distant station where they had been urgently +summoned. A young "hand" had been wounded, a nasty flesh wound in the +arm. He had been bringing in a small bunch of steers which had strayed +to a distant hollow in the hills. It had been overnight. He was held +up, and shot by three outlaws, and his cattle run off. + +It was Bud who voiced the thought of both partners immediately after a +close interrogation of the injured man. + +"Looks like some low-bred son-of-a-hobo owes you a reckonin' he's +yearnin' to git quit of, Jeff," he said, the moment they were alone. +"They're workin' this way all the time. They ain't so much as smelt +around the old 'T.T.' territory in days. D'you make it that way?" + +Jeff nodded. + +"Sure." + +But he made no attempt to throw enlightenment. + +"Guess you signed the reward." + +Bud watched the shadowed serious face of his friend. + +"Maybe it's that." There was something like indifference in the +younger man's manner. + +Perhaps it was this manner which stirred Bud's impatience and drove him +to resentment. + +"Say," he cried, in fiercely vibrant tones, "d'you know what it is I +got in my head? It's the 'hands' on our range. Sure. Ther's some +lousy guy on the Obar working in with the gang. Cowpunchers are a +mongrel lot anyway. Ther' ain't one but 'ud souse the sacrament wine +ef the passon wa'an't lookin' on. I guess we'll need to chase up the +penitentiary re-cord of every blamed thief on our pay-roll. Maybe the +cinch we're lookin' fer lies that way." + +"It's curious." + +"Curious? Gee, it's rotten!" + +The old man's patience completely gave way. + +"See right here, Jeff. I ain't rattled. Not a thing. But ther's got +to be some guts put into this thing, an' you an' me's got to find 'em. +See? I'm sick to death. Right here an' now I tell you ther's goin' to +be a rotten piece of trouble around this lay-out, an' I'm goin' to be +in it--right up to my back teeth." + +It was perhaps the first time Bud had displayed impatience with the man +who had always been the leading spirit of their enterprise. The truth +was, something seemed to have gone out of Jeff. He neglected nothing. +He spared himself no pains. His physical efforts seemed even to have +become greater as the days passed. Frequently, now, night as well as +day found him in the saddle watching over their interests. He had +become a sort of restless spirit urging forward the work, and watching, +watching with the lynx eyes dreaded so much by the men who served him. +But for all that something had certainly gone out of him, and Bud knew +and feared its going. + +If Bud knew and feared the change, he also knew the cause of it. +Neither he nor Nan were blind to the drama silently working out in the +other household. It was bitterly plain and almost heart-breaking to +the onlookers. The same roof sheltered husband and wife. But no +unnecessary word was spoken between them. Their meals were taken +apart. They were as completely and coldly separate as though they +occupied opposite poles. And the girl who recognized these things, and +the man who watched them, only wondered how long it must be before the +final disaster came upon them. + +Jeff's moods had become extraordinarily variable. There were moments +when his moroseness became threatening. The canker at his heart was +communicating itself to his whole outlook, and herein lay the failure +in his work. + +It was the realization of all this which stirred Bud's impatience. He +knew that unless a radical change was quickly brought about, the +vaunted Obar had certainly reached and probably passed its zenith. + +Finally, he opened his heart to the sure sympathy of Nan. He had +purposely taken her with him on a boundary inspection amongst the +foothills. They were riding through a silent hollow where quiet seemed +to lie on the top of everything. Even their horses' hoofs failed to +make an impression upon it. Peace was crowding the woodland slopes, a +peace profound and unbreakable. + +"The Obar's struck a mighty bad patch, Nan," he said abruptly. "Ef +things kep hittin' their present gait, why, I don't jest see wher' +we're to strike bottom. The pinch ain't yet, but you can't never kick +out a prop without shakin' the whole darned buildin' mighty bad. An' +that's how the Obar's fixed. Ther's a mighty big punch gone plumb out +o' Jeff's fight, an', well, I guess we're needin' all our punch to fix +the things crowdin' around us." + +"You mean the rustlers?" Nan drove to the heart things without +hesitation. + +"Sure. Them an'--other things." + +The girl nodded. She knew the other things without asking. + +"Jeff's in a heap of--trouble," she said with a sigh. + +"An' looks like carryin' us along with him--ef we ain't watchin' +around." + +"We've always kind of leaned on Jeff." + +"Most folks are ready to lean, Nan. It sort o' saves 'em a deal of +trouble." + +"Yes. Till you kick the prop away." + +"Sure. Our prop's been kicked away, an' we've jest got to git right up +on to our hind legs an'--git busy. The leanin' racket's played out fer +us. We got to hand Jeff a prop now, an' see it don't git kicked away. +See?" + +For some moments the girl's gaze searched straight ahead of her down +the valley. And into her eyes there grew a gentle light of enthusiasm. +Suddenly she turned upon the great figure on its horse beside her. + +"We've stood up on our own years, Daddy--before Jeff came along. We +can stand now, can't we? I guess we're not going to fail Jeff now he's +in trouble. Jeff's been all for us. We're going to be all for him. +He needs us, Daddy, and--I'm glad in a way. Say, my heart nigh breaks +every time I peek into his poor sad an' troubled face. Jeff's just +beating his soul dead. And if the Obar gets wrong, it'll sure be the +end of everything for him. It mustn't, Daddy. Things mustn't go +wrong. 'Deed they mustn't. It's up to us. You must show me how, +Daddy. You're wise to it all. You're strong. You know. Show me. +Put me wise, an' I'll--take Jeff's place." + +The girl's words came full of a passionate sincerity. There were no +half measures in this child of the prairie. Her love was given, a +wealth of generous feeling and loyal self-sacrifice. Her father read +with a rare understanding. And in his big heart, so rough, so warm, he +cursed with every forceful epithet of his vocabulary the folly of the +man he had marked out for a son. + +"We'll make good, or--bust," he said, with a warmth that almost matched +the girl's. + +Then he pointed ahead where the hollow opened out, and a large clump of +trees marked dividing ways. + +"I guessed you'd best see this. It's one o' them notions o' Jeff's. +That play ain't worth a cent." + +"Ah!" + +They rode up to the bluff in silence. And after a moment's search Bud +drew rein before a heavy tree trunk, to which was secured a printed +sheet. He pointed at it, and, for a while, neither spoke. Nan was +taking in the disfigurements with which it was covered, and she read +the words written across it in bold but illiterate characters: + +"We're wise to her. She don't git no second chanst." + +The rest of the disfigurings were mischievous, and of almost indecent +character. + +"Does Jeff know?" Nan's question was almost a whisper. + +"I ain't told him." + +Bud's reply was one of doubt. + +"He--he ought to be told." + +Then Bud suddenly abandoned the restraint he had been exercising. + +"Oh ----! Ther' ain't no use. He can't do a thing. He wouldn't do a +thing. I tell you we're jest suckin'-kids in this racket. We got to +lie around crazy enough to fancy we're goin' to git the drop on these +bums. What a country! What a cuss of a lay-out wher' you got to set +around watching a darnation gang o' toughs whittlin' away your work +till they got you beat to a mush. Here, I'm goin' to start right in. +I'm goin' to get around Calthorpe. The sheriff's got to git busy, an' +earn his monthly pay check. We'll hev to raise vigilantes. I tell you +they'll break us else. Ef Jeff can't see, why, he'll hev to be made +to. Blast their louse-bound souls to hell!" + +And Nan welcomed the outburst. Rough, coarse, violent. It did not +matter. What mattered to her was the purpose. The purpose which she +hoped and prayed would help Jeff. She had no thought for themselves. +Their end of the enterprise never came into her considerations. She +was thinking of Jeff. Solely of Jeff--the man she loved better than +her life. + + * * * * * * + +The change in Elvine was no less marked than it was in Jeff. But it +was a change in a wholly different direction. She was deeply subdued, +even submissive in her attitude. But now after the first crisis and +its accompanying pain, a general relief was apparent. A relief which +anything but indicated the hopelessness which had at the first +overwhelmed her. She was not hopeless. Therein lay the key of the +matter. + +From the time when she had passed through those moments of frenzied +despair, after Jeff's return from Orrville, her decision had been taken +with lightning celerity. Her back was to the wall, and she meant to +fight for all she yearned, desired, by every art she possessed. She +knew nothing of the reason which had made her husband return to her. +It was sufficient that he had done so. It gave her the vague, wild +hope she needed, and with all her might she intended to set herself to +the task of winning back her position in his regard. + +She was not logical. Had she been, she must have accepted the +alternative of freedom offered her, and, on a liberal allowance, +betaken herself to some selfish, worldly life which might have appealed +to her. No, she was not logical. Had she been, she would never have +loved this man as she now knew better than ever she loved him. She was +not logical, but she had courage. It was the same courage which had +driven her to fight for that which she had desired years ago. She was +going to fight now. And again it was for selfish motives. Only this +time they took the form of the love of the man she| had married. + +She set to work from the very start. Her attractions she knew were +great. Jeff must be made to realize them. He must be made to realize +all a woman could mean in this life which was theirs. She would +unobtrusively study his interests to the last degree. His position in +the ranching world would give her ample scope in this. Then there was +the work of the ranch. Here her earlier experiences would help her +materially. + +So she laid for herself a deliberate campaign. Always counting that +his lightest command was her law, and nothing must be permitted to +display her desire to break down the barrier he had set up between them. + +Two days of deep consideration showed her her course. And once having +marked it out she set about following it. + +Her house was her first care. It must be ordered as no other house of +its kind was ordered. She thought of every expressed wish of his +during their brief engagement and honeymoon, and sorted it into its +place in scheme. + +Then came her place in the work of the range. This was more difficult +to take at once by reason of lack of precedent. But by tactful +watchfulness she felt it could be accomplished. Her first step must be +to impress on Lal Hobhouse her intention, and, in this, even sooner +than she had dared to hope, she managed to secure a footing. Once her +mind was set to achieve a purpose her capacity was beyond all question, +and in these troublous times of rustlers the foreman was more than +content to welcome her aid. + +Throughout these days she rarely obtruded herself upon the man she +desired most in the world. He might almost have been non-existent. +The rare moments in which he spoke to her were met with a cool reserve +on her part, which left nothing to be desired, and gave no opportunity +for the reopening of those matters which had brought about the +position. Indeed, Elvine had more than reason to be satisfied with her +work. + +She felt at last that the worst was over, and now it remained for her +to win back, step by step, the lost ground, until she had restored +herself to her position. It could be done. It should be done, she +told herself. She admitted no crime against him. Then where was the +justice of it? Anyway, that fierce dread was off her mind. She knew +the worst now. She no longer stood on the brink of an abyss of +doubt---- + +She was in her bedroom considering these things. It was a golden +evening and the setting sun was shining athwart her windows. Quite +suddenly the simple sewing in her fingers dropped upon her lap, and her +startled eyes turned upon the wide view of the valley bathed in the +perfect evening light. + +Was she no longer standing upon that brink? The question flashed +through her mind as she remembered an incident until then completely +lost in the greater issues. It was the threat of that scrawled note +which had been flung in at that very window. She even remembered the +sensation of the blow which had awakened her on the night of torture +during which she had waited for Jeff's return from Orrville. + +She sprang to her feet. Every other thought was swept from her mind. +And, for a moment, fresh panic stirred her veins. The words of that +message. They were unforgettable. + + +"You sold the lives of men for a price. You had your way then. We're +goin' to have our way now. You'll pay for that deal the only way we +know." + + +The only way we know! Her memory flew to the man Sikkem. Oh, she knew +him. She had recognized him on the instant of their meeting. She knew +he came from Orrville. She had seen him there. But---- Was he one of +the original Orrville gang, all unsuspected, or, at least, if not +unsuspected, _unknown_ to be? + +While she pondered the subject she heard her husband's arrival. She +heard him cross the veranda and, pass into the house. + +Then again she took up the thread of her thought. This man Sikkem. If +he were one of the Orrville gang, what was more likely than that he +should have sent that threat? If he sent it, what more likely than +that he was one of the gang of rustlers operating here? If he were one +of them, then what added significance did it give threat? + +A wave of sudden excitement replaced the panic of a moment before. +"The only way we know." Did that mean raiding her husband's stock and +endeavoring so to ruin the Obar? It looked like it. It would account +for what was being done. But no. That might be part of what was +contained in the threat. But not all. The only way we know! The only +way this class of man understood paying off a score was different from +that. With these men it was always a life for a life. Whose? Hers? +It might be. + +The sun had sunk beyond the mountain peaks. In the adjoining +living-room she heard the clatter of supper things. Jeff was having +his meal in the solitude which had become their habit. + +If it were her life they intended it would not much matter. But was +it? Would they punish her that way? To her it did not suggest the +refinement of cruelty which would appeal to them. No, there were other +signs. Their purpose looked to be to ruin the Obar, and then--what +then? Rob her of the man she loved? It could be done. It would be +easy, and surely the refinement of it would appeal to natures so +ruthless. + +Her sewing had dropped to the floor. Mechanically she picked it up. +Then and there she purposed to break in upon her husband's meal. But +she hesitated, and the impulse passed. Instead, she went to a drawer +in her bureau and withdrew the folded paper. She read it over and +returned to her seat. Decision was lacking. Her interpretation of the +threat had taken strong hold upon her, but she could not decide what +best to do. Her fine eyes were troubled as she gazed out into the +growing dusk. Dared she go to him? Would he listen? + +But once more her thoughts were diverted. The sound of a great clatter +of hoofs reached her from the other side of the house. Some one had +ridden up to the veranda at a great pace. Who? And what could the +urgency be at such an hour? + +She heard Jeff moving in the living-room. She heard him pass out on to +the veranda. Then curiosity, perhaps apprehension, urged her. She +passed to the window beyond her bureau, which was near the angle of the +building, and leaned out of it. Ordinary tones on the veranda would +reach her there. + +She waited, breathing lightly lest her hearing should be impaired. A +strange voice was talking. She could not place it. It was rough, and +the language was rough. No doubt it was one of the "hands" from some +outlying point. + +"They got him through the chest, an' I guess he's goin' to pass in. He +sez to me, 'Ride like hell an' fetch the boss. Tell him I got 'em +plumb wher' he wants 'em. I located their lay-out. I ain't got above +an hour or so to tell him in. Just hike an' ride like ----!'" + +Then came Jeff's voice cold and undisturbed. + +"Where is he?" + +"Why, by his shack at Spruce Crossing. He jest got in, an' nigh fell +plumb in his tracks out o' the saddle. I don't guess any feller but +Sikkem could ha' done it. He's tough--mighty tough." + +Sikkem! Elvine moved from the window. Sikkem! Her heart was pounding +in her bosom, and, for a moment, her brain seemed in a whirl. Sikkem +had discovered the raiders and was willing to give them away. In a +flash she was back in Orrville, and her mind was searching amongst +shadowy memories that had suddenly become acute. Sikkem! Sikkem! No. +She must see Jeff. She must tell him of--Sikkem. She must warn him, +and show him her note. A sudden, crushing foreboding descended upon +her, and she hurried toward the door. + +In a few seconds she was on the veranda confronting her husband. For a +moment her courage well-nigh failed her. Jeff was standing with his +back turned toward the sunset. The ranchman was no longer there. He +had gone to the barn to order a fresh saddle horse for the master of +the Obar. Apparently Jeff had turned to repass into the house. + +His fair strong face, serious and cold, was turned directly upon the +beautiful figure of his wife, and it was the coldness of it that +daunted her now. + +"Well?" + +The bitterness of that frigid, surprised inquiry was crushing. Elvine +looked into his eyes for one single shadow of softening. She could +find none. It shocked the hope she had been steadily building in her +heart. + +She had no words in which to answer. She stood thus for one uncertain +moment. Then she thrust out her hand. It contained the threatening +message. + +"Will you read that--at once?" + +His cold regard dropped from her face. The man noted the dirty paper +in her soft white hand. Then he took it. Nor did their hands come +into contact. + +"Is it a matter of importance?" + +Elvine could have cried out with the stab of the question. Only some +matter of vital importance justified her action in his eyes. Her gaze +was averted to hide her pain. + +"I should not have come to you otherwise." + +The man moved to the edge of the veranda to obtain more of the dying +light. At that moment the ranchman approached with two saddle horses. +Elvine scrutinized him carefully. He was a complete stranger to her. + +Jeff had read the note. He stood regarding the ranchman. Suddenly his +voice broke sharply. + +"Leave my horse at the tying post. Wait for me at the barn." + +He watched the man secure his horse. Then he watched him return to the +barn. Nor did he speak again till he was out of earshot. + +At last he turned back to the waiting woman. + +"Who sent this? When did you get it? How?" The questions came +rapidly. + +"It came the night you were at Orrville. It was flung in through the +open window late at night. I'd fallen asleep in my chair--waiting. It +hit me on the face. They'd made it fast around a grass-tuft." + +"Who sent it?" + +"It must have been the man, Sikkem, who's just sent in word to you +he's--shot up." + +"Sikkem? Why?" + +Suddenly the restraint Elvine was exercising gave way. Even her +husband's deliberate coldness was powerless to stem the tide of +conviction which had steadily mounted up within her. The one thought +in her mind was that he stood in danger. Her reason was slight enough, +but her love accentuated her intuition. She saw in her mind the +claiming of the toll these men demanded, and to her swift imagination +the picture of her husband's murder was complete before her eyes. + +"Sikkem comes from Orrville. He was there--four years ago. There was +more than suspicion attached to him. My first day here I met him. +Maybe you'll remember. He knew me at once. I don't guess there was +any mistake. And I knew him. When he heard I was--married to you he +pretended he'd mistaken me for--some one else. And when he explained +who, and his feelings against that woman--it was me he was +describing--I knew he was, as was suspected, one of the Lightfoot gang +at Orrville. Sikkem wrote that note. I could stake my life on it. +And--now he's sent for you. He's asking you to go out to Spruce +Crossing--at night. A distant, lonely point in the hills. He says +he's mortally wounded. He has found the rustlers hiding. Of course he +has. He's known all along. Nor do I believe he's wounded. He--and +the others--think the only way to get back on me is--through you. They +mean to kill you. Who's the boy who brought in word?" + +"A new 'hand' we've taken on to replace the boy who was shot up two +days back." + +"One of the gang." + +The woman spoke with a decision she did not realize. But her belief +had become conviction. No shadow of doubt remained. + +Jeff gazed thoughtfully down at the note. When he raised his eyes his +regard had undergone a shadow of change. + +There was less coldness in them. He shrugged. + +"Guess we'll leave that at present. Why all this now?" + +"Because your life's in danger. That's how I figure." + +There was a deep note of urgency in the woman's voice. Her eyes were +alight with a sudden, unmistakable emotion. But even if the man +realized these things he ignored them. + +"My life?" There was something cruelly biting in the reflection. "And +all this time you knew--Sikkem. You knew we were being raided." + +"I----" Elvine broke off. + +She had no reply. There could be no reply. Why, she wondered in +sudden horror, had she not told of this thing before? + +She stood with downcast eyes before the accusing glance of the man. +Then, after a moment's pause, a sound escaped his lips. And in it was +every thinkable expression of condemnation and contempt. + +"Tchah!" + +He turned away and strode across to his horse. The woman's voice came +to him low, despairing, appealing. + +"For God's sake, Jeff, don't go! You won't go! They'll kill you! Oh, +God! Jeff! Oh!" + +The final exclamation came in a sort of moan as the man swung himself +into the saddle, and, without a word, turned his horse and rode away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE HEARTS OF TWO WOMEN + +The figure was silent, motionless upon the veranda. The eyes were dull +and lifeless. It was as though paralysis held the woman in its grip. + +"Tchah!" + +The echo of that fierce expletive remained. It rang through heart and +brain. Its sting was hot. It seared its way through the life channels +and blasted all hope. + +Was there ever such contempt, such scorn, such repulsion, concentrated +in one single ejaculation! It told the woman everything. It told of a +failure so complete that hope became an emotion driven forever from her +heart. It told her that the usury of life was beyond all belief. It +told her that the interest demanded for every pledged moment was +without pity, or mercy, or justice. Now she knew how she had pawned, +and, oh God, the interest which was being torn from her! + +Her gaze remained upon the angle of the barn around which her husband +had vanished. She was waiting for him to reappear. She was waiting to +see if he would ride off in spite of her warning. But she was unaware +of the thought prompting her. All she knew, all she felt, was the +contempt, the scorn, the distrust he had hurled at her. + +The western sky had faded to a pallid yellow. The distance was losing +itself in the rising purple shadows. Already the dark patches of +woodlands were assuming that ghostly vagueness which belongs to +twilight. The ranch was wrapped in a deep repose. A sense of rest had +fallen upon the great valley. All life seemed satisfied with its long +day's effort and desired only the peace of night. + +But the quiet suddenly gave way before a fresh clatter of movement. +Hoofs once more beat on the sun-baked soil. Two figures grew out of +the twilight from behind the barn, and the woman knew that her warning +had gone for naught. She watched them until they were swallowed up by +the growing dusk. The last dim outline blurred itself into the +pasture. Then she stirred. + +A deep sigh was heavily breathed. Then, in a moment, the paralysis +fell from her. The dullness of her eyes gave place to a sheen of +excitement, and her perfect cheeks assumed a faint, hectic flush. + +For one brief moment she glanced back into the house. Then she glanced +down at her own clothing. She was still clad in the riding suit which +had become her daily wear. The survey seemed to satisfy her, for she +left the veranda at a run, and made her way toward the barn. + +Perhaps five minutes later she, too, became lost in the growing +twilight, and her horse's hoofs awoke anew the echoes of the place. +But her way did not lie in the track of the others. Her horse was +racing headlong in the direction of Nan's home. + +Bud and Nan were just finishing their supper when Elvine broke in upon +them. She came with a rush and a clatter which brought Nan out on to +the veranda in hurry of anxious inquiry. Bud was behind her, but his +movements lacked her impulse. + +Elvine was out of the saddle. She stood on the veranda, a figure of +wild-eyed appeal. + +"Jeff! Oh, he's gone. Nan, they'll--they'll kill him! I know it. +I'm certain. And I warned him. I warned him. But--oh!" + +She covered her face with her hands. It was a movement inspired by the +memory of his scorn. + +Nan's responsive heart was caught by the other's emotion. But above it +leaped a fear which she was powerless to deny. Jeff? Jeff in danger? +She flung out an arm. Her small hand gripped the other with a force +that was incredible. + +"What d'you mean?" she cried, almost fiercely. "Don't stand there like +a fool. Who is going to harm Jeff?" + +The sharp authority, so prompt, so unexpected, dragged the distraught +woman into some command of herself. She raised her head. Her eyes +were hot with unshed tears. They looked into Nan's, so urgent, yet so +full of a steadfast sanity. + +"It's Sikkem," she cried, steadying herself. "He's sent in to say he's +badly shot up. He says he's located the rustlers' camp and must hand +Jeff the news before--while he has time. Jeff's gone out there, +and--Sikkem's one of the gang and escaped from Orrville four years ago." + +"How d'you know?" It was Bud's heavy voice put the question. It was +full of stern command. + +"I've seen him. I know him, and--he knows me. He--he wrote this and +sent it me." + +Elvine thrust the crumpled note at Bud. Her gesture was almost +desperate. + +"When did he send it?" Again came Bud's command. + +"Days ago." + +"An' Jeff--didn't know till--now?" + +"I was afraid to tell him--then." + +Bud and Nan read the note by the parlor lamplight. A bitter +imprecation broke from the man's lips. + +"Guess I don't get it--yet," he said. + +But Nan was quicker. + +"He's gone to Spruce Crossing--to Sikkem?" she cried, her eyes hot as +they dwelt on the shaking woman before her. "Don't wait talking. It +don't matter the right of things. You, Daddy, get our horses fixed and +round up a bunch of boys from the bunkroom. Jeff's in danger, an' it's +up to us. Maybe Evie'll tell me while you go." + +Something of the great Bud's feelings was displayed in the celerity of +his movements. He was gone before Nan had finished speaking. + +The two women were left facing each other. + +Seconds passed without a word. The gentle Nan no longer looked out of +the brown eyes. They were hot, resentful. Nor would any one have +recognized in the anxious-eyed woman before her the beautiful creature +who had first stirred Jeffrey Masters out of his years of celibate +thought. + +Without a word Nan turned back to the parlor. When she reappeared she +was buckling a revolver belt about her slim waist. The two heavy +holsters it supported were almost incongruous on so slight a figure. + +Elvine watched her. The girl's deliberation was in deep contrast to +her own emotions. Then, too, the sympathy which had fled from Nan's +brown eyes left them full of hard resolve. + +"You--are not going?" Elvine said, pointing at the weapons. + +Nan's surprise was genuine. + +"Jeff's in danger." + +"But you--a woman? You can't help. You might even----" + +"Jeff's in danger." + +Nan repeated the words with an emphasis there could be no mistaking. +And as the final syllable escaped her pretty lips became firmly +compressed. + +Elvine regarded her for a silent moment or two. A strange new +sensation was stirring within her. Nan's attitude had brought it into +being. Her earlier emotions receded before this new feeling. And, +strangely enough, she remembered some words her mother had once spoken +to her. It was at a time before she had engaged herself to her husband. + +"But Jeff--is nothing to you," she said abruptly. + +There was a new ring in the voice in which she spoke. + +"Is he?" + +Nan's eyes looked straight into the wife's. There was no smile in +them. There was no emotion lying behind them that Elvine could read. +They were steady, unflinching. That was all. + +Sounds came up from the ranch buildings. Voices reached them plainly. +And among them Bud's dominating tones were raised above all. + +Nan's eyes were drawn in the direction, but her gaze only encountered +the moonless night. + +"What is he--to you?" Elvine's demand was strident. She was roused +from her sense of her own sufferings, her own misery. The newly +awakened emotion had leaped to proportions which threatened to +overwhelm all others. + +Nan's eyes came back to her face. There was something almost reckless +in their regard. There was even a suggestion of derision in them, a +suggestion of triumph. But it was not the triumph over a rival. It +was the triumph of one who realizes her conquest over self. + +"Everything!" she cried. Then she added almost to herself: "Everything +I can think of, have ever dreamed of in life." Then suddenly her voice +rose to a ring of ecstasy. It was the abundance, the purity of her +love, the certainty of victory over self which inspired it. "Ah, Evie, +don't be rattled with what I'm telling you. Ther' surely is no need. +You want to be mad with me. Guess you needn't to be. Jeff don't know +it. He never will know it. I've never had a hope of him since he met +you. He's always been just yours. I don't guess you need to worry a +thing that way. The worrying's for me. I've loved him since ever I +was a child: since ever he came here. Well, you figure he's in +danger--so it's up to those who love him to do. You see, I--well, I +just love him with my whole soul." + +She turned away. The reception of her confession seemed to concern her +not at all. + +Out of the darkness loomed her father's great figure. He was leading +Nan's horse as well as his own. The girl leaped into the saddle, and +he passed his own reins up to her. + +"I shan't be haf a minit," he said. "I need my guns. The boys are +waitin' by the barn." + +He passed into the house. Then Nan observed Elvine. She, too, had +leaped into the saddle. Nor could the girl help being struck by the +manner of her action. + +"You're goin' back home?" she cried. + +Elvine shook her head resolutely. + +"How--then?" + +The wife suddenly urged her horse. It came right up to Nan's with an +almost spasmodic jump, driven by a vicious jab of the woman's spurred +heel. + +The dark eyes were lit with an angry fire as she leaned forward in the +saddle. Her words came in a voice of passionate jealousy. + +"You love him, so you go to him, ready to face anything--for him. Do +you think I don't love him? Do you think I'm not ready to dare for +him--anything? Your love gives you that right. What of mine? Does +mine give me no right? Say, child, your fool conceit runs away with +you. I tell you you don't know what love is. You say you love him +with your whole soul. And you are content to live without him. Psha! +Your soul must be a poor enough thing. I tell you life means nothing +to me without him. I can't and won't live without him." + + * * * * * * + +The black earth sped under the horses' hoofs. The stars shone like dew +on the velvet pall of night. Bud led, as he always led in the things +practical which belonged to his life. + +He needed no thought for guidance on that night journey. Unerring +instinct served him across those wide plains. Spruce Crossing might +have possessed a beacon light, so straight, so unerring was the lead he +offered those behind him. + +Now, perhaps, more than ever, all his great skill was put forth. For +he had listened to the complete, if halting, story of the man's wife, +and shared with her the conviction of treachery. For the time, at +least, all consideration for the woman was thrust aside. He offered no +words of blame. His concern was simply the succor of his friend. + +Nan was ready to follow him whithersoever he led. She was ready to +obey his lightest command, for she understood his skill. She had no +thought for anything but the man she loved. No possibilities of +mischance, no threat to herself could find place in her thought. For +her Jeff's well-being was her single concern. + +Elvine rode beside her, step for step. She had told her story as they +rode. After that silence between them prevailed. It was a silence +fraught with an emotion too deep for any words. A fierce jealousy +mingled with her passionate longing. Her world was empty of all but +two figures. The man she loved, and the girl who had confessed her +love with all the strength of a great, simple courage. + +Whatever the night might bring forth, whatever tragedy might be in +store, she scarcely had thought for anything but her own almost mad +resolve. This girl, this child of the plains, should obtain no +advantage. She was prepared to yield all for the succor of the husband +who had scorned her--even to life itself. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +TO SPRUCE CROSSING + +The eyes of the night were there alone to see. It was as well. There +are moments in men's lives when it is best that it should be so. +Passions are not always sane. They are not always human. + +So it was with Jeffrey Masters. The change in him had been rapid. It +was almost magical. Always one who lacked something of the softer +human qualities, he yet must have been counted a man of balance. If +sympathy, sentiment, were never his strong points, he was by no means +lacking in loyalty, kindliness, rightness of purpose. All his life, +achievement, achievement under the strictest canons of honesty, or +moral scruple, had been the motive urging him. He had seen neither to +the right nor to the left of these things. + +Then had come the woman into his life and the lighting of those natural +fires which belong to all human life. He yielded to them, and the +suddenness of it all seemed to sweep away every cooler method which had +always governed him. There had been no thought, no calculation in his +yielding, such as might have been expected. He was the victim of his +own temperament. His powerful restraint had been suddenly relaxed. +And, for the time, he had been completely overwhelmed by the intensity +of his passion. + +But this passion for the woman who had so suddenly entered his life was +merely the opening of vials of emotion hitherto held sealed. It was no +radical transformation. All that had been his before still remained, +buried perhaps for the moment under the avalanche of feeling, but +nevertheless still occupying its place. These things could not be +swept away. They could not be destroyed. They would remain when the +passionate fires had completely burned themselves out. + +But the unlooked-for had happened. These fires had not been permitted +to burn themselves out. They had been extinguished, deluged out of +existence when the idol of his worship was flung headlong from its +pedestal by the complete revolt of his moral being. His prejudices, +his instincts, matured through years of effort, were the stronger part +of him, and the conflict was decided before it began. The shock of +discovery had brought a terrible reaction. His love was killed under +the blow. And though for a while the sense of overwhelming disaster +had been crushing, the measure of that disaster was taken swiftly. It +left him disillusioned, it left him harder, colder. But it left him +sane. + +These things were not all, however. On this night he had approached +far nearer the hell which only a woman can create for a man than his +first discovery had borne him. The irony of it was perfect. Out of +her great love for him, solely in his interest, in a great desire to +shield him from a danger she saw threatening him, she had contrived to +convince him that she had been as ready to sacrifice him, his +interests, the interests of his friends, as she had been to accept the +price offered for the blood of his twin brother. + +So the eyes of the night looked down upon the haunting figure of a man +who knew neither mercy, nor pity, nor hope. The world of human +happiness had closed its doors upon him, and his whole spirit and body +demanded a fierce retaliation. + +That was the mood which looked out of his coldly shining eyes. That +was the mood which drove the horse under him at a headlong gait, and +left his spurs blood-stained upon his heels. That was the mood that +left him caring nothing for any danger that might lurk under cover of +the starlit dark of night. The fierceness of his temper demanded +outlet. Bodily outlet. Active conflict. Anything, so that a burning +lust for hurt should be satisfied. He cared nothing at all for +himself. No bodily suffering could compare with the anguish of mind he +had passed through, was still passing through. And so he rode headlong +till the youth accompanying him was hard put to it to keep pace with +him. + +The hammering of the horses' hoofs upon the sun-baked earth was a +fitting accompaniment to his mood. The sigh of the night breezes +through the trees was no less desolate than his heart. Nor was the +darkness one whit more dark than the stream of thought which flowed +through his hot brain. + +Not one word did he exchange with the man behind him. In truth the +youth who had brought the summons had no part in the thing that was +happening, at least not in Jeffrey Masters' mind. There was no one +besides himself in this. There was just himself and his goal--whatever +that might bring forth--with a wild, almost insane desire to act +fiercely and without mercy should opportunity offer. + +The land rose and fell, from hill to valley, from valley to hill. The +way lay through avenues of bluff-lined grass, or across hollows of +virgin pasture. Trickling mountain streams barred the way, only to be +passed without a thought of their depth, or the dangers of their +treacherous, sodden banks. The mountain barrier ahead, looming darkly +forbidding in the starlight, with its mazing hollows and woodland +crowns, was incapable of inspiration at the moment. There are moments +when Nature's profoundest awe is powerless to affect the mind of man. +These were such moments. The whole mind of Jeffrey Masters was +absorbed till there was no room for any influence which did not arise +out of the burden of his bitterness. + +But if he were indifferent to his surroundings, the man riding hard +behind him moved with eyes and ears fully alert. That which he was +seeking would have been impossible to tell. Nevertheless every shadow +seemed to possess interest, every night sound to possess some quality +worth remarking. Not for an instant, after the hills had been entered, +did his vigilance relax. + +Spruce Crossing lay deep in the hills, a clearing to the south of the +junction of converging mountain streams. It was a mere cattle station, +neither better nor worse than several others lying on the outskirts of +the Obar territory. Yet it was important that it headed a valley +running north and south amongst the hills, where the grass was sweet, +and rich, and fattening, one of those surprise natural pastures which +the hills love to yield occasionally to those who seek out their wealth. + +A glimmer of light, like some distant star fallen to earth from its +velvet setting above, marked the station, house. It was visible at a +great distance down the flat stretch of the valley. The ranchman's +horse was headed directly for it, and the animal moved readily, eagerly +now, nor were the spurs needed to urge him further. The instinct of +its journey's end was sufficient to encourage its flagging spirits. + +The distant light grew brighter. It took on the rectangular form of a +window opening in a log-built hut. + +Jeffrey Masters had fixed his gaze upon it, and so the shadowy scene +about him passed all unnoticed. He saw nothing of the darker objects +lying on the ground adjacent to his way. The slumbering kine which +bore his brand remained all unheeded. He had no thought for them. His +course took him over a track which passed down a land between two +fenced pastures. These, too, were stocked with fattening steers, or +with the brood cows and their attendant calves. At another time, under +other conditions, these things would have held for him an absorbing +interest. Now they concerned him not at all. + +The dark pastures gave place to a number of corrals, also lost in the +summer night. A dog barked. Then, in a moment, its sharp yelps became +silent, and the stillness became once more unbroken except for the hard +pounding hoofs of the two horsemen approaching. + +A few moments later these sounds ceased as the dark outline of the +station house itself took shape. + +For a few seconds Jeff gazed at the window opening where the light from +within was still shining. A sound had caught and held his attention. +It came from within the hut, and there was no mistaking it. It was the +sound inspired by physical suffering, and the voice that uttered it was +a man's. He sprang out of the saddle and turned to hand his horse to +the man who had accompanied him. But he found himself standing alone. + +With a shrug of the shoulders he left his horse and turned at once to +the hut. Just for an instant he hesitated once more. It was his +thought to look in through the window. The hesitation passed. The +next moment he passed along the lateral log walls to the far end of the +building where he knew the door to be situated. + +The door was closed. He placed his hand on the heavy wooden latch. A +second passed. He glanced over his shoulder. It had occurred to him +to wonder at the sudden going of the youth who had accompanied him. + +But there was neither sight nor sound of the vanished youth. He raised +the latch and swung the door open. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +AN EPIC BATTLE + +The station house was extensive. It was a bunkhouse of lesser +dimensions. + +Jeff's eyes moved swiftly over the dim interior. The remoter corners +of the place were shadowed. But the light was sufficient to yield him +a view of four squalid bunks on which the many-hued blankets were +tumbled. The walls bore signs of personal effort at decoration. There +were photographs over each bunk, tacked up and disfigured by flies. +There were odd prints pasted on the rough log walls, the seams of which +were more or less adequately filled with mud to keep the weather out. + +There were two rough window openings, one in each side wall. The only +entrance or exit was the door at the northern end, through which he had +approached. At the other end, directly opposite this, an oil lamp was +shedding its feeble rays through a well-smoked chimney glass. It was +standing on a small improvised table which divided two bunks set on +wooden trestles. The whole interior was perhaps thirty feet in length +and twelve feet wide, a roomy, unkempt shanty, which served its simple +purpose as a shelter for men unused to any of the comforts of life. + +The object which caught and held Jeff's instant attention was the +figure of the man seated on the side of one of the bunks, beside the +table on which the lamp stood. It was the figure of Sikkem Bruce, +bearing no trace whatever of any mortal injury, and with a look of +wide-eyed surprise upon his evil countenance. + +Jeff moved up the room. He approached without haste. His eyes were +steady, and his expression one of tight-lipped determination. There +was something coldly commanding in his attitude. His fair, bronzed +features, keen, set, displayed no weakening. His body seemed poised +ready for everything that could possibly happen. The latent power and +vigor of his movements were tremendous. He carried no weapons of +defense in view, and his dress was a simple loose jacket over a cotton +shirt, and, for nether garments, a pair of loose riding breeches which +terminated in soft leather top-boots. + +Sikkem's eyes were on him the whole time. There was even some slight +apprehension in them at the sight of that swift, voiceless approach. +Jeff came to a halt before him, and it was the ranch hand who found +speech most necessary. + +"Say, I didn't guess you was gettin' around to-night, boss," he said +with some show of ease. + +"No?" + +"I sure didn't." + +Jeff's retort flashed out. + +"Then what did you send that youngster in for with mouthful of durned +lies?" + +Sikkem stared. But his look was unconvincing. Moments passed before +his reply came, and in those moments the keen eyes of his employer were +busy. The man was still in the working kit of a cowpuncher. Even to +the chapps, and the prairie hat crushed down on his ugly bullet head. +Then, too, his pair of guns were still strapped about his waist. None +of these things escaped Jeff, any more than did the fellow's clumsy +regard. He wondered how much truth--if any--lay behind that mask of +wicked eyes and brutish features. + +"I'm waiting." + +Jeff's demand came with a rasp. The man's delay in reply had conveyed +all he wanted to know of the truth in him. + +"Wot youngster? I tell you I didn't send no one in." There was +truculence in the denial. "Wot's the lies?" + +The ranchman was no match for the keen mind of his employer. In brute +force he might have been more than his equal. But even that was +doubtful. While he was speaking Jeff moved. Up to that moment he had +been facing the foreman with his back turned toward the distant door. +Now his movement placed him against the table with his back to the +other empty bunk, and his focus took in not only the man before him, +but the shadowy outline of the distant half-open door. + +"It's the boy we took on the other day at--your recommendation. Your +recommendation. Get me? Guess he came with the yarn you were shot to +death. You'd located the rustlers' camp. You needed to see me quick." +Jeff's words came swiftly. Then after a pause he added: "You didn't +send him along? Who did?" + +As Jeff watched the man's deliberate shake of the head he became aware +of a muffled sound, somewhere away beyond the door. It was faint, but, +to him, unmistakable. He gave no sign. + +"Where are the other boys?" he demanded. + +"Out on cattle guard." + +The movement beyond the door again penetrated the silence of the hut. +Now it was that the ranchman made his mistake. Only for an instant did +he turn his head and eyes in the direction of the sound. But it was +sufficient. + +Jeff's voice rasped again. + +"Stand up, darn you! Stand up!" + +Sikkem's gaze came back abruptly, and on the instant his right hand +flew to his waist for his guns. But the muzzle of Jeff's revolver was +within a foot of his head, and behind it his coldly shining eyes. + +Sikkem's hand dropped from his waist. He stood up. The law of the gun +was powerfully ingrained upon his mind. + +"Loose those guns at your waist--quick! Let 'em drop on the bunk! +Quick, or I'll pump you full of lead!" + +The deadliness of Jeff's command was irresistible. The power of that +leveled gun indisputable. The buckle was loosened, and the weapons +fell on the blankets behind the ranchman. + +"Now push your hands up! Right up!" + +The command was obeyed on the instant, but the look which accompanied +the movement was as deadly as human passion could make it. + +"Back away! Back to the far end! Sharp!" + +Sikkem moved. But his movement was not rapid enough. Jeff urged him. + +In the pause Jeff's straining ears caught again the sound of movement, +and he wondered why development was not precipitated. Perhaps---- But +Sikkem had nearly reached the distant wall, and, at that instant, a +whistle shrilled through the building. + +Jeff knew he was trapped. But, with a wonderful sense of detachment, +mind and body worked almost electrically. His revolver spat out its +vicious report. For the fraction of a second he held the smoking lamp +poised in his other hand. Then, like a shooting star, it flew through +the adjacent window and fell extinguished amidst the crash of its own +glass. It was at the complete fall of darkness that the door slammed +closed, and half a dozen shots rang out through the building, followed +by the "plonk" of the bullets embedding themselves in the solid logs +immediately behind where the rancher had been standing. + +But Jeff was no longer there. There had been a simultaneous clatter of +falling bunk boards. There was the rustling of straw. Then a sound of +scrambling, and, after that, a dead silence. The darkness was complete +except for the faint silhouette of the windows against the dim +starlight beyond them. + +Jeff had taken the big chance. What remained now must be met as +circumstance permitted. The blood in him was fired. The savage +delight of battle. He would sell the last breath in his body at the +highest price he could make his enemies pay. He had walked into a trap +laid by the rustlers, headed, perhaps, by Sikkem Bruce, with his eyes +wide open, and some almost insane yearning made him glad. + +Now he crouched down against the wall beside the table. He had flung +up a barrier of straw palliasse before him. It was not as a protection +against gun-fire, but to screen his movements should his opponents +produce a light. Then, too, there was another thought in his mind. + +The place became alive with sounds, voiceless, muffled sounds of +cautious movement. It was the movement of men who know that death is +lurking at every turn. Nor could they tell whence it was most likely +to come. It was a moment of tense and straining nerves wherein the wit +of one man had discounted the elaborate plan to murder of those whose +indifference to death only shrank from the contemplation of their own. + +Jeff's eyes strained against the darkness. The windows stood out in +silhouette. From these he had no fear. He knew, and he knew that +these ruffians would know, the dangers attending themselves from any +attack upon him from such a direction. The advantage would be entirely +his, since he had possessed himself of Sikkem's complete arsenal. He +knew it was for him to await the fire of these men, every shot of which +would yield him a sure target. + +A flash broke the blackness ahead of him. The bullet sank into the +woodwork just above his head with a vicious splash. But he refrained +from reply. Another crack split the silence, and the wall to the left +of him flung back its response. Still he offered no reply. + +His eyes were searching, searching. And a surge of excitement suddenly +thrilled him. + +Two shots came on the same instant. One slithered hotly in the flesh +of his shoulder, but the other struck wide of him. + +The wound gave him no concern. Every sense, every faculty was +concentrated on one thought, on one object. A dim, fine-drawn but +uneven line of shadowy light had grown out of the darkness to his now +accustomed eyes. It was vague, so vague that it required the greatest +concentration to detect. But he recognized it for what it was, and a +savage delight possessed him as he observed that there were breaks in +its continuity. The line was waist high, and lateral, and he +interpreted it to suit himself. + +He raised his gun and took steady aim at one of the breaks. His shot +was deliberate, careful, since the sight of his weapon, even the weapon +itself, remained invisible in the dark. He fired, and dropped himself +prone behind his barrier. + +A bitter curse followed by a groan of pain was the answer to his shot. +Then, where that break in the shadowy line of light had been, now the +line was unbroken. + +A fierce glee permeated him. The curse, the moan had been music to +him. But it only required a second before he had the enemy's retort. + +It came with a fusillade. And every shot seemed to find practically +the same spot on the wall. He knew that the flash of his gun had been +the target. He knew he had only escaped by a fraction of time. + +His shoulder stung him. But his will, his savage yearning for the +continuance of the fight, left him disregarding. There was more to +come, and he knew it. Nor did he care how much. The blood was hot in +his brain. No pain, nothing mattered. Again he searched along that +lateral line of light. + +He was reaching out far beyond his retreat. He had stealthily crawled +to the left of the table. Again his weapon was raised against another +break in that telltale line of light, this time at a point where the +angle of the building must be. A moment passed while he judged his +aim. It was by no means easy. Instinct was his only guide. That +instinct which belongs to the man accustomed to the constant use of a +revolver. + +His shot rang out. Again came a cry, inarticulate, fierce. Then +followed the sound of a falling body. Then he let loose a second shot. +But even as it sped he had his answer. Four tongues of flame leaped +out at him in the darkness, and four bullets smote viciously into the +wood behind him. + +His second shot had cost him a sharp penalty. The flesh of his forearm +had been ripped by one of those four bullets and he felt the trickle of +warm blood over the unscored flesh. + +He crouched behind his barrier. The joy of battle for the highest +stakes for which a man can play was undiminished in him. The wounds he +had received left him all unconcerned. In the thrill of the moment he +had no time for them. The desire to kill was strong, and he knew he +could already count two victims. + +But the general in him was foremost, even in the excitement of battle. +The number of his opponents, their next move. These things concerned +him seriously. + +He searched the line of light with eager eyes. He listened to the +sound of movement. These things were all he had to rely on, and on +their accurate reading depended his chances of victory or defeat, with +its certainty of swift death. + +In two places there ware still definite breaks in the line. He knew he +had accounted for two of the enemy. Originally a volley of six shots +had come at him. There were two unaccounted for. Where were these? +They were not standing. + +He looked for no depths of subtlety in the methods of these men. He +understood their ruffianism too well. Therefore the sound of movement +that reached him suggested the obvious result of their first failure. +It was the presage of an attack at close quarters. + +He listened intently. The sounds were of shuffling bodies, moving +uncertainly, possibly fearful of contact with obstruction which might +betray them. And he calculated they were approaching low down along +the side walls, thus hoping to offer the least target possible. If +they reached him the chances would be all against him. They must not +reach him. His decision was promptly taken. + +He raised one of Sikkem's guns. It was heavy, and a sense of pleasure +filled him as he felt the enormous bore of the muzzle with one finger. +Stealthily he raised himself to his full height behind his barrier. He +leveled his gun at a spot just below the right hand window, where the +wall rose up out of the floor. There was no obstacle intervening. + +A moment later the crack of the gun burst through the silence. Then, +on the instant, he flung himself prone across the table. His answer +came like lightning. Four shots. And three of them harmlessly tore +their way into the bowels of the woodwork. The fourth had come from +the direction in which he had aimed. + +A fierce spasm of pain through his chest blinded him mentally and +physically for the moment. But, by an almost superhuman effort, he +recovered himself. He knew he was hit, and hit badly. Something +seemed to have broken inside him, just under his left armpit. + +He forced himself to an upright position and flung out his gun arm. +His eyes were again on the line of light. A fury of recklessness was +urging him. There were the breaks, and he blazed at each in turn, +carefully, deliberately. A moment later two shots came from the right +and left of him, and he dropped down behind his barrier, but not before +he had heard the death-cries of fierce blasphemy at the far end of the +room. + +He lay behind his shelter breathing hard and suffering an agony of +physical pain. The sweat poured down his forehead. It seemed to him +that everything was somehow receding from him, even the sense of his +own danger. In these feelings he realized how near he was to defeat, +and with all his will he set himself to conquer his weakness. A few +moments passed. His pain eased. Then, with all the recklessness of +the gambler, he prepared for his final throw. + +He was certain he had accounted for four of the enemy. Four. He +calculated there were still two remaining. He shifted his position, +moving himself clear of his shelter. A hell of suffering was endured +in the process, and the sweat poured out afresh upon his forehead. He +gritted his teeth with superlative determination and flung back the +dreadful faintness seeking to smother his powers. + +He raised himself to a sitting posture. He sought support from the +wall behind him. Then, with unbroken nerve, he raised both Sikkem's +guns, one in each hand. Without a tremor he held them, and his aim +took in the two points at which he felt the remaining foe were +advancing upon him. Oh, for one moment of light wherein to assure +himself! But the thought passed as it came, followed by a wild, simple +hope that one of his shots might find its billet. + +He pressed the trigger in each hand. He fired rapidly. He fired until +both guns were empty. Then he flung them to the ground with a clatter. +For an instant he thrilled at the sound of a cry of pain, and the +fierce accompanying blasphemy. Then he flung himself down and crawled +to his retreat behind the palliasse, convinced that the cry was in the +voice of Sikkem Bruce. + +His sufferings were well-nigh unendurable. His very breathing caused +him an exquisite pain. He even found himself wondering how much longer +he could endure. + +But his work was not yet finished. If he must die he would die +fighting. + +Now, blending with fresh sounds of movement along the side walls, +another sound added its threat to the quiet of the room. It came from +behind the straw palliasse. There was heavy breathing, almost gasping. +There was a distinct gritting of teeth. But there was also a sound of +the effort which caused these things in the wounded man. There was a +sharp ripping and tearing, the rustle of straw and--something else. +The movements were hasty, desperately hasty. Movements which suggested +the defender's realization of the narrow limits of time before his +powers would become completely exhausted. + +These things lasted a matter of seconds only. Then the threat broke. +The quiet was shocked into desperate action. There was the shout of +human voices. There was the rush and scramble of feet. Then, in the +midst of the tumult, a great tongue of flame leaped up from the heart +of the straw palliasse. + +Its fierce, ruddy light revealed the faces of two men leaping to the +attack of the wounded defender. They were within a yard of their goal. +But even as they were closing upon him they reeled back before the new +terror whose dread was overwhelming even in face of their murderous +lust. + +The flame shot up toward the roof. Jeff staggered to his feet bearing +in his arms the blazing bundle. Higher he raised it. Higher and +higher, till the devouring flame licked at the parched thatch of grass +roof above. It caught in a second. The flames swept up along the +rough rafters till they reached the pitch of the roof. In a moment +great billows of smoke were rolling out of the dry crevices. + +Just for one instant, before the fog closed down upon the whole +interior, Jeff beheld the result of his work. The men had fled toward +the closed door, and, on the ground, against the far wall, he had a +glimpse of five bodies lying crumpled up where his guns had laid them. + +Suddenly a great shout reached him from without. + +"Ho, Jeff! Ho, boy!" + +It was a deep-throated roar which drowned the hiss and crackle of the +blazing straw. + +Jeff's answer rang through the burning structure with all the power of +his lungs. + +"The door! Bust it! Quick, Bud! Bust it, an' stand clear!" + +For answer there was a crash on the woodwork outside. He waited for no +more. With a wild rush through the blinding, choking fog of smoke he +charged down the room. With all his might he flung the blazing +palliasse from his scorched hands. He had no idea of the direction in +which it went. His one desire now was to reach the door as it gave +under the sledge-hammer attacks of the men outside. + +He heard a crash and rending of woodwork. He could see nothing. He +was incapable of further effort. The end had come all too soon. He +staggered blindly, helplessly. His tottering limbs gave under him. +Suffocation gripped him by the throat. He was conscious of the rush of +a figure toward him. The sound of his name shrieked in a woman's +voice. Then there were shots fired. He heard them. And it seemed +there were many of them, and the sound was blurred, and vague, and +distant from his ears. He fell. He knew he fell. For hours it seemed +to him he continued to fall in an abyss of blackness that was wholly +horrifying. It was a blackness peopled with hideous invisible shadows. +So impenetrable was the inky void that even sound had no place in it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +UNDER THE VEIL + +There was no moon. Only a starry sheen lit the night. A wonderful +peace had descended upon the hills. The quiet was the hush of the +still prairie night. Teeming maybe with restless life; but it was a +life invisible, and rarely audible. Nevertheless the hush was merely a +veil. A veil which concealed, but had no power to sweep away the +garnered harvest of violent human passions. + +The figure of a man lay stretched upon his back on the bank of the +river. His head was carefully pillowed. A covering had been spread +over the upper body, as though to hide that which lay beneath, rather +than yield warmth and comfort on the summer night. The covering was a +coat, a woman's coat, and the owner of it sat crouching over her charge. + +Nan stirred. She reached out and tucked the long skirts of the coat +under the man's shoulders with that mother instinct at once so +solicitous, so tender. She shifted her position which had become +cramped with her long vigil. These were moments of darkness, literal +and mental. Her anxiety and dread were almost overwhelming. The +waiting seemed interminable. + +She raised her eyes from her yearning regard of the still, bandaged +head with its pale features. She sighed, as she turned them in another +direction, toward an object lying beneath the shadow of a great red +willow near by. It was a dark object, huddled and, like the other, +quite still. A curious sort of fascination held her for some moments, +then, almost reluctantly, as though impelled by the trend of her +feelings, her gaze wandered in the direction whence was wafted toward +her a pungent reek of burning. It was the dimly outlined skeleton of +the station house, roofless and partly fallen, white-ashed and still +faintly smoking. + +For long moments she regarded this sign of the destruction which had +been wrought. Nor was the sigh which escaped her wholly of regret. A +deep stirring was in her heart. She was thinking of the heroic battle +which the station home had witnessed. She was thinking of the +desperate odds one man had faced within those four walls. She was +thinking, too, of the victory which ultimately had been his. But the +cost. She shuddered. And her eyes came back to the white upturned +features of the man before her. + +She started. The man's eyes were open. Tenderly she raised a hand and +smoothed the cold forehead with its soft palm. Tears of emotion had +gathered in her eyes on the instant. But they did not overflow down +her cheeks. + +The eyes closed again. The lids moved slowly, as though reluctant to +perform their office. The girl literally held her breath. Would they +open again? Or---- Her question was answered almost on the instant. +They reopened. This time even more widely. They were staring straight +up at the starlit sky, quite unmoving. There was no consciousness in +them, and barely life. + +Nan waited for some long apprehensive moments. Her heart was full of a +wild, new-born hope. But fear held her, too. At last she moved. She +withdrew herself gently but swiftly. Then she stood up, a picture of +dapper womanhood in the white shirt-waist and loose riding breeches +which the coat spread over the man's body should have held concealed. +A moment later the darkness swallowed her up as she sped down the trail +which passed near by. + +With her going there crept into the man's vacant eyes the first real +sign of life. + +Five minutes later the girl was back at his side. But she had not +returned alone. Bud was with her, and together they bent over the +prostrate form. The girl was kneeling. She had gently taken +possession of one of the bandaged hands lying inert at the man's side. +Tenderly enough she held it between her own soft palms and chafed it, +while her shining eyes, yielding all the secrets of her devoted heart, +gazed yearningly down into his. + +"Jeff!" she murmured, in a low, eager tone. "Jeff!" + +There was no response. The eyes were fixed and staring. + +Bud had less scruples in his anxious impatience. + +"Say, that ain't no sort o' way to wake him, Nan," he whispered +hoarsely. Then in his deep gruff voice he displayed his better +understanding. "Say, Jeff! You ken hear me, boy. You're jest +foolin'. Say, hark to this. You beat 'em. You beat 'em +single-handed, an' shot 'em plumb down." + +Curiously enough there was almost instant result, and Bud's +satisfaction became evident. The staring eyes relaxed their regard of +the starry heavens. The lids flickered, then the eyes themselves +turned in the direction whence came those sonorous tones. + +"You ken hear?" + +Bud's words came on the instant, and were full of triumph. Then he +turned to the girl who had promptly relinquished Jeff's hand. + +"We ain't got a thing to hand him, 'cep' it's water," he said +half-angrily. "We can't jest move him, not nothin', till the boys git +along with the wagon, an' that blamed dope merchant gits around. What +in hell ken we do?" + +"Wait." + +Nan's finality robbed her father of his complaint. + +"Guess we'll hev to. Say----" + +"Yes?" + +"Do you guess he ken talk if he feels that way?" + +But Nan was no longer giving him any attention. All her thoughts, all +her being was for the man before them. + +A faint tinge of color was creeping under his skin, up to the soft +white wrapping fastened about his fire-scorched forehead. Even in the +starlight it was plainly visible to the girl's eager eyes. There was +something else, too. The look in his eyes had completely changed. To +Nan there was something approaching the shadow of a smile. + +She moved close to his side so that she could reach out and give him +support. Then she gave the father at her side his orders. + +"Get water, Dad--quick!" she demanded. + +Bud demurred. + +"I only got my hat," he said helplessly. + +"It'll do. But get it." + +Bud moved away, with the heavy haste of two hundred and ten pounds of +mental disturbance. + +The moment he had gone a faint sigh escaped the injured man. Nan held +her breath. Would he--speak? She would give worlds to hear the sound +of his voice, She had believed him dying. Now a wild hope surged. If +he would--could speak, it seemed to her simple logic that he must--live. + +"Nan!" + +The word was distinct, but, oh, the weakness of voice. The girl +thrilled. + +"Yes, Jeff. I'm here. I'm right beside you." + +"Tell me--things." + +The girl's heart sank. In a flash she remembered all there was to +tell. Why had his first thoughts on returning life been of +these--things? Yet it was like him--so like him. She drew a deep +breath and resorted to subterfuge. + +"It's as Dad shouted at you just now, Jeff. You beat them +all--lone-handed. But you mustn't talk. Don't worry about them. +Guess they're not worth it. You've been shot up, Jeff, an' Dad an' I +we've just fixed you the best we know, an' the boys have gone right in +for a wagon, an' a doctor. The doc's got to get in from Moose Creek, +twenty miles away. That's what scares me." + +The smile in the man's eyes had deepened. + +"Don't--get--scared, Nan. I'm--not dying." + +The girl thrilled at the assurance in the tired voice. But the thrill +passed as swiftly as it came. She knew what would follow when Jeff had +gathered sufficient strength. + +Sure enough he went on presently: + +"I remember everything--till--I dropped," he said haltingly. "What +happened--after--that? Y'see--I--heard--firing." + +Nan glanced helplessly about her. If only her father would return with +the water! It might help her. She felt that she could not, could not +tell him the things he was demanding of her. + +But again came his demand, and in the tone of it was a sound of peevish +impatience. + +"What--happened--after--Nan? I need--to know." + +"It all came of a rush. I can't just tell it right." + +The man's eyes closed again. He remained silent so long that Nan's +apprehensions reawakened. She even forgot her panic at his persistence. + +"Jeff! Jeff!" + +Her call to him was almost a whisper. But the man heard. His eyes +opened at once. + +"Yes, Nan?" + +The girl laughed a little hysterically. + +"I--I--was----" + +"You thought I----" + +"Yes, yes. But you are--better? Sure?" + +The man's head turned deliberately toward her. There was astonishing +vigor in the movement. + +"Ther's things broke inside me, Nan," he said, in a voice that was +growing stronger. "A rib, I guess. Maybe it's my shoulder. The +others--guess they're just nothing. Now tell me--the things I asked. +How did you happen to git around? Start that way." + +A sense of relief helped the girl. He had given her an opportunity +which she seized upon. + +"Oh, Jeff, it was just thanks to Evie. I guess she saved your life." + +"How?" + +The girl's enthusiasm received a set-back in his tone. + +"She came right along over to us, and told us--everything--the moment +you'd gone. We followed you just as hard as the horses could lay foot +to the ground. Dad an' me, and six of the boys." + +"What did Evie do?" + +"She came along--too." + +"Wher' is she?" + +Nan made no answer. The question was repeated more sharply. + +"Wher' is she?" + +"She's under that red willow--yonder." + +The girl's voice was low. Her words were little more than a whisper. + +"Is she--hurt?" + +"She's--dead." + +At that moment Bud reappeared bearing a hat full clear river water. + +Nan looked up. + +"How can we give it him?" she questioned. Somehow the importance of +the water had lessened in her mind. + +Jeff answered the question himself. + +"I don't need it, Bud," he said. Then he added as an afterthought: +"Thanks." + +Nan looked up at her father who stood doubtfully by. + +"Set it down, Daddy. Then get right along an' look out for the doc, +an' the wagon. Hustle 'em along." + +Bud obeyed unquestioningly. He felt that Nan's understanding of the +situation was better than any ideas of his. He set the hat down for +the water to percolate through the soft felt at its leisure. Then he +moved on. + +The moment he was out of earshot Jeff's voice broke the silence once +more. + +"Nan?" + +"Yes, Jeff?" + +"Wher's the red willow? How far away?" + +"A few yards." + +"Can you help me up?" The question came after a long considering +pause. It came with a certain eagerness. + +But Nan remonstrated with all her might. + +"No, no, Jeff," she cried, in serious alarm. "You mustn't. True you +mustn't. It'll kill you to move now." + +Her appeal was quite without effect. + +"Then I'll have to do it myself." + +Jeff's obstinate decision was immovable, and in the end the girl was +forced to give way. + +The sick man endured five minutes of the intensest agony in the effort +required. Twice he nearly fainted, but, in the end, he stood beside +the somewhat huddled figure under the red willow, gasping under the +excruciation of internal pains. + +"I can lie here, Nan," he said. "Will you--help me?" + +Exerting all her strength the girl helped him to the ground. The +position he had chosen was close to the still form of his dead wife. +Once he was safely resting again, Nan breathed her relief. + +He looked up at her, and something like a smile was in his blue eyes. + +"Thanks, Nan. Say--I'll need that coat of yours--later. Will you go +along--and get it?" + +Nan moved away. She needed no second bidding. Nor did she return +until the man's voice summoned her. + +"Nan!" he called. + +She came to him at once bearing her coat in her hands. For a second, +surprise widened her eyes. He was no longer where she had left him. +He had moved a few yards away. And she wondered how he had been +capable of the unassisted effort. Then she glanced swiftly at the dead +woman. The covering over the body had been moved. She was certain. +It had been replaced differently from the way she had arranged it. She +offered no comment, but busied herself spreading her coat over the +man's bared chest, where the rough bandages had been fastened with her +father's aid. + +Again she seated herself on the ground beside him, but now his face was +turned from her. It was toward the still figure a few yards away. + +"Tell me the rest now, Nan," he said. "She did her--best--to--save me." + +"More than her best. Say, Jeff, she loved you better than life. +That's why she's--there." + +"Tell me." + +A new note had crept into his demand. There was a hush in his voice +which gave his words a curious tenderness, reverence even for the woman +they were speaking of. + +"Guess it must have been over in a minute. Oh, say, it was just the +biggest, blindest, most tremendous thing. It was too awful. She was +so beautiful, too. And then the love in it. I kind of shiver when I +think of it. We heard your shout, Jeff. Evie came right along with +us. She insisted. You see, I'd made her mad. I'd blamed her to her +face. I--I'm sorry now. But, my, she was brave, and how she loved +you! Well, when Bud heard your shout I guess it didn't take him more +than a minute to beat in the door they'd fastened. Him an' the boys. +The rest took seconds. We stood clear, as you said, guessing you meant +a run for it. The place was ablaze. When the door fell we saw it all. +You were near it. Beyond you were two men. Sikkem was one. They were +against the far wall, sideways from the door. They had guns in their +hands. They meant finishing you anyway, whatever happened after. But +there was a bundle of blazing stuff in front of them, an' it seemed to +worry them quite a deal. You started for the door. They got busy to +use their guns right away. Then something happened. We'd forgot Evie. +Guess we were plumb staggered. Something rushed past us, into that +blazing hut. It was Evie, an' she managed to get between you and them +just as you dropped. She fell where she stood. It was the shots +they'd meant for you. Then Bud opened on 'em, the boys did too, and +after that we dragged you and Evie out. Oh, Jeff, she just didn't want +to live without you." + +A great sob broke from the girl, and it found an echo deep down in the +man's heart. Nan buried her face in her hands, and the sound of her +sobs alone broke the stillness. + +The man offered no comment. He made no movement. He lay there with +his clear eyes gazing at the silhouette of that still dark figure +against the mysterious sheen of night. His look gave no key to his +thoughts or emotions. His own physical sufferings even found no +expression in them. But thoughts were stirring, deep thoughts and +emotions which were his alone, and would remain his alone until the end. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE ROUND-UP + +Bud's great bulk blocked the window opening on to the veranda. It was +his favorite vantage point in leisure. The after breakfast pipe +usually found him there. His evening pipe, when the sun was dipping +toward the glistening, fretted peaks of the hills, rarely found him +elsewhere. It was the point from which, in a way, he was able to view +the whole setting of the life that was his. + +The winter had come and gone, vanishing amidst the howling gales of +snow and sleet which never fail to herald the approach of the open +season. It is almost like the last furious onslaught of a despairing +and defeated foe. Now the world was abeat with swift pulsations in +fibre and nerve. The wide valley of Rainbow Hill was stirring with the +vigor of renewed life. Man, beast, fowl, foliage. It was the same. +Spring was in the blood. Spring was in the sap. And all the world was +fresh and ready for the call of the coming year. + +The spring round-up was in full swing with all its ceaseless toil for +the ranching world. Already the pastures were crowded with stock +brought in from distant valleys and grazings. Numberless calves +answered their mothers' calls, and hung to their sides in panic at the +commotion in the midst of which they found themselves. Already +hundreds of them had endured the terrors of the searing irons which +left them indelibly marked as the property of the great Obar Ranch, +while hundreds more were awaiting the same process. + +And the irons and forges were kept going all day. Just as was the +largely augmented band of cattlemen. In ones and twos these hardy +ruffians, many of them "toughs" who worked at no other time of the +year, scoured every hill, and valley, and plain, however remote in the +vast region. Theirs it was to locate the strays to whatever ranch they +belonged, and bring them in to home pastures. The sorting would be +made after and the distribution. For the whole of the round-up was a +commonwealth amongst the growers, and each and everybody was called +upon to do his adequate share in the work. + +Bud was glad. Nor was it without good reason. The busy life was the +life he lived for. And the busy life had been made possible and +complete by the events of the previous summer. + +He was physically weary and yearning for the supper which was still +awaiting Nan's return. But if he were physically tired the feeling did +not extend beyond his muscles. His thoughts were busy as his eyes +gazed out upon the scenes of life and movement which were going on. + +Just now he was thinking of the girl, impatient at the delay of her +return from the pastures, where she was superintending the sorting for +the morrow's branding. Thinking of her quickly carried him to thoughts +of his partner and friend, and thus, by degrees, his mind went back to +the events of the last summer which had left the present operations +free from the threat which had then overshadowed all their efforts. + +It had been a bad time, a bad time for them all. But for Jeff--ah, it +had been touch and go. How near, perhaps, it was only now, after long +months had passed, and a proper perspective had been obtained, that the +full extent of his narrow escape could be estimated. + +It had been Christmas before Jeff was completely out of the hands of +the surgeon they had had to obtain from Calthorpe. For three months of +that time he had hovered between life and death. Nor had his trouble +been confined solely to his physical hurts. No, these had been sore: +they had been grievous in the extreme. Three times wounded, and his +face, and hands, and arms badly burned. But half of his trouble had +been the mental sufferings he had endured as a result of his marriage, +and the final tragedy of Evie's death. + +Now, as Bud looked back on that time, two things stood out beyond all +the rest. It was the desperate courage--even madness he called it--of +Jeff, and the superlative devotion of Nan. + +He had by no means understood all that Jeff had achieved at the moment +of his rescue. It was not till long after, by a process of close +questioning, that the magnitude of it became plain. Then the marvel of +it dawned on him. The courage, the madness of it. Jeff had rid the +district of the whole gang of rustlers single-handed. He had shot five +of them to death, and the last two had fallen victims to his own, +Bud's, gun after they had been wounded by Jeff. + +Then had followed that period when Nan had stepped into the picture. +With pride, and a great satisfaction, he remembered her weeks and +months of devotion to the injured man. Her sleepless, tireless watch. +Her skill and patient tenderness. These things had been colossal. To +him it had been a vision of a mother's tender care for an ailing child. +And the thought of it now stirred him to a touch of bitterness in his +feelings toward his partner and friend. + +To Bud there could only be one possible end to such a wealth of +devotion as his little Nan had displayed, but it seemed that all his +ideas on the subject must be wrong. To his uncomprehending mind they +seemed no nearer to each other than in the days before a mad passion +had seized upon Jeff for the woman he had married. + +Bud was very human. His patience had its limits, and just now they +seemed to have been reached. He admitted this to himself frankly. He +told himself he had "no durned patience with the bunch." And the bunch +included both Nan and Jeff. He felt that Nan, too, must be to blame in +some way. + +He had "no durned patience with the bunch." Therein lay the key-note +of his mixed feelings. Here everything was prospering but the one +thing above all others upon which he had set his heart. He felt as +though he must "butt in" and put matters right himself. How, he did +not attempt to suggest. But he felt that if he did not do so, or +something or other did not occur to precipitate matters, the "whole +durned shootin' match was li'ble to peter." + +This was how he saw things. This was how he felt, as he awaited Nan's +return from the pastures. + +She came at last. She rode up and passed her weary horse to a +barn-hand who promptly waited upon her. She was covered with dust to +her waist. Her top-boots were white with it. But her cheeks were as +fresh as peach bloom, and her soft eyes shone with all a ranchman's +enthusiasm at the most exhilarating period of the year. + +"One hundred an' forty-two young Obars to-day, my Daddy," she cried out +exuberantly. "Ther' don't seem any end to last year's crop. Say, +Jeff's just crazy to death about things." + +"He surely is." + +The old man's reply was tinged by a reflection of his thoughts. But +his eyes lit nevertheless. + +Nan regarded him seriously. + +"Most men get a grouch when they're kept waiting food," she observed +slily. "Say, come right in an' you'll soon feel the world's a mighty +good place to live in." + +Instantly Bud's humor improved. + +"Guess you do your best to make it that way." + +The girl laughed as she led the way in. + +"That surely is a pretty nice talk, my Daddy. Guess I'll take +advantage of it, an' keep you waiting another three minutes while I get +rid of the dust." + +Her father nodded. + +"Jeff comin' up?" he inquired. + +The girl shook her head. For a moment the smiling eyes were hidden +beneath their lids. + +"Not for supper. He's gone on to the branding 'pinch.'" + +She was gone before her father could reply, and he was left to his own +reflections, which were still further inspired by impatience. + +Well enough he knew the arduous nature of the work. Had he not been at +it himself since the first streak of dawn? But he felt that Jeff was +going beyond the bounds of necessity. Even beyond the bounds of reason. + +However, he was not given much time to nurse any imaginary grievance. +For Nan reappeared after a surprisingly short interval, and the +transformation she had achieved was not a little startling. Her dusty +riding suit had given place to a pretty house frock of some softly +clinging material which restored to her at once the charm of her +essential femininity. The pretty brown of her eyes, and the wavy +softness of her hair became indescribably charming in such a setting. +Bud regarded her with warm approval, and his spirits rose. + +"Jeff's coming right up after he's eaten," she said, as they look their +places at the table. "He's getting the food he needs at the bunkhouse. +He guesses he hasn't time to get supper right." + +"Ah." + +The announcement gave Bud more pleasure than his monosyllable admitted. +His eyes once more took in the picture Nan made as she sat behind the +steaming coffee urn at the head of the table. And somehow the change +she had made became less startling. + +The meal was the customary ranch supper. The table was simply loaded +with cold meats, and sweets, and cakes of varied description. The fare +was homely but plentiful, and, to these simple-living people, it was +all that was required. Bud helped himself liberally, while Nan poured +out the fragrant coffee. + +"We ought to be through in a week now," Nan said, passing a heavy china +cup of coffee across to her father. "Jeff figures we're well up on +average in spite of the stock we lost last summer. It's pretty good to +think--after that time. Say, Daddy, we owe Jeff a pretty big thing." + +The old man looked up with a smile. + +"Guess the owin' ain't all with us," he said, with his mouth full. + +Nan paused in the act of sipping her coffee. Her eyes were full of +incredulity. + +"I don't understand, Daddy," she said frankly. "We owe more to Jeff +than ever. Much more. He came pretty near handing over his poor life +so the Obar might prosper. He cleared out that gang who would have +done the Obar to death. A man can't give more to--his friends." + +Bud remained unconvinced. He shook his great head and his smile +deepened to a twinkle of real amusement. + +"That's so," he said. "But he didn't just give that poor life of his. +I allow he was ready to because--because, wal, I guess he's built in a +right fashion. We owed him for that sure. But I 'low he's been paid +in a way it don't fall to every feller's lot to git paid. You paid +that score for us both, an' if ther's any debt left over to be paid, +why I guess I'm ready to pay it." He chuckled. "You know, Nan, +woman's a ticklish proposition. Ther's wise highbrows guess they +handed out all ther' is to say 'bout women-folk, an' I figger some has +used elegant langwidge, an' made pretty talk. But they ain't said it +all, an' ain't never likely to ef they was to yarn the whole way from +here to hell an' back. I'm gettin' older most every day, an' maybe I +oughter git wiser. But ef I was to live till the great round-up I +don't guess I'd ever learn the limits of a woman's self-sacrifice fer +them she takes the notion to mother. An' it don't matter if it's her +own folk, or her beau, or her man, or some pestilential kid she's +rescued from drownin' in a churn of cream she's jest fixed ready fer +butter makin'. Wot Jeff don't owe you fer haulin' him right back into +the midst of life, why I guess you couldn't find with one of them +things crazy highbrows wastes otherwise valuable lives in lookin' at +bugs with." + +Nan laughed, but her denial came swiftly. + +"Jeff doesn't owe me a thing," she declared. "The wasn't a soul else +around to nurse him. I'd have hated handing him on to you." Then she +sighed, but her eyes shone with a light which her father well enough +understood. "I--I needed to nurse him. If I hadn't been able to, why, +I think I'd have just died. But he don't owe me a thing--not a thing." + +Bud took a great gulp of coffee and set his cup down with a clatter. +His deep gurgling laugh was good to hear. + +"That ain't no argyment," he cried, his deep eyes twinkling. "You've +jest said the things I hadn't savvee to put into words right. Woman's +jest a sort of angel come right down from Heaven on a snowflake. She +sure is. Ther' ain't no reason to her. Set her around a sick bed with +physic she ken hand on to the feller lyin' there, an' ther' ain't no +limit to wot she can do. It's a passion. You can't blame her. She's +fixed that way. She'll just nurse that feller in a way that makes him +feel he wants to start right in trundlin' a wooden hoop, or blowin' a +painted trumpet, hanging on to her hand, same as he did before he quit +actin' foolish on his mother's lap. It kind o' seems to me a mortal +wonder women don't set their men-folk actin' queer settin' aside a +railroad track guessin' they're advertisements fer a new hair-wash, or +some other fancy dope. I guess women is the greatest proposition ever +step out o' the Garden of Eden--someways." + +Nan laughed happily. + +"That's spoiled it, Daddy," she cried. "Why not leave it at the Garden +of Eden?" + +Bud laughingly shook his head. + +"Why for should I?" he retorted. "If they're angels they ain't all +halo an' wings. Anyway, she did step out o' the Garden. An' though +the committee ast her to vacate, I allow it was a mighty good thing fer +the human race, or we'd all be eatin' grass still, or some other +perfectly ridiculous cattle feed. No siree! She ain't all halo an' +wings, or us men 'ud be settin' around all the time shoutin' hymns +doleful instead of enjoyin' ourselves lyin' awake at nights figgerin' +to beat the other feller's play. Woman's jest woman, an' the +diff'rences in her is just what a mighty tough world makes of her. +Maybe she's foolish. Maybe she ain't. Anyway, she's got most things +agin her to make her that way, an' it seems to me a yeller dawg don't +have much the worst of the game. No. I guess woman's jest woman, an' +us men needs to git right on our knees and thank Providence that is so." + +Bud reattacked his supper. There had been impatience as well as +amiability in his denial. For all his regard for his partner he could +not allow Nan her absurd self-effacement without protest. None knew +better than he the extent of his debt to Jeff for ridding the Obar of +the rustlers. But Jeff, he also knew, owed his life to the devotion, +the skill, the love of this girl upon whom he had no claim. + +He remained silent now, lost in thoughts he dared not impart to Nan, +and the girl herself had nothing to say. She, too, was thinking. But +there was no impatience in her thoughts. + +She was thinking of a moment which had occurred down at the pastures. +A moment just before her return home to supper. To her it had been a +moment of compensation for everything which she had ever suffered, a +moment when the whole aspect of her life had been suddenly changed to a +radiant vision of happiness. + +She had been standing beside Jeff watching the work of the boys within +the pastures. Their talk had all been of the business of the day. +There had been no other sign between them. The old comradeship alone +seemed to prevail. Then they had turned away, with their talk +silenced. They had moved toward their horses which were standing in +the shadow of a small bluff. + +Just as they came up Jeff had paused, and turned, and looked down at +her from his superior height. She would never forget that look. It +was the look she had seen in his eyes when he first gazed on the beauty +of the woman he had married. Her heart was set thumping in her bosom +as she thought of it now. A deep flush surged to her cheeks, and she +kept her head studiously bent over her plate. + +Then had followed a great impulsive abandoning of his usual reserve. +It had been so unusual in him, but to Nan so natural. It seemed as +though of a sudden some great barrier between them had been thrust +aside by emotions beyond the man's control. He had flung out his hands +toward her, and, before she knew what was happening, she felt their +passionate pressure under the buckskin gauntlets she was wearing. Then +had come words, rapid, even disjointed; again to her so natural, yet +strange, awkward on the lips of this man. + +"Say, little Nan," he cried, "we've won out. Look at 'em. The +pastures. They're full. Fuller than we ever guessed they'd be after +last year. Things are running same as we've dreamed. The Obar's going +up--up. And--it's all too late." + +On the warm impulse of the moment she had answered him without a second +thought. + +"Why--why is it too late?" + +Her hands were still held in his passionate grasp. He laughed a +bitter, mirthless laugh. + +"Why, because--because I've wakened out of a passionate nightmare to +realize all I've--lost." + +She had abruptly withdrawn her hands. She remembered the curious chill +which suddenly seemed to pass through her body. But she answered him +simply, earnestly. + +"You mustn't blame yourself for all you've lost, Jeff," she said. +"Maybe Evie loved you better than you knew. But she--she, too, was to +blame. You must try to forget." + +Then had happened something so startling that even now she could hardly +credit it. Jeff had turned away. His face was toward the hills where +the setting sun still lit the fastnesses in which lay the fateful +Spruce Crossing. His words came shortly, simply. + +"I wasn't thinking of--Evie," he said. "The memory of her, of all +that, has gone--forever." + +Oh, the bewilderment of that moment. Nan remembered the absurdity of +her reply now with something very like panic: + +"Who--what--were you thinking of then?" + +"Who--what?" The man's eyes lit with a deep, passionate yearning. +"Why, little Nan, the only person who is ever in my thoughts now--you." + +It had come so simply yet so full of scarcely restrained passion. +Would she ever forget? Never, never. Her emotions had been beyond +words. She wanted to weep. She wanted to laugh. But more than all +she wanted to flee before he could utter another word. She turned to +her horse without a word. In a moment she was in the saddle, and had +turned the creature about to ride off. But Jeff's voice stayed her. + +"Say, little Nan, I----" he broke off. "Oh, I guess I'll eat at the +bunkhouse. I haven't time for supper right. I've got to get down to +the branding pinch. Say, Nan," a sudden deep urging had filled his +voice, and he came to her horse's side and laid a detaining hand upon +its reins. "Can I come along up--later? I didn't mean to make you +mad. True. I couldn't help it. I---- May I come along--after I get +through?" + +It had been utterly impossible for her to make articulate reply. Her +emotions were too deep, too overwhelming. She had simply nodded her +head. And in that trifling movement she knew she had conveyed a sign +beyond all misunderstanding. + +After that the woman had impelled her. She hurriedly rode off, fearing +she knew not what. She knew she fled, incontinently fled. And her +first act on arrival home had been to rid herself of the almost mannish +suit in which she worked, so that Jeff, when he made his appearance, +might find her the woman she really was. + +The voices of the men on the veranda reached Nan within the parlor. +She did not want to listen. She told herself so. Besides, she had a +perfect right to remain where she was. And, anyway, Bud had no secrets +from her. So she placed herself beyond the chance of observation, and +remained quiet lest she should lose a word of what the voices were +saying. + +Bud was talking. His tone and words rumbled pleasantly upon the +evening air. His talk was of the round-up. It was the talk of a man +wedded to the life of the western plains. It was the talk of a man who +is conscious of success achieved in spite of great difficulties and +trials. There was a deep note of satisfaction in all he said. + +Jeff's voice sounded at intervals. A lighter note. His answers were +precise, as was his way. But they lacked the enthusiasm of the other. +It was as though his thoughts were traveling far afield, while his ears +subconsciously conveyed the other's talk to a brain ready to formulate +adequate reply. + +Apparently, however, this abstraction impressed itself upon the other +at last, for presently Nan heard her father challenge him in his direct +fashion. + +"Feelin' beat, eh?" + +Nan pictured the steady gaze of her father's deep-set inquiring eyes as +he put the question. + +"No." + +The reply came without hesitation. It was simple, definite. Again the +picture presented itself to Nan. Jeff, she felt, was gazing out into +the twilight, absorbed in the thoughts which held him. She knew the +attitude. She had seen it so often before. + +It was Bud's voice which broke the silence that followed. + +"Guess the work's pretty tough," he said. "You don't need to fergit +you bin a mighty sick man. If you do, why, you'll be li'ble to find +yourself on Nan's hands again." + +"I couldn't wish for better." + +The reply had come on the instant. It must have warned even Bud that +he had found a key to the man's abstraction. + +"That's so--sure." + +The emphasis was unmistakable. Nan waited almost breathlessly in a +delicious condition of apprehension. + +"Wher's Nan?" + +Jeff's demand came sharply. + +"Som'eres around inside." + +"I came up to see her." + +"So?" + +"Yes." + +The lowing of the cattle in the pastures was dying with the deepening +twilight. The calves seemed to have found their mothers and all was +contentment. Nan glad of the growing shadows. For her, obscurity the +only thing just now. + +Jeff's voice again broke the silence. There was something utterly +simple in the manner of his words. + +"I love Nan, Bud," he said. "I want to tell her so. If she'd marry +me, I don't guess there'd be a thing left worth asking for. But I +don't guess she will. Why should she? I'm not worth her. Gee! But I +want her bad." + +Nan buried her face in her hands. Then she drew back, back, far into +the dusk of the room. But she could not escape the voices. + +Bud's answer came slowly, deliberately. There was a curious note of +emotion in it. + +"You sure aren't. No man is. Ther' ain't a feller on earth worthy my +little Nan. But it's up to her. Guess she's around inside som'eres." + +There was the sound of swift footsteps on the veranda. Nan drew +further back into the room. The far wall alone stayed her progress. +The door was to her hand, but she made no attempt to avail herself of +it. Oh, those delicious moments of terror. It seemed to her as if +every joy of life was concentrated in them. Her breath came pantingly. +The moments became insupportable. + +Suddenly a figure, tall, slim, filled the open window. Swift as a +flash the mind of the girl went back to the long months of nursing when +he had lain helpless in her hands. He had been hers then in his +helplessness. Now, in his full manhood's strength, he was coming to +her again. A choking sensation seized her, a mist grew before her eyes. + +"Nan!" + +The tone of it The softness. The thrilling passion. + +"Yes, Jeff." + +The answer was low, almost inaudible. + +Nor did the man have to search the darkened room. The love which he +had for so long thrust aside was--waiting for him. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FORFEIT*** + + +******* This file should be named 19371.txt or 19371.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/3/7/19371 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/19371.zip b/19371.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..72fd9ce --- /dev/null +++ b/19371.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ece2b9f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #19371 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19371) |