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diff --git a/26244-h/26244-h.htm b/26244-h/26244-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d9a659 --- /dev/null +++ b/26244-h/26244-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9704 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cavanagh, Forest Ranger, by Hamlin Garland. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.1em} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + div.ce p {text-align: center; margin: auto 0;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + div.la p {text-align: left; margin: auto 0;} + .caption {font-size:.8em} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + hr.tb {width: 35%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + div.ra p {text-align: right; margin: auto 0;} + hr.silver {width: 100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.3em} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cavanagh: Forest Ranger, by Hamlin Garland + +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: Cavanagh: Forest Ranger + A Romance of the Mountain West + +Author: Hamlin Garland + +Release Date: August 9, 2008 [EBook #26244] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAVANAGH: FOREST RANGER *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 400px; height: 267px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 400px;'> +THE RANGER<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.8em; margin-top:2em;'>CAVANAGH</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Forest Ranger</span></p> +<p style=' font-size:1em;'>A ROMANCE</p> +<p style=' font-size:1em; margin-bottom:2em;'>OF THE MOUNTAIN WEST</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>BY</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;'>HAMLIN GARLAND</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>AUTHOR OF</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>“THE CAPTAIN OF THE GRAY-HORSE TROOP”</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:3em;'>“MAIN-TRAVELLED ROADS” ETC.</p> +<p style=' font-size:1em;'>HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>NEW YORK AND LONDON</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>MCMX</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div style='font-size:smaller'> +<p style='text-align:center'> +<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Books by</span><br /> +<span style='font-size:larger;'>HAMLIN GARLAND</span> +</p> + +<table summary=''> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Cavanagh—Forest Ranger</span> </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'> $1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop </span> </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hesper</span> </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Money Magic</span>. Ill'd </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Light of the Star</span>. Ill'd </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Tyranny of the Dark</span>. Ill'd </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Shadow World</span> </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.35</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Main-Travelled Roads</span> </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Prairie Folks</span> </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Rose of Dutcher's Coolly</span> </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Moccasin Ranch</span>. Ill'd </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Trail of the Gold-Seekers</span> </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Long Trail</span>. Ill'd </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Boy Life on the Prairie</span>. Ill'd </td><td>Post 8vo</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td> (In Boys' and Girls' Library)</td><td> </td><td align='right'>.75</td></tr> +</table> + +<p style='text-align:center'> +HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, N. Y.<br /><br /><br /> +Copyright, 1910, by <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hamlin Garland</span><br /> +<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> +Published March, 1910<br /> +<i>Printed in the United States of America</i> +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:0.8em;'> +<p>TO THE FOREST RANGER</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>WHOSE LONELY VIGIL ON</p> +<p>THE HEIGHTS SAFEGUARDS</p> +<p>THE PUBLIC HERITAGE</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Contents</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Desert Chariot</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_THE_DESERT_CHARIOT'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Forest Ranger</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_FOREST_RANGER'>20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Lee Virginia Wages War</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_LEE_VIRGINIA_WAGES_WAR'>35</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Virginia Takes Another Motor Ride</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_VIRGINIA_TAKES_ANOTHER_MOTOR_RIDE'>57</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Two On the Veranda</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_TWO_ON_THE_VERANDA'>80</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Voice from the Heights</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_THE_VOICE_FROM_THE_HEIGHTS'>97</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Poachers</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_THE_POACHERS'>115</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Second Attack</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_THE_SECOND_ATTACK'>132</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Old Sheep-Herder</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_THE_OLD_SHEEPHERDER'>149</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Smoke of the Burning</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_THE_SMOKE_OF_THE_BURNING'>173</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Shadows on the Mist</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_SHADOWS_ON_THE_MIST'>187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Cavanagh’s Last Vigil Begins</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_CAVANAGH_S_LAST_VIGIL_BEGINS'>217</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Cavanagh Asks for Help</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_CAVANAGH_ASKS_FOR_HELP'>230</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Pest-House</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_THE_PESTHOUSE'>247</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Wetherford Passes On</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_WETHERFORD_PASSES_ON'>265</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'> </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Conclusion</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CONCLUSION'>295</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>INTRODUCTION</p> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>My Dear Mr. Garland</span>:—You have been kind +enough to let me see the proofs of <i>Cavanagh: Forest Ranger</i>. +I have read it with mingled feelings—with keen appreciation +of your sympathetic understanding of the problems +which confronted the Forest Service before the Western +people understood it, and with deep regret that I am no +longer officially associated with its work (although I am +as deeply interested, and almost as closely in touch as +ever).</p> +<p>The Western frontier, to the lasting sorrow of all old +hunters like yourself, has now practically disappeared. +Its people faced life with a manly dependence on their +own courage and capacity which did them, and still does +them, high honor. Some of them were naturally slow +to see the advantages of the new order. But now that they +have seen it, there is nowhere more intelligent, convinced, +and effective support of the Conservation policies than +in the West. The establishment of the new order in +some places was not child’s play. But there is a strain of +fairness among the Western people which you can always +count on in such a fight as the Forest Service has made +and won.</p> +<p>The Service contains the best body of young men I +know, and many splendid veterans. It is nine-tenths +made up of Western men. It has met the West on its +own ground, and it has won the contest—an episode of +which you have so well described—because the West believes +in what it stands for.</p> +<p>I have lived much among the Western mountain men. +I have studied their problems; differed with some of them, +and worked with many of them. Sometimes I have lost +and sometimes I have won, but every time the fight was +worth while. I have come out of it all with a respect and +liking for the West which will last as long as I do.</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style=' margin-right:5em;'>Very sincerely yours,</p> +<p style=' margin-right:2em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Gifford Pinchot.</span></p> +</div> + +<div class='la'> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-left:2em;'><i>March</i> 14, 1910.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>Cavanagh: Forest Ranger</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-top:2em;'>Cavanagh: Forest Ranger</p> +</div> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='I_THE_DESERT_CHARIOT' id='I_THE_DESERT_CHARIOT'></a> +<h2>I</h2> +<h3>THE DESERT CHARIOT</h3> +</div> + +<p>Lee Virginia Wetherford began her return journey +into the mountain West with exultation. From the +moment she opened her car-window that August morning +in Nebraska the plain called to her, sustained her +illusions. It was all quite as big, as tawny, as she remembered +it—fit arena for the epic deeds in which her +father had been a leader bold and free.</p> +<p>Her memories of Roaring Fork and its people were +childish and romantic. She recalled, vividly, the stagecoach +which used to amble sedately, not to say wheezily, +from the railway to the Fork and from the Fork back +to the railway, in the days when she had ridden away in +it a tearful, despairing, long-limbed girl, and fully expected +to find it waiting for her at Sulphur City, with old +Tom Quentan still as its driver.</p> +<p>The years of absence had been years of growth, and +though she had changed from child to woman in these +suns and moons, she could not think of the Fork as anything +other than the romantic town she had left—a list +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +wherein spurred and steel-girt cow-men strode lamely +over uneven sidewalks, or swooped, like the red nomads +of the desert, in mad troops through the starlit night.</p> +<p>The first hint of “the new West” came to her by way +of the pretentious Hotel Alma, which stood opposite the +station at Sulphur, and to which she was led by a colored +porter of most elaborate and kindly manners.</p> +<p>This house, which furnished an excellent dinner and +an absorbing mixture of types both American and +European, was vaguely disturbing to her. It was plainly +not of the old-time West—the West her father had +dominated in the days “before the invasion.” It was, +indeed, distinctly built for the tourist trade, and was filled +with all that might indicate the comfortable nearness of +big game and good fishing.</p> +<p>Upon inquiry as to the stage, she was amazed to hear +that an automobile now made the journey to the Fork +in five hours, and that it left immediately after the midday +meal.</p> +<p>This was still more disconcerting than the hotel, but +the closer she came to the ride, the more resigned she +became, for she began to relive the long hours of torture +on the trip outward, during which she had endured +clouds of dust and blazing heat. There were some +disadvantages in the old stage, romantic as her conception +of it had been. Furthermore, the coach had +gone; so she made application for her seat at once.</p> +<p>At two o’clock, as the car came to the door, she entered +it with a sense of having stepped from one invading +chariot of progress to another, so big and shining and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +up to date was its glittering body, shining with brass and +glowing with brave red paint. It was driven, also, by a +small, lean young fellow, whom the cowboys on her +father’s ranch would have called a “lunger,” so thin and +small were his hands and arms. He was quite as far +from old Tom Quentan as the car was from the coach +on which he used to perch.</p> +<p>The owner of the machine, perceiving under Virginia’s +veil a girl’s pretty face, motioned her to the seat with the +driver, and rode beside her for a few minutes (standing +on the foot-board), to inquire if she were visiting friends +in the Fork.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she replied, curtly, “I am.”</p> +<p>Something in her tone discouraged him from further +inquiry, and he soon dropped away.</p> +<p>The seats were apparently quite filled with men, +when at the last moment a middle-aged woman, with +a penetrating, nasal, drawling utterance, inquired if she +were expected to be “squoze in betwixt them two +strange men on that there back seat.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia turned, and was about to greet the woman +as an old acquaintance when something bold and +vulgar in the complaining vixen’s face checked the impulse.</p> +<p>The stage-agent called her “Miss McBride,” and +with exaggerated courtesy explained that travel was +heavy, and that he had not known that she was intending +to go.</p> +<p>One of the men, a slender young fellow, moved to the +middle of the seat, and politely said, “You can sit on +the outside, madam.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span></p> +<p>She clambered in with doleful clamor. “Well, I never +rode in one of these pesky things before, and if you git +me safe down to the Fork I’ll promise never to jump +the brute another time.”</p> +<p>A chuckle went ’round the car; but it soon died out, +for the new-comer scarcely left off talking for the next +three hours, and Virginia was very glad she had not +claimed acquaintanceship.</p> +<p>As they whirled madly down the valley the girl was +astonished at the transformation in the hot, dry land. +Wire fences ran here and there, enclosing fields of alfalfa +and wheat where once only the sage-brush and the grease-wood +grew. Painted farm-houses shone on the banks +of the creeks, and irrigating ditches flashed across the +road with an air of business and decision.</p> +<p>For the first half-hour it seemed as if the dominion of +the cattle-man had ended, but as the swift car drew away +from the valley of the Bear and climbed the divide toward +the north, the free range was disclosed, with few +changes, save in the cattle, which were all of the harmless +or hornless variety, appearing tame and spiritless +in comparison with the old-time half-wild broad-horn +breeds.</p> +<p>No horsemen were abroad, and nothing was heard but +the whirr of the motor and the steady flow of the garrulous +woman behind. Not till the machine was descending +the long divide to the west did a single cowboy come +into view to remind the girl of the heroic past, and this +one but a symbol—a figure of speech. Leaning forward +upon his reeling, foaming steed, he spurred along the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +road as if pursued, casting backward apprehensive +glances, as if in the brassy eyes of the car he read his +doom—the doom of all his kind.</p> +<p>Some vague perception of this symbolism came into +Virginia’s thought as she watched the swift and tireless +wheels swallow the shortening distance between +the heels of the flying pony and the gilded seat in which +she sat. Vain was the attempt to outride progress. The +rider pulled out, and as they passed him the girl found +still greater significance in the fact that he was one of +her father’s old-time cowboys—a grizzled, middle-aged, +light-weight centaur whom she would not have recognized +had not the driver called him by his quaint well-known +nickname.</p> +<p>Soon afterward the motor overhauled and passed the +battered stage lumbering along, bereft of its passengers, +sunk to the level of carrying the baggage for its contemptuous +aristocratic supplanter; and as Lee Virginia +looked up at the driver, she caught the glance of a simple-minded +farm-boy looking down at her. Tom Quentan +no longer guided the plunging, reeling broncos on their +swift and perilous way—he had sturdily declined to +“play second fiddle to a kerosene tank.”</p> +<p>Lee began to wonder if she should find the Fork much +changed—her mother was a bad correspondent.</p> +<p>Her unspoken question, opportunely asked by another, +was answered by Mrs. McBride. “Oh, Lord, yes! Summer +tourists are crawlin’ all over us sence this otto line +began. ’Pears like all the bare-armed boobies and cross-legged +little rips in Omaha and Denver has jest got to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +ride in and look us over. Two of them new hotels in +Sulphur don’t do a thing but feed these tenderfeet. I +s’pose pro-hi-bition will be the next grandstand-play on +the part of our town-lot boomers. We old cow-punchers +don’t care whether the town grows or not, but these +hyer bankers and truck-farmers are all for raisin’ the +price o’ land and taxin’ us quiet fellers out of our boots.”</p> +<p>Virginia winced a little at this, for it flashed over her +that all the women with whom she had grown up spoke +very much in this fashion—using breeding terms almost +as freely as the ranchers themselves. It was natural +enough. What else could they do in talking to men who +knew nothing but cows? And yet it was no longer +wholly excusable even to the men, who laughed openly +in reply.</p> +<p>The mountains, too, yielded their disappointment. +For the first hour or two they seemed lower and less +mysterious than of old. They neither wooed nor +threatened—only the plain remained as vast and as +majestic as ever. The fences, the occasional farms in the +valleys could not subdue its outspread, serene majesty +to prettiness. It was still of desert sternness and breadth.</p> +<p>From all these impersonal considerations the girl was +brought back to the vital phases of her life by the harsh +voice of one of the men. “Lize Wetherford is goin’ +to get jumped one o’ these days for sellin’ whiskey without +a license. I’ve told her so, too. Everybody knows +she’s a-doin’ it, and what beats me is her goin’ along in +that way when a little time and money would set her +straight with the law.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span></p> +<p>The shock of all this lay in the fact that Eliza Wetherford +was the mother to whom Lee Virginia was returning +after ten years of life in the East, and the significance of +the man’s words froze her blood for an instant. There +was an accent of blunt truth in his voice, and the mere +fact that a charge of such weight could be openly made +appalled the girl, although her recollections of her mother +were not entirely pleasant.</p> +<p>The young fellow on the back seat slowly said: “I +don’t complain of Lize sellin’ bad whiskey, but the grub +she sets up is fierce.”</p> +<p>“The grub ain’t so bad; it’s the way she stacks it up,” +remarked another. “But, then, these little fly-bit cow-towns +are all alike and all bad, so far as hotels are +concerned.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia, crimson and burning hot, was in agony +lest they should go further in their criticism.</p> +<p>She knew that her mother kept a boarding-house; +and while she was not proud of it, there was nothing +precisely disgraceful in it—many widowed women found +it the last resort; but this brutal comment on the way in +which her business was carried on was like a slash of mud +in the face. Her joy in the ride, her impersonal exultant +admiration of the mountains was gone, and with flaming +cheeks and beating heart she sat, tense and bent, dreading +some new and keener thrust.</p> +<p>Happily the conversation turned aside and fell upon +the Government’s forest policy, and Sam Gregg, a squat, +wide-mouthed, harsh-voiced individual, cursed the action +of Ross Cavanagh the ranger in the district above the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +Fork. “He thinks he’s Secretary of War, but I reckon +he won’t after I interview him. He can’t shuffle my +sheep around over the hills at his own sweet will.”</p> +<p>The young fellow on the back seat quietly interposed. +“You want to be sure you’ve got the cinch on Cavanagh +good and square, Sam, or he’ll be a-ridin’ <i>you</i>.”</p> +<p>“He certainly is an arbitrary cuss,” said the old woman. +“They say he was one of Teddy’s Rough-riders in +the war. He sure can ride and handle a gun. ’Pears +like he thinks he’s runnin’ the whole range,” she continued, +after a pause. “Cain’t nobody so much as shoot +a grouse since he came on, and the Supervisor upholds +him in it.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia wondered about all this supervision, for +it was new to her.</p> +<p>Gregg, the sheepman, went on: “As I tell Redfield, +I don’t object to the forest policy—it’s a good thing +for me; I get my sheep pastured cheaper than I could +do any other way, but it makes me hot to have grazing +lines run on me and my herders jacked up every time +they get over the line. Ross run one bunch off the +reservation last Friday. I’m going to find out about +that. He’ll learn he can’t get ‘arbitrary’ with me.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia, glancing back at this man, felt sorry +for any one who opposed him, for she recalled him as +one of the fiercest of the cattle-men—one ever ready to +cut a farmer’s fence or burn a sheep-herder’s wagon.</p> +<p>The old woman chuckled: “’Pears like you’ve changed +your tune since ’98, Sam.”</p> +<p>He admitted his conversion shamelessly. “I’m for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +whatever will pay best. Just now, with a high tariff, +sheep are the boys. So long as I can get on the reserve +at seven cents a head—lambs free—I’m going to put +every dollar I’ve got into sheep.”</p> +<p>“You’re going to get thrown off altogether one of +these days,” said the young man on the back seat.</p> +<p>Thereupon a violent discussion arose over the question +of the right of a sheepman to claim first grass for his +flocks, and Gregg boasted that he cared nothing for “the +dead-line.” “I’ll throw my sheep where I please,” he +declared. “They’ve tried to run me out of Deer +Creek, but I’m there to stay. I have ten thousand more +on the way, and the man that tries to stop me will find +trouble.”</p> +<p>The car was descending into the valley of the Roaring +Fork now, and wire fences and alfalfa fields on either +side gave further evidence of the change in the land’s +dominion. New houses of frame and old houses in fresh +paint shone vividly from the green of the willows and +cottonwoods. A ball-ground on the outskirts of the village +was another guarantee of progress. The cowboy +was no longer the undisputed prince of the country fair.</p> +<p>Down past the court-house, refurbished and deeper +sunk in trees, Lee Virginia rode, recalling the wild night +when three hundred armed and vengeful cowboys +surrounded it, holding three cattle-barons and their +hired invaders against all comers, resolute to be their +own judge, jury, and hangman. It was all as peaceful as +a Sunday afternoon at this moment, with no sign of the +fierce passions of the past. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span></p> +<p>There were new store-buildings and cement walks +along the main street of the town, and here and there a +real lawn, cut by a lawn-mower; but as the machine +buzzed on toward the river the familiar little old battlemented +buildings came to view. The Palace Hotel, +half log, half battlement, remained on its perilous site +beside the river. The triangle where the trails met still +held Halsey’s Three Forks Saloon, and next to it stood +Markheit’s general store, from which the cowboys and +citizens had armed themselves during the ten days’ war +of cattle-men and rustlers.</p> +<p>The car crossed the Roaring Fork and drew up before +two small shacks, one of which bore a faded sign, “The +Wetherford House,” and the other in fresher paint, “The +Wetherford Café.” On the sidewalk a group of Indians +were sitting, and a half-dozen slouching white men stood +waiting at the door.</p> +<p>At sight of her mother’s hotel Virginia forgot every +other building, every other object, and when the driver +asked, respectfully, “Where will you want to get off, +miss?” she did not reply, but rose unsteadily in her seat, +blindly reaching for her bag and her wraps. Her slim, +gray-robed figure, graceful even in her dismay, appealed +to every onlooker, but Gregg was the one to offer a hand.</p> +<p>“Allow me, miss,” he said, with the smile of a wolf.</p> +<p>Declining his aid, she took her bag from the driver and +walked briskly up the street as if she were a resident and +knew precisely where she wanted to go. “One o’ those +Eastern tourists, I reckon?” she heard the old woman +say. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></p> +<p>As she went past the hotel-porch her heart beat hard +and her breath shortened. In a flash she divined the +truth. She understood why her mother had discouraged +her coming home. It was not merely on account of the +money—it was because she knew that her business was +wrong.</p> +<p>What a squalid little den it was! How cheap, bald, +and petty the whole town seemed of a sudden. Lee +Virginia halted and turned. There was only one thing +to be done, and that was to make herself known. She +retraced her steps, pulled open the broken screen door, +and entered the café. It was a low, dingy dining-room +filled with the odor of ham and bad coffee. At the tables +ten or fifteen men, a motley throng, were busily feeding +their voracious jaws, and on her left, behind a showcase +filled with cigars, stood her mother, looking old, +unkempt, and worried. The changes in her were so +great that the girl stood in shocked alarm. At last she +raised her veil. “Mother,” she said, “don’t you know +me?”</p> +<p>A look of surprise went over the older woman’s flabby +face—a glow which brought back something of her other +self, as she cried: “Why, Lee Virginny, where did you +come from?”</p> +<p>The boarders stopped chewing and stared in absorbed +interest, while Virginia kissed her blowsy mother.</p> +<p>“By the Lord, it’s little Virginny!” said one old fellow. +“It’s her daughter.”</p> +<p>Upon this a mutter of astonishment arose, and the +waiter-girls, giggling, marvelling, and envious, paused, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +their platters in hand, to exchange comment on the new-comer’s +hat and gown. A cowboy at the washing-sink +in the corner suspended his face-polishing and gaped +over his shoulder in silent ecstasy.</p> +<p>For a full minute, so it seemed, this singular, interesting, +absorbed immobility lasted; then a seedy little man +rose, and approached the girl. His manner was grotesquely +graceful as he said: “We are all glad to greet +you home again, Miss Virginia.”</p> +<p>She gave her hand hesitatingly. “It’s Mr. Sifton, +isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“It is,” he replied; “the same old ha’penny, only a +little more worn—worn, not polished,” he added, with +a smile.</p> +<p>She remembered him then—an Englishman, a remittance +man, a “lord,” they used to say. His eyes were +kind, and his mouth, despite its unshaved stubble of +beard, was refined. A harmless little man—his own +worst enemy, as the saying goes.</p> +<p>Thereupon others of the men came forward to greet +her, and though she had some difficulty in recognizing +one or two of them (so hardly had the years of her +absence used them), she eventually succeeded in placing +them all.</p> +<p>At length her mother led her through the archway +which connected the two shanties, thence along a narrow +hall into a small bedroom, into which the western sunset +fell. It was a shabby place, but as a refuge from +the crowd in the restaurant it was grateful.</p> +<p>Lize looked at her daughter critically. “I don’t know +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +what I’m going to do with a girl like you.—Why, you’re +purty—purty as a picture. You were skinny as a child—I’m +fair dazed. Great snakes, how you have opened +out!—You’re the living image of your dad.—What +started you back? I told you to stay where you +was.”</p> +<p>The girl stared at her helplessly, trying to understand +herself and her surroundings. There was, in truth, +something singularly alien in her mother’s attitude. She +seemed on the defensive, not wishing to be too closely +studied. “Her manner is not even affectionate—only +friendly. It is as if I were only an embarrassing visitor,” +the girl thought. Aloud she said: “I had no place to +go after Aunt Celia died. I had to come home.”</p> +<p>“You wrote they was willing to keep you.”</p> +<p>“They were, but I couldn’t ask it of them. I had +no right to burden them, and, besides, Mrs. Hall wrote +me that you were sick.”</p> +<p>“I am; but I didn’t want you to come back. Lay off +your things and come out to supper. We’ll talk afterward.”</p> +<p>The eating-house, the rooms and hallways, were all +of that desolate shabbiness which comes from shiftlessness +joined with poverty. The carpets were frayed and +stained with tobacco-juice, and the dusty windows were +littered with dead flies. The curtains were ragged, the +paper peeling from the walls, and the plastering cracked +into unsightly lines. Everything on which the girl’s +eyes fell contrasted strongly with her aunt’s home on +the Brandywine—not because that house was large or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +luxurious, but because it was exquisitely in order, and +sweet with flowers and dainty arrangement of color.</p> +<p>She understood now the final warnings uttered by her +friends. “You will find everything changed,” they had +said, “because you are changed.”</p> +<p>She regretted bitterly that she had ever left her +Eastern friends. Her mother, in truth, showed little +pleasure at her coming, and almost nothing of the illness +of which a neighbor had written. It was, indeed, +this letter which had decided her to return to the West. +She had come, led by a sense of duty, not by affection, +for she had never loved her mother as a daughter should—they +were in some way antipathetic—and now she +found herself an unwelcome guest.</p> +<p>Then, too, the West had called to her: the West of her +childhood, the romantic, chivalrous West, the West of +the miner, the cattle-man, the wolf, and the eagle. She +had returned, led by a poetic sentiment, and here now +she sat realizing as if by a flash of inward light that the +West she had known as a child had passed, had suddenly +grown old and commonplace—in truth, it had never +existed at all!</p> +<p>One of the waitresses, whose elaborately puffed and +waved hair set forth her senseless vanity, called from the +door: “You can come out now, your ma says! Your +supper’s ready!”</p> +<p>With aching head and shaking knees Virginia reentered +the dining-room, which was now nearly empty +of its “guests,” but was still misty with the steam of +food, and swarming with flies. These pests buzzed like +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +bees around the soiled places on the table-cloths, and one +of her mother’s first remarks was a fretful apology regarding +her trials with those insects. “Seems like you +can’t keep ’em out,” she said.</p> +<p>Lee Virginia presented the appearance of some “settlement +worker,” some fair lady on a visit to the poor, as +she took her seat at the table and gingerly opened the +small moist napkin which the waiter dropped before her. +Her appetite was gone. Her appetite failed at the very +sight of the fried eggs and hot and sputtering bacon, and +she turned hastily to her coffee. A fly was in that! She +uttered a little choking cry, and buried her face in her +handkerchief and sobbed.</p> +<p>Lize turned upon the waitress and lashed her with +stinging phrases. “Can’t you serve things better than +this? Take that cup away! My God, you make me +tired—fumblin’ around here with your eyes on the men! +Pay more attention to your work and less to your crimps, +and you’ll please me a whole lot better!”</p> +<p>With desperate effort Lee conquered her disgust. +“Never mind, I’m tired and a little upset. I don’t need +any dinner.”</p> +<p>“The slob will go, just the same. I’ve put up with +her because help is scarce, but here’s where she gits off!”</p> +<p>In this moment Virginia perceived that her mother was +of the same nature with Mrs. McBride—not one whit +more refined—and the gulf between them swiftly widened. +Hastily sipping her coffee, she tried hard to keep back +the tears, but failed; and no sooner did her mother turn +away than she fled to her room, there to sob unrestrainedly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +her despair and shame. “Oh, I can’t stand it,” she +called. “I can’t! I can’t!”</p> +<p>Outside, the mountains deepened in splendor, growing +each moment more mysterious and beautiful under the +sunset sky, but the girl derived no comfort from them. +Her loneliness and her perplexities had closed her eyes +to their majestic drama. She felt herself alien and +solitary in the land of her birth.</p> +<p>Lize came in half an hour later, pathetic in her attempt +at “slicking up.” She was still handsome in a large-featured +way, but her gray hair was there, and her face +laid with a network of fretful lines. Her color was +bad. At the moment her cheeks were yellow and +sunken.</p> +<p>She complained of being short of breath and lame +and tired. “I’m always tired,” she explained. “’Pears +like sometimes I can’t scarcely drag myself around, but +I do.”</p> +<p>A pang of comprehending pain shot through Virginia’s +heart. If she could not love, she could at least +pity and help; and reaching forth her hand, she patted +her mother on the knee. “Poor old mammy!” she said. +“I’m going to help you.”</p> +<p>Lize was touched by this action of her proud daughter, +and smiled sadly. “This is no place for you. It’s +nothin’ but a measly little old cow-town gone to seed—and +I’m gone to seed with it. I know it. But what is a +feller to do? I’m stuck here, and I’ve got to make a +living or quit. I can’t quit. I ain’t got the grit to eat +a dose, and so I stagger along.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></p> +<p>“I’ve come back to help you, mother. You must let +me relieve you of some of the burden.”</p> +<p>“What can you do, child?” Lize asked, gently.</p> +<p>“I can teach.”</p> +<p>“Not in this town you can’t.”</p> +<p>“Why not?”</p> +<p>“Well, there’s a terrible prejudice against—well, +against me. And, besides, the places are all filled for +the next year. The Wetherfords ain’t among the first +circles any more.”</p> +<p>This daunted the girl more than she could express, +but she bravely made advance. “But there must be +other schools in the country.”</p> +<p>“There are—a few. But I reckon you better pull out +and go back, at least, to Sulphur; they don’t know so +much about me there, and, besides, they’re a little more +like your kind.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia remembered Gregg’s charge against her +mother. “What do you mean by the prejudice against +you?” she asked.</p> +<p>Lize was evasive. “Since I took to running this +restaurant my old friends kind o’ fell off—but never +mind that to-night. Tell me about things back East. +I don’t s’pose I’ll ever get as far as Omaha again; I used +to go with Ed every time I felt like it. He was good to +me, your father. If ever there was a prince of a man, +Ed Wetherford was him.”</p> +<p>The girl’s thought was now turned into other half-forgotten +channels. “I wish you would tell me more +about father. I don’t remember where he was buried.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></p> +<p>“Neither do I, child—I mean I don’t know exactly. +You see, after that cattle-war, he went away to Texas.”</p> +<p>“I remember, but it’s all very dim.”</p> +<p>“Well, he never came back and never wrote, and by-and-by +word came that he had died and was buried; +but I never could go down to see where his grave was at.”</p> +<p>“Didn’t you know the name of the town?”</p> +<p>“Yes; but it was a new place away down in the Pan +Handle, and nobody I knew lived there. And I never +knew anything more.”</p> +<p>Lee sighed hopelessly. “I hate to think of him lying +neglected down there.”</p> +<p>“’Pears like the whole world we lived in in them days +has slipped off the map,” replied the older woman; and +as the room was darkening, she rose and lighted a dusty +electric globe which dangled from the ceiling over the +small table. “Well, I must go back into the restaurant; +I hain’t got a girl I can trust to count the cash.”</p> +<p>Left alone, Lee Virginia wept no more, but her face +settled into an expression of stern sadness. It seemed +as if her girlhood had died out of her, and that she was +about to begin the same struggle with work and worry +which had marked the lives of all the women she had +known in her childhood.</p> +<p>Out on the porch a raw youth was playing wailing +tunes on a mouth-organ, and in the “parlor” a man +was uttering silly jokes to a tittering girl. The smell of +cheap cigars filled the hallway and penetrated to her +nostrils. Every sight and sound sickened her. “Can +it be that the old town, the town of my childhood, was of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +this character—so sordid, so vulgar?” she asked herself. +“And mother—what is the matter with her? She is +not even glad to see me!”</p> +<p>Weary with her perplexities, she fastened her door +at last, and went to bed, hoping to end—for a few hours, +at least—the ache in her heart and the benumbing whirl +of her thought.</p> +<p>But this respite was denied her. Almost at once she +began to fancy that a multitudinous minute creeping +and stirring was going on about her—in her hair, over +her neck, across her feet. For a time she explained this +by reference to her disordered nerves, but at last some +realization of the truth came to her, and she sprang out +upon the floor in horror and disgust. Lighting the lamp, +she turned to scrutinize her couch. It swarmed with +vermin. The ceiling was spattered with them. They +raced across the walls in platoons, thin and voracious as +wolves.</p> +<p>With a choking, angry, despairing moan she snatched +her clothing from the chair and stood at bay. It needed +but this touch to complete her disillusionment.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='II_THE_FOREST_RANGER' id='II_THE_FOREST_RANGER'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +<h2>II</h2> +<h3>THE FOREST RANGER</h3> +</div> + +<p>From her makeshift bed in the middle of the floor +Lee Virginia was awakened next morning by the passing +of some one down the hall calling at each door, “Six +o’clock!” She had not slept at all till after one. +She was lame, heart-weary, and dismayed, but she rose +and dressed herself as neatly as before. She had decided +to return to Sulphur. “I cannot endure this,” +she had repeated to herself a hundred times. “I <i>will</i> +not!”</p> +<p>Hearing the clatter of dishes, she ventured (with +desperate courage) into the dining-room, which was +again filled with cowboys, coal-miners, ranchers and +their tousled families, and certain nondescript town +loafers of tramp-like appearance. The flies were nearly +as bad as ever—but not quite, for under Mrs. Wetherford’s +dragooning the waiters had made a nerveless +assault upon them with newspaper bludgeons, and a few +of them had been driven out into the street.</p> +<p>Slipping into a seat at the end of the table which +offered the cleanest cloth, Lee Virginia glanced round +upon her neighbors with shrinking eyes. All were shovelling +their food with knife-blades and guzzling their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +coffee with bent heads; their faces scared her, and she +dropped her eyes.</p> +<p>At her left, however, sat two men whose greetings were +frank and manly, and whose table-manners betrayed a +higher form of life. One of them was a tall man with a +lean red face against which his blond mustache lay +like a chalk-mark. He wore a corduroy jacket, cut in +Norfolk style, and in the collar of his yellow shirt a green +tie was loosely knotted. His hands were long and +freckled, but were manifestly trained to polite usages.</p> +<p>The other man was younger and browner, and of a +compact, athletic figure. On the breast of his olive-green +coat hung a silver badge which bore a pine-tree +in the centre. His shirt was tan-colored and rough, but +his head was handsome. He looked like a young officer +in the undress uniform of the regular army. His +hands were strong but rather small, and the lines of his +shoulders graceful. Most attractive of all were his eyes, +so brown, so quietly humorous, and so keen.</p> +<p>In the rumble of cheap and vulgar talk the voices of +these men appealed to the troubled girl with great charm. +She felt more akin to them than to any one else in the +room, and from time to time she raised her eyes to their +faces.</p> +<p>They were aware of her also, and their gaze was +frankly admiring as well as wondering; and in passing +the ham and eggs or the sugar they contrived to show +her that they considered her a lady in a rough place, and +that they would like to know more about her.</p> +<p>She accepted their civilities with gratitude, and listened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +to their talk with growing interest. It seemed that the +young man had come down from the hills to meet his +friend and take him back to his cabin.</p> +<p>“I can’t do it to-day, Ross,” said the older man. “I +wish I could, but one meal of this kind is all I can stand +these days.”</p> +<p>“You’re getting finicky,” laughed the younger man.</p> +<p>“I’m getting old. Time was when my fell of hair +would rise at nothing, not even flies in the butter, but +now—”</p> +<p>“That last visit to the ancestral acres is what did it.”</p> +<p>“No, it’s age—age and prosperity. I know now what +it is to have broiled steak.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Wetherford, seizing the moment, came down +to do the honors. “You fellers ought to know my girl. +Virginny, this is Forest Supervisor Redfield, and this is +Ross Cavanagh, his forest ranger in this district. You +ought to know each other. My girl’s just back from +school, and she don’t think much of the Fork. It’s a +little too coarse for her.”</p> +<p>Lee flushed under this introduction, and her distress +was so evident that both men came to her rescue.</p> +<p>The older man bowed, and said: “I didn’t know you +had a daughter, Mrs. Wetherford,” and Cavanagh, +with a glance of admiration, added: “We’ve been wondering +who you might be.”</p> +<p>Lize went on: “I thought I’d got rid of her. +She’s been away now for about ten years. I don’t +know but it was a mistake—look’s like she’s grown a +little too fine-haired for us doughies out here.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span></p> +<p>“So much the worse for us,” replied Redfield.</p> +<p>This little dialogue gave the girl time to recover herself, +but as Cavanagh watched the blush fade from her face, +leaving it cold and white, he sympathized with her—pitied +her from the bottom of his heart. He perceived that +he was a chance spectator of the first scene in a painful +domestic drama—one that might easily become a tragedy. +He wondered what the forces might be which had brought +such a daughter to this sloven, this virago. To see a maid +of this delicate bloom thrust into such a place as Lize +Wetherford’s “hotel” had the reputation of being +roused indignation.</p> +<p>“When did you reach town?” he asked, and into his +voice his admiration crept.</p> +<p>“Only last night.”</p> +<p>“You find great changes here?”</p> +<p>“Not so great as in my mother. It’s all——” She +stopped abruptly, and he understood.</p> +<p>Lize being drawn back to her cash-register, Redfield +turned to say: “My dear young lady, I don’t suppose you +remember me, but I knew you when you were a tot of +five or six. I knew your father very well.”</p> +<p>“Did you?” Her face lighted up.</p> +<p>“Yes, poor fellow, he went away from here rather +under a cloud, you know.”</p> +<p>“I remember a little of it. I was here when the +shooting took place.”</p> +<p>“So you were. Well, since then much has happened +to us all,” he explained to the ranger. “There wasn’t +room for a dashing young blood such as Ed Wetherford +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +was in those days.” He turned to Lee. “He was no +worse than the men on the other side—it was dog eat +dog; but some way the people rather settled on him as +a scapegoat. He was forced out, and your mother has +borne the brunt of it since. Those were lawless days.”</p> +<p>It was a painful subject, and Redfield’s voice grew +lower and more hesitant as he went on. Looking at +this charming girl through the smoke of fried ham, with +obscene insects buzzing about her fair head, made him +feel for the thousandth time, and more keenly than ever +before, the amazing combinations in American society. +How could she be the issue of Edward and Eliza Wetherford?</p> +<p>More and more Lee Virginia’s heart went out in trust +toward these two men. Opposed to the malodorous, +unshaven throng which filled the room, they seemed +wondrously softened and sympathetic, and in the ranger’s +gaze was something else—something which made +her troubles somehow less intolerable. She felt that he +understood the difficult situation in which she found +herself.</p> +<p>Redfield went on. “You find us horribly uncivilized +after ten years’ absence?”</p> +<p>“I find <i>this</i> uncivilised,” she replied, with fierce intensity, +looking around the room. Then, on the impulse, +she added: “I can’t stand it! I came here to live with +my mother, but this is too—too horrible!”</p> +<p>“I understand your repulsion,” replied Redfield. “A +thousand times I repeat, apropos of this country, ‘Where +every prospect pleases and only man is vile.’” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span></p> +<p>“Do you suppose it was as bad ten years ago?” she +asked. “Was everything as dirty—as mean? Were the +houses then as full of flies and smells?”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid they were. Of course, the country isn’t +all like this, and there are neat homes and gentle people +in Sulphur; but most cattle-men are—as they’ve always +been—a shiftless, happy-go-lucky lot at best—and some +of them have been worse, as you know.”</p> +<p>“I never dreamed of finding my mother in such a +place,” she went on. “I don’t know what to do or say. +She isn’t well. I ought to stay and help her, and yet—oh, +it is disheartening!”</p> +<p>Lize tapped Redfield on the shoulder. “Come over +here, Reddy, if you’ve finished your breakfast; I want +to talk with you.”</p> +<p>Redfield rose and followed his landlady behind the +counter, and there sat in earnest conversation while she +made change. The tone in which her mother addressed +the Supervisor, her action of touching him as one man +lays hand upon another, was profoundly revealing to +Lee Virginia. She revolted from it without realizing +exactly what it meant; and feeling deeply but vaguely +the forest ranger’s sympathy, she asked:</p> +<p>“How <i>can</i> you endure this kind of life?”</p> +<p>“I can’t, and I don’t,” he answered, cautiously, for +they were being closely observed. “I am seldom in +town; my dominion is more than a mile above this +level. My cabin is nine thousand feet above the sea. +It is clean and quiet up there.”</p> +<p>“Are all the other restaurants in the village like this?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></p> +<p>“Worse. I come here because it is the best.”</p> +<p>She rose. “I can’t stand this air and these flies any +longer. They’re too disgusting.”</p> +<p>He followed her into the other house, conscious of the +dismay and bitterness which burst forth the instant they +were alone. “What am I to do? She is my mother, +but I’ve lost all sense of relationship to her. And these +people—except you and Mr. Redfield—are all disgusting +to me. It isn’t because my mother is poor, it isn’t because +she’s keeping boarders; it’s something else.” At +this point her voice failed her.</p> +<p>The ranger, deeply moved, stood helplessly silent. +What could he say? He knew a great deal better than +she the essential depravity of her mother, and he felt +keenly the cruelty of fate which had plunged a fine +young spirit into this swamp of ill-smelling humanity.</p> +<p>“Let us go out into the air,” he suggested, presently. +“The mountain wind will do you good.”</p> +<p>She followed him trustfully, and as she stepped from +the squalor of the hotel into the splendor of the morning +her head lifted. She drank the clear, crisp wind as one +takes water in the desert.</p> +<p>“The air is clean, anyway,” she said.</p> +<p>Cavanagh, to divert her, pointed away to the mountains. +“There is my dominion. Up there I am sole +ruler. No one can litter the earth with corruption or +poison the streams.”</p> +<p>She did not speak, but as she studied the ranger her +face cleared. “It <i>is</i> beautiful up there.”</p> +<p>He went on. “I hate all this scrap-heap quite as heartily +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +as you do, but up there is sweetness and sanity. The +streams are germless, and the forest cannot be devastated. +That is why I am a ranger. I could not endure life in +a town like this.”</p> +<p>He turned up the street toward the high hill to the +south, and she kept step with him. As she did not speak, +he asked: “What did you expect to do out here?”</p> +<p>“I hoped to teach,” she replied, her voice still choked +with her emotion. “I expected to find the country much +improved.”</p> +<p>“And so it is; but it is still a long way from an Eastern +State. Perhaps you will find the people less savage than +they appear at first glance.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t the town or the people, it is my mother!” +she burst forth again. “Tell me! A woman in the car +yesterday accused my mother of selling whiskey unlawfully. +Is this so? Tell me!”</p> +<p>She faced him resolutely, and perceiving that she +could not be evaded, he made slow answer. “I don’t +<i>know</i> that she does, but I’ve heard it charged against +her.”</p> +<p>“Who made the charge?”</p> +<p>“One of the clergymen, and then it’s common talk +among the rough men of the town.”</p> +<p>“Is that the worst they say of her? Be honest with +me—I want to know the worst.”</p> +<p>He was quite decisive as he said: “Yes, that is the +worst.”</p> +<p>She looked relieved. “I’m glad to hear you say so. +I’ve been imagining all kinds of terrifying things.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></p> +<p>“Then, too, her bad health is some excuse for her +housekeeping,” he added, eager to lessen the daughter’s +humiliation, “and you must remember her associations +are not those which breed scrupulous regard for the +proprieties.”</p> +<p>“But she’s my mother!” wailed the girl, coming back +to the central fact. “She has sent me money—she has +been kind to me—what am I to do? She needs me, and +yet the thought of staying here and facing her life frightens +me.”</p> +<p>The rotten board walks, the low rookeries, the unshaven, +blear-eyed men sitting on the thresholds of the +saloons, the slattern squaws wandering abroad like bedraggled +hens, made the girl stare with wonder and dismay. +She had remembered the town street as a highway +filled with splendid cavaliers, a list wherein heroic deeds +were done with horse and pistol.</p> +<p>She recognized one of those “knights of the lariat” sitting +in the sun, flabby, grizzled, and inert. Another was +trying to mount his horse with a bottle in his hand. She +recalled him perfectly. He had been her girlish ideal +of manly beauty. Now here he was, old and mangy with +drink at forty. In a most vivid and appealing sense he +measured the change in her as well as the decay of the +old-time cowboy. His incoherent salutation as his eyes +fell upon her was like the final blasphemous word from +the rear-guard of a savage tribe, and she watched him +ride away reeling limply in his saddle as one watches a +carrion-laden vulture take its flight.</p> +<p>She perceived in the ranger the man of the new order, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +and with this in her mind she said: “You don’t belong +here? You’re not a Western man.”</p> +<p>“Not in the sense of having been born here,” he replied. +“I am, in fact, a native of England, though I’ve +lived nearly twenty years of my life in the States.”</p> +<p>She glanced at his badge. “How did you come to be a +ranger—what does it mean? It’s all new to me.”</p> +<p>“It is new to the West,” he answered, smilingly, glad +of a chance to turn her thought from her own personal +griefs. “It has all come about since you went East. +Uncle Sam has at last become provident, and is now +‘conserving his resources.’ I am one of his representatives +with stewardship over some ninety thousand acres +of territory—mostly forest.”</p> +<p>She looked at him with eyes of changing light. “You +don’t talk like an Englishman, and yet you are not like +the men out here.”</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t care to be like some of them,” he answered. +“My being here is quite logical. I went into the +cattle business like many another, and I went broke. +I served under Colonel Roosevelt in the Cuban War, and +after my term was out, naturally drifted back. I love the +wilderness and have some natural taste for forestry, and +I can ride and pack a horse as well as most cowboys, +hence my uniform. I’m not the best forest ranger in the +service, I’ll admit, but I fancy I’m a fair average.”</p> +<p>“And that is your badge—the pine-tree?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and I am proud of it. Some of the fellows are +not, but so far as I am concerned I am glad to be known +as a defender of the forest. A tree means much to me. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +I never mark one for felling without a sense of responsibility +to the future.”</p> +<p>Her questions came slowly, like those of a child. +“Where do you live?”</p> +<p>“Directly up the South Fork, about twenty miles.”</p> +<p>“What do you do?”</p> +<p>He smiled. “Not much. I ride the trails, guard the +game, put out fires, scale lumber, burn brush, build +bridges, herd cattle, count sheep, survey land, and a few +other odd chores. It’s supposed to be a soft snap, but +I can’t see it that way.”</p> +<p>“Do you live alone?”</p> +<p>“Yes, for the larger part of the time. I have an +assistant who is with me during part of the summer +months. Mostly I am alone. However, I am supposed +to keep open house, and I catch a visitor now and then.”</p> +<p>They were both more at ease now, and her unaffected +interest pleased him.</p> +<p>She went on, steadily: “Don’t you get very lonely?”</p> +<p>“In winter, sometimes; in summer I’m too busy to +get lonely. In the fire season I’m in the saddle every +day, and sometimes all night.”</p> +<p>“Who cooks for you?”</p> +<p>“I do. That’s part of a ranger’s job. We have no +‘servant problem’ to contend with.”</p> +<p>“Do you expect to do this always?”</p> +<p>He smiled again. “There you touch my secret spring. +I have the hope of being Chief Forester some time—I +mean we all have the prospect of promotion to sustain us. +The service is so new that any one with even a knowledge +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +of forestry is in demand; by and by real foresters will +arise.”</p> +<p>She returned abruptly to her own problem. “I dread +to go back to my mother, but I must. Oh, how I hate +that hotel! I loathe the flies, the smells, the people +that eat there, the waiters—everything!” She shuddered.</p> +<p>“Many of the evils you mention could be reformed—except, +of course, some of the people who come to eat. +I fear several of them have gone beyond reformation.”</p> +<p>As they started back down the street she saw the +motor-stage just leaving the door of the office. “That +settles one question,” she said. “I can’t get away till +to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“Where would you go if you broke camp—back to +the East?”</p> +<p>“No; my mother thinks there is a place for me in +Sulphur City.”</p> +<p>“Your case interests me deeply. I wish I could advise +you to stay, but this is a rough town for a girl like +you. Why don’t you talk the problem over with the +Supervisor?” His voice became firmer. “Mrs. Redfield +is the very one to help you.”</p> +<p>“Where does she live?”</p> +<p>“Their ranch lies just above Sulphur, at the mouth +of the Canon. May I tell him what you’ve told me? +He’s a good sort, is Redfield—much better able to advise +than I am.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh found himself enjoying the confidence of +this girl so strangely thrown into his care, and the curious +comment of the people in the street did not disturb +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +him, except as it bore upon his companion’s position in +the town.</p> +<p>At the door of the hotel some half-a-dozen men were +clustered. As the young couple approached they gave +way, but a short, powerful man, whom Lee Virginia +recognized as Gregg the sheepman, called to the +ranger:</p> +<p>“I want to see you before you leave town, Mr. Ranger.”</p> +<p>“Very well. I shall be here all the forenoon,” answered +Cavanagh, in the tone of a man accepting a +challenge; then, turning to the girl, he said, earnestly: +“I want to help you. I shall be here for lunch, and meanwhile +I wish you would take Redfield into your confidence. +He’s a wise old boy, and everybody knows him. +No one doubts his motives; besides, he has a family, +and is rich and unhurried. Would you like me to talk +with him?”</p> +<p>“If you will. I want to do right—indeed I do.”</p> +<p>“I’m sure of that,” he said, with eyes upon her flushed +and quivering face. “There’s a way out, believe me.”</p> +<p>They parted on the little porch of the hotel, and her +eyes followed his upright figure till he entered one of the +shops. He had precisely the look and bearing of a young +lieutenant in the regular army, and she wondered what +Gregg’s demand meant. In his voice was both menace +and contempt.</p> +<p>She returned to her own room, strangely heartened by +her talk with the ranger. “If I stay here another night +this room must be cleaned,” she decided, and approached +the bed as though it harbored venomous reptiles. “This +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +is one of the things that must be reformed,” she decided, +harking back to the ranger’s quiet remark.</p> +<p>She was still pondering ways and means of making +the room habitable when her mother came in.</p> +<p>“How’d you sleep last night?”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia could not bring herself to lie. “Not very +well,” she admitted.</p> +<p>“Neither did I. Fact of the matter is your coming +fairly upset me. I’ve been kind o’ used up for three +months. I don’t know what ails me. I’d ought to go +up to Sulphur to see a doctor, but there don’t seem to be +any free time. I ’pear to have lost my grip. Food +don’t give me any strength. I saw you talking with +Ross Cavanagh. There’s a man—and Reddy. Reddy +is what you may call a fancy rancher—goes in for alfalfy +and fruit, and all that. He isn’t in the forest service for +the pay or for graft. He’s got a regular palace up there +above Sulphur—hot and cold water all through the +house, a furnace in the cellar, and two bath-rooms, so +they tell me; I never was in the place. Well, I must +go back—I can’t trust them girls a minute.” She turned +with a groan of pain. “’Pears like every joint in me is +a-creakin’ to-day.”</p> +<p>“Can’t I take your place?” asked Lee Virginia, pity +deepening in her heart as she caught the look of suffering +on her mother’s face.</p> +<p>“No; you better keep out o’ the caffy. It ain’t a fit +place for you. Fact is, I weren’t expecting anything so +fine as you are. I laid awake till three o’clock last night +figurin’ on what to do. I reckon you’d better go back and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +give this outfit up as a bad job. I used to tell Ed you +didn’t belong to neither of us, and you don’t. I can’t +see where you <i>did</i> come from—anyhow, I don’t want the +responsibility of havin’ you here. Why, you’ll have half +the men in the county hitchin’ to my corral—and the +males out here are a fierce lot o’ brutes.” She studied the +girl again, finding her so dainty, so far above herself, +that she added: “It would be a cruel shame for me to keep +you here, with all these he-wolves roamin’ around. +You’re too good to be meat for any of them. You just +plan to pack up and pull out to-morrow.”</p> +<p>She went out with a dragging step that softened the +girl’s heart. It was true there was little of real affection +between them. Her memories of Eliza up to this moment +had been rather mixed. As a child she had seldom +been in her arms, and she had always been a little afraid +of the bold, bright, handsome creature who rode horses +and shot pistols like a man. It was hard to relate the +Eliza Wetherford of those days with this flabby, limping +old woman, and yet her daughter came nearer to loving +her at this moment than at any time since her fifth year.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='III_LEE_VIRGINIA_WAGES_WAR' id='III_LEE_VIRGINIA_WAGES_WAR'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +<h2>III</h2> +<h3>LEE VIRGINIA WAGES WAR</h3> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>In</span> truth, Lize had risen that morning intending “to +whirl in and clean up the house,” being suddenly conscious +to some degree of the dirt and disorder around her, +but she found herself physically unequal to the task. +Her brain seemed misted, and her food had been a source +of keen pain to her. Hence, after a few half-hearted +orders, she had settled into her broad chair behind the +counter and there remained, brooding over her maternal +responsibilities.</p> +<p>She gave sharp answers to all the men who came up to +ask after her daughter, and to one who remarked on the +girl’s good looks, and demanded an introduction, she +said: “Get along! I’d as soon introduce her to a goat. +Now you fellers want to understand I’ll kill the man that +sets out to fool with my girl, I tell you that!”</p> +<p>While yet Lee Virginia was wondering how to begin the +day’s work, some one knocked on her door, and in answer +to her invitation a woman stepped in—a thin blond hag +with a weak smile and watery blue eyes. “Is this little +Lee Virginy?” she asked.</p> +<p>The girl rose. “Yes.”</p> +<p>“Well, howdy!” She extended her hand, and Lee took +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +it. “My name’s Jackson—Mrs. Orlando Jackson. I +knew yore pa and you before ‘the war.’”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia dimly recalled such a family, and asked: +“Where do you live?”</p> +<p>“We hole up down here on a ranch about twenty +miles—stayed with yore ma last night—thought I’d jest +nacherly look in and say howdy. Are ye back fer to +stay?”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t think so. Will you sit down?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Jackson took a seat. “Come back to see how +yore ma was, I reckon? Found her pretty porely, didn’t +ye?” She lowered her voice. “I think she’s got cancer +of the stummick—now that’s my guess.”</p> +<p>Virginia started. “What makes you think so?”</p> +<p>“Well, I knew a woman who went just that way. Had +that same flabby, funny look—and that same distress +after eatin’, I told her this mornin’ she’d better go up +to Sulphur and see that new doctor. You see, yore ma +has always been a reckless kind of a critter—more like a +man than a woman, God knows—an’ how she ever got +a girl like you I don’t fairly understand. I reckon you +must be what the breedin’ men call ‘a throw-back,’ for +yore pa wa‘n’t much to brag of, ‘ceptin’ for looks—he +certainly was good-lookin’. He used to sober down when +he got where you was; but my—good God!—weren’t they +a pair to draw to? I’ve heard ’Lando tell tales of yore +ma’s doin’s that would ’fright ye. Not that she fooled +with men,” she hastened to say. “Lord, no! For her +the sun rose and set in Ed Wetherford. She’d leave you +any day, and go on the round-up with him. It nigh +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +about broke her up in business when Ed hit the far-away +trail.”</p> +<p>The girl perceived that in her visitor she had one of +these self-oiled human talking-machines “with tongue +hung in the middle,” as the old saying goes, and she was +dimly conscious of having heard her many times before. +“You don’t look very well yourself,” she said.</p> +<p>“Me? Oh, I’m like one o’ these Injun dawgs—can’t +kill me. I’ve been on the range so long I’m tough as +dried beef. It’s a fierce old place for a woman—or it +was before ‘the war’—since then it’s kind o’ softened +down a hair.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean by ‘the war’?”</p> +<p>“Why, you remember the rustler war? We date +everything out here from that year. You was here, for +I saw ye—a slob of a child.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” exclaimed Virginia. “I understand now. Yes, +I was here. I saw my father at the head of the cowboys.”</p> +<p>“They weren’t cowboys; they were hired killers from +Texas. That’s what let yore pa out o’ the State. He +were on the wrong side, and if it hadn’t ‘a’ been for the +regular soldiers he’d ‘a’ been wiped out right hyer. As +it was he had to skip the range, and hain’t never been +back. I don’t s’pose folks will lay it up agin you—bein’ +a girl—but they couldn’t no <i>son</i> of Ed Wetherford come +back here and settle, not for a minute. Why, yore ma +has had to bluff the whole county a’most—not that <i>I</i> lay +anything up agin her. I tell folks she was that bewitched +with Ed she couldn’t see things any way but +his way. She fought to save his ranch and stawk and—but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +hell! she couldn’t do nothin’—and then to have him +go back on her the way he did—slip out ’twixt two +days, and never write; that just about shot her to pieces. +I never could understand that in Ed, he ’peared so mortally +fond of you and of her, too. He sure was fond of +you!” She shook her head. “No, can’t anybody make +me believe Ed Wetherford is alive.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia started. “Who says he’s alive?”</p> +<p>“Now don’t get excited, girl. He ain’t alive; but +yet folks say we don’t <i>know</i> he’s dead. He jest dropped +out so far as yore ma is concerned, and so far as the +county is concerned; but some thought you was with +him in the East.”</p> +<p>The girl was now aware that her visitor was hoping +to gain some further information, and so curtly answered: +“I’ve never seen my father since that night the soldiers +came and took him away to the fort. And my mother +told me he died down in Texas.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Jackson seemed a little disappointed, but she +smoothed the dress over her sharp knees, and continued: +“Right there the good old days ended for yore ma—and +for us. The cattle business has been steadily on the +chute—that is, the free-range business. I saw it comin’, +an’ I says to Jackson, ‘Camp on some river-bottom and +chuck in the alfalfy,’ I says. An’ that’s what we did. +We got a little bunch o’ cattle up in the park—Uncle +Sam’s man is lookin’ after ’em.” She grinned. “Jackson +kicked at the fee, but I says: ‘Twenty cents a head +is cheap pasture. We’re lucky to get any grass at +all, now that everybody’s goin’ in for sheep. ’Pears +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +like the sheepmen air gettin’ bolder and bolder in this +free-range graft, and I’m a-bettin’ on trouble.’” She +rose. “Well, I’m glad to ’ve had a word with ye; but +you hear me: yore ma has got to have doctor’s help, or +she’s a-goin’ to fall down some day soon.”</p> +<p>Every word the woman uttered, every tone of her +drawling voice, put Lee Virginia back into the past. +She heard again the swift gallop of hooves, saw once more +the long line of armed ranchers, and felt the hush of fear +that lay over the little town on that fateful day. The +situation became clearer in her mind. She recalled +vividly the words of astonishment and hate with which +the women had greeted her mother on the morning when +the news came that Edward Wetherford was among the +invading cattle-barons—was, indeed, one of the leaders.</p> +<p>In Philadelphia the Rocky Mountain States were +synonyms of picturesque lawlessness, the theatre of +reckless romance, and Virginia Wetherford, loyal daughter +of the West, had defended it; but in the coarse phrase +of this lean rancheress was pictured a land of border +warfare as ruthless as that which marked the Scotland of +Rob Roy.</p> +<p>Commonplace as the little town looked at the moment, +it had been the scene of many a desperate encounter, as +the girl herself could testify, for she had seen more than +one man killed therein. Some way the hideousness of +these scenes had never shown itself to her—perhaps because +she had been a child at the time, and had thrilled +to the delicious excitement of it; but now, as she imagined +it all happening again before her eyes, she shivered with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +horror. How monstrous, how impossible those killings +now seemed!</p> +<p>Then her mind came back to her mother’s ailment. +Eliza Wetherford had never been one to complain, and +her groans meant real suffering.</p> +<p>Her mind resolved upon one thing. “She must see a +doctor,” she decided. And with this in mind she reentered +the café, where Lize was again in violent altercation +with a waitress.</p> +<p>“Mother,” called Lee, “I want to see you.”</p> +<p>With a parting volley of vituperation, Mrs. Wetherford +followed her daughter back into the lodging-house.</p> +<p>“Mother,” the girl began, facing her and speaking +firmly, “you must go to Sulphur City and see a doctor. +I’ll stay here and look after the business.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Wetherford perceived in her daughter’s attitude +and voice something decisive and powerful. She sank +into a chair, and regarded her with intent gaze. “Hett +Jackson’s been gabblin’ to you,” she declared. “Hett +knows more fool things that ain’t so than any old heffer +I know. She said I was about all in, didn’t she? Prophesied +I’d fall down and stay? I know her.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia remained firm. “I’m not going by what +she said, I’ve got eyes of my own. You need help, and if +the doctor here can’t help you, you must go to Sulphur +or to Kansas City. I can run the boarding-house till you +get back.”</p> +<p>Eliza eyed her curiously. “Don’t you go to countin’ +on this ‘chivalry of the West’ which story-writers put into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +books. These men out here will eat you up if you don’t +watch out. I wouldn’t dare to leave you here alone. +No, what I’ll do is sell the place, if I can, and both of us +get out.”</p> +<p>“But you need a doctor this minute.”</p> +<p>“I’ll be all right in a little while; I’m always the worst +for an hour or two after I eat. This little squirt of a +local doctor gave me some dope to ease that pain, but +I’ve got my doubts—I don’t want any morphine habit in +mine. No, daughter Virginny, it’s mighty white of you +to offer, but you don’t know what you’re up against when +you contract to step into my shoes.”</p> +<p>Visions of reforming methods about the house passed +through the girl’s mind. “There must be something I +can do. Why don’t you have the doctor come down +here?”</p> +<p>“I might do that if I get any worse, but I hate to have +you stay in the house another night. It’s only fit for +these goats of cowboys and women like Hett Jackson. +Did the bugs eat you last night?”</p> +<p>Virginia flushed. “Yes.”</p> +<p>Eliza’s face fell. “I was afraid of that. You can’t +keep ’em out. The cowboys bring ’em in by the quart.”</p> +<p>“They can be destroyed—and the flies, too, can’t +they?”</p> +<p>“When you’ve bucked flies and bugs as long as I +have, you’ll be less ’peart about it. I don’t care a hoot +in Hades till somebody like you or Reddy or Ross comes +along. Most of the men that camp with me are like +Injuns, anyway—they wouldn’t feel natural without +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +bugs a ticklin’ ’em. No, child, you get ready and pull +out on the Sulphur stage to-morrow. I’ll pay your way +back to Philadelphy.”</p> +<p>“I can’t leave you now, mother. Now that I know +you’re ill, I’m going to stay and take care of you.”</p> +<p>Lize rose. “See here, girl, don’t you go to idealizin’ +me, neither. I’m what the boys call an old battle-axe. +I’ve been through the whole war. I’m able to feed myself +and pay your board besides. Just you find some +decent boarding-place in Sulphur, and I’ll see that you +have ten dollars a week to live on, just because you’re +a Wetherford.”</p> +<p>“But I’m your daughter!”</p> +<p>Again Eliza fixed a musing look upon her. “I reckon +if the truth was known your aunt Celia was nigher to +being your mother than I ever was. They always said +you was all Wetherford, and I reckon they were right. +I always liked men better than babies. So long as I +had your father, you didn’t count—now that’s the God’s +truth. And I didn’t intend that you should ever come +back here. I urged you to stay—you know that.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia imagined all this to be a savage self-accusation +which sprang from long self-bereavement, +and yet there was something terrifying in its brutal +frankness. She stood in silence till her mother left the +room, then went to her own chamber with a painful knot +in her throat. What could she do with elemental savagery +of this sort?</p> +<p>The knowledge that she must spend another night in +the bed led her to active measures of reform. With disgustful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +desperation, she emptied the room and swept it +as with fire and sword. Her change of mind, from the +passive to the active state, relieved and stimulated her, +and she hurried from one needed reform to another. +She drew others into the vortex. She inspired the +chambermaid to unwilling yet amazing effort, and the +lodging-house endured such a blast from the besom +that it stood in open-windowed astonishment uttering +dust like the breath of a dragon. Having swept and +garnished the bed-chambers, Virginia moved on the +dining-room. As the ranger had said, this, too, could +be reformed.</p> +<p>Unheeding her mother’s protests, she organized the +giggling waiters into a warring party, and advanced upon +the flies. By hissing and shooing, and the flutter of +newspapers, they drove the enemy before them, and +a carpenter was called in to mend screen doors and windows, +thus preventing their return. New shades were +hung to darken the room, and new table-cloths purchased +to replace the old ones, and the kitchen had +such a cleaning as it had not known before in five +years.</p> +<p>In this work the time passed swiftly, and when Redfield +and Cavanagh came again to lunch they exclaimed +in astonishment—as, indeed, every one did.</p> +<p>“How’s this?” queried Cavanagh, humorously. “Has +the place ’changed hands?’”</p> +<p>Lize was but grimly responsive. “Seem’s like it has.”</p> +<p>“I hope the price has not gone up?”</p> +<p>“Not yet.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></p> +<p>Redfield asked: “Who’s responsible for this—your +new daughter?”</p> +<p>“You’ve hit it. She’s started right in to polish us all +up to city standards.”</p> +<p>“We need it,” commented Cavanagh, in admiration of +the girl’s prompt action. “This room is almost civilized, +still we’ll sort o’ miss the flies.”</p> +<p>Lize apologized. “Well, you know a feller gits kind o’ +run down like a clock, and has to have some outsider +wind him up now and again. First I was mad, then I +was scared, but now I’m cheerin’ the girl on. She can +run the whole blame outfit if she’s a mind to—even if I +go broke for it. The work she got out o’ them slatter-heels +of girls is a God’s wonder.”</p> +<p>Ross looked round for Virginia, but could not find her. +She had seen him come in, and was out in the kitchen +doing what she could to have his food brought in and +properly served.</p> +<p>Redfield reassured the perturbed proprietor of “the +joint.” “No fear of going broke, madam—quite the +contrary. A few little touches like this, and you’ll be +obliged to tear down and build bigger. I don’t believe +I’d like to see your daughter run this eating-house as +a permanent job, but if she starts in I’m sure she’ll make +a success of it.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia came in flushed and self-conscious, but +far lighter of spirit than at breakfast; and stood beside +the table while the waitress <i>laid</i> the dishes before her +guests with elaborate assumption of grace and design. +Hitherto she had bumped them down with a slash of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +slangy comment. The change was quite as wonderful +as the absence of the flies.</p> +<p>“Do we owe these happy reforms to you?” asked +Cavanagh, admiring Virginia’s neat dress and glowing +cheeks.</p> +<p>“Partly,” she answered. “I was desperate. I had +to do something, so I took to ordering people around.”</p> +<p>“I understand,” he said. “Won’t you sit at our table +again?”</p> +<p>“Please do,” said Redfield. “I want to talk with you.”</p> +<p>She took a seat—a little hesitantly. “You see, I +studied Domestic Science at school, and I’ve never had +a chance to apply it before.”</p> +<p>“Here’s your opportunity,” Redfield assured her. +“My respect for the science of domestics is growing—I +marvel to think what another week will bring forth. +I think I’ll have to come down again just to observe the +improvement in the place.”</p> +<p>“It can’t last,” Lize interjected. “She’ll catch the +Western habits—she’ll sag, same as we all do.”</p> +<p>“No she won’t,” declared Ross, with intent to encourage +her. “If you give her a free hand, I predict she’ll +make your place the wonder and boast of the county-side.”</p> +<p>“When do you go back to the mountains?” Lee Virginia +asked, a little later.</p> +<p>“Immediately after my luncheon,” he replied.</p> +<p>She experienced a pang of regret, and could not help +showing it a little. “Your talk helped me,” she said; +“I’ve decided to stay, and be of use to my mother.”</p> +<p>Redfield overheard this, and turned toward her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></p> +<p>“This is a rough school for you, Lee Virginia, and I +should dislike seeing you settle down to it for life: but it +can’t hurt you if you are what I think you are. Nothing +can soil or mar the mind that wills for good. I want +Mrs. Redfield to know you; I’m sure her advice will be +helpful. I hope you’ll come up and see us if you decide +to settle in Sulphur—or if you don’t.”</p> +<p>“I should like to do so,” she said, touched by the tone +as well as by the words of his invitation.</p> +<p>“Redfield’s house is one of the few completely civilized +homes in the State,” put in Cavanagh. “When I get so +weary of cuss-words and poaching and graft that I can’t +live without killing some one, I go down to Elk Lodge +and smoke and read the Supervisor’s London and Paris +weeklies and recover my tone.”</p> +<p>Redfield smiled. “When I get weak-kneed or careless +in the service and feel my self-respect slipping away, I +go up to Ross’s cabin and talk with a man who represents +the impersonal, even-handed justice of the Federal law.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh laughed. “There! Having handed each +other reciprocal bouquets, we can now tell Miss Wetherford +the truth. Each of us thinks very well of himself, +and we’re both believers in the New West.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean by the New West?” asked the +girl.</p> +<p>“Well, the work you’ve been doing here this morning +is a part of it,” answered Redfield. “It’s a kind of housecleaning. +The Old West was picturesque and, in a way, +manly and fine—certain phases of it were heroic—and I +hate to see it all pass, but some of us began to realize that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +it was not all poetry. The plain truth is my companions +for over twenty years were lawless ruffians, and the cattle +business as we practiced it in those days was founded on +selfishness and defended at the mouth of the pistol. We +were all pensioners on Uncle Sam, and fighting to keep +the other fellow off from having a share of his bounty. +It was all wasteful, half-savage. We didn’t want settlement, +we didn’t want law, we didn’t want a State. We +wanted free range. We were a line of pirates from beginning +to end, and we’re not wholly, reformed yet.”</p> +<p>He was talking to the whole table now, for all were +listening. No other man on the range could say these +things with the same authority, for Hugh Redfield was +known all over the State as a man who had been one of the +best riders and ropers in his outfit—one who had started +in as a common hand at herding, and who had been entirely +through “the war.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia listened with a stirring of the blood. Her +recollections of the range were all of the heroic. She +recalled the few times when she was permitted to go on +the round-up, and to witness the breaking of new horses, +and the swiftness, grace, and reckless bravery of the +riders, the moan and surge of herds, the sweep of horsemen, +came back and filled her mind with large and free +and splendid pictures. And now it was passing—or +past!</p> +<p>Some one at the table accused Redfield of being more +of a town-site boomer than a cattle-man.</p> +<p>He was quite unmoved by this charge. “The town-site +boomer at least believes in progress. He does not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +go so far as to shut out settlement. If a neat and tidy +village or a well-ordered farmstead is not considered +superior to a cattle-ranch littered with bones and tin +cans, or better than even a cow-town whose main industry +is whiskey-selling, then all civilized progress is +a delusion. When I was a youngster these considerations +didn’t trouble me. I liked the cowboy life and the careless +method of the plains, but I’ve some girls growing +up now, and I begin to see the whole business in a new +light. I don’t care to have my children live the life I’ve +lived. Besides, what right have we to stand in the way +of a community’s growth? Suppose the new life <i>is</i> less +picturesque than the old? We don’t like to leave behind +us the pleasures and sports of boyhood; but we +grow up, nevertheless. I’m far more loyal to the State +as Forest Supervisor than I was when I was riding with +the cattle-men to scare up the nester.”</p> +<p>He uttered all this quite calmly, but his ease of manner, +his absolute disregard of consequences, joined with +his wealth and culture, gave his words great weight and +power. No one was ready with an answer but Lize, +who called out, with mocking accent: “Reddy, you’re too +good for the Forest Service, you’d ought ’o be our next +Governor.”</p> +<p>This was a centre shot. Redfield flushed, and Cavanagh +laughed. “Mr. Supervisor, you are discovered!”</p> +<p>Redfield recovered himself. “I should like to be +Governor of this State for about four years, but I’m +likelier to be lynched for being in command of twenty +‘Cossacks.’” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span></p> +<p>At this moment Sam Gregg entered the room, followed +by a young man in an English riding-suit. Seeing that +“the star-boarder table” offered a couple of seats, they +pointed that way. Sam was plainly in war-like frame +of mind, and slammed his sombrero on its nail with the +action of a man beating an adversary.</p> +<p>“That is Sam Gregg and his son Joe—used to be +ranch cattle-man, now one of our biggest sheepmen,” +Cavanagh explained. “He’s bucking the cattle-men now.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia studied young Gregg with interest, for +his dress was that of a man to whom money came easy, +and his face was handsome, though rather fat and sullen. +In truth, he had been brought into the room by his +father to see “Lize Wetherford’s girl,” and his eyes at +once sought and found her. A look of surprise and +pleasure at once lit his face.</p> +<p>Gregg was sullen because of his interview with Cavanagh, +which had been in the nature of a grapple; and in +the light of what Redfield had said, Lee Virginia was able +to perceive in these two men a struggle for supremacy. +Gregg was the greedy West checked and restrained by +the law.</p> +<p>Every man in the room knew that Gregg was a bitter +opponent of the Forest Service, and that he “had it in” +for the ranger; and some of them knew that he was +throwing more sheep into the forest than his permits +allowed, and that a clash with Redfield was sure to +come. It was just like the burly old Irishman to go +straight to the table where his adversary sat.</p> +<p>Virginia’s eyes fell before the gaze of these two men, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +for they had none of the shyness or nothing of the indirection +of the ruder men she had met. They expressed +something which angered her, though she could not have +told precisely why.</p> +<p>Redfield did not soften his words on Gregg’s account; +on the contrary he made them still more cutting and to +the line.</p> +<p>“The mere fact that I live near the open range or a +national forest does not give me any <i>rights</i> in the range or +forest,” he was saying, as Gregg took his seat. “I enjoy +the <i>privilege</i> of these Government grazing grounds, and +I ought to be perfectly willing to pay the fee. These +forests are the property of the whole nation; they are +public lands, and should yield a revenue to the whole +nation. It is silly to expect the Government to go on enriching +a few of us stockmen at the expense of others. +I see this, and I accept the change.”</p> +<p>“After you’ve got rich at it,” said Gregg.</p> +<p>“Well, haven’t you?” retorted Redfield. “Are you +so greedy that nothing will stop you?”</p> +<p>Lize threw in a wise word. “The sporting-houses of +Kansas City and Chicago keep old Sam poor.”</p> +<p>A roar of laughter followed this remark, and Gregg +was stumped for a moment; but the son grinned appreciatively. +“Now be good!”</p> +<p>Cavanagh turned to Virginia in haste to shield her +from all that lay behind and beneath this sally of the older +and deeply experienced woman. “The Supervisor is +willing to yield a point—he knows what the New West +will bring.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span></p> +<p>Gregg growled out: “I’m not letting any of my rights +slip.”</p> +<p>The girl was troubled by the war-light which she saw +in the faces of the men about her, and vague memories +of the words and stories she had overchanced to hear +in her childhood came back to her mind—hints of the +drunken orgies of the cowboys who went to the city with +cattle, and the terrifying suggestion of their attitude +toward all womankind. She set Cavanagh and his chief +quite apart from all the others in the room, and at first +felt that in young Gregg was another man of education +and right living—but in this she was misled.</p> +<p>Lize had confidence enough in the ranger to throw in +another malicious word. “Ross, old Bullfrog came down +here to chase you up a tree—so he said. Did he do it?”</p> +<p>Gregg looked ugly. “I’m not done with this business.”</p> +<p>She turned to Ross. “Don’t let him scare you—his +beller is a whole lot worse than his bite.”</p> +<p>This provoked another laugh, and Gregg was furious—all +the more so that his son joined in. “I’ll have your +head, Mr. Supervisor; I’ll carry my fight to the Secretary.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” returned Redfield, “carry it to the President +if you wish. I simply repeat that your sheep must +correspond to your permit, and if you don’t send up and +remove the extra number I will do it myself. I don’t +make the rules of the department. My job is to carry +them out.”</p> +<p>By this time every person in the room was tense with +interest. They all knew Gregg and his imperious +methods. He was famous for saying once (when in his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +cup): “I always thought sheepmen were blankety +blank sons of guns, and now I’m one of ’em I <i>know</i> they +are.” Some of the cattle-men in the room had suffered +from his greed, and while they were not partisans of the +Supervisor they were glad to see him face his opponent +fearlessly.</p> +<p>Lize delivered a parting blow. “Bullfrog, you and +me are old-timers. We’re on the losing side. We belong +to the ‘good old days’ when the Fork was ‘a man’s +town,’ and to be ‘shot up’ once a week kept us in news. +But them times are past. You can’t run the range that +way any more. Why, man, you’ll have to buy and fence +your own pasture in a few years more, or else pay rent +same as I do. You stockmen kick like steers over paying +a few old cents a head for five months’ range; you’ll +be mighty glad to pay a dollar one o’ these days. Take +your medicine—that’s my advice.” And she went back +to her cash-drawer.</p> +<p>Redfield’s voice was cuttingly contemptuous as he +said quite calmly: “You’re all kinds of asses, you +sheepmen. You ought to pay the fee for your cattle +with secret joy. So long as you can get your stock +pastured (and in effect guarded) by the Government +from June to November for twenty cents, or even fifty +cents, per head you’re in luck. Mrs. Wetherford is right: +we’ve all been educated in a bad school. Uncle Sam has +been too bloomin’ lazy to keep any supervision over his +public lands. He’s permitted us grass pirates to fight +and lynch and burn one another on the high range (to +which neither of us had any right), holding back the real +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +user of the land—the farmer. We’ve played the part of +selfish and greedy gluttons so long that we fancy our +privileges have turned into rights. Having grown rich +on free range, you’re now fighting the Forest Service +because it is disposed to make you pay for what has +been a gratuity. I’m a hog, Gregg, but I’m not a +fool. I see the course of empire, and I’m getting into +line.”</p> +<p>Gregg was silenced, but not convinced. “It’s a long +lane that has no turn,” he growled.</p> +<p>Redfield resumed, in impersonal heat. “The cow-man +was conceived in anarchy and educated in murder. +Whatever romantic notions I may have had of the plains +twenty-five years ago, they are lost to me now. The +free-range stock-owner has no country and no God; +nothing but a range that isn’t his, and damned bad manners—begging +pardon, Miss Wetherford. The sooner +he dies the better for the State. He’s a dirty, wasteful +sloven, content to eat canned beans and drink canned +milk in his rotten bad coffee; and nobody but an old +crank like myself has the grace to stand up and tell the +truth about him.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh smiled. “And you wouldn’t, if you weren’t +a man of independent means, and known to be one of the +most experienced cow-punchers in the county. I’ve no +fight with men like Gregg; all is they’ve got to conform +to the rules of the service.”</p> +<p>Gregg burst out: “You think you’re the whole United +States army! Who gives you all the authority?”</p> +<p>“Congress and the President.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></p> +<p>“There’s nothing in that bill to warrant these petty +tyrannies of yours.”</p> +<p>“What you call tyrannies I call defending the public +domain,” replied Redfield. “If I had my way, I’d give +my rangers the power of the Canadian mounted police. +Is there any other State in this nation where the roping +of sheep-herders and the wholesale butchery of sheep +would be permitted? From the very first the public +lands of this State have been a refuge for the criminal—a +lawless no-man’s land; but now, thanks to Roosevelt +and the Chief Forester, we at least have a force of men +on the spot to see that some semblance of law and order +is maintained. You fellows may protest and run to +Washington, and you may send your paid representatives +there, but you’re sure to lose. As free-range monopolists +you are cumberers of the earth, and all you represent +must pass, before this State can be anything but the +byword it now is. I didn’t feel this so keenly ten years +ago, but with a bunch of children growing up my vision +has grown clearer. The picturesque West must give +way to the civilized West, and the war of sheepmen and +cattle-men must stop.”</p> +<p>The whole dining-room was still as he finished, and Lee +Virginia, with a girl’s vague comprehension of the man’s +world, apprehended in Redfield’s speech a large and +daring purpose.</p> +<p>Gregg sneered. “Perhaps you intend to run for Congress +on that line of talk.”</p> +<p>Redfield’s voice was placid. “At any rate, I intend to +represent the policy that will change this State from the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +sparsely settled battle-ground of a lot of mounted hobos +to a State with an honorable place among the other commonwealths. +If this be treason, make the most of it.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh was disturbed; for while he felt the truth of +his chief’s words, he was in doubt as to the policy of +uttering them.</p> +<p>It was evident to Virginia that the cow-men, as well as +Gregg, were nearly all against the prophet of the future, +and she was filled with a sense of having arrived on the +scene just as the curtain to a stern and purposeful drama +was being raised. With her recollections of the savage +days of old, it seemed as if Redfield, by his bold words, +had placed his life in danger.</p> +<p>Cavanagh rose. “I must be going,” he said, with a +smile.</p> +<p>Again the pang of loss touched her heart. “When +will you come again?” she asked, in a low voice.</p> +<p>“It is hard to say. A ranger’s place is in the forest. +I am very seldom in town. Just now the danger of fires +is great, and I am very uneasy. I may not be down again +for a month.”</p> +<p>The table was empty now, and they were standing in +comparative isolation looking into each other’s eyes in +silence. At last she murmured: “You’ve helped me. I’m +going to stay—a little while, anyway, and do what I +can—”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry I can’t be of actual service, but I am a +soldier with a work to do. Even if I were here, I could not +help you as regards the townspeople—they all hate me +quite cordially; but Redfield, and especially Mrs. Redfield, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +can be of greater aid and comfort. He’s quite often here, +and when you are lonely and discouraged let him take +you up to Elk Lodge.”</p> +<p>“I’ve been working all the morning to make this room +decent. It was rather fun. Don’t you think it helped?”</p> +<p>“I saw the mark of your hand the moment I entered +the door,” he earnestly replied. “I’m not one that +laughs at the small field of woman’s work. If you +make this little hotel clean and homelike, you’ll be doing +a very considerable work in bringing about the New West +which the Supervisor is spouting about.” He extended +his hand, and as she took it he thrilled to the soft strength +of it. “Till next time,” he said, “good luck!”</p> +<p>She watched him go with a feeling of pain—as if in his +going she were losing her best friend and most valiant +protector.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IV_VIRGINIA_TAKES_ANOTHER_MOTOR_RIDE' id='IV_VIRGINIA_TAKES_ANOTHER_MOTOR_RIDE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +<h2>IV</h2> +<h3>VIRGINIA TAKES ANOTHER MOTOR RIDE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Lee Virginia’s efforts to refine the little hotel produced +an amazing change in Eliza Wetherford’s affairs. The +dining-room swarmed with those seeking food, and as the +news of the girl’s beauty went out upon the range, the +cowboys sought excuse to ride in and get a square meal +and a glimpse of the “Queen” whose hand had witched +“the old shack” into a marvel of cleanliness.</p> +<p>Say what you will, beauty is a sovereign appeal. These +men, unspeakably profane, cruel, and obscene in their +saddle-talk, were awed by the fresh linen, the burnished +glass, and the well-ordered tables which they found in +place of the flies, the dirt, and the disorder of aforetime. +“It’s worth a day’s ride just to see that girl for a minute,” +declared one enthusiast.</p> +<p>They did not all use the napkins, but they enjoyed +having them there beside their plates, and the subdued +light, the freedom from insects impressed them almost +to decorum. They entered with awe, avid for a word +with “Lize Wetherford’s girl.” Generally they failed +of so much as a glance at her, for she kept away from the +dining-room at meal-time.</p> +<p>Lee Virginia was fully aware of this male curiosity, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +and vaguely conscious of the merciless light which shone +in the eyes of some of them (men like Gregg), who went +about their game with the shameless directness of the +brute. She had begun to understand, too, that her +mother’s reputation was a barrier between the better +class of folk and herself; but as they came now and again +to take a meal, they permitted themselves a word in her +praise, which she resented. “I don’t want their friendship +<i>now</i>,” she declared, bitterly.</p> +<p>As she gained courage to look about her, she began +to be interested in some of her coatless, collarless +boarders on account of their extraordinary history. +There was Brady, the old government scout, retired on +a pension, who was accustomed to sit for hours on the +porch, gazing away over the northern plains—never +toward the mountains—as if he watched for bear or +bison, or for the files of hostile red hunters—though in +reality there was nothing to see but the stage, coming +and going, or a bunch of cowboys galloping into town. +Nevertheless, every cloud of dust was to him diversion, +and he appeared to dream, like a captive eagle, bedraggled, +spiritless, but with an inner spark of memory +burning deep in his dim blue eyes.</p> +<p>Then there was an old miner, distressingly filthy, who +hobbled to his meals on feet that had been frozen into +clubs. He had a little gold loaned at interest, and on +this he lived in tragic parsimony. He and the old scout +sat much together, usually without speech (each knew +to the last word the other’s stories), as if they recognized +each other’s utter loneliness. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span></p> +<p>Sifton, the old remittance man, had been born to a +higher culture, therefore was his degradation the deeper. +His poverty was due to his weakness. Virginia was especially +drawn toward him by reason of his inalienable +politeness and his well-chosen words. He was always +the gentleman—no matter how frayed his clothing.</p> +<p>So far as the younger men were concerned, she saw +little to admire and much to hate. They were crude and +uninteresting rowdies for the most part. She was put +upon her defence by their glances, and she came to dread +walking along the street, so open and coarse were their +words of praise. She felt dishonored by the glances +which her feet drew after her, and she always walked +swiftly to and from the store or the post-office.</p> +<p>Few of these loafers had the courage to stand on their +feet and court her favor, but there was one who speedily +became her chief persecutor. This was Neill Ballard, +celebrated (and made impudent) by two years’ travel +with a Wild West show. He was tall, lean, angular, and +freckled, but his horsemanship was marvellous and his +skill with the rope magical. His special glory consisted +in a complicated whirling of the lariat. In his hand the +limp, inert cord took on life, grace, charm. It hung in +the air or ran in rhythmic waves about him, rising, falling, +expanding, diminishing, as if controlled by some +agency other than a man’s hand, and its gyrations had +won much applause in the Eastern cities, where such +skill is expected of the cowboys.</p> +<p>He had lost his engagement by reason of a drunken +brawl, and he was now living with his sister, the wife of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +a small rancher near by. He was vain, lazy, and unspeakably +corrupt, full of open boasting of his exploits in +the drinking-dens of the East. No sooner did he fix +eyes upon Virginia than he marked her for his special +prey. He had the depraved heart of the herder and +the insolent confidence of the hoodlum, and something +of this the girl perceived. She despised the other men, +but she feared this one, and quite justly, for he was +capable of assaulting and binding her with his rope, +as he had once done with a Shoshone squaw.</p> +<p>The Greggs, father and son, were in open rivalry for +Lee also, but in different ways. The older man, who had +already been married several times, was disposed to buy +her hand in what he called “honorable wedlock,” but +the son, at heart a libertine, approached her as one who +despised the West, and who, being kept in the beastly +country by duty to a parent, was ready to amuse himself +at any one’s expense. He had no purpose in life but to +feed his body and escape toil.</p> +<p>There are women to whom all this warfare would have +been diverting, but it was not so to Lee. Her sense of +responsibility was too keen. It was both a torture and a +shame. The chivalry of the plains, of which she had +read so much—and which she supposed she remembered—was +gone. She doubted if it had ever existed among +these centaurs. Why should it inhere in ignorant, brutal +plainsmen any more than in ignorant, brutal factory +hands?</p> +<p>There came to her, now and again, gentle old ranchers—“grangers,” +they would be called—and shy boys from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +the farms, but for the most part the men she saw embittered +her, and she kept out of their sight as much as +possible. Her keenest pleasures, almost her only pleasures, +lay in the occasional brief visits of the ranger, as he +rode in for his mail.</p> +<p>Lize perceived all these attacks on her daughter, and +was infuriated by them. She snapped and snarled like +a tigress leading her half-grown kitten through a throng +of leopards. Her brows were knotted with care as well +as with pain, and she incessantly urged Virginia to go +back to Sulphur. “I’ll send you money to pay your +board till you strike a job.” But to this the girl would +not agree; and the business, by reason of her presence, +went on increasing from day to day.</p> +<p>To Redfield Lize one day confessed her pain. “I +ought to send for that doctor up there, but the plain +truth is I’m afraid of him. I don’t want to know what’s +the matter of me. It’s his job to tell me I’m sick and +I’m scared of his verdict.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense,” he replied; “you can’t afford to put off +getting him much longer. I’m going back to-night, but +I’ll be over again to-morrow. Why don’t you let me bring +him down? It will save you twelve dollars. And, by the +way, suppose you let me take Lee Virginia home with me? +She looks a bit depressed; an outing will do her good. +She’s taken hold here wonderfully.”</p> +<p>“Hasn’t she! But I should have sent her away the +very first night. I’m getting to depend on her. I’m +plumb foolish about her now—can’t let her out of my +sight; and yet I’m off my feed worryin’ over her. Gregg +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +is getting dangerous—you can’t fool me when it comes to +men. Curse ’em, they’re all alike—beasts, every cussed +one of them. I won’t have my girl mistreated, I tell you +that! I’m not fit to be her mother, now that’s the God’s +truth, Reddy, and this rotten little back-country cow-town +is no place for her. But what can I do? She won’t +leave me so long as I’m sick, and every day ties her closer +to me. I don’t know what I’d do without her. If I’m +goin’ to die I want her by me when I take my drop. So +you see just how I’m placed.”</p> +<p>She looked yellow and drawn as she ended, and Redfield +was moved by her unwonted tenderness.</p> +<p>“Now let me advise,” he began, after a moment’s +pause. “We musn’t let the girl get homesick. I’ll take +her home with me this afternoon, and bring her back +along with a doctor to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“All right, but before you go I want to have a private +talk—I want to tell you something.”</p> +<p>He warned her away from what promised to be a confession. +“Now, now, Eliza, don’t tell me anything that +requires that tone of voice; I’m a bad person to keep a +secret, and you might be sorry for it. I don’t want +to know anything more about your business than I can +guess.”</p> +<p>“I don’t mean the whiskey trade,” she explained. +“I’ve cut that all out anyway. It’s something more important—it’s +about Ed and me.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to hear <i>that</i> either,” he declared. “Let +bygones be bygones. What you did then is outlawed, +anyway. Those were fierce times, and I want to forget +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +them.” He looked about. “Let me see this Miss +Virginia and convey to her Mrs. Redfield’s invitation.”</p> +<p>“She’s in the kitchen, I reckon. Go right out.”</p> +<p>He was rather glad of a chance to see the young reformer +in action, and smiled as he came upon her surrounded +by waiters and cooks, busily superintending +the preparations for the noon meal, which amounted to +a tumult each day.</p> +<p>She saw Redfield, nodded, and a few moments later +came toward him, flushed and beaming with welcome. +“I’m glad to see you again, Mr. Supervisor.”</p> +<p>He bowed profoundly. “I’m delighted to find you +well, Miss Virginia, and doubly pleased to see you in +your regimentals, which you mightily adorn.”</p> +<p>She looked down at her apron. “I made this myself. +Do you know our business is increasing wonderfully? +I’m busy every moment of the day till bedtime.”</p> +<p>“Indeed I do know it. I hear of the Wetherford +House all up and down the line. I was just telling your +mother she’ll be forced to build bigger, like the chap +in the Bible.”</p> +<p>“She works too hard. Poor mother! I try to get her +to turn the cash-drawer over to me, but she won’t do +it. Doesn’t she seem paler and weaker to you?”</p> +<p>“She does, indeed, and this is what I came in to propose. +Mrs. Redfield sends by me a formal invitation +to you to visit Elk Lodge. She is not quite able to take +the long ride, else she’d come to you.” Here he handed +her a note. “I suggest that you go up with me this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +afternoon, and to-morrow we’ll fetch the doctor down +to see your mother. What do you say to that?”</p> +<p>Her eyes were dewy with grateful appreciation of his +kindness as she answered: “That would be a great +pleasure, Mr. Redfield, if mother feels able to spare me.”</p> +<p>“I’ve talked with her; she is anxious to have you go.”</p> +<p>Virginia was indeed greatly pleased and pleasantly +excited by this message, for she had heard much of Mrs. +Redfield’s exclusiveness, and also of the splendor of her +establishment. She hurried away to dress with such +flutter of joyous anticipation that Redfield felt quite repaid +for the pressure he had put upon his wife to induce +her to write that note. “You may leave Lize Wetherford +out of the count, my dear,” he had said. “There +is nothing of her discernible in the girl. Virginia is a +lady. I don’t know where she got it, but she’s a gentlewoman +by nature.”</p> +<p>Lize said: “Don’t you figure on me in any way, Reddy. +I’m nothing but the old hen that raised up this lark, +and all I’m a-livin’ for now is to make her happy. Just +you cut me out when it comes to any question about +your wife and Virginia. I’m not in their class.”</p> +<p>It was hot and still in the town, but no sooner was +the car in motion than both heat and dust were forgotten. +Redfield’s machine was not large, and as he was content +to go at moderate speed, conversation was possible.</p> +<p>He was of that sunny, optimistic, ever-youthful nature +which finds delight in human companionship under any +conditions whatsoever. He accepted this girl for what +she seemed—a fresh, unspoiled child. He saw nothing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +cheap or commonplace in her, and was not disposed to +impose any of her father’s wild doings upon her calendar. +He had his misgivings as to her future—that was the +main reason why he had said to Mrs. Redfield, “The girl +must be helped.” Afterward he had said “sustained.”</p> +<p>It was inevitable that the girl should soon refer to the +ranger, and Redfield was as complimentary of him as +she could wish. “Ross hasn’t a fault but one, and that’s +a negative one: he doesn’t care a hang about getting on, +as they say over in England. He’s content just to +do the duty of the moment. He made a good cow-puncher +and a good soldier; but as for promotion, he +laughs when I mention it.”</p> +<p>“He told me that he hoped to be Chief Forester,” +protested Virginia.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, he says that; but do you know, he’d rather be +where he is, riding over the hills, than live in London. +You should see his cabin some time. It’s most wonderful, +really. His walls are covered with bookshelves of +his own manufacture, and chairs of his own design. +Where the boy got the skill, I don’t see. Heaven knows, +his sisters are conventional enough! He’s capable of +being Supervisor, but he won’t live in town and work +in an office. He’s like an Indian in his love of the +open.”</p> +<p>All this was quite too absorbingly interesting to permit +of any study of the landscape, which went by as if dismissed +by the chariot wheels of some contemptuous +magician. Redfield’s eyes were mostly on the road (in +the manner of the careful driver), but when he did look up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +it was to admire the color and poise of his seat-mate, +who made the landscape of small account.</p> +<p>She kept the conversation to the desired point. “Mr. +Cavanagh’s work interests me very much. It seems very +important; and it must be new, for I never heard of a +forest ranger when I was a child.”</p> +<p>“The forester is new—at least, in America,” he answered. +“My dear young lady, you are returned just in the +most momentous period in the history of the West. +The old dominion—the cattle-range—is passing. The +supremacy of the cowboy is ended. The cow-boss is +raising oats, the cowboy is pitching alfalfa, and swearing +horribly as he blisters his hands. Some of the rangers +at the moment are men of Western training like Ross, +but whose allegiance is now to Uncle Sam. With others +that transfer of allegiance is not quite complete, hence +the insolence of men like Gregg, who think they can +bribe or intimidate these forest guards, and so obtain +favors; the newer men are college-bred, real foresters. +But you can’t know what it all means till you see Ross, +or some other ranger, on his own heath. We’ll make +up a little party some day and drop down upon him, and +have him show us about. It’s a lonely life, and so the +ranger keeps open house. Would you like to go?”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes indeed! I’m eager to get into the mountains. +Every night as I see the sun go down over them +I wonder what the world is like up there.”</p> +<p>Then he began very delicately to inquire about her +Eastern experience. There was not much to tell. In a +lovely old town not far from Philadelphia, where her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +aunt lived, she had spent ten years of happy exile. “I +was horribly lonely and homesick at first,” she said. +“Mother wrote only short letters, and my father never +wrote at all. I didn’t know he was dead then. He +was always good to me. He wasn’t a bad man, was +he?”</p> +<p>“No,” responded Redfield, without hesitation. “He +was very like the rest of us—only a little more reckless +and a little more partisan, that’s all. He was a dashing +horseman and a dead-shot, and so, naturally, a leader +of these daredevils. He was popular with both sides +of the controversy up to the very moment when he went +South to lead the invaders against the rustlers.”</p> +<p>“What was it all about? I never understood it. What +were they fighting about?”</p> +<p>“In a sense, it was all very simple. You see, Uncle +Sam, in his careless, do-nothing way, has always left his +range to whomever got there first, and that was the +cattle-man. At first there was grass enough for us all, +but as we built sheds and corrals about watering-places +we came to claim <i>rights</i> on the range. We usually secured +by fraud homesteads in the sections containing +water, and so, gun in hand, ‘stood off’ the man who +came after. Gradually, after much shooting and lawing, +we parcelled out the range and settled down covering +practically the whole State. Our adjustments were +not perfect, but our system was working smoothly for us +who controlled the range. We had convinced ourselves, +and pretty nearly everybody else, that the State +was only fit for cattle-grazing, and that we were the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +most competent grazers; furthermore, we were in +possession, and no man could come in without our +consent.</p> +<p>“However, a very curious law of our own making was +our undoing. Of course the ‘nester’ or ‘punkin roller,’ +as we contemptuously called the small farmer, began +sifting in here and there in spite of our guns, but he was +only a mosquito bite in comparison with the trouble +which our cow-punchers stirred up. Perhaps you remember +enough about the business to know that an unbranded +yearling calf without its mother is called a +maverick?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I remember that. It belongs to the man who +finds him, and brands him.”</p> +<p>“Precisely. Now that law worked very nicely so long +as the poor cowboy was willing to catch and brand him +for his employer, but it proved a ‘joker’ when he woke +up and said to his fellows: ‘Why brand these mavericks +at five dollars per head for this or that outfit +when the law says it belongs to the man who finds +him?’”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia looked up brightly. “That seems right +to me!”</p> +<p>“Ah yes; but wait. We cattle-men had large herds, +and the <i>probabilities</i> were that the calf belonged to some +one of us; whereas, the cowboy, having no herd at all, +<i>knew</i> the maverick belonged to some one’s herd. True, +the law said it was his, but the law did not mean to reward +the freebooter; yet that is exactly what it did. +At first only a few outlaws took advantage of it; but hard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +years came on, the cattle business became less and less +profitable, we were forced to lay off our men, and so at +last the range swarmed with idle cow-punchers; then +came the breakdown in our scheme! The cowboys took +to ‘mavericking’ on their own account. Some of them +had the grace to go into partnership with some farmer, +and so claim a small bunch of cows, but others suddenly +and miraculously acquired herds of their own. From +keeping within the law, they passed to violent methods. +They slit the tongues of calves for the purpose of separating +them from their mothers. Finding he could not +suck, bossy would at last wander away from his dam, +and so become a ‘maverick.’ In short, anarchy reigned +on the range.”</p> +<p>“But surely my father had nothing to do with +this?”</p> +<p>“No; your father, up to this time, had been on good +terms with everybody. He had a small herd of cattle +down the river, which he owned in common with a man +named Hart.”</p> +<p>“I remember him.”</p> +<p>“He was well thought of by all the big outfits; and +when the situation became intolerable, and we got together +to weed out ‘the rustlers,’ as these cattle-thieves +were called, your father was approached and converted +to a belief in drastic measures. He had suffered less +than the rest of us because of his small herd and the +fact that he was very popular among the cowboys. So +far as I was concerned, the use of violent methods revolted +me. My training in the East had made me a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +respecter of the law. ‘Change the law,’ I said. ‘The +law is all right,’ they replied; ‘the trouble is with these +rustlers. We’ll hang a few of ’em, and that will break +up the business.’”</p> +<p>Parts of this story came back to the girl’s mind, producing +momentary flashes of perfect recollection. She +heard again the voices of excited men arguing over and +over the question of “mavericking,” and she saw her +father as he rode up to the house that last day before +he went South.</p> +<p>Redfield went on. “The whole plan as developed +was silly, and I wonder still that Ed Wetherford, who +knew ‘the nester’ and the cowboy so well, should have +lent his aid to it. The cattle-men—some from Cheyenne, +some from Denver, and a few from New York and +Chicago—agreed to finance a sort of Vigilante Corps +composed of men from the outside, on the understanding +that this policing body should be commanded by +one of their own number. Your father was chosen second +in command, and was to guide the party; for he knew +almost every one of the rustlers, and could ride directly +to their doors.”</p> +<p>“I wish he hadn’t done that,” murmured the girl.</p> +<p>“I must be frank with you, Virginia. I can’t excuse +that in him. It was a kind of treachery. He must +have been warped by his associates. They convinced +him by some means that it was his duty, and one fine +day the Fork was startled by a messenger, who rode in +to say that the cattle-barons were coming with a hundred +Texas bad men ‘to clean out the town,’ and to put their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +own men into office. This last was silly rot to me, but +the people believed it.”</p> +<p>The girl was tingling now. “I remember! I remember +the men who rode into the town to give the alarm. +Their horses were white with foam; their heads hung +down, and their sides went in and out. I pitied the poor +things. Mother jumped on her pony, and rode out +among the men. She wanted to go with them, but they +wouldn’t let her. I was scared almost breathless.”</p> +<p>“I was in Sulphur City, and did not hear of it till it was +nearly all over,” Redfield resumed, his speech showing a +little of the excitement which thrilled through the girl’s +voice. “Well, the first act of vengeance was so ill-considered +that it practically ended the whole campaign. +The invaders fell upon and killed two ranchers—one +of whom was probably not a rustler at all, but a peaceable +settler, and the other one they most barbarously hanged. +More than this, they attacked and vainly tried to kill +two settlers whom they met on the road—German farmers, +with no connection, so far as known, with the thieves. +These men escaped, and gave the alarm. In a few hours +the whole range was aflame with vengeful fire. The +Forks, as you may recall, was like a swarm of bumblebees. +Every man and boy was armed and mounted. The +storekeepers distributed guns and ammunition, leaders +developed, and the embattled ‘punkin rollers,’ rustlers, +and townsmen rode out to meet the invaders.”</p> +<p>The girl paled with memory of it. “It was terrible! +I went all day without eating, and for two nights we +were all too excited to sleep. It seemed as if the world +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +were coming to an end. Mother cried because they +wouldn’t let her go with them. She didn’t know father +was leading the other army.”</p> +<p>“She must have known soon, for it was reported that +your father was among them. She certainly knew when +they were driven to earth in that log fort, for they were +obliged to restrain her by force from going to your father. +As I run over those furious days it all seems incredible, +like a sudden reversal to barbarism.”</p> +<p>“How did it all end? The soldiers came, didn’t they?”</p> +<p>“Yes; the long arm of Uncle Sam reached out and took +hold upon the necks of both parties. I guess your father +and his band would have died right there had not the +regular army interfered. It only required a sergeant +wearing Uncle Sam’s uniform to come among those +armed and furious cowboys and remove their prisoners.”</p> +<p>“I saw that. It was very strange—that sergeant was +so young and so brave.”</p> +<p>He turned and smiled at her. “Do you know who that +was?”</p> +<p>Her eyes flashed. She drew her breath with a gasp. +“Was it Mr. Cavanagh?”</p> +<p>“Yes, it was Ross. He was serving in the regular +army at the time. He has told me since that he felt no +fear whatever. ‘Uncle Sam’s blue coat was like Siegfried’s +magic armor,’ he said; ‘it was the kind of thing +the mounted police of Canada had been called upon to +do many a time, and I went in and got my men.’ That +ended the war, so far as violent measures went, and it +really ended the sovereignty of the cattle-man. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +power of the ‘nester’ has steadily increased from that +moment.”</p> +<p>“But my father—what became of him? They took +him away to the East, and that is all I ever knew. What +do you think became of him?”</p> +<p>“I could never make up my mind. All sorts of rumors +come to us concerning him. As a matter of fact, the +State authorities sympathized with the cattle-barons, and +my own opinion is that your father was permitted to +escape. He was afterward seen in Texas, and later it +was reported that he had been killed there.”</p> +<p>The girl sat still, listening to the tireless whir of the +machine, and looking out at the purpling range with +tear-mist eyes. At last she said: “I shall never think +of my father as a bad man, he was always so gentle to +me.”</p> +<p>“You need not condemn him, my dear young lady. +First of all, it’s not fair to bring him (as he was in those +days) forward into these piping times of dairy cows and +alfalfa. The people of the Forks—some of them, at +least—consider him a traitor, and regard you as the +daughter of a renegade, but what does it matter? Each +year sees the Old West diminish, and already, in the work +of the Forest Service, law and order advance. Notwithstanding +all the shouting of herders and the beating to +death of sheep, no hostile shot has ever been fired within +the bounds of a National Forest. In the work of the +forest rangers lies the hope of ultimate peace and order +over all the public lands.”</p> +<p>The girl fell silent again, her mind filled with larger +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +conceptions of life than her judgment had hitherto been +called upon to meet. She knew that Redfield was right, +and yet that world of the past—the world of the swift +herdsman and his trampling, long-horned, half-wild kine +still appealed to her imagination. The West of her girlhood +seemed heroic in memory; even the quiet account +of it to which she had just listened could not conceal +its epic largeness of movement. The part which troubled +her most was her father’s treachery to his neighbors. +That he should fight, that he should kill men in honorable +warfare, she could understand; but not his recreancy, +his desertion of her mother and herself.</p> +<p>She came back to dwell at last on the action of that +slim young soldier who had calmly ridden through the +infuriated mob. She remembered that she had thrilled +even then at the vague and impersonal power which he +represented. To her childish mind he seemed to bear +a charm, like the heroes of her story-books—something +which made him invulnerable.</p> +<p>After a long pause Redfield spoke again. “The memory +of your father will make life for a time a bit hard for +you in Roaring Fork—perhaps your mother’s advice is +sound. Why not come to Sulphur City, which is almost +entirely of the new spirit?”</p> +<p>“If I can get my mother to come, too, I will be glad +to do so, for I hate the Fork; but I will not leave her +there, sick and alone.”</p> +<p>“Much depends upon the doctor’s examination to-morrow.”</p> +<p>They had topped the divide now between the Fork +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +and Sulphur Creek Basin, and the green fields, the alfalfa +meadows, and the painted farm-houses thickened beneath +them. Strange how significant all these signs +were now. A few days ago they had appeared doubtful +improvements, now they represented the oncoming +dominion of the East. They meant cleanliness and +decent speech, good bread and sweet butter. Ultimately +houses with hot water in their bath-rooms and +pianos in their parlors would displace the shack, the +hitching-pole, and the dog-run, and in those days Edward +Wetherford would be forgotten.</p> +<p>Redfield swept through the town, then turned up the +stream directly toward the high wall of the range, which +was ragged and abrupt at this point. They passed several +charming farm-houses, and the western sky grew +ever more glorious with its plum-color and saffron, and +the range reasserted its mastery over the girl. At last +they came to the very jaws of the canon; and there, in +a deep natural grove of lofty cottonwood-trees, Redfield +passed before a high rustic gate which marked the beginning +of his estate. The driveway was of gravel, and +the intermingling of transplanted shrubs and pine-trees +showed the care of the professional gardener.</p> +<p>The house was far from being a castle; indeed, it was +very like a house in Bryn-Mawr, except that it was built +entirely of half-hewn logs, with a wide projecting roof. +Giant hydrangeas and other flowering shrubs bordered +the drive, and on the rustic terrace a lady in white was +waiting.</p> +<p>Redfield slowed down, and scrambled ungracefully +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +out; but his voice was charming as he said: “Eleanor, +this it Miss Wetherford. She was on the point of getting +the blues, so I brought her away,” he explained.</p> +<p>Mrs. Redfield, quite as urban as the house, was a +slim little woman of delicate habit, very far from the +ordinary conception of a rancher’s wife. Her manner +was politely considerate, but not heatedly cordial (the +visitor was not precisely hers), and though she warmed a +little after looking into Virginia’s face, she could not by +any stretch of phrase be called cordial.</p> +<p>“Are you tired? would you like to lie down before +dinner?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Oh no, indeed. Nothing ever tires me,” Virginia +responded, with a smile.</p> +<p>“You look like one in perfect health,” continued her +hostess, in the envious tone of one who knew all too well +what ill-health meant. “Let me show you to your room.”</p> +<p>The house was not precisely the palace the cowboy +had reported it to be, but it was charmingly decorated, +and the furnishings were tasteful. To the girl it was as +if she had been transported with instant magic from the +horrible little cow-town back to the home of one of her +dearest friends in Chester. She was at once exalted and +humbly grateful.</p> +<p>“We dine at seven,” Mrs. Redfield was saying, “so +you can take a cup of tea without spoiling your dinner. +Will you venture it?”</p> +<p>“If you please.”</p> +<p>“Very well; come down soon, and I’ll have it ready. +Mr. Redfield, I’m sure, will want some.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span></p> +<p>Virginia’s heart was dancing with delight of this home +as she came down the stairs a little later. She found Mr. +Redfield at the farther end of a long sitting-room, whose +dim light was as restful (after the glare of the tawny +plains) as the voice of her hostess was to her ears, which +still ached with the noise of profane and vulgar speech.</p> +<p>Redfield heard her coming and met her half-way, and +with stately ceremony showed her a seat. “I fear you +will need something stronger than tea after my exhausting +conversation.”</p> +<p>“I hope, Hugh, you were not in one of your talking +moods?”</p> +<p>“I was, Eleanor. I talked incessantly, barring an +occasional jolt of the machine.”</p> +<p>“You poor thing!” This to Virginia. “Truly you +deserve a two hours’ rest before dinner, for our dinner +is always a talk-fest, and to-night, with Senator +Bridges here, it will be a convention.”</p> +<p>He turned to Virginia. “We were talking old times +‘before the war,’ and you know it never tires veterans to +run over their ancient campaigns—does it, Lee Virginia?”</p> +<p>As they talked Mrs. Redfield studied the girl with increasing +interest and favor, and soon got at her point of +view. She even secured a little more of her story, which +matched fairly well with the account her husband had +given. Her prejudices were swept away, and she treated +her young guest as one well-born and well-educated +woman treats another.</p> +<p>At last she said: “We dress for dinner, but any frock +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +you have will do. We are not ironclad in our rules. +There will be some neighbors in, but it isn’t in any sense +a ‘party.’”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia went to her room, borne high upon a new +conception of the possibilities of the West. It was +glorious to think that one could enjoy the refinement, +the comfort of the East at the same time that one dwelt +within the inspiring shadow of the range. She caught +some prophetic hint in all this of the future age when +each of these foot-hills would be peopled by those to +whom cleanliness of mind and grace of body were habitual. +Standing on the little balcony which filled the front of her +windows, she looked away at the towering heights, +smoky purple against a sky of burning gold, and her +eyes expanded like those of the young eagle when about +to launch himself upon the sunset wind.</p> +<p>The roar of a waterfall came to her ears, and afar on +the sage-green carpet of the lower mesa a horseman was +galloping swiftly. Far to the left of this smoothly +sculptured table-land a band of cattle fed, while under +her eyes, formal as a suburban home, lay a garden of +old-fashioned English flowers. It was a singular and +moving union of the old and new—the East and the West.</p> +<p>On her table and on the pretty bookshelves she found +several of the latest volumes of poetry and essays, and +the bed, with its dainty covering and ample spread, +testified quite as plainly of taste and comfort. Her +hands were a-tremble as she put on the bright muslin +gown which was all she had for evening wear. She +felt very much like the school-girl again, and after she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +had done her best to look nice, she took a seat in the +little rocker, with intent to compose herself for her meeting +with strangers. “I wish we were dining without +visitors,” she said, as she heard a carriage drive up. A +little later a galloping horse entered the yard and stopped +at the door.</p> +<p>“It all sounds like a play,” she said to herself, +forgetting for the moment that she was miles away from +a town and in a lonely ranch-house under the very +shadows of the mountains.</p> +<p>She heard voices in the hall, and among them one with +a very English accent—one that sounded precisely like +those she had heard on the stage. It was the voice of a +man, big, hearty, with that thick, throaty gurgle which +is so suggestive of London that one is certain to find +a tweed suit and riding-breeches associated with it.</p> +<p>At last she dared wait no longer, and taking courage +from necessity, descended the stairs—a pleasant picture +of vigorous yet somewhat subdued maidenhood.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='V_TWO_ON_THE_VERANDA' id='V_TWO_ON_THE_VERANDA'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +<h2>V</h2> +<h3>TWO ON THE VERANDA</h3> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Redfield</span> met his young guest in dinner-coat, looking +extremely urban, and presented his “friend and neighbor, +Mr. Enderby.”</p> +<p>Enderby turned out to be the owner of the voice with +the English accent which Lee Virginia had heard in the +hall, but he was very nice, and a moment later Mrs. +Redfield entered with Mrs. Enderby, a large lady with +a smiling face. Then a voice she knew spoke from behind +her: “I don’t need a presentation. Miss Wetherford and +I have already met.”</p> +<p>She turned to meet Ross Cavanagh, the young ranger.</p> +<p>“How did you get here?” she asked, in wonder.</p> +<p>“I rode across the hills; it’s not far.”</p> +<p>He too was in evening dress, and as she stared at him +in surprise he laughingly protested. “Please don’t scrutinize +this coat too closely. It’s the only one I’ve owned +for ten years, and this is the only house in which I’d +<i>dare</i> to wear it.”</p> +<p>Bridges (who turned out to be a State senator) was a +farmer-like elderly man wearing a badly fitting serge +suit. He was markedly Western; so was his wife, who +looked rather uneasy and hot. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span></p> +<p>It was all delightfully exciting to Lee Virginia, and +to be taken in to dinner by the transfigured ranger +completed her appreciation of the charming home and +its refined hostess.</p> +<p>Redfield shone as host, presenting an admirable +mixture of clubman and Western rancher. His natural +sense of humor, sharpened by twenty years of plains life, +was Western. His manner, his habits of dress, of dining, +of taking wine, were uncorruptedly Manhattan. Enderby, +large, high-colored, was naturally a bit of what we +know as the “haw-haw type” of Englishman—a thoroughly +good fellow, kindly, tolerant, brave, and generous, +who could not possibly change his spots. He had failed +utterly to acquire the American idiom, and his attempts +at cowboy slang were often amusing—especially to Redfield, +who prided himself on being quite undistinguishable +in a cow-camp.</p> +<p>Virginia and Ross, being the only young folk at the +table, were seated together, and Enderby remarked +privately: “Ross, you’re in luck.”</p> +<p>“I know I am,” he replied, heartily.</p> +<p>He was (as Redfield had said) highly susceptible, +made so by his solitary life in the mountains, and to be +seated close beside this maid of the valley stirred his +blood to the danger-point. It was only by an effort +of the will that he kept in touch with Redfield’s remarks.</p> +<p>“Enderby never can grow accustomed to his democratic +neighbors,” Redfield was saying. “He’s been here +six years, and yet when one of his cowboy friends tells +him to ‘go to hell’ he’s surprised and a bit offended.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span></p> +<p>“Oh, it isn’t that,” explained Mrs. Enderby; “it’s +to have your maids say ‘All right’ when you ask them +to remove the soup. It’s a bit shocking also to have +your cook or housemaid going about the house singing +some wretched ditty. What was that one, Charley, +that Irma Maud sang till we were nearly wild (Irma +Maud was my chambermaid). What was it? Something +about ‘Tixey Ann.’”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know it perfectly!” exclaimed Enderby. “‘If +you want to make a niggah feel good—’”</p> +<p>“No, no; that’s another one.”</p> +<p>Redfield interposed. “You wouldn’t have them go +about in sullen stealth, would you? Think how song +lightens their drudgery.”</p> +<p>“Ah yes; but if it drives the family out-of-doors?”</p> +<p>“It shouldn’t. You should take it all as a part of the +happy world of democracy wherein even the maid-servant +sings at her toil.”</p> +<p>“But our democratic neighbors are all the time coming +to look round the place. We’ve no privacy whatever. +On Sunday afternoon they drive through the +grounds in procession; you’d think our place a public +park and we the keepers.”</p> +<p>In all this banter Virginia was given the English +viewpoint as to Western manners and conditions. She +perceived that the Enderbys, notwithstanding their +heavy-set prejudices, were persons of discernment and +right feeling. It certainly was impertinent of the neighbors +to ride through the grounds as if they were public, +and Mrs. Enderby was justified in resenting it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span></p> +<p>Ross turned to her. “Enderby is the kind of Englishman +who wants to adapt himself to new conditions, +but can’t.”</p> +<p>“You don’t seem like an Englishman at all.”</p> +<p>“Well, I was caught young, and, besides, I’m really +Irish—on my father’s side.”</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s different!” she exclaimed, as though that +somehow brought him nearer to her own people.</p> +<p>“It is, isn’t it?” he laughingly agreed. “But Enderby—I +suppose his pedigree goes back to Cedric and his +swineherds. You can’t change that kind.”</p> +<p>“I hadn’t the least thought of seeing you here. How +did you happen to come?”</p> +<p>“Redfield telephoned me at the mill, and I came at +once. I haven’t been here since May, and I just thought +I’d take a half a day off. Luckily, my understudy was +with me. I left him ‘on the job.’”</p> +<p>He did not tell her that she was the principal reason +for this sudden descent upon Elk Lodge, and no one but +Redfield knew the killing ride he had taken in order to +be in at the beginning of the dinner. The girl’s face and +voice, especially her voice, had been with him night and +day as he went about his solitary duties. Her life problem +had come to fill his mind to a disturbing degree, and +he was eager to know more of her and of her struggle +against the vice and vulgarity of the Forks.</p> +<p>“How is your mother?” he asked, a few minutes +later.</p> +<p>“Not at all well. Mr. Redfield is to take the doctor +back with us to-morrow.” The ecstasy died out of her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +face, and the flexible lips drooped with troubled musing. +“I am afraid she suffers more than she will admit.”</p> +<p>“She needs a rest and change. She should get away +from her seat at that cash-register, and return to the +open air. A touch of camp-life would help her. She +sticks too close to her work.”</p> +<p>“I know she does, but she won’t let me relieve her, +even for an hour. It isn’t because she doesn’t trust +me; she says it’s because she doesn’t want me sitting +there—so—publicly. She doesn’t oppose my housekeeping +any more—”</p> +<p>“You certainly have made the old hotel into a place of +miraculous neatness.”</p> +<p>She flushed with pleasure. “I have done something, +but not as I’d like to do. I really think if mother wishes +to sell she could do so now to much better advantage.”</p> +<p>“I’ve no doubt of it. Really, I’m not being funny, +Miss Wetherford, when I say you’ve done something +heroic. It’s no easy thing to come into a place like that +and make it habitable. It shows immense courage and +self-reliance on your part. It’s precisely the kind of +work this whole country needs.”</p> +<p>His praise, sincere and generous, repaid her for all +she had gone through. It was a great pleasure to hear +her small self praised for courage and self-reliance by +one whose daily work was heroic. All things conspired +to make a conquest of her heart, for the ranger bore +himself with grace, and dealt with his silver deftly. His +face, seen from the side, was older and sterner than +she had thought it, but it was very attractive in line. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span></p> +<p>She said: “Mr. Redfield and I were talking of ‘the +war’ to-day—I mean our ‘cattle-man’s invasion’—and I +learned that you were the sergeant who came for the +prisoners.”</p> +<p>He smiled. “Yes; I was serving in the regular army +at that time.”</p> +<p>“You must have been very young?”</p> +<p>“I was—a kid.”</p> +<p>“That was a brave thing to do.”</p> +<p>“Not at all. I was a soldier under orders of the commander +of the post. I dared not disobey.”</p> +<p>She would not have it so. “But you knew that you +were going into danger?”</p> +<p>“To be honest about it, I did; but I relied on my +blue coat to protect me.”</p> +<p>“It was a terrible time. I was only a child, but I +can remember how wild the men all seemed when you +drove up and leaped out of the wagon. I didn’t realize +that my father’s life depended on your coming, but we +all knew it was brave of you.”</p> +<p>“I think I was born a soldier. What I like about my +present job is its definiteness. I have my written instructions, +and there’s no need to argue anything. I +carry out my orders. But I beg pardon, I’m not going +to talk ‘shop’ to you. I want you to tell me about yourself. +I hope you are not to return to the East, for +if you do not I shall be able to see you occasionally.”</p> +<p>Here Redfield appealed to the ranger. “Ross, you’re +all sorts of a reactionary. What do you say to this? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +Senator Bridges is opposed to all Federal interference +with State forests and State game.”</p> +<p>The forester’s eyes lit up. “But are they State +forests and State game? What makes them so? They +are lands which the whole people purchased and which +the whole people defended.”</p> +<p>“Heah! heah!” cheered Enderby.</p> +<p>Bridges bristled with anger, and went off into a long +harangue on States rights and the dangers of centralization, +to which Enderby replied: “Bosh! the whole +trouble with your bally Government is its lack of cohesion. +If I had my way, I’d wipe out the Senate and put a strong +man like Roosevelt at the head of the executive. You’re +such blooming asses over here; you don’t know enough +to keep a really big man in your presidential chair. +This fussing about every four years to put in some oily +corporation lawyer is bloody rot. Here’s Roosevelt gets +in the midst of a lot of the finest kind of reforms, y’ know, +and directly you go and turn him out! Then if you get +a bad man, you’ve to wait four years till you can fetch him +a whack. Why not arrange it so you can pitch your +President out the minute he goes wrong? I say your +old rag of a Constitution is a ball-and-chain on your +national leg. England is immeasurably better off so +far as that goes.”</p> +<p>Ross turned to Virginia, leaving the political discussion +to go on over his head. “I was back in the Old Island a +couple of years ago, and you’ve no idea how small it +seemed to me. It surely is a ‘right little, tight little +island.’ I couldn’t help wondering whether the men +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +in Parliament were as important as they seemed to think +they were, and whether England is not really an empty +shell of empire, a memory of what it once was. I +couldn’t settle down there, someway. I was homesick +for the mountains in a month. But what scared me +most was the pauper population of the old place—one +in every thirty-seven must be helped. I came back to +the States gladly. ‘I guess I’m an American,’ I said to +my sisters.”</p> +<p>To Lee Virginia all this talk of “the curse of democracy” +and “the decay of empire” was unexciting, but +when Cavanagh told of the sheepmen’s advance across +the dead-line on Deer Creek, and of the threats of the +cattle-owners, she was better able to follow the discussion. +Bridges was heartily on the side of law and order, for +he wished to boom the State (being a heavy owner in a +town-site), but he objected to Redfield’s ideas of “bottling +up the resources of the State.”</p> +<p>“We’re not,” retorted Redfield; “we’re merely defending +them against those who would monopolize them. +We believe in their fullest use, but we see no reason for +giving away the resources when the country needs the +revenue.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Redfield rose as soon as the coffee came on. +“You gentlemen seem bent upon discussing matters of no +interest to us,” she said, “so we’ll leave you to fight it +out alone. I’m sure you’ll all agree with Hugh in the +end. Like General Grant, he’s a very obstinate man.”</p> +<p>No sooner were they seated in the big living-room than +Mrs. Enderby began to relate comical stories of her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +household. Her cats had fits and ran up the wall. Her +dogs were forever getting quilled by reason of foolish +attacks upon porcupines, or else they came home so +reminiscent of skunks that they all but smothered the +cook. “Invariably they return from encounters of this +kind just as we are sitting at dinner,” she explained. +“Furthermore, Enderby’s ditches are habitually getting +clogged, and overflowing the lawn and filling the cellar, +and he stands in terror of his cowboys. When I think +of all these irruptions and distractions, England’s order +and routine seem heavenly; but Charley finds all this +amusing, more’s the pity, and leaves me to set things in +order. Most ludicrous of all, to me, is his habitual claim +that the ranch is paying. I tell him there’s an error in +his bookkeeping somewhere, but he assures me that his +receipts exceeded his expenditures last year—which is +quite too incredible. You’ve no idea how high wages +are and how little we raise.”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I have,” laughed Mrs. Redfield, “and my +cat had a fit too. Hugh says it’s the high altitude. I +tell him it’s melancholia.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh showed himself. “I hear so much laughter +I’m coming in, we’re all so insufferably political out +here. And, besides, I came to see the ladies, and I can +only stay a few minutes longer.”</p> +<p>“You’re not going back to-night!” exclaimed his hostess.</p> +<p>“I must be on my own precinct by daylight,” he +replied; “the Supervisor has an eye on me.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Redfield explained to Lee Virginia. “He rode +fifty miles over the mountains—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span></p> +<p>“Thirty,” corrected Ross. “But what does that +matter when I’m in the company of such charming +ladies?” he added, gallantly.</p> +<p>“And now he’s going to ride all the way back to-night!”</p> +<p>“Think of that,” gasped Mrs. Enderby, “and no +moon!”</p> +<p>“How can you find your way?” asked Mrs. Bridges, +to whom this was a mortally dangersome journey.</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s quite simple. If you don’t bump against a +tree or fall into the creek you may be quite sure you’re +on the trail,” laughed Ross.</p> +<p>Mrs. Redfield knew the true reason for his coming, +and was not at all pleased, “for with all Lee’s personal +charm,” she said to her husband, “she is socially beneath +Ross Cavanagh, even in a State where social barriers are +few.”</p> +<p>“Come out on the veranda,” suggested Cavanagh, +“and I’ll show you the hills I must climb.”</p> +<p>Lee accepted innocently; but as the young people left +the room Mrs. Enderby looked at her hostess with +significant glance. “There’s the lady Ross rode down +to meet. Who is she?”</p> +<p>“Her mother is that dreadful old creature that keeps +the Wetherford Hotel in Roaring Fork.”</p> +<p>“No!” exclaimed Mrs. Enderby.</p> +<p>“Yes; Lee Virginia is Lize Wetherford’s daughter.”</p> +<p>“But the girl is charming.”</p> +<p>“I cannot understand it. Hugh came home a week +or so ago full of her praise—” And at this point her voice +dropped lower and the other drew closer. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span></p> +<p>Outside, the young people stood in silence. There +was no moon, and the mountains rose darkly, a sheer +wall at the end of the garden, their tops cutting into the +starry sky with a dull edge, over which a dim white cone +peered.</p> +<p>“That snow-peak is Wolftooth, and thirty miles from +here, and at the head of my ‘beat,’” said the ranger, +after a pause, as they leaned against the railing and +looked away to the south. “I go up that ridge which +you see faintly at the left of the main canon, and through +that deep notch which is above timber-line.”</p> +<p>The girl’s eyes widened with awe of the big, silent, dark +world he indicated. “Aren’t you afraid to start out on +such a trip alone—I mean, don’t you dread it?”</p> +<p>“I’ll be sorry to start back, yes, but not because of +the dark. I’ve enjoyed my visit here so much it will be +hard to say good-night.”</p> +<p>“It seems strange to me that you should prefer this +wild country to England.”</p> +<p>“Do you like the East better than the West?”</p> +<p>“In some ways; but then, you see, I was born out here.”</p> +<p>“So was I—I mean to say I was regenerated out here. +The truth is I was a good deal of a scapegrace when I +left England. I was always for hunting and horses, +and naturally I came directly to the wild West country, +and here I’ve been ever since. I’ve had my turn at each +phase of it—cow-puncher, soldier, Rough-rider, and finally +forest ranger. I reckon I’ve found my job at last.”</p> +<p>“Do you like it so much?”</p> +<p>“At the present time I am perfectly contented. I’m +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +associated now with a country that will never yield to +the plough—yes, I like my work. I love the forests and +the streams. I wish I might show them to you. You +don’t know how beautiful they are. The most beautiful +parks in the world are commonplace to what I can show +you. My only sorrow is to think of them given over +to the sawmill. Perhaps you and your mother will +come up some time, and let me show you my lakes and +streams. There are waters so lovely they make the +heart ache. Hugh is planning to come up soon; perhaps +you and Mrs. Redfield will come with him.”</p> +<p>“I’d like it above everything,” she responded, fervently. +Then her voice changed: “But all depends on my +mother’s health.”</p> +<p>It hurt him to hear her call Eliza Wetherford mother. +He wanted to forget her origin for the moment. He was +not in love with her—far from it! But she was so alluring, +and the proprietress of the Wetherford House was +not nice, and that made one doubt the daughter.</p> +<p>She broke the silence. “It seems dreadfully dark and +mysterious up there.” She indicated his path.</p> +<p>“It isn’t as bad as it looks. There is a good trail, +and my pony knows it as well as I do. I enjoy riding +by night.”</p> +<p>“But there are bears and other wild things, are there +not?”</p> +<p>“Not as many as I wish there were.”</p> +<p>“Why do you say that?”</p> +<p>“I hate to see all the wild life killed off. Some day +all these forests will have game refuges like the Yellowstone +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +National Park. They are coming each year to +have greater and greater value to the people of the plains. +They are playgrounds, like the Alps. Campers are +coming into my valley every day, and, while they increase +the danger of fires, I welcome them. They are all advocates +of the forest. As one man said: ‘The mountains +supplement the plains. They give color and charm to +the otherwise monotonous West.’ I confess I couldn’t +live on the prairies—not even on the plains—if out of +sight of the mountains. If I should ever settle down to +a home it would be in a canon like this, with a great peak +at my front door.”</p> +<p>“It <i>is</i> beautiful,” the girl said, in the tone of sadness +with which we confront the perfect night, the perfect +flower, the flawless landscape. “It is both grand and +peaceful.”</p> +<p>This tone of sadness pleased him. It showed her +depth of perception, and he reflected that she had not +uttered a vacuous or silly phrase since their first meeting. +“She is capable of great development,” he thought. +Aloud he said: “You are a strange mingling of East +and West. Do you realize it?”</p> +<p>“In what way?” she asked, feeling something ardent +in his tone.</p> +<p>“You typify to me at this moment this whole State. +You fill me with enthusiasm for its future. Here you +are, derived from the lawless West, yet taking on the +culture and restraint of the East so readily that you +seem not in the least related to—”</p> +<p>He checked himself at this point, and she said: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +“My mother is not as rough as she seems, Mr. Cavanagh.”</p> +<p>“She must be more of the woman than appears, or +she could not have borne such a daughter. But do you +feel your relationship to her? Tell me honestly, for you +interest me.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t at first, but I do now. I begin to understand +her, and, besides, I feel in myself certain things +that are in her, though I think I am more like the Wetherfords. +My father’s family home was in Maryland.”</p> +<p>Ross could have talked on all night, so alluring was +the girl’s dimly-seen yet warmly-felt figure at his side, +but a sense of danger and a knowledge that he should +be riding led him at last to say: “It is getting chill, we +must go in; but before we do so, let me say how much +I’ve enjoyed seeing you again. I hope the doctor will +make favorable report on your mother’s case. You’ll +write me the result of the examination, won’t you?”</p> +<p>“If you wish me to.”</p> +<p>“I shall be most anxious to know.”</p> +<p>They were standing very near to each other at the +moment, and the ranger, made very sensitive to woman’s +charm by his lonely life, shook with newly-created love +of her. A suspicion, a hope that beneath her cultivated +manner lay the passionate nature of her mother gave an +added force to his desire. He was sorely tempted +to touch her, to test her; but her sweet voice, a little sad +and perfectly unconscious of evil, calmed him. She said:</p> +<p>“I hope to persuade my mother to leave the Forks. +All the best people there are against us. Some of them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +have been very cruel to her and to me, and, besides, I +despise and fear the men who come to our table.”</p> +<p>“You must not exchange words with them,” he all +but commanded. “Beware of Gregg; he is a vile lot; +do not trust him for an instant. Do not permit any of +those loafers to talk with you, for if you do they will go +away to defame you. I know them. They are unspeakably +vile. It makes me angry to think that Gregg +and his like have the right to speak to you every day while +I can only see you at long intervals.”</p> +<p>His heat betrayed the sense of proprietorship which he +had begun to feel, in spite of his resolution. But the girl +only perceived his solicitation, his friendly interest, and +she answered: “I keep away from them all I can.”</p> +<p>“You are right to distrust them,” he replied, grimly. +“Because old Sam has money, he thinks he can do as he +pleases. You must be especially careful of him.”</p> +<p>“The worst is when I go on the street; but if mother +does not sell the business, I shall be obliged to stay in +the Fork, no matter how I hate it.”</p> +<p>“I wish my station were not so far away,” he mused, +darkly. “But I’ll ride down as often as my duties will +permit, and you must let me know how things go. And if +any of those fellows persecute you, you’ll tell me, won’t +you? I wish you’d look upon me as your big brother. +Will you do that?” His voice entreated, and as she remained +silent, he continued: “Roaring Fork is one of the +worst towns in the State, and a girl like you needs some +one as a protector. I don’t know just how to put it so +that you will not misunderstand me, but, you see, I protect +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +the forest, the streams, and the game; I help the +settler in time of trouble; I am a kind of all-round big +brother to everybody who needs help in the forest. In +fact, I’m paid for protecting things that can’t protect +themselves, and so”—here he tried to lend his voice the +accent of humor—“why shouldn’t I be the protector of a +girl like you, alone—worse than alone—in this little cow-town?”</p> +<p>She remained dumb at one or two points where he +clearly hoped for a word, and she was unable to thank +him when he had finished. In this silence a curious +constriction came into his throat. It was almost as if +he had put his passion into definite words, and as the light +fell upon her he perceived that her bosom was heaving +with deep emotion.</p> +<p>“I <i>am</i> lonely,” she faltered out at last—“horribly +lonely; and I know now how people feel toward my +mother, and it hurts me—it all hurts me; but I’m +going to stay and help her—” She paused to recover +her voice. “And you <i>do</i> seem different! I—I—trust +you!”</p> +<p>“I’m glad you understand me, and you <i>will</i> let me +know if I can help you, won’t you?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she answered, simply.</p> +<p>“Good-night,” he said, extending his hand.</p> +<p>She placed her palm to his quite frankly, but the +touch of it made further speech at the moment impossible.</p> +<p>They went in with such tell-tale faces that even Redfield +wondered what had passed between them. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span></p> +<p>Excusing himself almost at once, Cavanagh left the +room, and when he looked in, a few moments later, he +was clothed in the ranger’s dusty green uniform, booted +and spurred for his long, hard ride. Mrs. Redfield +followed him into the hall and out on the door-stone to +say: “Ross, you must be careful. This girl is very alluring +in herself, but her mother, you know, is impossible.”</p> +<p>“You’re needlessly alarmed, as usual,” he smilingly +replied. “She interests me—that’s patent; but beyond +that, why—nonsense! Good-night.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless, despite his protestations, he went away +up the trail with his mind so filled with Lee Virginia’s +appealing face and form that he would certainly have +ridden over a precipice had it not been for his experienced +pony, who had fortunately but one aim, and that was to +cross the range safely and to reach the home pasture at +the earliest moment.</p> +<p>Now that he was looking back upon three hours more +of Lee’s society, Cavanagh was ready to admit that he had +left his range and ridden hard and far with that one purpose +in mind. He had been hungry for the sight of her, +and now that he had touched her hand and looked upon +her again he was a little surprised and deeply disturbed +to find himself hungrier than before.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VI_THE_VOICE_FROM_THE_HEIGHTS' id='VI_THE_VOICE_FROM_THE_HEIGHTS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +<h2>VI</h2> +<h3>THE VOICE FROM THE HEIGHTS</h3> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Lee Virginia</span> was not entirely without experience as +regards respectful courtship. Her life in the East had +brought her to know a number of attractive lads and a +few men, but none of these had become more than good +companions, or friends; and though she wrote to one +or two of these youths letters of the utmost friendliness, +there was no passion in them, and she felt, as yet, the +sting of nothing more intense in her liking for Cavanagh; +but he meant more to her, now that she was lonely and +beleaguered of those whose eyes were cruel and hot.</p> +<p>Then, too, he had come to represent a new world to +her—this world of the forest, this region toward the sunset, +which was quite as mysterious to her thinking as it +was to the eyes of any plains-dweller. Her imagination +went with the ranger on his solitary march into those +vague, up-billowing masses of rocks and trees. To her +there were many dangers, and she wondered at his +courage, his hardihood.</p> +<p>That he had ridden all that long, rough way merely +to see her she was not vain enough to believe; but she +had, nevertheless, something of every woman’s secret +belief in her individual charm. Cavanagh had shown +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +a flattering interest in her, and his wish to be her protector +filled her with joy and confidence.</p> +<p>She heard a good deal more about this particular +forest ranger next morning at breakfast. “He is throwing +himself away,” Mrs. Redfield passionately declared. +“Think of a man of Ross’s refinement living in a mountain +shack miles from anybody, watching poachers, +marking trees, and cooking his own food. It’s a shameful +waste of genius.”</p> +<p>“That’s as you look at it, my dear,” responded Redfield. +“Ross is the guardian of an immense treasure-chest +which belongs to the nation. Furthermore, he is +quite certain—as I am—that this Forest Service is the +policy of the future, and that it offers fine chances for +promotion—and then, finally, he likes it.”</p> +<p>“That is all well enough for a young man; but Ross is +at least thirty-five, and should be thinking of settling +down. I can’t understand his point of view.”</p> +<p>“My dear, you have never seen the procession of the +seasons from such a point of view as that which he enjoys.”</p> +<p>“No, and I do not care to. It is quite lonely enough +for me right here.”</p> +<p>Redfield looked at Lee with comic blankness. “Mrs. +Redfield is hopelessly urban. As the wife of a forest +supervisor, she cares more for pavements and tram-cars +than for the most splendid mountain park.”</p> +<p>“I most certainly do,” his wife vigorously agreed. +“And if I had my way we should be living in London.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span></p> +<p>“Listen to that! She’s ten times more English than +Mrs. Enderby.”</p> +<p>“I’m not; but I long for the civilized instead of the +wild. I like comfort and society.”</p> +<p>“So do I,” returned he.</p> +<p>“Yes; the comfort of an easy-chair on the porch and +the society of your forest rangers. This ranch life +is all very well for a summer outing, but to be tied down +here all the year round is to be denied one’s birthright as +a modern.”</p> +<p>All this more or less cheerful complaint expressed the +minds of many others who live amid these superb scenes. +When autumn comes, when the sky is gray and the peaks +are hid in mist, they long for the music, the lights, the +comfort of the city; but when the April sun begins to go +down in a smother of crimson and flame, and the mountains +loom with epic dignity, or when at dawn the air is +like some divine flood descending from the unstained +mysterious heights, then the dweller in the foot-hills cries +out: “How fortunate we are! Here is health and happiness! +Here poverty is unknown!” One side of the +girl was of this strain, the other was of the character +described by her hostess. She began to see that Ross +Cavanagh was fitted for higher duties than those of +forest guard.</p> +<p>Mrs. Redfield was becoming more and more interested +in this child, who had not merely the malodorous reputation +of her mother to contend with, but the memory +of a traitorous sire to live down; and when Lee Virginia +went to her room to pack her bag, the wife turned to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +husband and said: “What are we to think of heredity +when we see a thoroughly nice girl like that rise out of the +union of a desperado with a vixen?”</p> +<p>Redfield answered: “It is unaccountable. I knew +her father well; he was a reckless daredevil, with less +real courage in him than there is in old Lize; but I can’t +tell the girl that. She is sufficiently humiliated by her +mother; she takes comfort in the thought that her father +at least was brave and heroic.”</p> +<p>“I don’t believe in heredity as I did once,” his wife +resumed. “Aren’t scientific men rather divided about +it?”</p> +<p>“Yes, there are those who deny that there is any inheritance +of the spirit, of character, insisting that the +laws of transmission affect the body only. Lee is certainly +like her father in looks. He was a handsome +rascal.”</p> +<p>“Ross is terribly smitten with her.”</p> +<p>Redfield coughed, uneasily. “I hope not. Of course +he admires her, as any man must. She’s physically attractive, +very attractive, and, besides, Ross is as susceptible +as a cow-puncher. He was deeply impressed +the first time he saw her, I could see that.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t like his going out on the veranda with her +last night,” continued Mrs. Redfield, “and when they +came in her eyes and color indicated that he’d been +saying something exciting to her. Hugh, Ross Cavanagh +must not get involved with that girl. It’s your duty as +his superior to warn him.”</p> +<p>“He’s fully grown, my dear, and a bit dictatorial on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +his own part. I’m a trifle timid about cutting in on +his private affairs.”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll do it. Marriage with a girl like that is +out of the question. Think what his sisters would say.”</p> +<p>Redfield smiled a bit satirically. “To the outsider +a forest ranger at $900 a year and find himself and horses +is not what you may call a brilliant catch.”</p> +<p>“Oh, well, the outsider is no judge. Ross Cavanagh +is a gentleman, and, besides, he’s sure to be promoted. +I acknowledge the girl’s charms, and I don’t understand +it. When I think of her objectively as Lize Wetherford’s +girl I wonder at her being in my house. When I +see her I want her to stay with me; I want to hug +her.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps we’ve been unjust to Lize all along,” suggested +Redfield. “She has remained faithful to Ed +Wetherford’s memory all these years—that is conceded. +Doesn’t that argue some unusual quality? How many +women do we know who are capable of such loyalty? +Come, now! Lize is a rough piece of goods, I’ll admit, +and her fly-bit lunch-counter was a public nuisance; +but she had the courage to send her girl away to be +educated, denying herself the joy of seeing her develop +by her side. We mustn’t permit our prejudices to run +away with us.”</p> +<p>The girl’s return put a stop to the discussion, which +could end in nothing but confusion anyway.</p> +<p>Lee Virginia said good-bye to Mrs. Redfield with +grateful appreciation of her kindness, and especially +of her invitation to come again, and the tears in her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +eyes profoundly affected the older woman, who, with a +friendliness which was something more than politeness, +invited her to come again. “Whenever Roaring Fork +gets on your nerves we’ll be very glad to rescue you,” she +said in parting.</p> +<p>Hugh Redfield the girl thoroughly understood and +loved, he was so simple-hearted and so loyal. His +bitter criticisms of the West were not uttered in a destructive +mood—quite the contrary. His work was constructive +in the highest degree. He was profoundly impatient +of America’s shortcomings, for the reason that +he deeply felt her responsibility to the rest of the world. +His knowledge of other republics and “limited monarchies” +gave his suggestions power and penetration; +and even Bridges, besotted in his provincial selfishness, +had advised his selection as Supervisor. Of his own +fitness for the work, Redfield himself took a dispassionate +view. “I am only filling the place till the right man +comes along,” he said to his friends. “The man before +me was a half-hearted and shifty advocate. I am +an enthusiast without special training; by-and-by the +real forester will come to take my place.”</p> +<p>On the way to the office, he said to Lee: “I will talk +to the doctor if you like.”</p> +<p>“I wish you would,” she responded, fervently.</p> +<p>She remained in the machine while he went in, and as +she sat there a train passed on its downward eastward +run, and a feeling of loneliness, of helplessness, filled her +heart. She had written many brave letters to her Eastern +friends, but the vital contests, the important factors of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +her life, she had not mentioned. She had given no hint +of her mother’s physical and moral degeneration, and +she had set down no word of her longing to return; but +now that she was within sight of the railway the call of +the East, the temptation to escape all her discomforts, was +almost great enough to carry her away; but into her mind +came the thought of the ranger riding his solitary way, +and she turned her face to her own duties once more, +comforted by the words of praise he had spoken and by +the blaze of admiration in his eyes.</p> +<p>Redfield came out, followed by a small man carrying +a neat bag. He was of surpassing ugliness, and yet she +liked him. His mouth had a curious twist. He had no +chin to speak of, and his bright eyes protruded like those +of a beetle. His voice, however, was surprisingly fine +and resonant.</p> +<p>“You’d better sit behind, Doctor,” said Redfield. “I +shall be very busy on this trip.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” replied the other, “if Miss Wetherford +remains beside me; otherwise I shall rebel.” He was +of those small, plain men whose absurd gallantry is never +taken seriously by women, and yet is something more +than pretence.</p> +<p>He began by asking a few questions about her mother’s +way of life, but as Lee was not very explicit, he became +impersonal, and talked of whatsoever came into his +mind—motor-cars, irrigation, hunting, flowers—anything +at all; and the girl had nothing to do but to utter an +occasional phrase to show that she was listening. It was +all rather depressing to her, for she could not understand +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +how a man so garrulous could be a good physician. She +was quite sure her mother would not treat him with the +slightest respect.</p> +<p>After all, he talked well. His stream of conversation +shortened the way for her, and she was surprised when +they topped the last ridge and the Fork could be seen +lying before them in the valley. Soon they were rolling +quietly up the street to the door of the Wetherford House.</p> +<p>Springing out unaided, Lee hurried in, hoping to prepare +her mother for the shock of the little physician’s unimposing +appearance, while Redfield remained behind to +arm the physician for his encounter. “Now, Doctor, +Mrs. Wetherford is a very singular and plain-spoken +person. She’s quite likely to swear like a man, but she +will perform like a woman. Don’t mind what she says; +go ahead in your own way. Will you wait till after +dinner, or shall I—”</p> +<p>“No, I shall make the examination first—while I’m +hungry. My mind works quicker. I can’t diagnose +properly on a full stomach.”</p> +<p>“Very well; line up with me, and together we’ll beard +the old grizzly in her den.”</p> +<p>They found Lize on duty behind the counter as usual. +Her face was dejected, her eyes dull, but as she caught +sight of the strange little man, she cried out: “Lord God, +Reddy, why didn’t you bring me a <i>man</i>?”</p> +<p>“Hush, mother,” cautioned Lee, “this is the famous +Eastern physician.”</p> +<p>“You can’t be famous for your beauty—you must be +brainy,” she remarked to herself in the stranger’s hearing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></p> +<p>Redfield presented “Doctor Fessenden, of Omaha.”</p> +<p>She started again on contemptuous ways, but was +stopped by the little man. “Get down out o’ that +chair!” he commanded. “My time is money!”</p> +<p>Lize flushed with surprise and anger, but obeyed, and +Lee Virginia, secretly delighted with the physician’s imperative +manner, led the way into the lodging-house. +“I’ll look after the cash, mother,” she said. “Don’t +worry.”</p> +<p>“I’m not worryin’,” she replied; “but what does that +little whelp mean by talking to me like that? I’ll swat +him one if he isn’t careful!”</p> +<p>“It’s his way. Please don’t anger him. You need +his help.”</p> +<p>The doctor interfered. “Now, madam, strip, and let’s +see what’s the matter with you,” whereupon he laid off +his coat, and opened his box of instruments.</p> +<p>Lee fled, and Redfield, who had remained standing +beside the counter, could not repress a smile. “She’s +caught a tartar this time. He’s a little tiger, isn’t he? +I had prepared him for war, but I didn’t expect him to +fly at her that way.”</p> +<p>“Poor mother! how dreadfully ill she looks to-day. +I hope the doctor will order her to rest.”</p> +<p>“But will she obey? I’ve argued that with her. She +keeps saying she will, but she won’t.”</p> +<p>It was nearly one, but the customers were coming in, +and the girl, laying aside her hat and veil, took her +seat at the cash-register, while Redfield went out to put +his machine in order for the return trip. She realized +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +that she was now at close-hand grapple with life. For +the most part she had been able, up to this time, to keep +in the background, and to avoid the eyes of the rough +men who came and went before her mother’s seat. But +now she was not merely exposed to their bold glances; +she was in a position where each man could make excuse +to stop and demand a word what time his change was +being counted.</p> +<p>Her glowing cheeks, her pretty dress, made her a shining +mark, and the men began at once to improve their +opportunity by asking, “Where’s Lize?” And this +embarrassed her, for the reason that she did not care +to go into the cause of her mother’s temporary absence, +and, perceiving her confusion, one of them passed to +coarse compliment. “There’s nothing the matter with +you,” he said, with a leer. Others, though coarse, were +kindly in their familiarity, and Sifton, with gentle face, +remained to help her bear the jests of the more uncouth +and indelicate of her admirers.</p> +<p>Perceiving her nervousness, Neill Ballard raised loud +outcry over a mistake she made in returning change, and +this so confused and angered her that her eyes misted +with tears, and she blundered sadly with the next customer. +His delight in her discomfiture, his words, his +grin became unendurable, and in a flush of rage and +despair she sprang to her feet and left them to make +triumphant exit. “I got her rattled!” he roared, as he +went out. “She’ll remember me.”</p> +<p>The diners were all smiling, and Gregg took a malicious +satisfaction in her defeat. She had held herself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +haughtily apart from him, and he was glad to see her +humbled.</p> +<p>Leaving her place behind the counter, she walked +through the room with uplifted head and burning eyes, +her heart filled with bitterness and fire. She hated the +whole town, the whole State, at the moment. Were these +“the chivalrous short-grass knights” she had heard so +much about? These the large-souled “Western founders +of empire”? At the moment she was in the belief +that all the heroes of her childhood had been +of the stamp of Neill Ballard—selfish, lustful, and +cruel.</p> +<p>In the hall her pride, her sense of duty, came back to +her, and she halted her fleeing feet. “I will not be +beaten!” she declared, and her lips straightened. “I +will not let these dreadful creatures make a fool of me +in that way!”</p> +<p>Thereupon she turned and went back, pale now, but +resolved to prove herself the mistress of the situation. +Fortunately Redfield had returned, and his serene +presence helped her to recover complete control of herself. +She remained coldly blank to every compliment, +and by this means she subdued them. “Why doesn’t +the doctor return for his dinner?” she asked, after the +room had cleared. The desire to know her mother’s real +condition at last quite subordinated her own besetments. +To some of the older men whom she knew to be neighbors +and friends she gladly explained the situation, and +their sympathy did something to restore her faith in +humankind. Nevertheless, this hour of unprotected +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +intercourse with the citizens of the town was disturbing, +humiliating, and embittering.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>The doctor appearing suddenly in the door beckoned +to her, and, leaving her place, she crossed to where he +stood. “Your mother needs you,” he said, curtly. “Go +to her, and keep her quiet for an hour or two if you can.”</p> +<p>“What is the matter, doctor?”</p> +<p>“I can’t tell you precisely, but you must get her on a +diet and keep her there. I will write out some lists for +you after my luncheon.”</p> +<p>Lee found her mother sitting in such dejection as she +had never known her to display, though she fired up +sufficiently to say: “That cussed little thimble-rigger has +been throwing a great big scare into me. He says I’ve +got to get out-doors, live on raw meat and weak tea, and +walk five miles a day. That’s what he says!” she added, +in renewed astonishment at the man’s audacity. “Who’s +at the cash?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Redfield,” replied Lee. “I’ll go right back.”</p> +<p>“No you won’t, I’m no dead horse yet.” She struggled +to her feet and started for the cash-register. “I won’t +let no little Omaha doughgie like that put me out o’ +business.”</p> +<p>Despite all warnings, she walked out into the dining-room +and took her accustomed seat with set and stern +face, while her daughter went to the table where the +doctor sat, and explained her inability to manage her +mother.</p> +<p>“That’s <i>your</i> problem,” he replied, coolly. Then +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +rapidly, succinctly, and clearly he went over the case, +and laid out a course of treatment. Out of it all Lee +deduced that her mother was very ill indeed, though not +in danger of sudden death.</p> +<p>“She’s on the chute,” said Fessenden, “and everything +depends upon her own action whether she takes +the plunge this winter or twenty years from now. She’s +a strong woman—or has been—but she has presumed +upon her strength. She used to live out-of-doors, she +tells me, during all her early life, and now, shut in by +these walls, working sixteen hours a day, she is killing +herself. Get her out if you can, and cut out stimulants.”</p> +<p>As he rose and approached the counter, Lize shoved a +couple of gold pieces across the board. “That wipes +you off my map,” she grimly declared. “I hope you +enjoyed your ride.”</p> +<p>“It’s up to you, madam,” he replied, pocketing the +gold. “Good-day!”</p> +<p>Lee followed him out to the car, eager to secure all she +could of his wisdom. He repeated his instructions. +“Medicine can’t help her much,” he said, “but diet can +do a great deal. Get her out of that rut she’s in. Good-bye.”</p> +<p>“I’ll be down again in a day or two!” called Redfield.</p> +<p>The machine began to purr and spit and the wheels +to spin, and Lee Virginia was left to face her mother’s +obstinate resistance alone. She felt suddenly very desolate, +very weak, and very poor. “What if mother should +die?” she asked herself.</p> +<p>Gregg was standing before the counter talking with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +Lize as Lee returned, and he said, with a broad smile: +“I’ve just been saying I’d take this hotel off your mother’s +hands provided you went with it.”</p> +<p>In the mouths of some men these words would have +been harmless enough, but coming from the tongue of +one whose life could only be obscurely hinted at the +jest was an insult. The girl shuddered with repulsion, +and Lize spoke out:</p> +<p>“Now see here, Bullfrog, I’m dead on the hoof and +all that, but neither you nor any other citizen like you can +be funny with my girl. She’s not for you. Now that’s +final! She ain’t your kind.”</p> +<p>Gregg’s smile died into a gray, set smirk, and his +eyes took on a steely glint. He knew when the naked, +unadorned truth was spoken to him. Words came slowly +to his lips, but he said: “You’ll be glad to come to me +for help some day—both of you.”</p> +<p>“Oh, get along! You don’t hold no mortgage on +me,” retorted Lize, contemptuously, and turned to Lee. +“I’m hungry. Where’s that grub chart o’ mine?”</p> +<p>Lee brought the doctor’s page of notes and read it +through, while her mother snorted at intervals: “Hah! +dry toast, weak tea, no coffee, no alcohol. Huh! I +might as well starve! Eggs—fish—milk! Why didn’t he +say boiled live lobsters and champagne? I tell you right +now, I’m not going to go into that kind of a game. If +I die I’m going to die eating what I blame please.”</p> +<p>The struggle had begun. With desperate courage +Lee fought, standing squarely in the rut of her mother’s +daily habit. “You must not hive up here any longer,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +she insisted; “you must get out and walk and ride. I +can take care of the house—at least, till we can sell it.”</p> +<p>It was like breaking the pride of an athlete, but little +by little she forced upon her mother a realization of her +true condition, and at last Lize consented to offer the +business for sale. Then she wept (for the first time in +years), and the sight moved her daughter much as the +sobs of a strong man would have done.</p> +<p>She longed for the presence of Ross Cavanagh at this +moment, when all her little world seemed tumbling into +ruin; and almost in answer to her wordless prayer came +a messenger from the little telephone office: “Some one +wants to talk to you.”</p> +<p>She answered this call hurriedly, thinking at first that +it must be Mrs. Redfield. The booth was in the little +sitting-room of a private cottage, and the mistress of the +place, a shrewd little woman with inquisitive eyes, said: +“Sounds to me like Ross Cavanagh’s voice.”</p> +<p>Lee was thankful for the booth’s privacy, for her +cheeks flamed up at this remark; and when she took up +the receiver her heart was beating so loud it seemed as +if the person at the other end of the wire must hear it. +“Who is it, please?” she asked, with breathless intensity.</p> +<p>A man’s voice came back over the wire so clear, so +distinct, so intimate, it seemed as if he were speaking into +her ear. “It is I, Ross Cavanagh. I want to ask how +your mother is?”</p> +<p>“She is terribly disheartened by what the doctor has +said, but she is in no immediate danger.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span></p> +<p>He perceived her agitation, and was instantly sympathetic. +“Can I be of use—do you need me? If you +do, I’ll come down.”</p> +<p>“Where are you?”</p> +<p>“I am at the sawmill—the nearest telephone station.”</p> +<p>“How far away are you?”</p> +<p>“About thirty miles.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” She expressed in this little sound her disappointment, +and as it trembled over the wire he spoke +quickly: “Please tell me! Do you want me to come +down? Never mind the distance—I can ride it in a +few hours.”</p> +<p>She was tempted, but bravely said: “No; I’d like to +see you, of course, but the doctor said mother was in no +danger. You must not come on our account.”</p> +<p>He felt the wonder of the moment’s intercourse over +the wilderness steeps, and said so. “You can’t imagine +how strangely sweet and civilized your voice sounds to +me here in this savage place. It makes me hope that +some day you and Mrs. Redfield will come up and visit +me in person.”</p> +<p>“I should like to come.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps it would do your mother good to camp for +a while. Can’t you persuade her to do so?”</p> +<p>“I’m trying to do that—I mean, to stop work; but +she says, ‘What can we do to earn a living?’”</p> +<p>“If nothing happens I hope to spend an hour or two +at the Forks next Sunday. I hope to find your mother +better.”</p> +<p>Their words were of this unemotional sort, but in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +their voices something subtler than the electrical current +vibrated. He called to her in wordless fashion and +she answered in the same mysterious code, and when +she said “Good-bye” and hung up the receiver her world +went suddenly gray and commonplace, as if a ray of +special sunlight had been withdrawn.</p> +<p>The attendant asked, with village bluntness: “It <i>was</i> +Ross, wasn’t it?”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia resented this almost as much as if it +were the question of an eavesdropper; but she answered: +“Yes; he wanted to know how my mother was.”</p> +<p>She turned as she reached the street and looked up +toward the glorious purpling deeps from which the +ranger’s voice had come, and the thought that he was +the sole guardian of those dark forests and shining +streams—that his way led among those towering peaks +and lone canons—made of him something altogether +admirable.</p> +<p>That night her loneliness, her sense of weakness, carried +her to bed with tears of despair in her eyes. Lize +had insisted on going back to her work looking like one +stricken with death, yet so rebellious that her daughter +could do nothing with her; and in the nature of fate the +day’s business had been greater than ever, so that they +had all been forced to work like slaves to feed the flood +of custom. And Lize herself still kept her vigil in her +chair above her gold.</p> +<p>Closing her mind to the town and all it meant to her, +the girl tried to follow, in imagination, the ranger treading +his far, high trails. She recalled his voice, so cultivated, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +so rich of inflection, with dangerous tenderness. +It had come down to her from those lofty parapets like +that of a friend, laden with something sweeter than +sympathy, more alluring than song.</p> +<p>The thought of some time going up to the high country +where he dwelt came to her most insistently, and she +permitted herself to dream of long days of companionship +with him, of riding through sunlit aisles of forest +with him, of cooking for him at the cabin—what time +her mother grew strong once more—and these dreams +bred in her heart a wistful ache, a hungry need which +made her pillow a place of mingled ecstasy and pain.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VII_THE_POACHERS' id='VII_THE_POACHERS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +<h2>VII</h2> +<h3>THE POACHERS</h3> +</div> + +<p>One morning, as he topped the rise between the sawmill +and his own station, Cavanagh heard two rifle-shots +in quick succession snapping across the high peak on +his left. Bringing his horse to a stand, he unslung his +field-glasses, and slowly and minutely swept the tawny +slopes of Sheep Mountain from which the forbidden +sounds seemed to come.</p> +<p>“A herder shooting coyotes,” was his first thought; +then remembering that there were no camps in that +direction, and that a flock of mountain-sheep (which he +had been guarding carefully) habitually fed round that +grassy peak, his mind changed. “I wonder if those +fellows are after those sheep?” he mused, as he angled +down the slope. “I reckon it’s up to me to see.”</p> +<p>He was tired and hungry, a huge moraine lay between, +and the trail was long and rough. “To catch them in the +act is impossible. However,” he reflected, “they have but +two trails along which to descend. One of these passes +my door, and the other, a very difficult trail, leads down the +South Fork. I’ll have time to get breakfast and change +horses. They’ll probably wait till night before attempting +to go out, anyway.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></p> +<p>In less than three hours he was over on the trail in the +canon, quite certain that the hunters were still above him. +He rode quietly up the valley, pausing often to listen +and to scrutinize the landscape; but no sign of camp-fire +and no further rifle-shots came, and at last he went +into camp upon the trail, resolved to wait till the poachers +appeared, a ward which his experience as a soldier +helped him to maintain without nodding.</p> +<p>In these long hours his thought played about the remembrance +of his last visit to the Fork and his hour with +Lee. He wondered what she was doing at the moment. +How charming she had looked there at Redfields’—so +girlish in form, so serious and womanly of face!</p> +<p>He felt as never before the ineludible loneliness of the +ranger’s life. Here he sat in the midst of a mighty forest +with many hostile minds all about him, and it must be +confessed he began to wonder whether his services to the +nation were worth so much hardship, such complete +isolation. The stream sang of the eternities, and his +own short span of life (half gone already without any +permanent accomplishment) seemed pitifully ephemeral. +The guardians of these high places must forever be +solitary. No ranger could rightfully be husband and +father, for to bring women and children into these +solitudes would be cruel.</p> +<p>He put all this aside—for the time—by remembering +that he was a soldier under orders, and that marriage +was a long way off, and so smoked his pipe and waited +for the dawn, persistent as a Sioux, and as silent as a fox.</p> +<p>At daylight, there being still no sign of his quarry, he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +saddled his horse, and was about to ride up the trail +when he caught the sound of voices and the sharp click +of iron hoofs on the rocks above him. With his horse’s +bridle on his arm he awaited the approaching horseman, +resolute and ready to act.</p> +<p>As the marauders rounded the elbow in the trail, he +was surprised to recognize in the leader young Gregg. +The other man was a stranger, an older man, with a +grizzled beard, and tall and stooping figure.</p> +<p>“Hello Joe,” called the ranger, “you’re astir early!”</p> +<p>The youth’s fat face remained imperturbable, but his +eyes betrayed uneasiness. “Yes, it’s a long pull into +town.”</p> +<p>“Been hunting?” queried the ranger, still with cheery, +polite interest.</p> +<p>“Oh no; just visiting one of my sheep-camps.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh’s voice was a little less suave. “Not on +this creek,” he declared. “I moved your herder last +week.” He walked forward. “That’s a heavy load for +a short trip to a sheep-camp.” He put his hand on the +pack. “I guess you’ll have to open this, for I heard +two shots yesterday morning up where that flock of +mountain-sheep is running, and, furthermore, I can see +blood-stains on this saddle-blanket.”</p> +<p>Neither of the men made answer, but the old man +turned an inquiring look at his young leader.</p> +<p>The ranger flung his next sentence out like the lash +of a whip. “Open this sack or I cut the ropes!”</p> +<p>Gregg threw out a hand in command. “<i>Open it up, +Edwards!</i>” he said, sullenly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span></p> +<p>With mechanical readiness the guide alighted from +his horse, loosened the cinch on the pack-horse, and disclosed +the usual camp-bed.</p> +<p>“Put off that bedding!” insisted the ranger.</p> +<p>Off came the outfit, and under the tent lay the noble +head of a wild ram—a look of reproach still in his splendid +yellow eyes.</p> +<p>Cavanagh’s face hardened. “I thought so. Now +heave it back and cinch up. It’s you to the nearest +magistrate, which happens to be Higley, of Roaring +Fork. I’ll make an example of you fellows.”</p> +<p>There was nothing for Gregg to say and nothing for +Edwards to do but obey, for a resolute ranger with +an excellent weapon of the latest and most approved +angular pattern stood ready to enforce his command; +and when the pack was recinched, Cavanagh waved an +imperative hand. “I guess I’ll have to take charge of +your guns,” he said, and they yielded without a word +of protest. “Now march! Take the left-hand trail. +I’ll be close behind.”</p> +<p>A couple of hours of silent travel brought them to the +ranger’s cabin, and there he ordered a dismount.</p> +<p>As the coffee was boiling he lectured them briefly. +“You fellows are not entirely to blame,” he remarked, +philosophically. “You’ve been educated to think a +game warden a joke and Uncle Sam a long way off. +But things have changed a bit. The law of the State +has made me game warden, and I’m going to show you +how it works. It’s my duty to see that you go down the +road—and down you go!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></p> +<p>Edwards, the guide, was plainly very uneasy, and +made several attempts to reach Cavanagh’s private ear, +and at last succeeded. “I’ve been fooled into this,” he +urged. “I was hard up and a stranger in the country, +and this young fellow hired me to guide him across the +range. I didn’t shoot a thing. I swear I didn’t. If +you’ll let me off, I’ll hit the trail to the West and never +look back. For God’s sake, don’t take me down the +road! Let me off.”</p> +<p>“I can’t do that,” replied Cavanagh; but his tone was +kindlier, for he perceived that the old fellow was thin, +hollow-chested, and poorly clad. “You knew you were +breaking the laws, didn’t you?”</p> +<p>This the culprit admitted. “But I was working for +Sam Gregg, and when Joe asked me to go show him +the trail, I didn’t expect to get cinched for killing +game. I didn’t fire a shot—now that’s the God’s +truth.”</p> +<p>“Nevertheless,” retorted Ross, “you were packing +the head, and I must count you in the game.”</p> +<p>Edwards fell silent then, but something in his look +deepened the ranger’s pity. His eyes were large and +dark, and his face so emaciated that he seemed fit only +for a sanitarium.</p> +<p>The trip to the Fork (timed to the gait of a lazy pack-horse) +was a tedious eight hours’ march, and it was +nearly seven o’clock when they arrived at the outskirts +of the village. There had been very few words spoken +by Cavanagh, and those which the prisoners uttered +were not calculated to cheer the way. Joe blamed his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +guide for their mishap. “You should have known how +far the sound of our guns would carry,” he said.</p> +<p>As they were nearing the village he called out: “See +here, Cavanagh, there’s no use taking me through town +under arrest. I’ll cough up all we got right now. How +much is the damage?”</p> +<p>“I can’t receive your fine,” replied Ross, “and, besides, +you took your chances when you shot that sheep. You +lost out, and I’m not going to let you off. This poaching +must stop. You go right along with your guide.”</p> +<p>Again Edwards drew near, and pled in a low voice: +“See here, Mr. Ranger, I have special reasons why I +don’t want to go into this town under arrest. I wish +you’d let me explain.”</p> +<p>There was deep emotion in his voice, but Ross was +firm. “I’m sorry for you,” he said, “but my duty requires +me to take you before a magistrate—”</p> +<p>“But you don’t know my case,” he replied, with bitter +intensity. “I’m out ‘on parole.’ I can’t afford to be +arrested in this way. Don’t you see?”</p> +<p>Ross looked at him closely. “<i>Are</i> you telling me the +truth?”</p> +<p>“Would you have mercy on me if I were?”</p> +<p>“I should be sorry for you, but I couldn’t let you +go.”</p> +<p>“You won’t believe me, but it’s the God Almighty’s +truth: I didn’t know Joe intended to kill that sheep. +He asked me to show him over the pass. I had no intention +of killing anything. I wish to God you would +let me go!” His voice was tense with pleading. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></p> +<p>“How about this, Gregg?” called Ross. “Your guide +insists he had no hand in killing the ram?”</p> +<p>“He fired first, and I fired and finished him,” retorted +Gregg.</p> +<p>“’Twas the other way,” declared Edwards. “The +beast was crippled and escaping—I killed him with my +revolver. I didn’t want to see him go off and die—”</p> +<p>“I guess that settles it,” said Cavanagh, decisively. +“You take your medicine with Joe. If the justice wants +to let you off easy, I can’t help it, but to turn you loose +now would mean disloyalty to the service. Climb back +into your saddle.”</p> +<p>Edwards turned away with shaking hands and unsteady +step. “All right,” he said, “I’ll meet it.” He +came back to say: “There’s no need of your saying anything +about what I’ve told you.”</p> +<p>“No, you are a stranger to me. I know nothing of +your life except that I found you with Joe, with this pack +on your horse.”</p> +<p>“Much obliged,” said he, with a touch of bitter humor.</p> +<p>To the casual observer in a town of this character there +was nothing specially noticeable in three horsemen +driving a pack-horse, but to those whose eyes were keen +the true relationship of the ranger to his captives was +instantly apparent, and when they alighted at Judge +Higley’s office a bunch of eager observers quickly +collected.</p> +<p>“Hello Joe, what luck?” called Ballard.</p> +<p>“Our luck was a little too good—we caught a game +warden,” replied the young scapegrace. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></p> +<p>The ranger was chagrined to find the office of the +justice closed for the day, and, turning to his captives, +said: “I’m hungry, and I’ve no doubt you are. I’m going +to take you into Mike Halsey’s saloon for supper, but +remember you are my prisoners.” And to the little +old remittance man, Sifton, who caught his eye, he explained +his need of a justice and the town marshal.</p> +<p>“I’ll try to find the judge,” replied Sifton, with ready +good-will, and at a sign from the ranger, Gregg and his +herder entered the saloon.</p> +<p>In fifteen minutes the town was rumbling with the +news. Under Ballard’s devilry, all the latent hatred of +the ranger and all the concealed opposition to the +Forest Service came to the surface like the scum on a pot +of broth. The saloons and eating-houses boiled with +indignant protest. “What business is it of Ross Cavanagh’s?” +they demanded. “What call has he to interfere? +He’s not a game warden.”</p> +<p>“Yes he is. All these rangers are game wardens,” +corrected another.</p> +<p>“No, they’re not. They have to be commissioned by +the Governor.”</p> +<p>“Well, he’s been commissioned; he’s warden all right.”</p> +<p>“I don’t believe it. Anyhow, he’s too fresh. He +needs to have a halt. Let’s do him. Let’s bluff him +out.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia was in the kitchen superintending the +service when one of the waiters came in, breathless with +excitement. “Ross Cavanagh has shot Joe Gregg for +killing sheep!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></p> +<p>Lee faced her with blanched face. “Who told you +so?”</p> +<p>“They’re all talking about it out there. Gee! but +they’re hot. Some of ’em want to lynch him.”</p> +<p>Lee hurried out into the dining-room, which was +crowded with men and voicing deep excitement. Anger +was in the air—a stormy rage, perceptible as a hot blast; +and as she passed one table after another she heard ugly +phrases applied to Cavanagh.</p> +<p>A half-dozen men were standing before the counter +talking with Lize, but Lee pushed in to inquire with +white, inquiring face: “What is it all about? What +has happened?”</p> +<p>“Nothing much,” Lize replied, contemptuously, “but +you’d think a horse had been stole. Ross has nipped +Joe Gregg and one of his herders for killing mountain-sheep.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean he shot them?”</p> +<p>“Yes; he took their heads.”</p> +<p>Lee stood aghast. “What do you mean? Whose +heads?”</p> +<p>Lize laughed. “The sheeps’ heads. Oh, don’t be +scared, no one is hurt yet!”</p> +<p>The girl flushed with confusion as the men roared +over her blunder. “One of the girls told me Mr. Cavanagh +had killed a man,” she explained. “Where is he?”</p> +<p>Lize betrayed annoyance. “They say he’s taking +supper at Mike Halsey’s, though why he didn’t come +here I don’t see. What’s he going to do?” she asked. +“Won’t the marshal take the men off his hands?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></p> +<p>“Not without warrant from Higley, and Higley is +out of town. Ross’ll have to hold ’em till Higley gets +back, or else take ’em over to Chauvenet,” Lize snorted. +“Old Higley! Yes, he’s been known to disappear before +when there was some real work to be done.”</p> +<p>The girl looked about her with a sharpening realization +of the fact that all these men were squarely opposed +to the ranger, and rather glad to know that his guardianship +of the poachers was to be rendered troublesome. +She could hear on all sides bitter curses openly directed +against him. How little of real manliness could be detected +in these grinning or malignant faces! Ill-formed, +half-developed, bestial most of them, while others, though +weakly good-humored, were ready to go with whatever +current of strong passion blew upon them. Over against +such creatures Ross Cavanagh stood off in heroic contrast—a +man with work to do, and doing it like a patriot.</p> +<p>She went back to her own task with a vague sense of +alarm. “Certainly they will not dare to interfere with +an officer in the discharge of his duties,” she thought. +She was eager to see him, and the thought that he might +be obliged to ride away to Chauvenet without a word to +her gave her a deeper feeling of annoyance and unrest. +That he was in any real danger she could not believe.</p> +<p>It was disheartening to Cavanagh to see how some of +the most influential citizens contrived to give encouragement +to the riotous element of the town. A wink, a +gesture, a careless word to the proper messenger, conveyed +to the saloon rounders an assurance of sympathy +which inflamed their resentment to the murderous point. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></p> +<p>The truth is, this little village, sixty miles from the +railway, still retained in its dives and shanties the +lingering miasma of the old-time free-range barbarism. +It trailed a dark history on its legal side as well as on its +openly violent side, for it had been one of the centres of +the Rustler’s War, and one of the chief points of attack +on the part of the cattle-barons. It was still a rendezvous +for desperate and shameless characters—a place +of derelicts, survivals of the days of deep drinking, furious +riding, and ready gun-play.</p> +<p>True, its famous desperadoes were now either dead or +distantly occupied; but the mantle of violence, the tradition +of lawlessness, had fallen to the seedy old cow-punchers +and to the raw and vulgar youths from the ill-conditioned +homes of the middle West. The air of the +reckless old-time range still clung rancidly in the low +groggeries, as a deadly gas hangs about the lower levels +of a mine. It was confessedly one of the worst communities +in the State.</p> +<p>“Let’s run the sonovagun!” was the suggestion of +several of Gregg’s friends.</p> +<p>The fact that the ranger was a commissioned officer of +the law, and that the ram’s head had been found on the +poacher’s pack, made very little difference to these irresponsible +instigators to assault. It was wonderful +how highly that loafing young rascal, Joe Gregg, was +prized at the moment. “It’s an outrage that the son of +a leading citizen should be held up in this way by one of +the forestry Cossacks,” declared one of the merchants.</p> +<p>The discussion which took place over the bars of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +town was at the riot-heat by nine o’clock, and soon after +ten a crowd of howling, whooping bad boys, and disreputable +ranch-hands was parading the walks, breathing +out vile threats against the ranger.</p> +<p>Accustomed to men of this type, Cavanagh watched +them come and go at Halsey’s bar with calculating eyes. +“There will be no trouble for an hour or two, but meanwhile +what is to be done? Higley is not to be found, +and the town marshal is also ‘out of town.’” To +Halsey he said: “I am acting, as you know, under both +Federal and State authority, and I call upon you as a +law-abiding citizen to aid me in holding these men prisoners. +I shall camp right here till morning, or until the +magistrate or the marshal relieves me of my culprits.”</p> +<p>Halsey was himself a sportsman—a genuine lover of +hunting and a fairly consistent upholder of the game +laws; but perceiving that the whole town had apparently +lined up in opposition to the ranger, he lost courage. +His consent was half-hearted, and he edged away toward +the front window of his bar-room, nervously seeking to +be neutral—“to carry water on both shoulders,” as the +phrase goes.</p> +<p>The talk grew less jocular as the drinks took effect, +and Neill Ballard, separating himself from the crowd, +came forward, calling loudly: “Come out o’ there, Joe! +Youse a hell of a sport! Come out and have a drink!”</p> +<p>His words conveyed less of battle than his tone. He +was, in fact, urging a revolt, and Cavanagh knew it.</p> +<p>Gregg rose as if to comply. The ranger stopped him. +“Keep your seat,” said he. And to Ballard he warningly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +remarked: “And you keep away from my prisoners.”</p> +<p>“Do you own this saloon?” retorted the fellow, truculently. +“I reckon Halsey’s customers have some rights. +What are you doing here, anyway? This is no jail.”</p> +<p>“Halsey has given me the privilege of holding my +prisoners here till the justice is found. It isn’t my fault +that the town is without judge or jail.” He was weakened +by the knowledge that Halsey had only half-consented +to aid justice; but his pride was roused, and he +was determined upon carrying his arrest to its legitimate +end. “I’m going to see that these men are punished if +I have to carry them to Sulphur City,” he added.</p> +<p>“Smash the lights!” shouted some one at the back.</p> +<p>Here was the first real note of war, and Ross cried +out sharply: “If a man lifts a hand toward the light I’ll +cut it off!”</p> +<p>There was a stealthy movement in the crowd, and +leaping upon the counter a reckless cub reached for the +lamp.</p> +<p>Cavanagh’s revolver shattered the globe in the fellow’s +very palm. “Get down from there!” he commanded.</p> +<p>The crowd surged back against the front door, several +drawn weapons shining in their hands. Some of the +faces were a-grin, others were thrust forward like the +heads of snakes, their eyes glittering with hate.</p> +<p>It is an appalling moment to a man of discernment +when he looks into the faces of his fellows and hears +only the laugh of the wolf, the hiss of the snake, the snarl +of the tiger. At the moment Cavanagh despised with a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +measureless contempt the entire commonwealth and its +long-established school of violence; but fixing his thought +on his far-away chief, he lost all fear. His voice was +perfectly calm as he said: “I am wearing the uniform +of the Federal service, and the man that interferes with +me will feel the vengeance of the Federal arm. You +can get me, but I’ll get some of you at the same time, +and the department will get the rest.”</p> +<p>The mob had not found its leader. It hesitated and +blustered but did not strike, and eventually edged out +of the door and disappeared; but the silence which followed +its retreat was more alarming to the ranger than +its presence. Some slyer mischief was in these minds. +He feared that they were about to cut the electric-light +wires, and so plunge him into darkness, and to prepare +for that emergency he called upon the bartender (Halsey +having vanished) for a lamp or a lantern.</p> +<p>The fellow sullenly set about this task, and Ross, turning +to Gregg, said: “If you’ve any influence with this +mob, you’d better use it to keep them out of mischief, +for I’m on this job to the bitter end, and somebody’s +going to be hurt.”</p> +<p>Gregg, who seemed quite detached from the action +and rather delighted with it, replied: “I have no influence. +They don’t care a hang about me; they have +it in for you, that’s all.”</p> +<p>Edwards remained silent, with his hat drawn low over +his eyes. It was evident that he was anxious to avoid +being seen and quite willing to keep out of the conflict; +but with no handcuffs and the back door of the saloon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +unguarded, Ross was aware that his guard must be incessant +and alertly vigilant. “Where are the law-abiding +citizens of the town?” he asked of Sifton, who +remained in the saloon.</p> +<p>The dry little whisp of manhood had some spark of +life in him, for he said: “In their beds, the cowardly +hounds!”</p> +<p>“They must know that this gang of hobos is threatening +me.”</p> +<p>“Certainly they do; but they don’t intend to endanger +their precious hides. They would be well +pleased to have you disabled.”</p> +<p>It was incredible! Low as his estimate of the Fork +had been, Cavanagh could not believe that it would sit +quietly by and see an officer of the State defeated in his +duty. “Such a thing could not happen under the English +flag,” he said, and at the moment his adopted country +seemed a miserable makeshift. Only the thought of +Redfield and the chief nerved him for the long vigil. +“The chief will understand if it comes up to him,” he +said.</p> +<p>Lize Wetherford came hurrying in, looking as though +she had just risen from her bed. She was clothed in a +long red robe, her grizzled hair was loose, her feet were +bare, and she carried a huge old-fashioned revolver in +her hand. Her mouth was stern.</p> +<p>Stopping abruptly as she caught sight of Ross standing +in the middle of the floor unhurt, she exclaimed: +“There you are! Are you all right?”</p> +<p>“As a trivet,” he replied. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></p> +<p>She let her gun-hand relax. “What was the shooting?”</p> +<p>“A little bluff on my part.”</p> +<p>“Anybody hurt?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>She was much relieved. “I was afraid they’d got +you. I came as quick as I could. I was abed. That +fool doctor threw a chill into me, and I’ve been going to +roost early according to orders. I didn’t hear your gun, +but Lee did, and she came to tell me. They’re hell-roaring +down the street yet. Don’t let ’em get behind you. +If I was any good I’d stay and help. Where’s Mike?” +She addressed the tender at the bar.</p> +<p>“I don’t know. Gone home, I guess.”</p> +<p>“Sneaked, has he?”</p> +<p>“So far as I know the only law-upholding citizen in +the place, barring yourself, is Sifton,” said Ross, indicating +the Englishman, who stood as if cold, pressing +his hands together to hide their trembling.</p> +<p>Lize perceived the irony of this. “Two Britishers +and two women! Well, by God, this is a fine old town! +What you going to do—hold your men here all +night?”</p> +<p>“I don’t see any other way. Halsey turned the place +over to me—but—” He looked about him suspiciously.</p> +<p>“Bring ’em into my place. Lee has had new locks +put on our doors; they’ll help some.”</p> +<p>“I don’t like to do that, Mrs. Wetherford,” he replied, +with greater respect than he had ever shown her +before. “They may attack me there.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></p> +<p>“All the better; I’ll be on hand to help—but they’re +less likely to boil in on you through a locked door.”</p> +<p>“But your daughter? It will alarm her.”</p> +<p>“She’ll be in the other house, and, besides, she’d feel +easier if you are in my place. She’s all wrought up by +the attack on you.”</p> +<p>Ross turned to his prisoners. “Follow Mrs. Wetherford +and—eyes front!”</p> +<p>“You needn’t worry about me,” said Joe, “I won’t +run.”</p> +<p>“I don’t intend to give you a chance,” replied Ross.</p> +<p>Edwards seemed to have lost in both courage and +physical stature; he slouched along with shuffling step, +his head bent and his face pale. Ross was now profoundly +sorry for him, so utterly craven and broken was +his look.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VIII_THE_SECOND_ATTACK' id='VIII_THE_SECOND_ATTACK'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +<h2>VIII</h2> +<h3>THE SECOND ATTACK</h3> +</div> + +<p>Lee was waiting on the porch of the hotel, tense with +excitement, straining her ears and eyes to see what was +taking place.</p> +<p>The night had started with a small sickle of moon, but +this had dropped below the range, leaving the street +dark, save where the lights from the windows of the +all-night eating-houses and saloons lay out upon the +walk, and, while she stood peering out, the sound of +rancorous howling and shrill whooping came to her ears +with such suggestion of ferocity that she shivered.</p> +<p>Every good and honorable trait seemed lost out of her +neighbors. She saw the whole country but as a refuge +for criminals, ungovernable youths, and unsexed women—a +wilderness of those who had no regard for any code +of morals which interfered with their own desires. Her +memories of the past freshened as she listened. In +such wise she had shuddered, as a child, while troops +of celebrating cowboys rode up and down the streets. +In such wise, too, the better (and more timid) element of +the town had put out their lights and retired, leaving +their drunken helots and the marshal to fight it out in +vague tumult. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span></p> +<p>A few of the hotel guests had gone to bed, but the +women were up, excited and nervous, starting at every +fresh outburst of whooping, knowing that their sons or +husbands were out in the street “to see the fun,” and +that they might meet trouble.</p> +<p>At last Lee discerned her mother returning from Halsey’s, +followed by three men. Withdrawing from the little +porch whereon she had been standing, she reentered +the house to meet her mother in the hall. “Where is +Mr. Cavanagh?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Out in the dining-room. You see, Mike Halsey is +no kind o’ use. He vamoosed and left Ross down there +alone, with his two prisoners and the lights likely to +be turned out on him. So I offered the caffy as a calaboose. +They are sure in for a long and tedious night.”</p> +<p>Lee was alarmed at her mother’s appearance. “You +must go to bed. You look ghastly.”</p> +<p>“I reckon I’d better lie down for a little while, but I +can’t sleep. Ross may need me. There isn’t a man to +help him but me, and that loafer Ballard is full of gall. +He’s got it in for Ross, and will make trouble if he +can.”</p> +<p>“What can we do?”</p> +<p>“Shoot!” replied Lize, with dry brevity. “I wouldn’t +mind a chance to plug some of the sweet citizens of this +town. I owe them one or two.”</p> +<p>With this sentence in her ears, Lee Virginia went +to her bed, but not to slumber. Her utter inability +either to control her mother’s action or to influence that +of the mob added to her uneasiness. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span></p> +<p>The singing, shouting, trampling of the crowd went +on, and once a group of men halted just outside her +window, and she heard Neill Ballard noisily, drunkenly +arguing as to the most effective method of taking the +prisoners. His utterances, so profane and foul, came to +her like echoes from out an inferno. The voices were +all at the moment like the hissing of serpents, the snarling +of tigers. How dared creatures of this vile type use +words of contempt against Ross Cavanagh?</p> +<p>“Come on, boys!” urged Ballard, his voice filled with +reckless determination. “Let’s run him.”</p> +<p>As they passed, the girl sprang up and went to her +mother’s room to warn her of the threatened attack.</p> +<p>Lize was already awake and calmly loading a second +revolver by the light of the electric bulb.</p> +<p>“What are you doing?” the girl asked, her blood chilling +at sight of the weapon.</p> +<p>“Hell’s to pay out there, and I’m going to help pay +it.” A jarring blow was heard. “Hear that! They’re +breaking in—” She started to leave the room.</p> +<p>Lee stopped her. “Where are you going?”</p> +<p>“To help Ross. Here!” She thrust the handle of +a smaller weapon into Lee’s hand. “Ed Wetherford’s +girl ought to be able to take care of herself. Come on!”</p> +<p>With a most unheroic horror benumbing her limbs, +Lee followed her mother through the hall. The sound +of shouts and the trampling of feet could be heard, and +she came out into the restaurant just in time to photograph +upon her brain a scene whose significance was at +once apparent. On a chair between his two prisoners, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +and confronting Ballard at the head of a crowd of frenzied +villains, stood the ranger, a gleaming weapon in his +hand, a look of resolution on his face.</p> +<p>What he had said, or what he intended to do, she did +not learn, for her mother rushed at the invaders with the +mad bravery of a she-bear. “Get out of here!” she +snarled, thrusting her revolver into the very mouth of +the leader.</p> +<p>They all fell back in astonishment and fear.</p> +<p>Ross leaped to her side. “Leave them to me!” he +said. “I’ll clear the room.”</p> +<p>“Not on your life! This is my house. I have the +right to smash the fools.” And she beat them over the +heads with her pistol-barrel.</p> +<p>Recognizing that she was minded to kill, they retreated +over the threshold, and Ross, drawing the door close +behind them, turned to find Lee Virginia confronting +Edwards, who had attempted to escape into the kitchen. +The girl’s face was white, but the eye of her revolver +stared straight and true into her prisoner’s face.</p> +<p>With a bound Ross seized him and flung him against +the wall. “Get back there!” he shouted. “You must +take your medicine with your boss.”</p> +<p>The old fellow hurriedly replaced his ragged hat, and, +folding his arms, sank back into his chair with bowed +head, while Lize turned upon Joe Gregg. “What the +devil did you go into this kind of deal for? You knew +what the game laws was, didn’t you? Your old dad is +all for State regulation, and here you are breaking a State +law. Why don’t you stand up for the code like a sport?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span></p> +<p>Joe, who had been boasting of the smiles he had drawn +from Lee, did not relish this tongue-lashing from her +mother, but, assuming a careless air, he said, “I’m all +out of smokes; get me a box, that’s a good old soul.”</p> +<p>Lize regarded him with the expression of one nonplussed. +“You impudent little cub!” she exclaimed. +“What you need is a booting!”</p> +<p>The ranger addressed himself to Lee. “I want to +thank you for a very opportune intervention. I didn’t +know you could handle a gun so neatly.”</p> +<p>She flushed with pleasure. “Oh yes, I can shoot. +My father taught me when I was only six years old.”</p> +<p>As she spoke, Ross caught the man Edwards studying +them with furtive glance, but, upon being observed, he +resumed his crouching attitude, which concealed his face +beneath the rim of his weather-worn hat. It was evident +that he was afraid of being recognized. He had the slinking +air of the convict, and his form, so despairing in its +lax lines, appealed to Lee with even greater poignancy +than his face. “I’m sorry,” she said to him, “but it was +my duty to help Mr. Cavanagh.”</p> +<p>He glanced up with a quick sidewise slant. “That’s +all right, miss; I should have had sense enough to keep +out of this business.” He spoke with difficulty, and his +voice was hoarse with emotion.</p> +<p>Lize turned to Lee. “The Doc said ‘no liquor,’ but I +guess here’s where I draw one—I feel faint.”</p> +<p>Ross hurried to her side, while young Gregg tendered +a handsome flask. “Here’s something.”</p> +<p>Lize put it away. “Not from you. Just reach under +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +my desk, Ross; you’ll find some brandy there. That’s +it,” she called, as he produced a bottle. Clutching it +eagerly, she added: “They say it’s poison, but it’s my meat +to-night.”</p> +<p>She was, in truth, very pale, and her hands were trembling +in a weakness that went to her daughter’s heart. +Lee admired her bravery, her manlike readiness of action, +but her words, her manner (now that the stress of the +battle was over), hurt and shamed her. Little remained +of the woman in Lize, and the old sheep-herder eyed her +with furtive curiosity.</p> +<p>“I was afraid you’d shoot,” Lize explained to Ross, +“and I didn’t want you to muss up your hands on the +dirty loafers. I had the right to kill; they were trespassers, +and I’d ‘a’ done it, too.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think they intended to actually assault me,” +he said, “but it’s a bit discouraging to find the town so +indifferent over both the breaking of the laws and the +doings of a drunken mob. I’m afraid the most of them +are a long way from law-abiding people yet.”</p> +<p>Joe, who did not like the position in which he stood as +respecting Lee, here made an offer of aid. “I don’t +suppose my word is any good now, but if you’ll let me +do it I’ll go out and round up Judge Higley. I think I +know where he is.”</p> +<p>To this Lize objected. “You can’t do that, Ross; you +better hold the fort right here till morning.”</p> +<p>Lee was rather sorry, too, for young Gregg, who bore +his buffeting with the imperturbable face of the heroes +of his class. He had gone into this enterprise with much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +the same spirit in which he had stolen gates and misplaced +signs during his brief college career, and he was now +disposed (in the presence of a pretty girl) to carry it out +with undiminished impudence. “It only means a fine, +anyway,” he assured himself.</p> +<p>Cavanagh did not trust Gregg, either, and as this was +the first time he had been called upon to arrest men for +killing game out of season, he could not afford to fail of +any precaution. Tired and sleepy as he was, he must +remain on guard. “But you and your daughter must go +to bed at once,” he urged.</p> +<p>Lize, under the spur of her dram, talked on with bitter +boldness. “I’m going to get out o’ this town as soon as +I can sell. I won’t live in it a minute longer than I have +to. It used to have men into it; now they’re only hobos. +It’s neither the old time nor the new; it’s just a betwixt +and between, with a lot o’ young cubs like Joe Gregg +pretendin’ to be tough. I never thought I’d be sighin’ +for horse-cars, but these rowdy chumps like Neill Ballard +give me a pain. Not one of ’em has sand enough to pull +a gun in the open, but they’d plug you from a dark alley +or fire out of a crowd. It was different in the old days. +I’ve seen men walk out into that street, face each other, +and open fire quiet as molasses. But now it’s all talk and +blow. The <i>men</i> have all grown old or got out.”</p> +<p>To this Gregg listened with expressionless visage, his +eyes dreamily fixed on Lee’s face; but his companion, the +old herder, seemed to palpitate with shame and fear. +And Ross had the feeling at the moment that in this +ragged, unkempt old hobo was the skeleton of one of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +the old-time heroes. He was wasted with drink and +worn by wind and rain, but he was very far from being +commonplace. “Here they come again!” called Lize, +as the hurry of feet along the walk threatened another +attack. Ross Cavanagh again drew his revolver and +stood at guard, and Lize recovering her own weapon +took a place by his side.</p> +<p>With the strength of a bear the new assailant shook +the bolted door. “Let me in!” he roared.</p> +<p>“Go to hell!” replied Lize, calmly.</p> +<p>“It’s dad!” called young Gregg. “Go away, you +chump.”</p> +<p>“Let me in or I’ll smash this door!” retorted Gregg.</p> +<p>“You smash that door, old Bullfrog,” announced +Lize, “and I’ll carry one of your lungs away. I know +your howl—it don’t scare me. I’ve stood off one whole +mob to-night, and I reckon I’m good for you. If you +want to get in here you hunt up the judge of this town +and the constable.”</p> +<p>After a pause Sam called, “Are you there, son?”</p> +<p>“You bet he is,” responded Lize, “and here he’ll stay.”</p> +<p>Joe added: “And you’d better take the lady’s advice, +pop. She has the drop on you.”</p> +<p>The old rancher muttered a fierce curse while Ross +explained the situation. “I’m as eager to get rid of +these culprits as any one can be, but they must be taken +by proper authority. Bring a writ from the magistrate +and you may have them and welcome.”</p> +<p>Gregg went away without further word, and Lize +said: “He’ll find Higley if he’s in town; and he <i>is</i> in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +town, for I saw him this afternoon. He’s hiding out +to save himself trouble.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia, with an understanding of what the +ranger had endured, asked: “Can’t I get you something +to eat? Would you like some coffee?”</p> +<p>“I would, indeed,” he answered, and his tone pleased +her.</p> +<p>She hurried away to get it while Cavanagh disposed +his prisoners behind a couple of tables in the corner. +“I guess you’re in for a night of it,” he remarked, grimly. +“So make yourselves as comfortable as you can. Perhaps +your experience may be a discouragement to others +of your kind.”</p> +<p>Lee returned soon with a pot of fresh coffee and some +sandwiches, the sight of which roused young Gregg to +impudent remark. “Well, notice that! And we’re left +out!” But Edwards shrank into the shadow, as if the +light hurt him.</p> +<p>Ross thanked Lee formally, but there was more than +gratitude in his glance, and she turned away to hide her +face from other eyes. Strange place it was for the +blooming of love’s roses, but they were in her cheeks as +she faced her mother; and Lize, with fresh acknowledgment +of her beauty, broke out again: “Well, this settles +it. I’m going to get out of this town, dearie. I’m done. +This ends the cattle country for me. I don’t know how +I’ve put up with these yapps all these years. I’ve been +robbed and insulted and spit upon just long enough. +I won’t have you dragged into this mess. I ought to +have turned you back the day you landed here.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span></p> +<p>The old man in the corner was listening, straining his +attention in order to catch every word she uttered, and +Ross again caught a gleam in his eyes which puzzled +him. Before he had time to turn his wonder over in +his mind they all caught the sound of feet along the +walk, but this time the sound was sedate and regular, +like the movement of police.</p> +<p>Both prisoners rose to their feet as Cavanagh again +stood alert. The feet halted; a sharp rap sounded on +the door.</p> +<p>“Who’s there?” demanded Lize.</p> +<p>“The law!” replied a wheezy voice. “Open in the +name of the law!”</p> +<p>“It’s old Higley,” announced Lize. “Open the door, +Ross.”</p> +<p>“Come in, Law,” she called, ironically, as the justice +appeared. “You look kind of mice-eaten, but you’re all +the law this blame town can sport. Come in and do your +duty.”</p> +<p>Higley (a tall man, with a rusty brown beard, very +much on his dignity) entered the room, followed by a +short, bullet-headed citizen in a rumpled blue suit with +a big star on his breast. Behind on the sidewalk Ballard +and a dozen of his gang could be seen. Sam Gregg, +the moving cause of this resurrection of law and order, +followed the constable, bursting out big curses upon his +son. “You fool,” he began, “I warned you not to monkey +with them sheep. You—”</p> +<p>Higley had the grace to stop that. “Let up on the +cuss-words, Sam; there are ladies present,” said he, nodding +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +toward Lee. Then he opened upon Cavanagh. +“Well, sir, what’s all this row? What’s your charge +against these men?”</p> +<p>“Killing mountain sheep. I caught them with the +head of a big ram upon their pack.”</p> +<p>“Make him show his commission,” shouted Gregg. +“He’s never been commissioned. He’s no game warden.”</p> +<p>Higley hemmed. “I—ah—Oh, his authority is all +right, Sam; I’ve seen it. If he can prove that these men +killed the sheep, we’ll have to act.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh briefly related how he had captured the +men on the trail. “The head of the ram is at the livery +barn with my horse.”</p> +<p>“How about that?” asked Higley, turning to Joe.</p> +<p>“I guess that’s right,” replied the insolent youth. +“We killed the sheep all right.”</p> +<p>Higley was in a corner. He didn’t like to offend +Gregg, and yet the case was plain. He met the issue +blandly. “Marshal, take these men into custody!” +Then to Ross: “We’ll relieve you of their care, Mr. +Cavanagh. You may appear to-morrow at nine.”</p> +<p>It was a farcical ending to a very arduous thirty-six-hour +campaign, and Ross, feeling like a man who, having +rolled a huge stone to the top of a hill, has been ordered +to drop it, said, “I insist on the maximum penalty of the +law, Justice Higley, especially for this man!” He indicated +Joe Gregg.</p> +<p>“No more sneaking, Higley,” added Lize, uttering +her distrust in blunt phrase. “You put these men +through or I’ll make you trouble.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></p> +<p>Higley turned, and with unsteady solemnity saluted. +“Fear not my government, madam,” said he, and so +made exit.</p> +<p>After the door had closed behind them, Cavanagh +bitterly complained. “I’ve delivered my prisoners over +into the hands of their friends. I feel like a fool. What +assurance have I that they will ever be punished?”</p> +<p>“You have Higley’s word,” retorted Lize, with ironic +inflection. “He’ll fine ’em as much as ten dollars apiece, +and confiscate the head, which is worth fifty.”</p> +<p>“No matter what happens now, you’ve done your +duty,” added Lee Virginia, with intent to comfort him.</p> +<p>Lize, now that the stress of the battle was over, fell +a-tremble. “I reckon I’ll have to go to bed,” she admitted. +“I’m all in. This night service is wearing.”</p> +<p>Ross was alarmed at the sudden droop of her head. +“Lean on me,” he said, “it’s my turn to be useful.”</p> +<p>She apologized. “I can’t stand what I could once,” +she confessed, as he aided her into the hotel part of the +building. “It’s my nerve—seem’s like it’s all gone. I +go to pieces like a sick girl.”</p> +<p>She did, indeed, resemble the wreck of a woman as she +lay out upon her bed, her hands twitching, her eyes closed, +and Ross was profoundly alarmed. “You need the doctor,” +he urged. “Let me bring him.”</p> +<p>“No,” she said, huskily, but with decision, “I’m only +tired—I’ll be all right soon. Send the people away; +tell ’em to go to bed.”</p> +<p>For half an hour Cavanagh remained in the room +waiting to see if the doctor’s services would be required, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +but at the end of that time, as she had apparently fallen +asleep, he rose and tiptoed out into the hall.</p> +<p>Lee followed, and they faced each other in such intimacy +as the shipwrecked feel after the rescue. The +house was still astir with the feet of those to whom the +noises of the night had been a terror or a lure, and their +presence, so far from being a comfort, a protection, filled +the girl’s heart with fear and disgust. The ranger explained +the outcome of the turmoil, and sent the excited +folk to their beds with the assurance that all was quiet +and that their landlady was asleep.</p> +<p>When they were quite alone Lee said: “You must not +go out into the streets to-night.”</p> +<p>“There’s no danger. These hoodlums would not +dare to attack me.”</p> +<p>“Nevertheless, you shall not go!” she declared. “Wait +a moment,” she commanded, and reentered her mother’s +room.</p> +<p>As he stood there at Lize Wetherford’s door, and his +mind went back over her brave deed, which had gone +far to atone for her vulgarity, his respect for her deepened. +Her resolute insistence upon law showed a complete +change of front. “There is more good in her than I +thought,” he admitted, and it gave him pleasure, for it +made Lee Virginia’s character just that much more +dependable. He thrilled with a new and wistful tenderness +as the girl opened the door and stepped out, close +beside him.</p> +<p>“Her breathing is quieter,” she whispered. “I think +she’s going to sleep. It’s been a terrible night! You +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +must be horribly tired. I will find you some place to +sleep.”</p> +<p>“It has been a strenuous campaign,” he admitted. +“I’ve been practically without sleep for three nights, but +that’s all in my job. I won’t mind if Higley will ‘soak’ +those fellows properly.”</p> +<p>She looked troubled. “I don’t know what to do about +a bed for you; everything is taken—except the couch in +the front room.”</p> +<p>“Don’t trouble, I beg of you. I can pitch down anywhere. +I’m used to hard beds. I must be up early to-morrow, +anyway.”</p> +<p>“Please don’t go till after breakfast,” she smiled, +wanly, “I may need you.”</p> +<p>He understood. “What did the doctor say?”</p> +<p>“He said mother was in a very low state of vitality +and that she must be very careful, which was easy enough +to say. But how can I get her to rest and to diet? You +have seen how little she cares for the doctor’s orders. +He told her not to touch alcohol.”</p> +<p>“She is more like a man than a woman,” he answered.</p> +<p>She led the way into the small sitting-room which lay +at the front of the house, and directly opposite the door +of her own room. It was filled with shabby parlor +furniture, and in one corner stood a worn couch. “I’m +sorry, but I can offer nothing better,” she said. “Every +bed is taken, but I have plenty of blankets.”</p> +<p>There was something delightfully suggestive in being +thus waited upon by a young and handsome woman, +and the ranger submitted to it with the awkward grace of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +one unaccustomed to feminine care. The knowledge +that the girl was beneath him in birth, and that she +was considered to be (in a sense) the lovely flower of +a corrupt stock, made the manifest innocency of her +voice and eyes the more appealing. He watched her +moving about the room with eyes in which a furtive +flame glowed.</p> +<p>“This seems a long way from that dinner at Redfield’s, +doesn’t it?” he remarked, as she turned from +spreading the blankets on the couch.</p> +<p>“It is another world,” she responded, and her face +took on a musing gravity.</p> +<p>Then they faced each other in silence, each filled with +the same delicious sense of weakness, of danger, reluctant +to say good-night, longing for the closer touch which +dawning love demanded, and yet—something in the girl +defended her, defeated him.</p> +<p>“You must call me if I can be of any help,” he repeated, +and his voice was tremulous with feeling.</p> +<p>“I will do so,” she answered.</p> +<p>Still they did not part. His voice was very tender +as he said, “I don’t like to see you exposed to such experiences.”</p> +<p>“I was not afraid—only for you a little,” she answered.</p> +<p>“The Redfields like you. Eleanor told me she would +gladly help you. Why do you stay here?”</p> +<p>“I cannot leave my mother.”</p> +<p>“I’m not so sure of your duty in that regard. She +got on without you for ten years. You have a right to +consider yourself. You don’t belong here.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span></p> +<p>“Neither do you,” she retorted.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I do—at least, the case is different with me; +my work is here. It hurts me to think of going back +to the hills, leaving you here in the midst of these +wolves.”</p> +<p>He was talking now in the low, throbbing utterance +of a man carried out of himself. “It angers me to +think that the worst of these loafers, these drunken +beasts, can glare at you—can speak to you. They have +no right to breathe the same air with one like you.”</p> +<p>She did not smile at this; his voice, his eyes were filled +with the gravity of the lover whose passion is not humorous. +Against his training, his judgment, he was being +drawn into closer and closer union with this daughter +of violence, and he added: “You may not see me in the +morning.”</p> +<p>“You must not go without seeing my mother. You +must have your breakfast with us. It hurt us to think +you didn’t come to us for supper.”</p> +<p>Her words meant little, but the look in her eyes, the +music in her voice, made him shiver. He stammered: +“I—I must return to my duties to-morrow. I should +go back to-night.”</p> +<p>“You mustn’t do that. You can’t do that. You are +to appear before the judge.”</p> +<p>He smiled. “That is true. I’d forgotten that.”</p> +<p>Radiant with relief, she extended her hand. “Good-night, +then. You must sleep.”</p> +<p>He took her hand and drew her toward him, then +perceiving both wonder and fear in her eyes, he conquered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +himself. “Good-night,” he repeated, dropping +her hand, but his voice was husky with its passion.</p> +<p>Tired as he was, the ranger could not compose himself +to sleep. The memory of the girl’s sweet face, the +look of half-surrender in her eyes, the knowledge that +she loved him, and that she was lying but a few yards +from him, made slumber impossible. At the moment +she seemed altogether admirable, entirely worthy to be +won.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IX_THE_OLD_SHEEPHERDER' id='IX_THE_OLD_SHEEPHERDER'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +<h2>IX</h2> +<h3>THE OLD SHEEP-HERDER</h3> +</div> + +<p>The ranger was awakened in the first faint dawn by +the passing of the girl’s light feet as she went across the +hall to her mother’s room, and a moment later he heard +the low murmur of her voice. Throwing off his blankets +and making such scant toilet as he needed, he stepped +into the hall and waited for her to return.</p> +<p>Soon she came toward him, a smile of confidence and +pleasure on her lips.</p> +<p>“How is she?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Quite comfortable.”</p> +<p>“And you?” His voice was very tender.</p> +<p>“I am a little tired,” she acknowledged. “I didn’t +sleep very well.”</p> +<p>“You didn’t sleep at all,” he declared, regretfully.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I did,” she replied, brightly.</p> +<p>She appeared a little pale but by no means worn. +Indeed, her face had taken on new charm with its confession +of feminine weakness, its expression of trust in +him.</p> +<p>These two ardent souls confronted each other in absorbed +silence with keener perception, with new daring, +with new intimacy, till he recalled himself with effort. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +“You must let me help you if there’s anything I can do. +Remember, I’m your big brother.”</p> +<p>“I remember,” she answered, smilingly, “and I’m +going out to see what my big brother is to have for +breakfast.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh found the street empty, silent, and utterly +commonplace. And as he walked past Halsey’s saloon +the tumult of the night seemed born of a vision in disordered +sleep—and yet it had happened! From these +reeking little dens a score of foul tatterdemalions had +issued, charged with malicious fury. Each of these +shacks seemed the lurking-place of a species of malevolent +insect whose sting was out for every comer.</p> +<p>The rotting sidewalks, the tiny shops, with their dusty +fly-specked windows, the groggeries, from whose open +doors a noisome vapor streamed, poisoning the morning +air—all these typed the old-time West as Redfield and +his farmstead typed the new.</p> +<p>“Once I would have laughed at this town,” he said; +“but now it is disgusting—something to be wiped out +as one expunges an obscene mark upon a public wall.”</p> +<p>As for the attack upon himself, terrifying as it had +seemed to Lee Virginia, it was in reality only another +lively episode in the history of the town, another disagreeable +duty in the life of a ranger. It was all a part +of his job.</p> +<p>He went forth to his duties with a deepened conviction +of the essential lawlessness of the State and of +America in general; for this spirit of mob law was to be +found in some form throughout the land. He was disgusted, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +but not beaten. His resolution to carry out the +terms of his contract with the Government remained unshaken.</p> +<p>He carried with him, also, a final disturbing glimpse +of Eliza Wetherford’s girl that did indeed threaten his +peace of mind. There was an involuntary appeal, a +wistful depth, to her glance which awakened in him an +indignant pity, and also blew into flame something not +so creditable—something which smoldered beneath his +conscious will. He perceived in her a spirit of yielding +which was difficult to resist. He understood, much more +clearly than at his first meeting with her, how impossible +it was for her to remain in this country (where law was +a joke and women a ribald jest) without being corrupted. +She had not escaped her heritage of passion, and her +glances, innocent as they were, roused, even in him, +something lawless.</p> +<p>As he climbed the long hill he grappled deeply with this +new and inexplicable weakness. He had always been a +decent fellow as respects women, and had maintained the +same regard for the moral code that he instinctively bore +toward the laws of his adopted country. He could not, +therefore, regard this girl (low as her parentage seemed) +in the light of license; for (he thought) whatever of evil +may have been planted deep in her nature by her ill-assorted +father and mother, she is at the moment sweet +and fine, and the man who would awaken her other +self should be accursed.</p> +<p>In this mood, too, he acknowledged the loneliness of his +life for the first time, and rode his silent way up the trail +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +like one in a dream. He went over his life story in detail, +wondering if he had not made a mistake in leaving +England, in taking out his American citizenship. He +considered again, very seriously, the question of going +back to live on the estate of his mother, and once more +decided that its revenue was too small. To return to it +meant an acceptance of the restricted life of an English +farmer, and, worst of all, an acquiescence in the social +despotism which he had come to feel and to hate.</p> +<p>The English empire to him was falling apart. Its +supremacy was already threatened by Germany, whereas +the future of the States appealed to his imagination. +Here the problems of popular government and of industry +were to be worked out on the grandest scale. The +West inspired him. “Some day each of these great +ranges will be a national forest, and each of these canons +will contain its lake, its reservoir.” There was something +fine in this vision of man’s conquest of nature. +“Surely in this development there is a place for me,” he +said.</p> +<p>Start at any place he pleased, his mind circled and came +back to Lee Virginia. He reproached himself for not +having remained one more day to help her. She was +in the midst of a most bleak and difficult pass, and +whether she came through or not depended on something +not derived from either her father or her mother. The +test of her character was being made.</p> +<p>“Happily the father is dead, and his exploits fading to +a dim legend; but the mother may live for years to dishearten +and corrupt. It is foolish of the girl to stay, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +yet to have her go would leave me and the whole valley +poorer.”</p> +<p>He perceived in her a symbol. “She is the new West +just as the mother represents the old, and the law of inheritance +holds in her as it holds in the State. She is a +mixture of good and evil, of liberty and license. She +must still draw forward, for a time, the dead weight of +her past, just as the West must bear with and gradually +slough off its violent moods.”</p> +<p>His pony plodded slowly, and the afternoon was half-spent +before he came in sight of the long, low log-cabin +which was the only home he possessed in all America. For +the first time since he built it, the station seemed lonely +and disheartening. “Would any woman, for love of me, +come to such a hearthstone?” he asked himself. “And +if she consented to do so, could I be so selfish as to exact +such sacrifice? No, the forest ranger in these attitudes +must be young and heart-free; otherwise his life would +be miserably solitary.”</p> +<p>He unsaddled his horse and went about his duties with +a leaden pall over his spirit, a fierce turmoil in his brain. +He was no longer single-hearted in his allegiance to +the forest. He could not banish that appealing girlish +face, that trusting gaze. Lee Virginia needed him as +he needed her; and yet—and yet—the people’s lands +demanded his care, his social prejudices forbade his +marriage.</p> +<p>He was just dishing out his rude supper when the feet +of a horse on the log bridge announced a visitor.</p> +<p>With a feeling of pleasure as well as relief, he rose to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +greet the stranger. “Any visitor is welcome this night,” +he said.</p> +<p>The horseman proved to be his former prisoner, the +old man Edwards, who slipped from his saddle with the +never-failing grace of the cow-man, and came slowly +toward the cabin. He smiled wearily as he said: “I’m +on your trail, Mr. Ranger, but I bear no malice. You +were doing your duty. Can you tell me how far it is to +Ambro’s camp?”</p> +<p>There was something forlorn in the man’s attitude, and +Cavanagh’s heart softened. “Turn your horse into the +corral and come to supper,” he commanded, with Western +bluntness; “we’ll talk about all that later.”</p> +<p>Edwards accepted his hospitality without hesitation, +and when he had disposed of his mount and made himself +ready for the meal, he came in and took a seat at the +table in silence, while the ranger served him and waited +for his explanation.</p> +<p>“I’m going up to take Ambro’s place,” he began, after a +few minutes of silent eating. “Know where his camp is?”</p> +<p>“I do,” replied Ross, to whom the stranger now appeared +in pathetic guise. “Any man of his age consenting +to herd sheep is surely hard hit by the rough hand +of the world,” he reasoned, and the closer he studied his +visitor the plainlier he felt his ungoverned past. His +chest was hollow, his eyes unnaturally large, and his +hands thin, but he still displayed faint lines of the beauty +and power he had once gloried in. His clothing was +worn and poor, and Ross said: “You’ll need plenty of +bedding up there.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></p> +<p>“Is it high?”</p> +<p>“About eleven thousand feet.”</p> +<p>“Jehosaphat! How will I stand that kind of air? +Still, it may be it’s what I need. I’ve been living down in +the low country for ten years, and I’m a little bit hide-bound.”</p> +<p>“Lung trouble?”</p> +<p>“Oh no; old age, I reckon.”</p> +<p>“You’re not old—not more than fifty-five.”</p> +<p>“I’m no colt,” he admitted; “and, besides, I’ve lived +pretty swift.”</p> +<p>In this was the hint of a confession, but Cavanagh did +not care to have him proceed further in that line. “I +suppose Gregg paid your fine?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“In any other town in the State you’d have gone down +the line.”</p> +<p>He roused himself. “See here, Mr. Ranger, you’ve +no warrant to believe me, but I told you the God’s truth. +Young Gregg got me to ride into the range and show +him the trail. I didn’t intend to get mixed up +with a game warden. I’ve had all the confinement I +need.”</p> +<p>“Well, it’s a closed incident now,” interposed Ross; +“we won’t reopen it. Make yourself at home.”</p> +<p>The stranger, hungry as he was, ate with unexpected +gentility, and, as the hot coffee sent its cheerful glow +through his body, he asked, with livening interest, a +good many questions about the ranger and the Forest +Service. “You fellers have to be all-round men. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +cowboys think you have a snap, but I guess you earn +your money.”</p> +<p>“A man that builds trail, lays bridges, burns brush, +fights fire, rides the round-up, and covers seventy-five +miles of trail every week on eighty dollars per month, +and feeds himself and his horses, isn’t what I would call +enjoying a soft snap.”</p> +<p>“What do you do it for?”</p> +<p>“God knows! I’ve been asking myself that question +all day to-day.”</p> +<p>“This playin’ game warden has some outs, too. That +was a wild crowd last night. The town is the same old +hell-hole it was when I knew it years ago. Fine girl of +Lize Wetherford’s. She blocked <i>me</i> all right.” He +smiled wanly. “I certainly was on my way to the +green timber when she put the bars up.”</p> +<p>Ross made no comment, and the other went on, in a +tone of reminiscent sadness. “Lize has changed terribly. +I used to know her when she was a girl. Judas +Priest! but she could ride and shoot in those days!” +His eyes kindled with the memory of her. “She could +back a horse to beat any woman that ever crossed the +range, but I didn’t expect to see her have such a skein +of silk as that girl. She sure looks the queen to me.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh did not greatly relish this line of conversation, +but the pause enabled him to say: “Miss Wetherford +is not much Western; she got her training in the +East. She’s been with an aunt ever since her father’s +death.”</p> +<p>“He’s dead, is he?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></p> +<p>“So far as anybody knows, he is.”</p> +<p>“Well, he’s no loss. I knew him, too. He was all +kinds of a fool; let a few slick ones seduce him with +fizz-water and oysters on the half-shell—that’s the kind +of a weak sister he was. He got on the wrong side of +the rustler line-up—you know all about that, I reckon? +Fierce old days, those. We didn’t know anything about +forest rangers or game wardens in them days.”</p> +<p>The stranger’s tone was now that of a man quite certain +of himself. He had become less furtive under the +influence of the food and fire.</p> +<p>Ross defended Wetherford for Virginia’s sake. “He +wasn’t altogether to blame, as I see it. He was the +Western type in full flower, that’s all. He had to go +like the Indian and the buffalo. And these hobos like +Ballard and Gregg will go next.”</p> +<p>Edwards sank back into his chair. “I reckon that’s +right,” he agreed, and made offer to help clear away the +supper dishes.</p> +<p>“No, you’re tired,” replied Ross; “rest and smoke. +I’ll soon be done.”</p> +<p>The poacher each moment seemed less of the hardened +criminal, and more and more of the man prematurely +aged by sickness and dissipation, and gradually the +ranger lost all feeling of resentment.</p> +<p>As he sat down beside the fire, Edwards said: +“Them Wetherford women think a whole lot of you. +’Pears like they’d both fight for you. Are you sweet on +the girl?”</p> +<p>“Now, see here, old man,” Ross retorted, sharply, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +“you want to do a lot of thinking before you comment +on Miss Wetherford. I won’t stand for any nasty +clack.”</p> +<p>Edwards meekly answered: “I wasn’t going to say +anything out of the way. I was fixin’ for to praise her.”</p> +<p>“All the same, I don’t intend to discuss her with you,” +was Cavanagh’s curt answer.</p> +<p>The herder fell back into silence while the ranger prepared +his bunk for the night. The fact that he transferred +some of the blankets from his own bed to that of +his visitor did not escape Edwards’s keen eyes, and with +grateful intent he said:</p> +<p>“I can give you a tip, Mr. Ranger,” said he, breaking +out of a silence. “The triangle outfit is holding more +cattle on the forest than their permits call for.”</p> +<p>“How do you know?”</p> +<p>“I heard one of the boys braggin’ about it.”</p> +<p>“Much obliged,” responded Ross. “I’ll look into it.”</p> +<p>Edwards went on: “Furthermore, they’re fixing for +another sheep-kill over there, too; all the sheepmen are +armed. That’s why I left the country. I don’t want to +run any more chances of being shot up. I’ve had enough +of trouble; I can’t afford to be hobnobbing with judges +and juries.”</p> +<p>“When does your parole end?” asked Ross.</p> +<p>Edwards forced a grin. “I was handing you one +when I said that,” he declared, weakly. “I was workin’ +up sympathy. I’m not out on parole; I’m just a broken-down +old cow-puncher herdin’ sheep in order to keep +clear of the liquor belt.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span></p> +<p>This seemed reasonable, and the ranger remarked, by +way of dropping the subject: “I’ve nothing to say further +than this—obey the rules of the forest, and you won’t +get into any further trouble with me. And as for +being shot up by the cow-men, you’ll not be disturbed +on any national forest. There never has been +a single herder shot nor a sheep destroyed on this +forest.”</p> +<p>“I’m mighty glad to hear that,” replied Edwards, with +sincere relief. “I’ve had my share of shooting up and +shooting down. All I ask now is quiet and the society +of sheep. I take a kind of pleasure in protecting the +fool brutes. It’s about all I’m good for.”</p> +<p>He did, indeed, look like a man in the final year of life +as he spoke. “Better turn in,” he said, in kindlier tone; +“I’m an early riser.”</p> +<p>The old fellow rose stiffly, and, laying aside his boots +and trousers, rolled into his bunk and was asleep in +three minutes.</p> +<p>Cavanagh himself was very tired, and went to bed soon +after, to sleep dreamlessly till daylight. He sprang from +his bed, and after a plunge in the stream set about breakfast; +while Edwards rose from his bunk, groaning and +sighing, and went forth to wrangle the horses, rubbing +his hands and shivering as he met the keen edge of the +mountain wind. When he returned, breakfast was +ready, and again he expressed his gratitude.</p> +<p>“Haven’t you any slicker?” asked Cavanagh. “It +looks like rain.”</p> +<p>“No, I’m run down pretty low,” he replied. “The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +truth is, Mr. Ranger, I blew in all my wages at roulette +last week.”</p> +<p>Ross brought out a canvas coat, well worn but serviceable. +“Take this along with you. It’s likely to storm +before we reach the sheep-camp. And you don’t look +very strong. You must take care of yourself.”</p> +<p>Edwards was visibly moved by this kindness. “Sure +you can spare it?”</p> +<p>“Certain sure; I’ve another,” returned the ranger, +curtly.</p> +<p>It was hardly more than sunrise as they mounted their +ponies and started on their trail, which led sharply upward +after they left the canon. The wind was strong +and stinging cold. Over the high peaks the gray-black +vapor was rushing, and farther away a huge dome of +cloud was advancing like an army in action. It was all +in the day’s work of the ranger, but the plainsman behind +him turned timorous eyes toward the sky. “It +looks owly,” he repeated. “I didn’t know I was going +so high—Gregg didn’t say the camp was so near timber-line.”</p> +<p>“You’ve cut out a lonesome job for yourself,” Ross +assured him, “and if you can find anything else to do +you’d better give this up and go back.”</p> +<p>“I’m used to being lonesome,” the stranger said, +“but I can’t stand the cold and the wet as I used to. I +never was a mountaineer.”</p> +<p>Taking pity on the shivering man, Cavanagh turned +off the trail into a sheltered nook behind some twisted +pine-trees. “How do you expect to take care of your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +sheep a thousand feet higher than this?” he demanded +as they entered the still place, where the sun shone +warm.</p> +<p>“That’s what I’m asking myself,” replied Edwards. +He slipped from his horse and crouched close to the +rock. “My blood is mostly ditch-water, seems like. +The wind blows right through me.”</p> +<p>“How do you happen to be reduced to herding sheep? +You look like a man who has seen better days.”</p> +<p>Edwards, chafing his thin fingers to warm them, +made reluctant answer: “It’s a long story, Mr. Ranger, +and it concerns a whole lot of other people—some of +them decent folks—so I’d rather not go into it.”</p> +<p>“John Barleycorn was involved, I reckon.”</p> +<p>“Sure thing—he’s generally always in it.”</p> +<p>“You’d better take my gloves—it’s likely to snow in +half an hour. Go ahead—I’m a younger man than you +are.”</p> +<p>The other made a decent show of resistance, but +finally accepted the offer, saying: “You certainly are +white to me. I want to apologize for making that attempt +to sneak away that night—I had a powerful good +reason for not staying any longer.”</p> +<p>Ross smiled a little. “You showed bad judgment—as +it turned out.”</p> +<p>“I sure did. That girl can shoot. Her gun was +steady as a door-knob. She filled the door. Where did +she learn to hold a gun like that?”</p> +<p>“Her father taught her, so she said.”</p> +<p>“She wouldn’t remember me—an old cuss like me—but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +I’ve seen her with Wetherford when she was a kidlet. +I never thought she’d grow up into such a ‘queen.’ +She’s a wonder.”</p> +<p>Strange to say, Ross no longer objected to the old +man’s words of admiration; on the contrary, he encouraged +him to talk on.</p> +<p>“Her courage is greater than you know. When she +came to that hotel it was a place of dirt and vermin. +She has transformed it. She’s now engaged on the reformation +of her mother.”</p> +<p>“Lize was straight when I knew her,” remarked the +other, in the tone of one who wishes to defend a memory. +“Straight as a die.”</p> +<p>“In certain ways she’s straight now, but she’s been +hard pushed at times, and has traded in liquor to help +out—then she’s naturally a slattern.”</p> +<p>“She didn’t used to be,” asserted Edwards; “she +was a mighty handsome woman when I used to see her +riding around with Ed.”</p> +<p>“She’s down at the heel now, quite like the town.”</p> +<p>“She looked sick to me. You shouldn’t be too hard +on a sick woman, but she ought to send her girl away or +get out. As you say, the Fork is no kind of a place for +such a girl. If I had a son, a fine young feller like that +girl is, do you suppose I’d let him load himself up with +an old soak like me? No, sir; Lize has no right to spoil +that girl’s life. I’m nothing but a ham-strung old cow-puncher, +but I’ve too much pride to saddle my pack +on the shoulders of my son the way Lize seems to be +doin’ with that girl.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span></p> +<p>He spoke with a good deal of feeling, and the ranger +studied him with deepening interest. He had taken on +dignity in the heat of his protest, and in his eyes blazed +something that was both manly and admirable.</p> +<p>Cavanagh took his turn at defending Lize. “As a +matter of fact, she tried to send her daughter away, but +Lee refuses to go, insisting that it is her duty to remain. +In spite of her bad blood the girl is surprisingly true and +sweet. She makes me wonder whether there is as much +in heredity as we think.”</p> +<p>“Her blood ain’t so bad. Wetherford was a fool and +a daredevil, but he came of good Virginia stock—so +I’ve heard.”</p> +<p>“Well, whatever was good in both sire and dame this +girl seems to have mysteriously gathered to herself.”</p> +<p>The old man looked at him with a bright sidelong +glance. “You are a little sweet on the girl, eh?”</p> +<p>Ross began to regret his confidence. “She’s making a +good fight, and I feel like helping her.”</p> +<p>“And she rather likes being helped by you. I could +see that when she brought the coffee to you. She likes +to stand close—”</p> +<p>Ross cut him short. “We’ll not discuss her any +further.”</p> +<p>“I don’t mean any harm, Mr. Ranger; we hobos have +a whole lot of time to gossip, and I’m old enough to like +a nice girl in a fatherly way. I reckon the whole valley +rides in to see her, just the way you do.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh winced. “You can’t very well hide a handsome +woman in a cattle country.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></p> +<p>Edwards smiled again, sadly. “Not in my day you +couldn’t. Why, a girl like that would ‘a’ been worth a +thousand head o’ steers. I’ve seen a man come in with +a span of mules and three ordinary female daughters, +and without cinching a saddle to a pony accumulate five +thousand cattle.” Then he grew grave again. “Don’t +happen to have a picture of the girl, do you?”</p> +<p>“If I did, would I show it to you?”</p> +<p>“You might. You might even give it to me.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh looked at the man as if he were dreaming. +“You must be crazy.”</p> +<p>“Oh no, I’m not. Sheep-herders do go twisted, but +I’m not in the business long enough for that. I’m just +a bit nutty about that girl.”</p> +<p>He paused a moment. “So if you have a picture, I wish +you’d show it to me.”</p> +<p>“I haven’t any.”</p> +<p>“Is that right?”</p> +<p>“That’s right. I’ve only seen her two or three times, +and she isn’t the kind that distributes her favors.”</p> +<p>“So it seems. And yet you’re just the kind of figure +to catch a girl’s eye. She likes you—I could see that, but +you’ve got a good opinion of yourself. You’re an educated +man—do you intend to marry her?”</p> +<p>“See here, Mr. Sheep-herder, you better ride on up to +your camp,” and Ross turned to mount his horse.</p> +<p>“Wait a minute,” called the other man, and his voice +surprised the ranger with a note of authority. “I was +terribly taken with that girl, and I owe you a whole +lot; but I’ve got to know one thing. I can see you’re +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +full of her, and jealous as a bear of any other suitor. +Now I want to know whether you intend to marry her +or whether you’re just playing with her?”</p> +<p>Ross was angry now. “What I intend to do is none +of your business.”</p> +<p>The other man was suddenly ablaze with passion. +His form had lost its stoop. His voice was firm. “I +merely want to say that if you play the goat with that +girl, I’ll kill you!”</p> +<p>Ross stared at him quite convinced that he had gone +entirely mad. “That’s mighty chivalrous of you, Mr. +Sheep-herder,” he replied, cuttingly; “but I’m at a +loss to understand this sudden indignation on your +part.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t be—I’m her father!”</p> +<p>Cavanagh fairly reeled before this retort. His head +rang as if he had been struck with a club. He perceived +the truth of the man’s words instantly. He gasped: +“Good God, man! are <i>you</i> Ed Wetherford?”</p> +<p>The answer was quick. “That’s who I am!” Then +his voice changed. “But I don’t want the women to +know I’m alive—I didn’t intend to let anybody know it. +My fool temper has played hell with me again”—then +his voice grew firmer—“all the same, I mean it. If you +or any man tries to abuse her, I’ll kill him! I’ve loaded +her up with trouble, as you say, but I’m going to do +what I can to protect her—now that I’m in the county +again.”</p> +<p>Ross, confused by this new complication in the life of +the girl he was beginning to love, stared at his companion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +in dismay. Was it not enough that Virginia’s mother +should be a slattern and a termagant? At last he spoke: +“Where have you been all these years?”</p> +<p>“In the Texas ‘pen.’ I served nine years there.”</p> +<p>“What for?”</p> +<p>“Shooting a man. It was a case of self-defence, but +his family had more money and influence than I did, +so I went down the road. As soon as I was out I started +north—just the way a dog will point toward home. I +didn’t intend to come here, but some way I couldn’t +keep away. I shied round the outskirts of the Fork, +picking up jobs of sheep-herding just to have time to +turn things over. I know what you’re thinking about—you’re +saying to yourself, ‘Well, here’s a nice father-in-law?’ +Well, now, I don’t know anything about your +people, but the Wetherfords are as good as anybody. +If I hadn’t come out into this cursed country, where even +the women go shootin’ wild, I would have been in Congress; +but being hot-headed, I must mix in. I’m not +excusing myself, you understand; I’m not a desirable +addition to any man’s collection of friends, but I can +promise you this—no one but yourself shall ever know +who I am. At the same time, you can’t deceive my girl +without my being named in the funeral that will follow.”</p> +<p>It was a singular place for such an exchange of confidences. +Wetherford stood with his back against his +pony, his face flushed, his eyes bright as though part of +his youth had returned to him, while the ranger, slender, +erect, and powerful, faced him with sombre glance. +Overhead the detached clouds swept swift as eagles, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +casting shadows cold as winter, and in the dwarfed century-old +trees the wind breathed a sad monody. Occasionally +the sun shone warm and golden upon the +group, and then it seemed spring, and the far-off plain +a misty sea.</p> +<p>At last Cavanagh said: “You are only a distant and +romantic figure to Lee—a part of the dead past. She +remembers you as a bold rider and a wondrously +brave and chivalrous father.”</p> +<p>“Does she?” he asked, eagerly.</p> +<p>“Yes, and she loves to talk of you. She knows the +town’s folk despise your memory, but that she lays to +prejudice.”</p> +<p>“She must never know. You must promise never to +tell her.”</p> +<p>“I promise that,” Cavanagh said, and Edwards went +on:</p> +<p>“If I could bring something to her—prove to her I’m +still a man—it might do to tell her, but I’m a branded +man now, and an old man, and there’s no hope for me. +I worked in one of the machine-shops down there, and +it took the life out of me. Then, too, I left a bad name +here in the Fork—I know that. Those big cattle-men +fooled me into taking their side of the war. I staked +everything I had on them, and then they railroaded me +out of the county. So, you see, I’m double-crossed, no +matter where I turn.”</p> +<p>Every word he uttered made more apparent to Cavanagh +that Lee Virginia would derive nothing but pain +and disheartenment from a knowledge that her father +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +lived. “She must be spared this added burden of shameful +inheritance,” he decided.</p> +<p>The other man seemed to understand something of the +ranger’s indignant pity, for he repeated: “I want you to +<i>swear</i> not to let Lee know I’m alive, no matter what +comes; she must not be saddled with my record. Let +her go on thinking well of me. Give me your word!” +He held out an insistent palm.</p> +<p>Ross yielded his hand, and in spite of himself his tenderness +for the broken man deepened. The sky was +darkening to the west, and with a glance upward he said: +“I reckon we’d better make your camp soon or you’ll +be chilled to the bone.”</p> +<p>They mounted hastily and rode away, each feeling +that his relationship to the other had completely changed. +Wetherford marvelled over the evident culture and refinement +of the ranger. “He’s none too good for her, +no matter who he is,” he said.</p> +<p>Upon leaving timber-line they entered upon a wide and +sterile slope high on the rocky breast of the great peak, +whose splintered crest lorded the range. Snow-fields lay +all about, and a few hundred feet higher up the canons +were filled with ice. It was a savage and tempest-swept +spot in which to pitch a tent, but there among the rocks +shivered the minute canvas home of the shepherd, and +close beside it, guarded by a lone dog, and lying like +a thick-spread flock of rimy bowlders (almost unnoticeable +in their silent immobility) huddled the +sheep.</p> +<p>“There’s your house,” shouted Ross to Wetherford. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span></p> +<p>The older man, with white face of dismay, looked about +him, unable to make reply.</p> +<p>The walls of the frail teepee, flapping in the breeze, +appeared hardly larger than a kerchief caught upon a +bush, and the disheartened collie seemed nervously apprehensive +of its being utterly swept away. The great +peaks were now hid by the rain, and little could be seen +but wet rocks, twisted junipers, and the trickling gray +streams of icy water. The eastern landscape was naked, +alpine, splendid yet appalling, and the voices of the +sheep added to the dreary message of the scene.</p> +<p>“Hello there!” shouted Ross, wondering at the absence +of human life about the camp. “Hello the house!”</p> +<p>Receiving no answer to his hail, he turned to Wetherford. +“Looks like Joe has pulled out and left the collie +to ’tend the flock. He’s been kind o’ seedy for some +days.”</p> +<p>Dismounting, he approached the tent. The collie, +who knew him, seemed to understand his errand, for he +leaped upon him as if to kiss his cheek. Ross put him +down gently. “You’re almost too glad to see me, old +fellow. I wonder how long you’ve been left here alone?”</p> +<p>Thereupon he opened the tied flap, but started back +with instant perception of something wrong, for there, +on his pile of ragged quilts, lay the Basque herder, with +flushed face and rolling eyes, crazed with fever and entirely +helpless. “You’d better not come in here, Wetherford,” +Ross warned. “Joe is here, horribly sick, and +I’m afraid it’s something contagious. It may be +smallpox.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span></p> +<p>Wetherford recoiled a step. “Smallpox! What makes +you think that?”</p> +<p>“Well, these Basques have been having it over in their +settlement, and, besides, it smells like it.” He listened +a moment. “I’m afraid Joe’s in for it. He’s crazy with +it. But he’s a human being, and we can’t let him die +here alone. You rustle some wood for the stove, and +I’ll see what I can do for him.”</p> +<p>Wetherford was old and wasted and thin-blooded, +but he had never been a coward, and in his heart there +still burned a small flame of his youthful, reckless, generous +daring. Pushing Cavanagh one side, he said, +with firm decision: “You keep out o’ there. I’m the +one to play nurse. This is my job.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense; I am younger and stronger than you.”</p> +<p>“Get away!” shouted the older man. “Gregg hired +me to do this work, and it don’t matter whether I live +or die; but you’ve got something to do in the world. +My girl needs you, and she don’t need me, so get out o’ +here and stay out. Go bring me that wood, and I’ll +go in and see what’s the matter.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh looked him in the face an instant. “Very +well,” said he, “I’ll do as you say. There’s no use of +our both taking chances.”</p> +<p>It was beginning to rain, and the tent was dark and +desolate, but as the fire in the little stove commenced +to snarl, and the smoke to pour out of the pipe, the +small domicile took on cheer. Wetherford knew how +to care for the sick, and in the shelter of the canvas +wall developed unforeseen vigor and decision. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +amazing to Cavanagh to witness his change of manner.</p> +<p>Soon a pan of water was steaming, and some hot +stones were at the sufferer’s feet, and when Wetherford +appeared at the door of the tent his face was almost +happy. “Kill a sheep. There isn’t a thing but a heel +of bacon and a little flour in the place.”</p> +<p>As the ranger went about his outside duties he had +time to take into full account the tragic significance of the +situation. He was not afraid of death, but the menace +of sickness under such surroundings made his blood +run cold. It is such moments as these that the wilderness +appalls. Twenty miles of most difficult trail lay +between his own cabin and this spot. To carry the sick +man on his horse would not only be painful to the sufferer +but dangerous to the rescuer, for if the Basque +were really ill of smallpox contagion would surely follow. +On the other hand, to leave him to die here unaided +seemed inhuman, impossible.</p> +<p>“There is only one thing to do,” he called to Wetherford, +“and that is for me to ride back to the station and +bring up some extra bedding and my own tent, and so +camp down beside you.”</p> +<p>“All right; but remember I’ve established a quarantine. +I’ll crack your head if you break over the line an +inch.”</p> +<p>There was no longer any feeling of reaching up or +reaching down between the two men—they were equals. +Wetherford, altogether admirable, seemed to have regained +his manhood as he stood in the door of the tent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +confronting the ranger. “This Basque ain’t much of +a find, but, as you say, he’s human, and we can’t let +him lie here and die, I’ll stay with him till you can +find a doctor or till he dies.”</p> +<p>“I take off my hat to you,” responded Cavanagh. +“You are a man.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='X_THE_SMOKE_OF_THE_BURNING' id='X_THE_SMOKE_OF_THE_BURNING'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +<h2>X</h2> +<h3>THE SMOKE OF THE BURNING</h3> +</div> + +<p>The reader will observe that the forest ranger’s job +is that of a man and a patriot, and such a ranger was +Cavanagh, notwithstanding his foreign birth. He could +ride all day in the saddle and fight fire all night. While not +a trained forester, he was naturally a reader, and thoroughly +understood the theories of the department. As a practical +ranger he stood half-way between the cowboy (who +was at first the only available material) and the trained +expert who is being educated to follow him.</p> +<p>He was loyal with the loyalty of a soldier, and his hero +was the colonel of the Rough-riders, under whom he +had campaigned. The second of his admirations was +the Chief Forester of the department.</p> +<p>The most of us are getting so thin-skinned, so dependent +upon steam-heat and goloshes, that the actions +of a man like this riding forth upon his trail at all hours +of the day and night self-sufficing and serene, seem like +the doings of an epic, and so indeed they are.</p> +<p>On the physical side the plainsman, the cowboy, the +poacher, are all admirable, but Cavanagh went far beyond +their physical hardihood. He dreamed, as he rode, +of his responsibilities. The care of the poor Basque +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +shepherd he had accepted as a matter of routine without +Wetherford’s revelation of himself, which complicated +an exceedingly pitiful case. He could not forget that it +was Lee Virginia’s father who stood in danger of contracting +the deadly disease, and as he imagined him +dying far up there on that bleak slope, his heart pinched +with the tragedy of the old man’s life. In such wise +the days of the ranger were smouldering to this end.</p> +<p>On the backward trail he turned aside to stamp out a +smoking log beside a deserted camp-fire, and again he +made a detour into a lovely little park to visit a fisherman +and to warn him of the danger of fire. He was the forest +guardian, alert to every sign, and yet all the time he was +being drawn on toward his temptation. Why not resign +and go East, taking the girl with him? “After all, the +life up here is a lonely and hard one, in no sense a +vocation for an ambitious man. Suppose I am promoted +to Forest Supervisor? That only means a little +more salary and life in a small city rather than here. +District Supervisor would be better, but can I hope to +secure such a position?”</p> +<p>Up to this month he had taken the matter of his promotion +easily; it was something to come along in the +natural course of things. “There is no haste; I can +wait.” Now haste seemed imperative. “I am no +longer so young as I was,” he admitted.</p> +<p>Once back at his cabin he laid aside his less tangible +problems, and set himself to cooking some food to take +back with him to the peak. He brought in his pack-horse, +and burdened him with camp outfit and utensils, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +and extra clothing. He filled his pockets with such +medicines as he possessed, and so at last, just as night +was falling, he started back over his difficult trail.</p> +<p>The sky was black as the roof of a cavern, for the stars +were hid by a roof of cloud which hung just above his head, +and the ranger was obliged to feel his way through the +first quarter of his journey. The world grew lighter +after he left the canon and entered the dead timber of +the glacial valley, but even in the open the going was +wearisome and the horses proceeded with sullen caution.</p> +<p>“The Basque is a poor, worthless little peasant, but +he is a human being, and to leave him to die up there +would be monstrous,” he insisted, as the horses stumbled +upward over the rocks of a vast lateral moraine toward +the summit, blinded by the clouds through which they +were forced to pass. He was dismounted now and picking +his way with a small lantern, whose feeble ray (like +that of a firefly) illuminated for a small space the dripping +rocks; all else was tangible yellow mist which possessed +a sulphurous odor and clung to everything it +touched. The wind had died out entirely, and the +mountain-side was as silent as the moon.</p> +<p>Foot by foot he struggled up the slope, hoping each +moment to break through this blanket of vapor into the +clear air. He knew from many previous experiences +that the open sky existed a little way above, that this was +but a roof.</p> +<p>At last he parted the layer of mist and burst into +the moonlit heights above. He drew a deep breath of +awe as he turned and looked about him. Overhead the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +sky was sparkling with innumerable stars, and the crescent +moon was shining like burnished silver, while level +with his breast rolled a limitless, silent, and mystical +ocean of cloud which broke against the dark peaks in +soundless surf, and spread away to the east in ever-widening +shimmer. All the lesser hills were covered; +only the lords of the range towered above the flood in +sullen and unmoved majesty.</p> +<p>For a long time Cavanagh stood beside his weary +horses, filling his soul with the beauty of this world, so +familiar yet so transformed. He wished for his love; +she would feel and know and rejoice with him. It was +such experiences as these that made him content with +his work. For the ranger Nature plays her profoundest +dramas—sometimes with the rush of winds, the crash +of thunder; sometimes like this, in silence so deep that +the act of breathing seems a harsh, discordant note.</p> +<p>Slowly the mystic waters fell away, sinking with slightly +rolling action into the valleys, and out of the wool-white +waves sudden sharp dark forms upthrust like +strange masters of the deep. Towers took shape and +islands upheaved, crowned with dark fortresses. To the +west a vast and inky-black Gibraltar magically appeared. +Soon the sea was but a prodigious river flowing +within the high walls of an ancient glacier, a ghost +of the icy stream that once ground its slow way between +these iron cliffs.</p> +<p>With a shudder of awe the ranger turned from the +intolerable beauty of this combination of night, cloud, +and mountain-crest, and resumed his climb. Such scenes, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +by their majesty, their swift impermanency, their colossal +and heedless haste, made his heart ache with indefinable +regret. Again and again he looked back, longing for +some power which would enable him to record and reproduce +for the eyes of his love some part of this stupendous +and noiseless epic. He was no longer content +to enjoy Nature’s splendors alone.</p> +<p>On the cold and silent side of the great divide the +faint light of the shepherd’s teepee shone, and with a +returning sense of his duty to his fellows on the roof of +the continent, Cavanagh pushed onward.</p> +<p>Wetherford met him at the door, no longer the poor +old tramp, but a priest, one who has devoted himself to +Christ’s service.</p> +<p>“How is he?” asked the ranger.</p> +<p>“Delirious,” replied the herder. “I’ve had to hold +him to his bed. I’m glad you’ve come. It’s lonesome +up here. Don’t come too near. Set your tent down +there by the trees. I can’t have you infected. Keep +clear of me and this camp.”</p> +<p>“I’ve got some food and some extra clothing for you.”</p> +<p>“Put ’em down here, and in the morning drive these +sheep away. That noise disturbs the dago, and I don’t +like it myself; they sound lonesome and helpless. +That dog took ’em away for a while, but brought ’em +back again; poor devil, he don’t know what to think +of it all.”</p> +<p>Ross did as Wetherford commanded him to do, and +withdrew a little way down the slope; and without putting +up his tent, rolled himself in his blankets and went to sleep. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></p> +<p>The sun rose gloriously. With mountain fickleness +the wind blew gently from the east, the air was precisely +like late March, and the short and tender grass, +the small flowers in the sheltered corners of the rocks, +and the multitudinous bleatings of the lambs were all in +keeping. It was spring in the world and it was spring +in the heart of the ranger, in spite of all his perplexities. +The Basque would recover, the heroic ex-convict would +not be stricken, and all would be well. Of such resiliency +is the heart of youth.</p> +<p>His first duty was to feed the faithful collie, and to send +him forth with the flock. His next was to build a fire +and cook some breakfast for Wetherford, and as he put +it down beside the tent door he heard the wild pleading +of the Basque, who was struggling with his nurse—doubtless +in the belief that he was being kept a prisoner. +Only a few words like “go home” and “sheep” were +intelligible to either the nurse or the ranger.</p> +<p>“Keep quiet now—quiet, boy! It’s all right. I’m here +to take care of you,” Wetherford repeated, endlessly.</p> +<p>Cavanagh waited till a silence came; then called, softly: +“Here’s your breakfast, Wetherford.”</p> +<p>“Move away,” retorted the man within. “Keep +your distance.”</p> +<p>Ross walked away a little space and Wetherford came +to the door. “The dago is sure sick, there’s no two +ways about that. How far is it to the nearest doctor?”</p> +<p>“I could reach one by ’phone from the Kettle Ranch, +about twenty miles below here.”</p> +<p>“If he don’t get better to-day I reckon we’ll have to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +have a doctor.” He looked so white and old that +Cavanagh said:</p> +<p>“You need rest. Now I <i>think</i> I’ve had the smallpox—I +know I’ve been vaccinated, and if you go to bed—”</p> +<p>“If you’re saying all that preliminary to offering to +come in here, you’re wasting your breath. I don’t +intend to let you come any nearer than you are. There +is work for you to do. Besides, there’s my girl; you’re +detailed to look after her.”</p> +<p>“Would a doctor come?” asked Ross, huskily, moved +by Wetherford’s words. “It’s a hard climb. Would +they think the dago worth it?”</p> +<p>Wetherford’s face darkened with a look of doubt. +“It <i>is</i> a hard trip for a city man, but maybe he would +come for you—for the Government.”</p> +<p>“I doubt it, even if I were to offer my next month’s +salary as a fee. These hills are very remote to the +townsfolk, and one dago more or less of no importance, +but I’ll see what I can do.”</p> +<p>Ross was really more concerned for Wetherford himself +than for the Basque. “If the fever is something malignant, +we must have medical aid,” he said, and went +slowly back to his own camp to ponder his puzzling +problem.</p> +<p>One thing could certainly be done, and that was to +inform Gregg and Murphy of their herder’s illness; +surely they would come to the rescue of the collie and his +flock. To reach a telephone involved either a ride over +into Deer Creek or a return to the Fork. He was +tempted to ride all the way to the Fork, for to do so would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +permit another meeting with Lee; but to do this would +require many hours longer, and half a day’s delay might +prove fatal to the Basque, and, besides, each hour of +loneliness and toil rendered Wetherford just so much +more open to the deadly attack of the disease.</p> +<p>Here was the tragic side of the wilderness. At such +moments even the Fork seemed a haven. The mountains +offer a splendid camping-place for the young and +the vigorous, but they are implacable foes to the disabled +man or the aged. They do not give loathsome +diseases like pox, but they do not aid in defence of the +sick. Coldly aloof, its clouds sail by. The night +winds bite. Its rains fall remorselessly. Sheltering +rocks there are, to be sure, but their comfort is small to +the man smitten with the scourge of the crowded city. +In such heights man is of no more value than the wolf +or the cony.</p> +<p>It was hard to leave an old and broken man in such +a drear and wind-contested spot, and yet it had to be +done. So fastening his tent securely behind a clump of +junipers, Cavanagh mounted his horse and rode away +across the boundary of the forest into the Deer Creek +Basin, which had been the bone of much contention +for nearly four years.</p> +<p>It was a high, park-like expanse, sparsely wooded, +beautiful in summer, but cold and bleak in winter. +The summers were short, and frost fell almost every week +even in July and August. It had once been a part of the +forest, but under pressure the President had permitted it +to be restored to the public lands open for entry. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +not “agricultural grounds,” as certain ranchers claimed, +but it was excellent summer pasture, and the sheepmen +and cattle-men had leaped at once into warfare to possess +it. Sheep were beaten to death with clubs by hundreds, +herders were hustled out of the park with ropes +about their necks and their outfits destroyed—and all +this within a few miles of the forest boundary, where one +small sentinel kept effective watch and ward.</p> +<p>Cavanagh had never been over this trail but once, +and he was trying to locate the cliff from which a flock +of sheep had been hurled by cattle-men some years before, +when he perceived a thin column of smoke rising +from a rocky hillside. With habitual watchfulness as to +fire, he raised his glass to his eyes and studied the spot. +It was evidently a camp-fire and smouldering dangerously, +and turning his horse’s head he rode toward it to +stamp it out. It was not upon his patrol; but that did +not matter, his duty was clear.</p> +<p>As he drew near he began to perceive signs of a broken +camp; the ground was littered with utensils. It was +not an ordinary camp-fire, and the ranger’s heart quickened. +“Another sheep-herder has been driven out, and +his tent and provisions burned!” he exclaimed, wrathfully.</p> +<p>His horse snorted and shied as he rode nearer, and +then a shudder passed through the ranger’s heart as +he perceived in the edge of the smouldering embers +a boot heel, and then—<i>a charred hand!</i> In the smoke +of that fire was the reek of human flesh.</p> +<p>For a long time the ranger sat on his horse, peering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +down into those ashes until at last it became evident to +his eyes that at least two sheep-herders had been sacrificed +on the cattle-man’s altar of hate and greed.</p> +<p>All about on the sod the story was written, all too +plain. Two men, possibly three, had been murdered—cut +to pieces and burned—not many hours before. There +stood the bloody spade with which the bodies had been +dismembered, and there lay an empty can whose oil +had been poured upon the mingled camp utensils, tent, +and wagon of the herders, in the attempt to incinerate +the hacked and dismembered limbs of the victims. The +lawlessness of the range had culminated. The ferocity +of the herder had gone beyond the savage. Here in the +sweet autumn air the reek of the cattle-man’s vengeance +rose like some hideous vapor, poisonous and obscene.</p> +<p>The ranger sickened as the bloody tale unfolded itself +before him. Then a fierce hate of such warfare flamed +in his heart. Could this enormity be committed under +any other civilized flag? Would any other Government +intermingle so foolishly, so childishly its State and +Federal authority as to permit such diabolism?</p> +<p>Here lay the legitimate fruit of the State’s essential +hoodlumism. Here was the answer to local self-government—to +democracy. Such a thing could not happen +in Australia or Canada; only in America could lynch +law become a dramatic pastime, a jest, an instrument of +private vengeance. The South and the West were alike +stained with the blood of the lynched, and the whole +nation was covered with shame.</p> +<p>In his horror, his sense of revolt, he cursed the State of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +which he was a citizen. He would have resigned his +commission at the moment, so intense was his resentment +of the supine, careless, jovial, slattern Government +under which he was serving.</p> +<p>“By the Lord!” he breathed, with solemn intensity, “if +this does not shame the people of this State into revolt, +if these fiends are not hounded and hung, I will myself +harry them. I cannot live and do my duty here unless +this crime is avenged by law.”</p> +<p>It did not matter to him that these herders were poor +Basques; it was the utter, horrifying, destructive disregard +of law which raised such tumult in his blood. +His English education, his soldier’s training, his native +refinement—all were outraged. Then, too, he loved the +West. He had surrendered his citizenship under the +British flag—for this!</p> +<p>Chilled, shaking, and numb, he set spurs to his horse +and rode furiously down the trail toward the nearest +town, so eager to spread the alarm that he could scarcely +breathe a deep breath. On the steep slopes he was +forced to walk, and his horse led so badly, that his +agony of impatience was deepened. He had a vision +of the murderers riding fast into far countries. Each +hour made their apprehension progressively the more +difficult.</p> +<p>“Who were they?” he asked himself, again and again. +“What kind of man did this thing? Was the leader +a man like Ballard? Even so, he was hired. By whom? +By ranchers covetous of the range; that was absolutely +certain.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span></p> +<p>It was long after noon before he came to the end of +the telephone-line in a little store and post-office at the +upper falls of Deer Creek. The telephone had a booth +fortunately, and he soon had Redfield’s ear, but his +voice was so strained and unnatural that his chief did +not recognize it.</p> +<p>“Is that you, Ross? What’s the matter? Your +voice sounds hoarse.”</p> +<p>Ross composed himself, and told his story briefly. “I’m +at Kettle Ranch post-office. Now listen. The limit of +the cattle-man’s ferocity has been reached. As I rode +down here, to get into communication with a doctor for +a sick herder, I came upon the scene of another murder +and burning. The fire is still smouldering; at least +two bodies are in the embers.”</p> +<p>At last, bit by bit, from hurried speech, the supervisor +derived the fact, the location, the hour, and directed the +herder to ride back and guard the remains till the sheriff +arrived.</p> +<p>“Keep it all quiet,” warned Ross, “and get the sheriff +and a doctor to come up here as quick as you can. What +in the name of God is this country coming to?” he +cried, in despair. “Will this deed go unpunished, like +the rest?”</p> +<p>Redfield’s voice had lost its optimistic ring. “I don’t +know; I am stunned by it all. Don’t do anything +rash, Ross. Wait till I come. Perhaps this is the turning-point +out here. I’ll be up at the earliest moment.”</p> +<p>The embittered and disheartened ranger then called +up Lee Virginia, and the sound of her sweet voice turned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +his thoughts to other and, in a sense, more important +matters; for when she heard his name she cried out +with such eager longing and appeal that his heart +leaped. “Oh, I wish you were here! Mother has been +worse to-day. She is asking for you. Can’t you come +down and see us? She wants to tell you something.”</p> +<p>“I can’t—I can’t!” he stammered. “I—I—I’m a +long way off, and I have important work to do. Tell +her I will come to-morrow.”</p> +<p>Her voice was filled with disappointment and fear as +she said: “Oh, I need you so! Can’t you come?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I will come as soon as I can. I will try to +reach you by daylight to-morrow. My heart is with +you. Call up the Redfields; they will help you.”</p> +<p>“Mother wants <i>you</i>. She says she <i>must</i> see you. +Come as soon as you can. I don’t know what she wants +to tell you—but I do know we need you.”</p> +<p>Her meaning was as clear as if she said: “I need you, +for I love you. Come to me.” And her prayer filled +him with pain as well as pleasure. He was a soldier and +under orders from his chief, therefore he said: “Dear +girl, there is a sick man far up on the mountain-side +with no one to care for him but a poor old herder who +is in danger of falling sick himself. I must go back +to them; but, believe me, I will come just as soon +as my duties will let me. You understand me, don’t +you?”</p> +<p>Her voice was fainter as she said: “Yes, but I—it +seems hard to wait.”</p> +<p>“I know. Your voice has helped me. I was in a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +black mood when I came here. I’m going back now to +do my work, and then I will come to you. Good-bye.”</p> +<p>Strangely beautiful and very subtle was the vibrant +stir of that wire as it conveyed back to his ear the little +sigh with which she made answer to his plea. He took +his way upward in a mood which was meditative but +no longer bitter.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XI_SHADOWS_ON_THE_MIST' id='XI_SHADOWS_ON_THE_MIST'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +<h2>XI</h2> +<h3>SHADOWS ON THE MIST</h3> +</div> + +<p>The decision which Cavanagh made between love and +duty distinguished the officer from the man, the soldier +from the civilian. He did not hesitate to act, and yet +he suffered a mental conflict as he rode back toward the +scene of that inhuman sacrifice on the altar of greed. +His heart went out to Lee Virginia in longing. Her +appealing voice still lay in his ear with an effect like the +touch of her soft lips, and his flagging horse suffered +from the unconscious pressure of his haste.</p> +<p>“It will be hours before any part of the sheriff’s posse +can reach the falls, even though they take to the swiftest +motors, and then other long hours must intervene before +I can ride down to her. Yes, at least a day and a night +must drag their slow course before I can hope to be of +service to her,” and the thought drew a groan of anxiety +from him. At such moments of mental stress the +trail is a torture and the mountain-side an inexorable +barrier.</p> +<p>Half-way to the hills he was intercepted by an old man +who was at work on an irrigating ditch beside the road. +He seemed very nervous and very inquisitive, and as he +questioned the ranger his eyes were like those of a dog +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +that fears his master’s hand. Ross wondered about this +afterward, but at the moment his mind was busy with +the significance of this patient toiler with a spade. He +was a prophetic figure in the most picturesque and sterile +land of the stockman. “Here within twenty miles of +this peaceful fruit-grower,” he said, “is the crowning +infamy of the free-booting cowboy. My God, what a +nation we are!”</p> +<p>He wondered, as he rode on, whether the papers of the +State would make a jest of <i>this</i> deed. “Will this be +made the theme for caustic comment in the Eastern press +for a day, and then be forgotten?”</p> +<p>As his hot blood cooled he lost faith in even this sacrifice. +Could anything change the leopard West into the +tameness and serenity of the ox? “No,” he decided, +“nothing but death will do that. This generation, these +fierce and bloody hearts, must die; only in that way can +the tradition of violence be overcome and a new State +reared.”</p> +<p>At the foot of the toilsome, upward-winding trail he +dismounted, and led his weary horse. Over his head, +and about half-way to the first hilltop, lay a roof of +fleecy vapor, faint purple in color and seamless in texture. +Through this he must pass, and it symbolized to +him the line of demarkation between the plain and the +mountain, between order and violence.</p> +<p>Again he rose above it, to find it a fantastic sea lit +by the sun, and glowing with pink and gold and violet. +Celestial in its ethereal beauty, it threw into still more +appalling shadow the smoking altar of passion toward +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +which he spurred. From moment to moment the surface +rose and shifted in swift, tumultuous, yet soundless +waves, breaking round pine-clad promontories in shimmering +breakers, faint, and far, and serene.</p> +<p>Down through a deep canon to the south a prodigious +river of mist was rushing, a silent cataract of ashy vapor +plunging to a soundless beach. Above and beyond it +the high peaks shone in radiance so pure that the heart +of the lover ached with the pain of its evanescent beauty. +It was as if he were looking across a foaming flood upon +the stupendous and shining park of some imperial potentate +whose ornate and splendid country home lay +just beyond. Rocky spires rose like cathedral towers, +and fortresses abutted upon the stream. And yet in +the midst of that glorified plain the smoke of the burning +rose.</p> +<p>Slowly he led his horse along the mountain-side, grasping +with eager desire at every changing aspect of this +marvellous scene. It was infinitely more gorgeous, more +compelling, than his moonlight experience the night before, +for here reality, definite and powerful, was interfused +with mystery. These foot-hills, hitherto pleasantly +precipitous, had suddenly become grandiose. All was +made over upon a mightier scale, each rock and tree being +distorted by the passing translucent clouds into a kind +of monstrous yet epic proportion.</p> +<p>Ghostly white ledges broke from the darker mist like +fields of distant crusted snow. Castellated crags loomed +from the mystic river like fortified islands. Cattle, silent, +enormously aggrandized, emerged like fabled beasts of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +the eld, and stared upon him, their jaws dripping with +dew. Bulls roared from the obscure deeps. Dead trees, +with stark and sinister arms, menaced warningly. All +was as unreal as the world of pain’s delirium, and yet +was as beautiful as the poet’s vision; and the ranger, +feeling that he was looking upon one of Nature’s rarest +displays, removed his hat in worship of it, thrilling with +pride and satisfaction over the thought that this was +his domain, his to guard and preserve.</p> +<p>The crowning glow of mystery and grace came as he +led his horse out upon a projecting point of rocky ledge +to rest. Here the cliff descended abruptly to an enormous +depth, and upon the vaporous rolling flood beneath +him a dome of darker shadow rested. At the summit +of this shadow an aureole of rainbow light, a complete +and glorious circle rested, in the midst of which his own +image was flung, grotesque and gigantic.</p> +<p>“The Shadows of the Brocken!” he exclaimed, in +ecstasy, all his bitterness, his care, forgotten. “Now I +understand Goethe’s lines.” In all his life in the hills +he had never before witnessed such a combination of +peak and sun and cloud and shadow.</p> +<p>His love for the range came back upon him with such +power that tears misted his eyes and his throat ached. +“Where else will I find such scenes as this?” he asked +himself. “Where in all the lowlands could such splendors +shine? How can I leave this high world in which +these wonders come and go? I will not! Here will I +bring my bride and build my home. This is my world.”</p> +<p>But the mist grew gray, the aureole of fire faded, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +sun went down behind the hills, and the chill of evening +deepened on the trail, and as he reapproached the scene +of man’s inhumanity to man the thought of camping +there beside those charred limbs called for heroic resolution. +He was hungry, too, and as the air pinched, he +shivered.</p> +<p>“At the best, the sheriff cannot reach here before midnight,” +he said, and settled down to his unsought, revolting +vigil.</p> +<p>His one relief lay in the mental composition of a long +letter to Lee Virginia, whose life at that moment was a +comfort to him. “If such purity, such sweetness, can +come from violence and vulgarity, then surely a new and +splendid State can rise even out of the ashes of these +murdered men. Perhaps this is the end of the old,” he +mused, “perhaps this is the beginning of the new,” and +as he pondered the last faint crimson died out of the west. +“So must the hate and violence die out of America,” he +said, “leaving the clear, sweet air of liberty behind.”</p> +<p>He was near to the poet at the moment, for he was also +the lover. His allegiance to the great republic stood the +test. His faith in democracy was shaken, but not destroyed. +“I will wait,” he decided. “This shall be the sign. +If this deed goes unavenged, then will I put off my badge +and my uniform, and go back to the land where for a +hundred years at least such deeds as these have been +impossible.”</p> +<p>He built a fire, as night fell, to serve both as beacon +and as a defence against the cold. He felt himself weirdly +remote in this vigil. From his far height he looked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +abroad upon the tumbled plain as if upon an ocean dimly +perceptible yet august. “At this moment,” he said, +“curious and perhaps guilty eyes are wondering what +my spark of firelight may mean.”</p> +<p>His mind went again and again to that tall old man in +the ditch. What was the meaning of his scared and +sorrowful glance? Why should one so peacefully employed +at such a time and in such a place wear the look +of a hunted deer? What meant the tremor in his voice?</p> +<p>Was it possible that one so gentle should have taken +part in this deed? “Preposterous suspicion, and yet +he had a guilty look.”</p> +<p>He was not a believer in ghosts, but he came nearer to +a fear of the dark that night than ever before in his life. +He brought his horse close to the fire for company, and +was careful not to turn his back upon the dead. A +corpse lying peacefully would not have produced this +overpowering horror. He had seen battle-fields, but +this pile of mangled limbs conquered even the hardened +campaigner. He shivered each time his memory went +back to what he had first looked upon—the charred hand, +the helpless heel.</p> +<p>From his high hill of meditation he reviewed the history +of the West. Based in bloody wars between the primitive +races, and between the trappers and their allies, the land +had passed through a thin adumbration of civilization as +the stockmen drove out the buffalo and their hunters. +Vigilantes, sheriff’s posses (and now and again the regular +army) had swept over these grassy swells on errands +of retributory violence, and so the territory had been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +divided at last into populous States. Then politics, the +great national game, had made of them a power, with +Senators to represent a mere handful of miners and herdsmen. +In the Congress of the United States these commonwealths +had played their unscrupulous games, +trading for this and for that local appropriation. Happily +in some instances these Senators had been higher than +their State, but in other cases they represented only too +loyally the violent and conscienceless cow-man or lumber +king, and now, as Redfield had said, the land-boomer +was to have his term. The man who valued residents, +not Wild West performers, was about to govern and +despoil; this promoter, almost as selfish as the cattle +king, was about to advance the State along the lines of +<i>his</i> conception of civilization; and so, perhaps, this monstrous +deed, this final inexcusable inhuman offence against +law and humanity, was to stand as a monument dividing +the old from the new. Such, at least, was the ranger’s hope.</p> +<p>At last, far in the night, he heard the snort of a horse +and the sound of voices. The law (such as it was) was +creeping up the mountain-side in the person of the sheriff +of Chauvenet County, and was about to relieve the ranger +from his painful responsibility as guardian of the dead.</p> +<p>At last he came, this officer of the law, attended (like +a Cheyenne chief) by a dozen lesser warriors of various +conditions and kinds, but among them—indeed, second +only to the sheriff—was Hugh Redfield, the Forest +Supervisor, hot and eager with haste.</p> +<p>As they rode up to the fire, the officer called out: +“Howdy, ranger! How about it?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></p> +<p>Ross stated briefly, succinctly, what he had discovered; +and as he talked other riders came up the hill and gathered +closely around to listen in wordless silence—in +guilty silence, the ranger could not help believing.</p> +<p>The sheriff, himself a cattle-man, heard Cavanagh +without comment till he had ended with a gesture. +“And there they are; I turn them over to you with vast +relief. I am anxious to go back to my own peaceful +world, where such things do not happen.”</p> +<p>The sheriff removed his hat and wiped his brow, then +swore with a mutter of awe. “Well, by God, this is the +limit! You say there were three bodies?”</p> +<p>“I lacked the courage to sort them out. I’ve been +in battle, Mr. Sheriff, and I’ve seen dead men tumbled +in all shapes, but someway this took the stiffening +out of my knees. I rode away and left them. I don’t +care to see them again. My part of this work is +done.”</p> +<p>Redfield spoke. “Sheriff Van Horne, you and I have +been running cattle in this country for nearly thirty +years, and we’ve witnessed all kinds of shooting and +several kinds of hanging, but when it comes to chopping +and burning men, I get off. I shall personally offer a +reward of a thousand dollars for the apprehension of +these miscreants, and I hope you’ll make it your solemn +duty to hunt them to earth.”</p> +<p>“You won’t have far to go,” remarked Ross, significantly.</p> +<p>“What do you mean?” asked the sheriff.</p> +<p>“I mean this slaughter, like the others that have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +taken place, was the work of cattle-men who claim this +range. Their names are known to us all.”</p> +<p>“Can it be possible!” exclaimed Redfield, looking +round at the silent throng, and in the wavering light certain +eyes seemed to shift and fall.</p> +<p>“In what essential does it differ from the affair over +on the Red Desert?” demanded Cavanagh. “Who +would kill these poor sheep-herders but cattle-men +warring for the grass on which we stand?”</p> +<p>“But they would not dare to do such work themselves.”</p> +<p>“No one else would do it. Hired assassins would not +chop and burn. Hate and greed were both involved in +this butchery—hate and greed made mad by drink. I +tell you, the men who did this are less than a day’s ride +of where we stand.”</p> +<p>A silence followed—so deep a silence that the ranger +was convinced of the fact that in the circle of his listeners +stood those who, if they had not shared in the slaughter, +at least knew the names of the guilty men.</p> +<p>At last the sheriff spoke, this time with a sigh. “I +hope you’re all wrong, Cavanagh. I’d hate to think any +constituent of mine had sanctioned this job. Give me +that lantern, Curtis.”</p> +<p>The group of ranchers dismounted, and followed the +sheriff over to the grewsome spot; but Redfield stayed +with the ranger.</p> +<p>“Have you any suspicion, Ross?”</p> +<p>“No, hardly a suspicion. However, you know as +well as I that this was not a sudden outbreak. This +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +deed was planned. It represents the feeling of many +cattle-men—in everything but the extra horror of its +execution. <i>That</i> was the work of drunken, infuriated +men. But I am more deeply concerned over Miss +Wetherford’s distress. Did she reach you by telephone +to-night?”</p> +<p>“No. What’s the trouble?”</p> +<p>“Her mother is down again. I telephoned her, and +she asked me to come to her, but I cannot go, for I have a +case of smallpox up on the hill. Ambro, the Basque +herder, is down with it, and another herder is up there +alone with him. I must go back to them. But meanwhile +I wish you would go to the Fork and see what you +can do for her.”</p> +<p>His voice, filled with emotion, touched Redfield, and +he said: “Can’t I go to the relief of the herder?”</p> +<p>“No, you must not think of it; you are a man of a +family. But if you can find any one who has had the +smallpox send him up; the old herder who is nursing the +patient is not strong, and may drop any moment. Then +it’s up to me.”</p> +<p>The men came back to the camp-fire conversing in low +voices, some of them cursing in tones of awe. One or two +of them were small farmers from Deer Creek, recent +comers to the State, or men with bunches of milk-cows, +and to them this deed was awesome.</p> +<p>The sheriff followed, saying: “Well, there’s nothing to +do but wait till morning. The rest of you men better +go home. You can’t be of any use here.”</p> +<p>For more than three hours the sheriff and Redfield sat +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +with the ranger waiting for daylight, and during this time +the name of every man in the region was brought up and +discussed. Among others, Ross mentioned the old man +in the ditch.</p> +<p>“He wouldn’t hurt a bumblebee!” declared the sheriff. +“He’s got a bunch of cattle, but he’s the mildest old man +in the State. He’s the last rancher in the country to +even stand for such work. What made you mention +him?”</p> +<p>“I passed him as I was riding back,” replied Cavanagh, +“and he had a scared look in his eyes.”</p> +<p>The sheriff grunted. “You imagined all that. The +old chap always has a kind of meek look.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh, tired, hungry, and rebellious, waited until +the first faint light in the east announced the dawn; then +he rose, and, stretching his hand out toward it, said: +“Here comes the new day. Will it be a new day to the +State, or is it to be the same old round of savagery?”</p> +<p>Redfield expressed a word of hope, and in that spirit +the ranger mounted and rode away back toward the small +teepee wherein Wetherford was doing his best to expiate +his past—a past that left him old and friendless at fifty-five. +The sheriff and his men took up the work of vengeance +which fell to them as officers of the law.</p> +<p>It was nearly noon of a glorious day as Cavanagh, very +tired and very hungry, rode up to the sheep-herder’s tent. +Wetherford was sitting in the sun calmly smoking his +pipe, the sheep were feeding not far away, attended by the +dog, and an air of peace covered his sunlit rocky world.</p> +<p>“How is the Basque?” asked the ranger. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span></p> +<p>Wetherford pointed upward. “All over.”</p> +<p>“Then it wasn’t smallpox?”</p> +<p>“I reckon that’s what it was; it sure was fierce. I +judge it’s a case of Injun burial—no ceremony—right here +in the rocks. I’ll let you dig the hole (I’m just about +all in), but mind you keep to the windward all the time. +I don’t want you spotted.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh understood the necessity for these precautions, +but first of all came his own need of food and rest. +Turning his tired horse to grass, he stretched himself +along a grassy, sunny cranny between the rocks, and +there ate and afterward slept, while all about him the +lambs called and the conies whined.</p> +<p>He was awakened by a pebble tossed upon him, and +when he arose, stiff and sore, but feeling stronger and +in better temper, the sun was wearing low. Setting to +work at his task, he threw the loose rock out of a hollow +in the ledge near by, and to this rude sepulchre Wetherford +dragged the dead man, refusing all aid, and there +piled a cairn of rocks above his grave.</p> +<p>The ranger was deeply moved by the pitiless contrast +of the scene and the drama. The sun was still shining +warmly aslant the heavens; the wind, crisp and sweet, +wandered by on laggard wings, the conies cried from +the ledges; the lambs were calling—and in the midst +of it one tattered fragment of humanity was heaping +the iron earth upon another, stricken, perhaps, by the +same dread disease.</p> +<p>Wetherford himself paused to moralize. “I suppose +that chap has a mother somewhere who is wondering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +where her boy is. This isn’t exactly Christian burial, +but it’s all he’ll get, I reckon; for whether it was smallpox +or plain fever, nobody’s going to uselessly resurrect +him. Even the coyotes will fight shy of his meat.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless, the ranger took a hand at the end and +rolled some huge bowlders upon the grave, to insure the +wolves’ defeat.</p> +<p>“Now burn the bedding,” he commanded—“the whole +camp has got to go—and your clothing, too, after we +get down the hill.”</p> +<p>“What will we do with the sheep?”</p> +<p>“Drive them over the divide and leave them.”</p> +<p>All these things Wetherford did, and leaving the camp +in ashes behind him, Cavanagh drove the sheep before +him on his homeward way. As night fell, the dog, at his +command, rounded them up and put them to bed, and +the men went on down the valley, leaving the brave brute +on guard, pathetic figure of faithful guardianship.</p> +<p>“It hurts me to desert you, old fellow,” called the +ranger, looking back, “but there’s no help for it. I’ll +come up in the morning and bring you some biscuit.”</p> +<p>The collie seemed to understand. He waggled his +tail and whined, as though struggling to express his wonder +and pain, and Ross, moved to pity, called: “Come on, +boy, never mind the sheep! Come along with us!”</p> +<p>But the dog, leaping from side to side, uttered a short +howl and a sharp bark, as if to say: “I can’t! I can’t!”</p> +<p>“He’s onto <i>his</i> job,” remarked Wetherford. “It beats +all how human they do seem sometimes. I’ve no manner +of doubt that dago’s booted him all over the place +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +many a time, and yet he seemed horrible sorry about his +master’s trouble. Every few minutes, all night long, he’d +come pattering and whining round the door of the tent—didn’t +come in, seemed just trying to ask how things +were coming. He was like a child, lonesome and +grieving.”</p> +<p>It was long after dark when they entered the canon +just above the cabin, and Wetherford was shivering from +cold and weakness.</p> +<p>“Now you pull up just outside the gate, and wait there +till I bring out some blankets; then you’ve got to strip to +the skin and start the world all over again,” said Cavanagh. +“I’ll build a fire here, and we’ll cremate your +past. How about it?”</p> +<p>“I’m willing,” responded Wetherford. “You can +burn everything that belongs to me but my wife and my +girl.”</p> +<p>All through the ceremony which followed ran this +self-banter. “I’ll be all ranger, barring a commission,” +he said, with a grin, as he put on the olive-yellow shirt +and a pair of dusty-green trousers. “And here goes my +past!” he added, as he tossed his contaminated rags +upon the fire.</p> +<p>“What a corking opportunity to make a fresh start,” +commented Cavanagh. “I hope you see it.”</p> +<p>“I see it; but it’s hard to live up to your mark.”</p> +<p>When every precaution had been taken, the ranger +led the freshly scrubbed, scoured, and transformed fugitive +to his cabin.</p> +<p>“Why, man, you’re fit for the State Legislature,” he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +exclaimed, as they came into the full light. “My clothes +don’t precisely meet every demand you make upon +them, but they give you an air of command. I wish +your wife could see you now.”</p> +<p>Wetherford was quite serious as he answered: “This +uniform means more to me than you think. I wish I +was entitled to wear it. The wild-wood is just about +populous enough for me.”</p> +<p>“Good for you!” responded Cavanagh. “To convert +a man of your record to a belief in conservation is to +demonstrate once again the regenerative power of an +idea.” Then, seeing that Wetherford was really in +earnest, he added: “You can stay with me as long as you +wish. Perhaps in time you might be able to work into +the service as a guard, although the chief is getting more +and more insistent on real foresters.”</p> +<p>There were tears in Wetherford’s eyes as he said: +“You cannot realize what this clean, warm uniform +means to me. For nine years I wore the prison stripes; +then I was turned loose with a shoddy suit and a hat a +size too big for me—an outfit that gave me away everywhere +I went. Till my hair and beard sprouted I had +a hard rustle of it, but my clothes grew old faster than +my beard. At last I put every cent I had earned into a +poor old horse, and a faded saddle, and once mounted I +kept a-moving north.” He smoothed the sleeve of his +coat. “It is ten years since I was dressed like a +man.”</p> +<p>“You need not worry about food or shelter for the +present,” replied Cavanagh, gently. “Grub is not costly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +here, and house-rent is less than nominal, so make yourself +at home and get strong.”</p> +<p>Wetherford lifted his head. “But I want to do something. +I want to redeem myself in some way. I don’t +want my girl to know who I am, but I’d like to win her +respect. I can’t be what you say she thinks I was, but +if I had a chance I might show myself a man again. I +wouldn’t mind Lize knowing that I am alive—it might +be a comfort to her; but I don’t want even her to be told +till I can go to her in my own duds.”</p> +<p>“She’s pretty sick,” said Cavanagh. “I telephoned Lee +Virginia last night, and if you wish you may ride down +with me to-morrow and see her.”</p> +<p>The old man fell a-tremble. “I daren’t do that. I +can’t bear to tell her where I’ve been!”</p> +<p>“She needn’t know. I will tell her you’ve been out of +your mind. I’ll say anything you wish! You can go to her +in the clothes you have on if you like—she will not recognize +you as the prisoner I held the other night. You +can have your beard trimmed, and not even the justice +will know you.”</p> +<p>All reserve had vanished out of the convict’s heart, and +with choking voice he thanked his young host. “I’ll +never be a burden to you,” he declared, in firmer voice. +“And if my lung holds out, I’ll show you I’m not the +total locoe that I ’pear to be.”</p> +<p>No further reference was made to Lee Virginia, but +Ross felt himself to be more deeply involved than ever +by these promises; his fortunes seemed to be inextricably +bound up with this singular and unhappy family. Lying +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +in his bunk (after the lights were out), he fancied himself +back in his ancestral home, replying to the questions of +his aunts and uncles, who were still expecting him to +bring home a rich and beautiful American heiress. Some +of the Cavanaghs were drunkards and some were vixens, +but they were on the whole rather decent, rather decorous +and very dull, and to them this broken ex-convict and +this slattern old barmaid would seem very far from the +ideal they had formed of the family into which Ross was +certain to marry.</p> +<p>But as he recalled the spot in which he lay and the +uniform which hung upon the wall, he was frank to admit +that the beautiful and rich heiress of whom his family +dreamed was a very unsubstantial vision indeed, and +that, to be honest with himself, he had nothing to offer +for such shining good-fortune.</p> +<p>At breakfast next morning he said: “I must ride back +and take some bread to the dog. I can’t go away and +leave him there without saying ‘hello.’”</p> +<p>“Let me do that,” suggested Wetherford. “I’m +afraid to go down to the Fork. I reckon I’d better go +back and tend the sheep till Gregg sends some one up +to take my place.”</p> +<p>“That might be too late to see Lize. Lee’s voice +showed great anxiety. She may be on her death-bed. +No; you’d better go down with me to-day,” he urged. +And at last the old man consented.</p> +<p>Putting some bread in his pockets, Ross rode off up +the trail to see how the dog and his flock were faring. +He had not gone far when he heard the tinkle of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +bells and the murmur of the lambs, and a few moments +later the collie came toward him with the air of a boy +who, having assumed to disregard the orders of his +master, expects a scolding. He plainly said: “I’ve +brought my sheep to you because I was lonesome. +Please forgive me.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh called to him cheerily, and tossed him a +piece of bread, which he caught in his teeth but did not +swallow; on the contrary, he held it while leaping for +joy of the praise he heard in his new-found master’s +voice.</p> +<p>Turning the flock upward again toward the higher +peaks, the ranger commanded the collie to their heels, +and so, having redeemed his promise, rode back to the +cabin, where he found Wetherford saddled and ready +for his momentous trip to the valley. He had shaved +away his gray beard, and had Ross been unprepared for +these changes he would have been puzzled to account +for this decidedly military figure sitting statuesquely on +his pony before the door.</p> +<p>“You can prove an alibi,” he called, as he drew near. +“Gregg himself would never recognize you now.”</p> +<p>Wetherford was in no mood for joking. “Lize will. +I wore a mustache in the old days, and there’s a scar +on my chin.”</p> +<p>As he rode he confided this strange thing to Cavanagh. +“I know,” said he, “that Lize is old and wrinkled, for +I’ve seen her, but all the same I can’t realize it. That +heavy-set woman down there is not Lize. My Lize is +slim and straight. This woman whom you know has +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +stolen her name and face, that’s all. I can’t explain +exactly what I feel, but Lee Virginia means more to me +now than Lize.”</p> +<p>“I think I understand you,” said Cavanagh, with +sympathy in his voice.</p> +<p>The nearer Wetherford came to the actual meeting +with his wife the more he shook. At last he stopped in +the road. “I don’t believe I can do it,” he declared. +“I’ll be like a ghost to her. What’s the use of it? She’ll +only be worried by my story. I reckon I’d better keep +dark to everybody. Let me go back. I’m plum scared +cold.”</p> +<p>While still he argued, two men on horseback rounded +a sharp turn in the trail and came face to face with the +ranger. Wetherford’s face went suddenly gray. “My +God, there’s the deputy!”</p> +<p>“Keep quiet. I’ll do the talking,” commanded Cavanagh, +who was instant in his determination to shield +the man. “Good-morning, gentlemen,” he called, cheerily, +“you’re abroad early!”</p> +<p>The man in front was the deputy sheriff of the county; +his companion was a stranger.</p> +<p>“That was a horrible mess you stumbled on over on +Deer Creek,” the deputy remarked.</p> +<p>“It certainly was. Have any arrests been made?”</p> +<p>“Not yet, but we’re on a clew. This is Marshal +Haines, of Dallas, Mr. Cavanagh,” pursued the deputy. +The two men nodded in token of the introduction, +and the deputy went on: “You remember that old cuss +that used to work for Gregg?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></p> +<p>Again Cavanagh nodded.</p> +<p>“Well, that chap is wanted by the Texas authorities. +Mr. Haines, here, wants to see him mighty bad. He’s an +escaped convict with a bad record.”</p> +<p>“Is that so?” exclaimed Cavanagh. “I thought he +seemed a bit gun-shy.”</p> +<p>“The last seen of him was when Sam Gregg sent him +up to herd sheep. I think he was mixed up in that killing, +myself—him and Ballard—and we’re going up to get +some track of him. Didn’t turn up at your station, did +he?”</p> +<p>“Yes, he came by some days ago, on his way, so he +said, to relieve that sick Basque, Ambro. I went up a +couple of days ago, and found the Basque dead and the +old man gone. I buried the herder the best I could, and +I’m on my way down to report the case.”</p> +<p>The deputy mused: “He may be hanging ’round some +of the lumber-camps. I reckon we had better go up and +look the ground over, anyhow. We might just chance to +overhaul him.”</p> +<p>“He may have pulled out over the range,” suggested +the ranger. “Anyhow, it’s a long way up there, and +you’ll probably have to camp at my place to-night. +You’ll find the key hanging up over the door. Go in +and make yourself comfortable.”</p> +<p>The deputy thanked him, and was about to ride on +when Cavanagh added: “I burned that Basque’s tent +and bedding for fear of contagion. His outfit was worthless, +anyhow. You’ll find the sheep just above my +cabin, and the horse in my corral.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p> +<p>“The old man didn’t take the horse, eh? Well, that +settles it; he’s sure at one of the camps. Much obliged. +Good-day.”</p> +<p>As the two officers rode away Wetherford leaned heavily +on his pommel and stared at the ranger with wide eyes. +His face was drawn and his lips dry. “They’ll get me! +My God, they’ll get me!” he said.</p> +<p>“Oh no, they won’t,” rejoined Cavanagh. “You’re +all right yet. They suspected nothing. How could +they, with you in uniform and in my company?”</p> +<p>“All the same, I’m scared. That man Haines had his +eyes on me every minute. He saw right through me. +They’ll get me, and they’ll charge me up with that +killing.”</p> +<p>“No, they won’t, I tell you,” insisted the ranger. +“Haines suspected nothing. I had his eye. He never +saw you before, and has nothing but a description to go +by. So cheer up. Your uniform and your position with +me will make you safe—perfectly safe. They’ll find the +Basque’s camp burned and the sheep in charge of the +dog, and they’ll fancy that you have skipped across the +range. But see here, old man,” and he turned on him +sharply, “you didn’t tell me the whole truth. You said +you were out on parole.”</p> +<p>“I couldn’t tell you the whole truth,” replied the +fugitive. “But I will now. I was in for a life sentence. +I was desperate for the open air and homesick for the +mountains, and I struck down one of the guards. I was +willing to do anything to get out. I thought if I could +get back to this country and my wife and child I’d be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +safe. I said I’d be willing to go back to the pen if +necessary, but I’m not. I can’t do it. I’d die there in +that hell. You must save me for my girl’s sake.”</p> +<p>His voice and eyes were wild with a kind of desperate +fury of fear, and Cavanagh, moved to pity, assured him of +his aid. “Now listen,” he said. “I’m going to shield +you on account of your work for that poor shepherd and +for your daughter’s sake. It’s my duty to apprehend you, +of course, but I’m going to protect you. The safest thing +for you to do is to go back to my cabin. Ride slow, so +as not to get there till they’re gone. They’ll ride over +to the sawmill, without doubt. If they come back this +way, remember that the deputy saw you only as a ragged +old man with a long beard, and that Haines has nothing +but a printed description to go by. There’s no use trying +to flee. You are a marked man in that uniform, and you +are safer right here with me than anywhere else this side +of Chicago. Haines is likely to cross the divide in the +belief that you have gone that way, and, if he does, you +have no one but the deputy to deal with.”</p> +<p>He succeeded at last in completely rousing the older +man’s courage.</p> +<p>Wetherford rose to meet his opportunity. “I’ll do it,” +he said, firmly.</p> +<p>“That’s the talk!” exclaimed Cavanagh, to encourage +him. “You can throw them off the track this time, and +when I come back to-morrow I’ll bring some other +clothing for you, and then we’ll plan some kind of a +scheme that will get you out of the country. I’ll not let +them make a scapegoat of you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></p> +<p>The ranger watched the fugitive, as he started back +over the trail in this desperate defiance of his pursuers, +with far less confidence in the outcome than he +had put into words.</p> +<p>“All depends on Wetherford himself. If his nerve +does not fail him, if they take the uniform for granted, +and do not carry the matter to the Supervisor, we will +pull the plan through.” And in this hope he rode +away down the trail with bent head, for all this bore +heavily upon his relationship to the girl waiting for him +in the valley. He had thought Lize a burden, a social +disability, but a convict father now made the mother’s +faults of small account.</p> +<p>The nearer he drew to the meeting with Lee Virginia +the more important that meeting became. After all, +woman is more important than war. The love of home +and the child persists through incredible vicissitudes; +the conqueror returns from foreign lands the lover still; +and in the deep of flooded mines and on the icy slopes of +arctic promontories dead men have been found holding +in their rigid hands the pictured face of some fair girl. +In the presence of such irrefutable testimony, who shall +deny the persistence and the reality of love?</p> +<p>Cavanagh had seen Virginia hardly more than a score +of times, and yet she filled his thought, confused his plans, +making of his brain a place of doubt and hesitation. For +her sake he had entered upon a plan to shield a criminal, +to harbor an escaped convict. It was of no avail to argue +that he was moved to shield Wetherford because of his +heroic action on the peak. He knew perfectly well that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +it was because he could not see that fair, brave girl +further disgraced by the discovery of her father’s identity, +for in the searching inquiry which would surely follow +his secret would develop.</p> +<p>To marry her, knowing the character of her father and +her mother, was madness, and the voice within him warned +him of his folly. “Pure water cannot be drawn from +corrupt sources,” it is said. Nevertheless, the thought of +having the girl with him in the wilderness filled him with +divine recklessness. He was bewitched by the satin +smoothness of her skin, the liquid light of her eye, the +curve of her cheek, the swell of her bosom, and, most of +all, by the involuntary movement of yielding which betrayed +her trust and her love. While still he debated, +alternately flushed with resolve to be happy and chilled +by some strange dejection, he met Swenson, the young +guard who guarded the forest on the south Fork.</p> +<p>As he rode up, Cavanagh perceived in the other man’s +face something profoundly serious. He did not smile in +greeting, as was usual with him, and, taking some letters +from his pocket, passed them over in ominous silence.</p> +<p>Cavanagh, upon looking them over, selected a letter +evidently from Mrs. Redfield, and stuffed the others +into his coat-pocket. It was a closely written letter, and +contained in its first sentence something which deeply +affected him. Slipping from his saddle, he took a seat +upon a stone, that he might the better read and slowly +digest what was contained therein. He read on slowly, +without any other movement than that which was required +to turn the leaves. It was a passionate plea from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +Eleanor Redfield against his further entanglement with +Lize Wetherford’s girl.</p> +<p>“You cannot afford to marry her. You simply cannot. +The old mother is too dreadful, and may live on for years. +The girl is attractive, I grant you, but she’s tainted. If +there is anything in the law of heredity, she will develop +the traits of her mother or her father sooner or later. +You must not marry her, Ross; and if you cannot, what +will you do? There’s only one thing to do. Keep away. +I enclose a letter from your sister, pleading with me to +urge you to visit them this winter. She is not very +strong, as you can see by her writing, and her request +will give you an excuse for breaking off all connection +with this girl. I am sorry for her, Ross, but you can’t +marry her. You must not—you must not! Ride over +and see us soon, and we will talk it all out together.”</p> +<p>He opened another letter, but did not read it. He was +too profoundly shaken by the first. He felt the pure +friendship, the fine faith, and the guardianship of the +writer, and he acknowledged the good sense of all she +said, and yet—and yet—</p> +<p>When he looked up Swenson was staring down at him +with a face of such bitterness that it broke through even +the absorbed and selfish meditation into which he had +been thrown.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Swenson? You look as if you +had lost a friend.”</p> +<p>“I have,” answered the guard, shortly, “and so have +you. The chief is out.”</p> +<p>“What?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></p> +<p>“They’ve got him!” he exclaimed. “He’s out.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh sprang up. “I don’t believe it! For what +reason? Why?”</p> +<p>“Don’t that letter tell you? The whole town is +chuckling. Every criminal and plug-ugly in the country +is spitting in our faces this morning. Yes, sir, the President +has fired the chief—the man that built up this +Forestry Service. The whole works is goin’ to hell, +that’s what it is. We’ll have all the coal thieves, +water-power thieves, poachers, and free-grass pirates +piling in on us in mobs. They’ll eat up the forest. I +see the finish of the whole business. They’ll put some +Western man in, somebody they can work. Then where +will we be?”</p> +<p>Cavanagh’s young heart burned with indignation, but +he tried to check the other man’s torrent of protest.</p> +<p>“I can’t believe it. There’s some mistake. Maybe +they’ve made him the secretary of the department or +something.”</p> +<p>“No, they haven’t. They’ve thrown him out. They’ve +downed him because he tried to head off some thievery +of coal-mines in Alaska.” The man was ready to weep +with chagrin and indignant sorrow. His voice choked, +and he turned away to conceal his emotion.</p> +<p>Cavanagh put the letter back into his pocket and +mounted his horse. “Well, go on back to your work, +Swenson. I’m going to town to get the Supervisor on +the wire, and find out what it all means.”</p> +<p>He was almost as badly stunned by the significance of +Swenson’s news as Swenson himself. Could it be possible +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +that the man who had built up the field service of the +bureau—the man whose clean-handed patriotism had +held the boys together, making them every year more +clearly a unit, a little army of enthusiasts—could it be possible +that the originator, the organizer of this great plan, +had been stricken down just when his influence was of +most account? He refused to believe it of an administration +pledged to the cause of conservation.</p> +<p>As he entered the town he was struck instantly by the +change in the faces turned toward him, in the jocular +greetings hurled at him. “Hello, Mr. Cossack! What +do you think of your chief now?”</p> +<p>“This will put an end to your infernal nonsense,” said +another. “We’ll have a man in there now who knows the +Western ways, and who’s willing to boom things along. +The cork is out of your forest bottle.”</p> +<p>Gregg was most offensive of all. “This means throwing +open the forest to anybody that wants to use it. +Means an entire reversal of this fool policy.”</p> +<p>“Wait and see,” replied Cavanagh, but his face was +rigid with the repression of the fear and anger he felt. +With hands that trembled he opened the door to the +telephone-booth, closed it carefully behind him, and +called for the Supervisor’s office. As soon as Redfield +replied, he burst forth in question: “Is it true that the +chief is out?”</p> +<p>Redfield’s voice was husky as he replied, “Yes, lad, +they’ve got him.”</p> +<p>“Good Lord! What a blow to the service!” exclaimed +Cavanagh, with a groan of sorrow and rage. “What +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +is the President thinking of—to throw out the only man +who stood for the future, the man who had built up this +corps, who was its inspiration?” Then after a pause he +added, with bitter resolution: “This ends it for me. +Here’s where I get off.”</p> +<p>“Don’t say that, boy. We need you now more than +ever.”</p> +<p>“I’m through. I’m done with America—with the +States. I shall write my resignation at once. Send down +another man to take my place.”</p> +<p>Redfield’s pleadings were of no avail. Cavanagh +went directly from the booth to the post-office, and there, +surrounded by jeering and exultant citizens, he penned +his resignation and mailed it. Then, with stern and contemptuous +face, he left the place, making no reply to the +jeers of his enemies, and, mounting his horse, mechanically +rode away out upon the plains, seeking the quiet, +open places in order to regain calmness and decision. He +did not deliberately ride away from Lee Virginia, but as +he entered upon the open country he knew that he was +leaving her as he was leaving the forests. He had cut +himself off from her as he had cut himself off from the +work he loved. His heart was swollen big within his +breast. He longed for the return of “the Colonel” to +the White House. “What manner of ruler is this who +is ready to strike down the man whose very name means +conservation, and who in a few years would have made +this body of forest rangers the most effective corps of its +size in the world?” He groaned again, and his throat +ached with the fury of his indignation. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p> +<p>“Dismissed for insubordination,” the report said. +“In what way? Only in making war on greed, in +checking graft, in preserving the heritage of the people.”</p> +<p>The lash that cut deepest was the open exultation of +the very men whose persistent attempt to appropriate +public property the chief had helped to thwart. “Redfield +will go next. The influence that got the chief will +get Hugh. He’s too good a man to escape. Then, as +Swenson says, the thieves will roll in upon us to slash, +and burn, and corrupt. What a country! What a +country!”</p> +<p>As he reached the end of this line of despairing thought, +he came back to the question of his remaining personal +obligations. Wetherford must be cared for, and then—and +then! there was Virginia waiting for him at this +moment. In his weakness he confessed that he had +never intended to marry her, and yet he had never deliberately +intended to do her wrong. He had always +stopped short of the hideous treachery involved in despoiling +her young love. “And for her sake, to save +her from humiliation, I will help her father to freedom.”</p> +<p>This brought him back to the hideous tragedy of the +heights, and with that thought the last shred of faith in +the sense of justice in the State vanished.</p> +<p>“They will never discover those murderers. They +will permit this outrage to pass unpunished, like the +others. It will be merely another ‘dramatic incident’ +in the history of the range.”</p> +<p>His pony of its own accord turned, and by a circuitous +route headed at last for the home canon as if it knew +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +its master’s wavering mind. Cavanagh observed what +he was doing, but his lax hand did not intervene. Helpless +to make the decision himself, he welcomed the intervention +of the homing instinct of his horse. With +bent head and brooding face he returned to the silence of +the trail and the loneliness of the hills.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XII_CAVANAGH_S_LAST_VIGIL_BEGINS' id='XII_CAVANAGH_S_LAST_VIGIL_BEGINS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +<h2>XII</h2> +<h3>CAVANAGH’S LAST VIGIL BEGINS</h3> +</div> + +<p>On his solitary ride upward and homeward the ranger +searched his heart and found it bitter and disloyal. +Love had interfered with duty, and pride had checked +and defeated love. His path, no longer clear and definite, +looped away aimlessly, lost in vague, obscure +meanderings. His world had suddenly grown gray.</p> +<p>The magnificent plan of the Chief Forester (to which +he had pledged such buoyant allegiance) was now a +thing apart, a campaign in which he was to be merely +an onlooker. It had once offered something congenial, +helpful, inspiring; now it seemed fantastic and futile +without the man who shaped it. “I am nearing forty,” +he said; “Eleanor is right. I am wasting my time here +in these hills; but what else can I do?”</p> +<p>He had no trade, no business, no special skill, save in +the ways of the mountaineer, and to return to his ancestral +home at the moment seemed a woful confession of +failure.</p> +<p>But the cause of his deepest dismay and doubt was +the revelation to himself of the essential lawlessness of +his love, a force within him which now made his duties +as a law-enforcer sadly ironic. After all, was not the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +man who presumed upon a maiden’s passion and weakness +a greater malefactor than he who steals a pearl or +strangles a man for his gold? To betray a soul, to +poison a young life, is this not the unforgivable crime?</p> +<p>“Here am I, a son of the law, complaining of the +lawlessness of the West—fighting it, conquering it—and +yet at the same time I permit myself to descend to the +level of Neill Ballard, to think as the barbaric man +thinks.”</p> +<p>He burned hot with contempt of himself, and his teeth +set hard in the resolution to put himself beyond the +reach of temptation. “Furthermore, I am concealing a +criminal, cloaking a convict, when I should be arresting +him,” he pursued, referring back to Wetherford. “And +why? Because of a girl’s romantic notion of her father, +a notion which can be preserved only by keeping his +secret, by aiding him to escape.” And even this motive, +he was obliged to confess, had not all been on the highest +plane. It was all a part of his almost involuntary campaign +to win Virginia’s love. The impulse had been +lawless, lawless as the old-time West, and the admission +cut deep into his self-respect.</p> +<p>It was again dusk as he rode up to his own hitching-pole +and slipped from the saddle.</p> +<p>Wetherford came out, indicating by his manner that +he had recovered his confidence once more. “How did +you find things in the valley?” he inquired, as they walked +away toward the corral.</p> +<p>“Bad,” responded the ranger.</p> +<p>“In what way?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span></p> +<p>“The chief has been dismissed and all the rascals are +chuckling with glee. I’ve resigned from the service.”</p> +<p>Wetherford was aghast. “What for?”</p> +<p>“I will not serve under any other chief. The best +thing for you to do is to go out when I do. I think by +keeping on that uniform you can get to the train with +me.”</p> +<p>“Did you see Lize and my girl?”</p> +<p>“No, I only remained in town a minute. It was too +hot for me. I’m done with it. Wetherford, I’m going +back to civilization. No more wild West for me.” The +bitterness of his voice touched the older man’s heart, but +he considered it merely a mood.</p> +<p>“Don’t lose your nerve; mebbe this ends the reign of +terror.”</p> +<p>“Nothing will end the moral shiftlessness of this +country but the death of the freebooter. You can’t put +new wine into old bottles. These cattle-men, deep in +their hearts, sympathize with the wiping-out of those +sheep-herders. The cry for justice comes from the man +whose ear is not being chewed—the man far off—and +from the town-builder who knows the State is being hurt +by such atrocities; but the ranchers over on Deer Creek +will conceal the assassins—you know that. You’ve had +experience with these free-grass warriors; you know +what they are capable of. That job was done by men +who hated the dagoes—hated ’em because they were +rival claimants for the range. It’s nonsense to attempt +to fasten it on men like Neill Ballard. The men who +did that piece of work are well-known stock-owners.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span></p> +<p>“I reckon that’s so.”</p> +<p>“Well, now, who’s going to convict them? I can’t do +it. I’m going to pull out as soon as I can put my books +in shape, and you’d better go too.”</p> +<p>They were standing at the gate of the corral, and the +roar of the mountain stream enveloped them in a cloud +of sound.</p> +<p>Wetherford spoke slowly: “I hate to lose my girl, +now that I’ve seen her, but I guess you’re right; and Lize, +poor old critter! It’s hell’s shame the way I’ve queered +her life, and I’d give my right arm to be where I was +twelve years ago; but with a price on my head and old +age comin’ on, I don’t see myself ever again getting up +to par. It’s a losing game for me now.”</p> +<p>There was resignation as well as despair in his voice +and Cavanagh felt it, but he said, “There’s one other +question that may come up for decision—if that Basque +died of smallpox, you may possibly take it.”</p> +<p>“I’ve figured on that, but it will take a day or two to +show on me. I don’t feel any ache in my bones yet. +If I do come down, you keep away from me. You’ve +got to live and take care of Virginia.”</p> +<p>“She should never have returned to this accursed +country,” Cavanagh harshly replied, starting back toward +the cabin.</p> +<p>The constable, smoking his pipe beside the fireplace, +did not present an anxious face; on the contrary, he +seemed plumply content as he replied to the ranger’s +greeting. He represented very well the type of officer +which these disorderly communities produce. Brave +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +and tireless when working along the line of his prejudices, +he could be most laxly inefficient when his duties +cut across his own or his neighbor’s interests. Being +a cattle-man by training, he was glad of the red herring +which the Texas officer had trailed across the line of his +pursuit.</p> +<p>This attitude still further inflamed Cavanagh’s indignant +hate of the country. The theory which the deputy +developed was transparent folly. “It was just a case +of plain robbery,” he argued. “One of them dagoes +had money, and Neill Ballard and that man Edwards +just naturally follered him and killed the whole bunch +and scooted—that’s my guess.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh’s outburst was prevented by the scratching +and whining of a dog at his door. For a moment he +wondered at this; his perturbed mind had dropped the +memory of the loyal collie.</p> +<p>As he opened the door, the brute, more than half +human in his gaze, looked beseechingly at his new master, +as if to say, “I couldn’t help it—I was so lonely. +And I love you.”</p> +<p>“You poor beastie,” the ranger called, pityingly, and +the dog leaped up in a frenzy of joyous relief, putting +his paws on his breast, then dropped to the ground, and, +crouching low on his front paws, quivered and yawned +with ecstasy of worship. It seemed that he could not +express his passionate adoration, his relief, except by +these grotesque contortions.</p> +<p>“Come in, Laddie!” Ross urged, but this the dog refused +to do. “I am a creature of the open air,” he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +seemed to say. “My duties are of the outer world. I +have no wish for a fireside—all I need is a master’s praise +and a bit of bread.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh brought some food, and, putting it down +outside the door, spoke to him, gently: “Good boy! +Eat that and go back to your flock. I’ll come to see you +in the morning.”</p> +<p>When Cavanagh, a few minutes later, went to the door +the dog was gone, and, listening, the ranger could hear the +faint, diminishing bleating of the sheep on the hillside +above the corral. The four-footed warden was with his +flock.</p> +<p>An hour later the sound of a horse’s hoofs on the +bridge gave warning of a visitor, and as Cavanagh went +to the door Gregg rode up, seeking particulars as to +the death of the herder and the whereabouts of the +sheep.</p> +<p>The ranger was not in a mood to invite the sheepman +in, and, besides, he perceived the danger to which Wetherford +was exposed. Therefore his answers were short. +Gregg, on his part, did not appear anxious to enter.</p> +<p>“What happened to that old hobo I sent up?” he +asked.</p> +<p>Cavanagh briefly retold his story, and at the end of it +Gregg grunted. “You say you burned the tent and all +the bedding?”</p> +<p>“Every thread of it. It wasn’t safe to leave it.”</p> +<p>“What ailed the man?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know, but it looked and smelled like smallpox.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span></p> +<p>The deputy rose with a spring. “Smallpox! You +didn’t <i>handle</i> the cuss?”</p> +<p>Cavanagh did not spare him. “Somebody had to lend +a hand. I couldn’t see him die there alone, and he had +to be buried, so I did the job.”</p> +<p>Gregg recoiled a step or two, but the deputy stood +staring, the implication of all this sinking deep. “Were +you wearing the same clothes you’ve got on?”</p> +<p>“Yes, but I used a slicker while working around the +body.”</p> +<p>“Good King!” The sweat broke out on the man’s +face. “You ought to be arrested.”</p> +<p>Ross took a step toward him. “I’m at your service.”</p> +<p>“Keep off!” shouted the sheriff.</p> +<p>Ross smiled, then became very serious. “I took every +precaution, Mr. Deputy; I destroyed everything that +could possibly carry the disease. I burned every utensil, +including the saddle, everything but the man’s horse and +his dog!”</p> +<p>“The dog!” exclaimed the deputy, seized with another +idea. “Not that dog you fed just now?”</p> +<p>“The very same,” replied Cavanagh.</p> +<p>“Don’t you know a dog’s sure to carry the poison in +his hair? Why, <i>he jumped on you</i>! Why didn’t you +shoot him?” he demanded, fiercely.</p> +<p>“Because he’s a faithful guardian, and, besides, he was +with the sheep, and never so much as entered the tent.”</p> +<p>“Do you <i>know</i> that?”</p> +<p>“Not absolutely, but he seemed to be on shy terms with +the herder, and I’m sure—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></p> +<p>The officer caught up his hat and coat and started for +the door. “It’s me for the open air,” said he.</p> +<p>As the men withdrew Ross followed them, and, standing +in his door, delivered his final volley. “If this State does +not punish those fiends, every decent man should emigrate +out of it, turning the land over to the wolves, the +wildcats, and other beasts of prey.”</p> +<p>Gregg, as he retreated, called back: “That’s all right, +Mr. Ranger, but you’d better keep to the hills for a +few weeks. The settlers down below won’t enjoy having +a man with smallpox chassayin’ around town. +They might rope and tie you.”</p> +<p>Wetherford came out of his hiding-place with a grave +face. “I wonder I didn’t think of that collie. They +say a cat’s fur will carry disease germs like a sponge. +Must be the same with a dog.”</p> +<p>“Well, it’s too late now,” replied Cavanagh. “But +they’re right about our staying clear of town. They’ll +quarantine us sure. All the same, I don’t believe the +dog carried any germs of the disease.”</p> +<p>Wetherford, now that the danger of arrest was over, +was disposed to be grimly humorous. “There’s no great +loss without some small gain. I don’t think we’ll be +troubled by any more visitors—not even by sheriffs or +doctors. I reckon you and I are in for a couple of +months of the quiet life—the kind we read about.”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Cavanagh, now that he was definitely out of the Forest +Service, perceived the weight of every objection which +his friends and relatives had made against his going +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +into it. It was a lonely life, and must ever be so. It +was all very well for a young unmarried man, who loved +the woods and hills beyond all things else, and who could +wait for advancement, but it was a sad place for one +who desired a wife. The ranger’s place was on the trail +and in the hills, and to bring a woman into these high +silences, into these lone reaches of forest and fell, would +be cruel. To bring children into them would be criminal.</p> +<p>All the next day, while Wetherford pottered about the +cabin or the yard, Cavanagh toiled at his papers, resolved +to leave everything in the perfect order which he +loved. Whenever he looked round upon his belongings, +each and all so redolent of the wilderness—he found them +very dear. His chairs (which he had rived out of slabs), +his guns, his robes, his saddles and their accoutrements—all +meant much to him. “Some of them must +go with me,” he said. “And when I am settled down in +the old home I’ll have one room to myself which shall +be so completely of the mountain America that when +I am within it I can fancy myself back in the camp.”</p> +<p>He thought of South Africa as a possibility, and put +it aside, knowing well that no other place could have the +same indefinable charm that the Rocky Mountains possessed, +for the reason that he had come to them at his +most impressionable age. Then, too, the United States, +for all their faults, seemed merely an extension of the +English form of government.</p> +<p>Wetherford was also moving in deep thought, and at +last put his perplexity into a question. “What am I to +do? I’m beginning to feel queer. I reckon the chances +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +for my having smallpox are purty fair. Maybe I’d +better drop down to Sulphur and report to the authorities. +I’ve got a day or two before the blossoms will begin to +show on me.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh studied him closely. “Now don’t get to +thinking you’ve got it. I don’t see how you could attach +a germ. The high altitude and the winds up there ought +to prevent infection. I’m not afraid for myself, but if +you’re able, perhaps we’d better pull out to-morrow.”</p> +<p>Later in the day Wetherford expressed deeper dejection. +“I don’t see anything ahead of me anyhow,” he +confessed. “If I go back to the ‘pen’ I’ll die of lung +trouble, and I don’t know how I’m going to earn a living +in the city. Mebbe the best thing I could do would be +to take the pox and go under. I’m afraid of big towns,” +he continued. “I always was—even when I had money. +Now that I am old and broke I daren’t go. No city for +me.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh’s patience gave way. “But, man, you can’t +stay here! I’m packing up to leave. Your only chance +of getting out of the country is to go when I go, and in +my company.” His voice was harsh and keen, and the +old man felt its edge; but he made no reply, and this sad +silence moved Cavanagh to repentance. His irritability +warned him of something deeply changing in his own +nature.</p> +<p>Approaching the brooding felon, he spoke gently and +sadly. “I’m sorry for you, Wetherford, I sure am, but +it’s up to you to get clear away so that Lee will never +by any possible chance find out that you are alive. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +has a romantic notion of you as a representative of the +old-time West, and it would be a dreadful shock to her +if she knew you as you are. It’s hard to leave her, I +know, now that you’ve seen her, but that’s the manly +thing to do—the only thing to do.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you’re right—of course you’re right. But I wish +I could be of some use to her. I wish I could chore round +for the rest of my life, where I could kind o’ keep watch +over her. I’d be glad enough to play the scullion in her +kitchen. But if you’re going to take her—”</p> +<p>“But I’m not,” protested Ross. “I’m going to leave +her right here. I can’t take her.”</p> +<p>Wetherford looked at him with steady eyes, into which +a keen light leaped. “Don’t you intend to marry her?”</p> +<p>Ross turned away. “No, I don’t—I mean it is impossible!”</p> +<p>“Why not? Don’t tell me you’re already married?” +He said this with menacing tone.</p> +<p>“No, I’m not married, but—” He stopped without +making his meaning plain. “I’m going to leave the +country and—”</p> +<p>Wetherford caught him up. “I reckon I understand +what you mean. You consider Lize and me undersirable +parents—not just the kind you’d cut out of the herd of +your own free will. Well, that’s all right, I don’t blame +you so far as I’m concerned. But you can forget me, +consider me a dead one. I’ll never bother her nor +you.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh threw out an impatient hand. “It is impossible,” +he protested. “It’s better for her and better +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +for me that I should do so. I’ve made up my mind. +I’m going back to my own people.”</p> +<p>Wetherford was thoroughly roused now. Some part +of his old-time fire seemed to return to him. He rose +from his chair and approached the ranger firmly. “I’ve +seen you act like a man, Ross Cavanagh. You’ve been +a good partner these last few days—a son couldn’t have +treated me better—and I hate like hell to think ill of you; +but my girl loves you—I could see that. I could see her +lean to you, and I’ve got to know something else right now. +You’re going to leave here—you’re going to throw her +off. What I want to know is this: Do you leave her as +good as you found her? Come, now, I want an answer, +as one man to another.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh’s eyes met his with firm but sorrowful gaze. +“In the sense in which you mean, I leave her as I found +her.”</p> +<p>The old man’s open hand shot out toward his rescuer. +“Forgive me, my lad,” he said, humbly; “for a minute +I—doubted you.”</p> +<p>Ross took his hand, but slowly replied: “It will be +hard for you to understand, when I tell you that I care +a great deal for your daughter, but a man like me—an +Englishman—cannot marry—or he ought not to marry—to +himself alone. There are so many others to consider—his +friends, his sisters—”</p> +<p>Wetherford dropped his hand. “I see!” His tone +was despairing. “When I was young we married the +girls we loved in defiance of man, God, or the cupboard; +but you are not that kind. You may be right. I’m +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +nothing but a debilitated old cow-puncher branded by +the State—a man who threw away his chance—but I +can tell you straight, I’ve learned that nothing but the +love of a woman counts. Furthermore,” and here his fire +flashed again, “I’d have killed you had you taken advantage +of my girl!”</p> +<p>“Which would have been your duty,” declared Cavanagh, +wearily.</p> +<p>And in the face of this baffling mood, which he felt +but could not understand, the old man fell silent.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIII_CAVANAGH_ASKS_FOR_HELP' id='XIII_CAVANAGH_ASKS_FOR_HELP'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +<h2>XIII</h2> +<h3>CAVANAGH ASKS FOR HELP</h3> +</div> + +<p>Lee Virginia waited with increasing impatience for +Ross Cavanagh’s return, expecting each noon to see +him appear at the door; but when three days passed +without word or sign from him, her uneasiness deepened +into alarm. The whole town was profoundly excited +over the murder, that she knew, and she began to fear +that some of the ranger’s enemies had worked their evil +will upon him.</p> +<p>With this vague fear in her heart, she went forth into +the street to inquire. One of the first men she met was +Sifton, who was sitting, as usual, outside the livery-barn +door, smiling, inefficient, content. Of him she asked: +“Have you seen Mr. Cavanagh?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he answered, “I saw him yesterday, just after +dinner, down at the post-office. He was writing a letter +at the desk. Almost immediately afterward he mounted +and rode away. He was much cut up over his chief’s +dismissal.”</p> +<p>“Why has he not written to me,” she asked herself, +“and why should he have gone away without a word +of greeting, explanation, or good-bye? It would have +taken but a moment’s time to call at the door.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></p> +<p>The more she dwelt upon this neglect the more significant +it became. After the tender look in his eyes, after +the ardent clasp of his hand, the thought that he could +be so indifferent was at once a source of pain and self-reproach.</p> +<p>With childish frankness she went to Lize and told her +what she had learned, her eyes dim with hot tears. +“Ross came to town, and went away back to his cabin +without coming to see me.”</p> +<p>“Are you sure he’s been here?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Mr. Sifton saw him go. He came in, got some +letters at the post-office, and then rode away—” Her +voice broke as her disappointment and grief overcame +her.</p> +<p>Lize struggled to a sitting position. “There’s some +mistake about this. Ross Cavanagh never was the +whifflin’ kind of man. You’ve got to remember he’s on +duty. Probably the letter was some order that carried +him right back to his work.”</p> +<p>“But if he had really cared, he could have ridden by +to say just a word; but he didn’t, he went away without +a sign, after promising to come.” She buried her face +in the coverlet of her mother’s bed, and wept in childish +grief and despair.</p> +<p>Lize was forced to acknowledge that the ranger’s +action was inexplicable, but she did her best to make +light of it. “He may have hurried to town on some +errand, and hadn’t a moment to spare. These are exciting +days for him, remember. He’ll be in to-morrow +sure.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></p> +<p>With a faint hope of this, the girl rose and went about +her daily tasks; but the day passed, and another, without +word or sign of the recreant lover, and each day brought +a deeper sense of loss, but her pride would not permit +her to show her grief.</p> +<p>Young Gregg, without knowing in the least the cause +of her troubled face, took this occasion to offer comfort. +His manner toward her had changed since she no longer +had a part in the management of the eating-house, and +for that reason she did not repulse him as sharply as +she had been wont to do. He really bore Cavanagh no +ill-will, and was, indeed, shrewd enough to understand +that Lee admired the ranger, and that his own courtship +was rather hopeless; nevertheless, he persisted, his respect +for her growing as he found her steadfast in her refusal +to permit any familiarity.</p> +<p>“See here, Miss Virginia,” he cried, as she was passing +him in the hall, “I can see you’re worried about Lize +(I mean your mother), and if I can be of any use I hope +you’ll call on me.” As she thanked him without enthusiasm, +he added: “How is she to-night?”</p> +<p>“I think she’s better.”</p> +<p>“Can I see her?”</p> +<p>His tone was so earnest that the girl was moved to +say: “I’ll ask her.”</p> +<p>“I wish you would; I want to say something to her.”</p> +<p>Lize’s voice reached where they stood. “Come in, +Joe, the door’s open.”</p> +<p>He accepted her invitation rather awkwardly, but his +face was impassive as he looked down upon her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></p> +<p>“Well, how about it?” she asked. “What’s doing in +the town?”</p> +<p>“Not much of anything—except talk. The whole +country is buzzing over this dismissal of the Chief +Forester.”</p> +<p>“They’d better be doing something about that murder.”</p> +<p>“They are; they’re going up there in streams to see +where the work was done. The coroner’s inquest was +held yesterday.” He grinned. “‘Parties came to their +death by persons unknown.’”</p> +<p>Lize scowled. “It’s a wonder they don’t charge it up +to Ross Cavanagh or some other ranger.”</p> +<p>“That would be a little too raw, even for this country. +They’re all feeling gay over this change in the forestry +head; but see here, don’t you want to get out for a ride? +I’ve got my new machine out here; it rides like silk.”</p> +<p>“I reckon a hearse is about my kind,” she replied, +darkly. “If you could take me up to Cavanagh’s cabin, +I’d go,” she added. “I want to see him.”</p> +<p>“I can take you part way,” he instantly declared. +“But you’d have to ride a horse the last ten miles.”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t do it, Joe,” she sighed. “These last few +days I’ve been about as boneless as an eel. Funny the +way a fellow keeps going when he’s got something to do +that has to be done. I’ll tell you what, if you want to +take me and Lee up to Sulphur, I’ll go ye.”</p> +<p>“Sure thing. What day?”</p> +<p>“Not for a day or two. I’m not quite up to it just +now; but by Saturday I’ll be saddle-wise again.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span></p> +<p>Joe turned joyously to Lee. “That will be great! +Won’t you come out for a spin this minute?”</p> +<p>For a moment Lee was tempted. Anything to get +away from this horrible little den and the people who +infested it was her feeling, but she distrusted Gregg, and +she knew that every eye in the town would be upon her +if she went, and, besides, Ross might return while she +was away. “No, not to-day,” she replied, finally; but +her voice was gentler than it had ever been to him.</p> +<p>The young fellow was moved to explain his position +to Lize. “You don’t think much of me, and I don’t +blame you. I haven’t been much use so far, but I’m +going to reform. If I had a girl like Lee Virginia to +live up to, I’d make a great citizen. I don’t lay my +arrest up against Cavanagh. I’m ready to pass that +by. And as for this other business—this free-range war +in which the old man is mixed up—I want you to know +that I’m against it. Dad knows his day is short; that’s +what makes him so hot. But he’s a bluff—just a fussy +old bluff. He knows he has no more right to the Government +grass than anybody else, but he’s going to get ahead +of the cattle-men if he can.”</p> +<p>“Does he know who burned them sheep-herders?”</p> +<p>“Of course he knows, but ain’t going to say so. You +see, that old Basque who was killed was a monopolist, +too. He went after that grass without asking anybody’s +leave; moreover, he belonged to that Mexican-Dago +outfit that everybody hates. The old man isn’t crying +over that job; it’s money in his pocket. All the same it’s +too good a chance to put the hooks into the cattle-men, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +hence his offering a reward, and it looks as if something +would really be done this time. They say Neill Ballard +was mixed up in it, and that old guy that showed me the +sheep, but I don’t take much stock in that. Whoever +did it was paid by the cattle-men, sure thing.” The +young fellow’s tone and bearing made a favorable impression +upon Lize. She had never seen this side of him, +for the reason that he had hitherto treated her as a bartender. +She was acute enough to understand that her +social status had changed along with her release from +the cash-register, and she was slightly more reconciled, +although she could not see her way to providing a living +for herself and Lee. For all these reasons she was unwontedly +civil to Joe, and sent him away highly elated +with the success of his interview.</p> +<p>“I’m going to let him take us up to Sulphur,” she said +to Lee. “I want to go to town.”</p> +<p>Lee was silent, but a keen pang ran through her heart, +for she perceived in this remark by her mother a tacit +acknowledgment of Ross Cavanagh’s desertion of them +both. His invitation to them to come and camp with +him was only a polite momentary impulse. “I’m ready +to go,” she announced, at last. “I’m tired of this place. +Let us go to-morrow.”</p> +<p>On the following morning, while they were busy packing +for this journey, Redfield rolled up to the door in +company with a young man in the uniform of a forester.</p> +<p>“Go ask Reddy to come in,” commanded Lize. “I +want to see him.”</p> +<p>Redfield met the girl at the door and presented his companion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +as “Mr. Dalton, District Forester.” Dalton was +a tall young fellow with a marked Southern accent. “Is +Cavanagh, the ranger, in town?” he asked.</p> +<p>“No,” Lee replied, with effort; “he was here a few +days ago, but he’s gone back to the forest.”</p> +<p>Redfield studied the girl with keen gaze, perceiving +a passionate restraint in her face.</p> +<p>“How is your mother?” he asked, politely.</p> +<p>Lee smiled faintly. “She’s able to sit up. Won’t +you come in and see her?”</p> +<p>“With pleasure,” assented Redfield, “but I want to +see you alone. I have something to say to you.” He +turned to his superior. “Just go into the café, Dalton. +I’ll see you in a moment.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia, hitherto ashamed of the house, the +furniture, the bed—everything—led the way without a +word of apology. It was all detached now, something +about to be left behind, like a bad garment borrowed in +a time of stress. Nothing mattered since Ross did not +return.</p> +<p>Lize, looking unwontedly refined and gentle, was +sitting in a big rocking-chair with her feet on a stool, +her eyes fixed on the mountains, which showed through +the open window. All the morning a sense of profound +change, of something passing, had oppressed her. Now +that she was about to leave the valley, its charm appealed +to her. She was tearing up a multitude of tiny roots of +whose existence she had hitherto remained unaware. +“I belong here,” she acknowledged, silently. “I’d be +homesick anywhere else on God’s earth. It’s rough and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +fly-bit, and all that, but so am I. I wouldn’t fit in anywhere +that Lee belonged.”</p> +<p>She acknowledged an especial liking for Redfield, and +she had penetration enough, worldly wisdom enough, to +know that Lee belonged more to his world than to her +own, and that his guidance and friendship were worth +more, much more, than that of all the rest of the country, +her own included. Therefore, she said: “I’m mighty +glad to see you, Reddy. Sit down. You’ve got to hear +my little spiel this time.”</p> +<p>Redfield, perched on the edge of a tawdry chair, looked +about (like the charity visitor in a slum kitchen) without +intending to express disgust; but it was a dismal +room in which to be sick, and he pitied the woman the +more profoundly as he remembered her in the days +when “all out-doors” was none too wide for her.</p> +<p>Lize began, abruptly: “I’m down, but not out; in fact, +I was coming up to see you this afternoon. Lee and I +are just about pulling out for good.”</p> +<p>“Indeed! Why not go back with me?”</p> +<p>“You can take the girl back if you want to, but now +that I’m getting my chance at you I may not go.”</p> +<p>Redfield’s tone was entirely cordial as he turned to +Lee. “I came hoping to carry you away. Will you +come?”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid I can’t unless mother goes,” she replied, +sadly.</p> +<p>Lize waved an imperative hand. “Fade away, child. +I want to talk with Mr. Redfield alone. Go, see!”</p> +<p>Thus dismissed, Lee went back to the restaurant, where +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +she found the Forester just sitting down to his luncheon. +“Mr. Redfield will be out in a few minutes,” she explained.</p> +<p>“Won’t you join me?” he asked, in the frank accent +of one to whom women are comrades. “The Supervisor +has been telling me about you.”</p> +<p>She took a seat facing him, feeling something refined +in his long, smoothly shaven, boyish face. He seemed +very young to be District Forester, and his eyes were a +soft brown with small wrinkles of laughter playing round +their corners.</p> +<p>He began at once on the subject of his visit. “Redfield +tells me you are a friend of Mr. Cavanagh’s; did you know +that he had resigned?”</p> +<p>She faced him with startled eyes. “No, indeed. Has +he done so?”</p> +<p>“Yes, the Supervisor got a letter yesterday enclosing his +resignation, and asking to be relieved at once. And +when I heard of it I asked the Supervisor to bring me +down to see him; he’s too good a man to lose.”</p> +<p>“Why did he resign?”</p> +<p>“He seemed very bitter over the chief’s dismissal; +but I hope to persuade him to stay in the service; he’s +too valuable a man to lose just now when the war is so +hot. I realize that his salary is too small; but there +are other places for him. Perhaps when he knows that +I have a special note to him from the chief he will +reconsider. He’s quite capable of the Supervisor’s position, +and Mr. Redfield is willing to resign in his favor. +I’m telling you all this because Mr. Redfield has told +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +me of your interest in Mr. Cavanagh—or rather his interest +in you.”</p> +<p>Sam Gregg, entering the door at this moment, came +directly to the Forester’s table. He was followed by +the sheriff, a bearded old man with a soiled collar and +a dim eye.</p> +<p>Gregg growled out, “You’d better keep your man +Cavanagh in the hills, Mr. Forester, or somebody will +take a pot-shot at him.”</p> +<p>“Why, what’s new?”</p> +<p>“His assistant is down with smallpox.”</p> +<p>“<i>Smallpox</i>!” exclaimed Dalton.</p> +<p>Every jaw was fixed and every eye turned upon the +speaker.</p> +<p>“Smallpox!” gasped Lee.</p> +<p>Gregg resumed, enjoying the sensation he was creating. +“Yes, that Basque herder of mine—the one up +near Black Tooth—sent word he was sick, so I hunted +up an old tramp by the name of Edwards to take his +place. Edwards found the dago dying of pox, and +skipped out over the range, leaving him to die alone. +Cavanagh went up and found the dago dead, and took +care of him—result is, he’s full of germs, and has brought +his apprentice down with it, and both of ’em must be +quarantined right where they are.”</p> +<p>“Good heavens, man!” exclaimed Dalton. “This is +serious business. Are you sure it’s smallpox?”</p> +<p>“One of my men came from there last night. I was +there myself on Monday, so was the deputy. The +sheriff missed Tom this morning, but I reached him by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +’phone, and Cavanagh admitted to us that the Basque +died of smallpox, and that he buried him with his own +hands.”</p> +<p>The sheriff spoke up. “The criminal part of it is +this, Mr. Dalton: Cavanagh didn’t report the case when +he came down here, just went about leaving a trail of +poison. Why didn’t he report it? He should be +arrested.”</p> +<p>“Wait a moment,” said Dalton. “Perhaps it wasn’t +pox, perhaps it was only mountain-fever. Cavanagh +is not the kind of man to involve others in a pestilence. +I reckon he knew it was nothing but a fever, and, not +wishing to alarm his friends, he just slid into town and +out again.”</p> +<p>A flash of light, of heat, of joy went through Lee’s +heart as she listened to Dalton’s defence of Cavanagh. +“That was the reason why he rode away,” she thought. +“He was afraid of bringing harm to us.” And this conviction +lighted her face with a smile, even while the +Forester continued his supposition by saying, “Of course, +proper precautions should be taken, and as we are going +up there, the Supervisor and I will see that a quarantine +is established if we find it necessary.”</p> +<p>Gregg was not satisfied: “Cavanagh admitted to the +deputy and to me that he believed the case to be smallpox, +and said that he had destroyed the camp and everything +connected with it except the horse and the dog, and yet +he comes down here infectin’ everybody he meets.” He +turned to Lee. “You’d better burn the bed he slept on. +He’s left a trail of germs wherever he went. I say the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +man is criminally liable, and should be jailed if he lives +to get back to town.”</p> +<p>Lee’s mind was off now on another tangent. “Suppose +it is true?” she asked herself. “Suppose he has fallen +sick away up there, miles and miles from any nurse or +doctor—”</p> +<p>“There’s something queer about the whole business,” +pursued Gregg. “For instance, who is this assistant he’s +got? Johnson said there was an old man in ranger +uniform potterin’ round. Why didn’t he send word by +him? Why did he let me come to the door? He might +have involved <i>me</i> in the disease. I tell you, if you don’t +take care of him the people of the county will.”</p> +<p>The Forester looked grave. “If he <i>knew</i> it was pox +and failed to report it he certainly did wrong; but you +say he took care of this poor shepherd—nursed him till +he died, and buried him, taking all precautions—you +can’t complain of that, can you? That’s the act of a +good ranger and a brave man. <i>You</i> wouldn’t have +done it!” he ended, addressing Gregg. “Sickness up +there two full miles above sea-level is quite a different +proposition from sickness in Sulphur City or the Fork. +I shall not condemn Mr. Cavanagh till I hear his side +of the story.”</p> +<p>Lee turned a grateful glance upon him. “You must +be right. I don’t believe Mr. Cavanagh would deceive +any one.”</p> +<p>“Well, we’ll soon know the truth,” said Dalton, “for +I’m going up there. If the ranger has been exposed, he +must not be left alone.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span></p> +<p>“He ain’t alone,” declared the sheriff. “Tom +’phoned me that he had an assistant.”</p> +<p>“Swenson, I suppose,” said Redfield, who entered at +this moment. “Swenson is his assistant.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t see him myself,” Gregg continued, “but I +understood the deputy to say that he was an old man.”</p> +<p>“Swenson is a young man,” corrected Redfield.</p> +<p>The sheriff insisted. “Tom said it was an old man—a +stranger to him—tall, smooth-shaven, not very strong, +he said—’peared to be a cook. He had helped nurse +the dago, so Tom said.”</p> +<p>“That’s very curious,” mused Redfield. “There +isn’t an old man in the service of this forest. There’s a +mistake somewhere.”</p> +<p>“Well,” concluded Gregg, “that’s what he said. I +thought at first it might be that old hobo Edwards, but +this feller being in uniform and smooth-shaven—” His +face changed, his voice deepened. “Say, by the Lord! I +believe it was Edwards, and, furthermore, Edwards is the +convict that Texas marshal was after the other day, and +this man Cavanagh—your prize ranger—is harborin’ +him.”</p> +<p>“What nonsense!” exclaimed Redfield.</p> +<p>The sheriff banged his hand upon the table. “That’s +the whole mystery. I see it all now. He’s up there concealing +this man. He’s given out this smallpox scare just +to keep the officers away from him. Now you’ve got +it!”</p> +<p>The thunder in his voice drew toward him all those +who remained in the dining-room, and Lee found herself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +ringed about by a dozen excited men. But she did not +flinch; she was too deeply concerned over Cavanagh’s +fate to be afraid, and, besides, Redfield and the Forester +were beside her.</p> +<p>The Supervisor was staggered by Gregg’s accusation, +and by certain confirmatory facts in his own possession, +but he defended Cavanagh bravely. “You’re crazy,” +he replied. “Why should Ross do such a foolish thing? +What is his motive? What interest would he have in +this man Edwards, whom you call a tramp? He can’t +be a relative and certainly not a friend of Cavanagh’s, +for you say he is a convict. Come, now, your hatred of +Cavanagh has gone too far.”</p> +<p>Gregg was somewhat cooled by this dash of reason, but +replied: “I don’t know what relation he is, but these are +facts. He’s concealing an escaped convict, and he +knows it.”</p> +<p>Dalton put in a quiet word. “What is the use of +shouting a judgment against a man like Cavanagh before +you know the facts? He’s one of the best and +ablest rangers on this forest. I don’t know why he has +resigned, but I’m sure—”</p> +<p>“Has he resigned?” asked Gregg, eagerly.</p> +<p>“He has.”</p> +<p>“A damn good job for him. I was about to circulate +a petition to have him removed.”</p> +<p>“If all the stockmen in the valley had signed a petition +against him, it wouldn’t have done any good,” replied +Dalton. “We know a good man when we see him. +I’m here to offer him promotion, not to punish him.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span></p> +<p>Lee, looking about at the faces of these men, and seeing +disappointment in their faces, lost the keen sting of +her own humiliation. “In the midst of such a fight as +this, how can he give time or thought to me?” Painful as +the admission was, she was forced to admit that she was +a very humble factor in a very large campaign. “But +suppose he falls ill!” Her face grew white and set, and +her lips bitter. “That would be the final, tragic touch,” +she thought, “to have him come down of a plague from +nursing one of Sam Gregg’s sheep-herders.” Aloud +she said: “His resignation comes just in time, doesn’t +it? He can now be sick without loss to the service.”</p> +<p>Dalton answered her. “The Supervisor has not accepted +his resignation. On the contrary, I shall offer +him a higher position. His career as a forester is only +beginning. He would be foolish to give up the work +now, when the avenues of promotion are just opening. I +can offer him very soon the supervision of a forest.”</p> +<p>As they talked Lee felt herself sinking the while her +lover rose. It was all true. The Forester was right. +Ross was capable of any work they might demand of +him. He was too skilled, too intelligent, too manly, to +remain in the forest, heroic as its duties seemed.</p> +<p>Upon this discussion, Lize, hobbling painfully, appeared. +With a cry of surprise, Lee rose to meet her.</p> +<p>“Mother, you must not do this!”</p> +<p>She waved her away. “I’m all right,” she said, +“barring the big marbles in my slippers.” Then she +turned to Dalton. “Now what’s it all about? Is it +true that Ross is down?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></p> +<p>“No. So far as we know, he is well.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’m going to find out. I don’t intend to set here +and have him up there without a cook or a nurse.”</p> +<p>At this moment a tall, fair young fellow, dressed in a +ranger’s uniform, entered the room, and made his way +directly to the spot where Lee, her mother, and Redfield +were standing. “Mr. Supervisor, Cavanagh has sent +me to tell you that he needs a doctor. He’s got a sick +man up at The Station, and he’s afraid it’s a case of +smallpox.” He turned to Lee. “He told me to tell +you that he would have written, only he was afraid to +even send a letter out.”</p> +<p>“What does he need?” asked Redfield.</p> +<p>“He needs medicine and food, a doctor, and he ought +to have a nurse.”</p> +<p>“That’s my job,” said Lize.</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” said Redfield. “You’re not fit to ride +a mile. I won’t hear of your going.”</p> +<p>“You wait and see. I’m goin’, and you can’t stop me.”</p> +<p>“Who is the man with him?” asked the Forester.</p> +<p>“I don’t know. An old herder, he said. He said he +could take care of him all right for the present, but that +if he were taken down himself—”</p> +<p>Lee’s mounting emotion broke from her in a little +cry. “Oh, Mr. Redfield, please let me go too! I want +to help—I must help!”</p> +<p>Redfield said: “I’ll telephone to Sulphur City and ask +Brooks to get a nurse, and come down as soon as possible. +Meanwhile I’ll go out to see what the conditions are.”</p> +<p>“I’m going too, I tell you,” announced Lize. “I’ve +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +had the cussed disease, and I’m not afraid of it. We had +three sieges of it in my family. You get me up there, +and I’ll do the rest.”</p> +<p>“But you are ill?”</p> +<p>“I was, but I’m not now.” Her voice was firmer +than it had been for days. “All I needed was something +to do. Ross Cavanagh has been like a son to me for two +years; he’s the one man in this country I’d turn my hand +over for—barrin’ yourself, Reddy—and it’s my job to see +him through this pinch.”</p> +<p>In spite of all opposition, she had her way. Returning +to her room to get such clothing as she needed for her +stay in the hills, she waited for Redfield to send a carriage +to her. “I can’t ride a horse no more,” she sorrowfully +admitted.</p> +<p>Lee’s secret was no secret to any one there. Her wide +eyes and heaving breast testified to the profound stir in +her heart. She was in an anguish of fear lest Ross +should already be in the grip of his loathsome enemy. +That it had come to him by way of a brave and noble +act only made the situation the more tragic.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIV_THE_PESTHOUSE' id='XIV_THE_PESTHOUSE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +<h2>XIV</h2> +<h3>THE PEST-HOUSE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Cavanagh had kept a keen watch over Wetherford, +and when one night the old man began to complain of +the ache in his bones his decision was instant.</p> +<p>“You’ve got it,” he said. “It’s up to us to move down +the valley to-morrow.”</p> +<p>Wetherford protested that he would as soon die in the +hills as in the valley. “I don’t want Lee Virginia to +know, but if I seem liable to fade out, I’d like Lize to +be told that I didn’t forget her, and that I came back to +find out how she was. I hate to be a nuisance to you, +and so I’ll go down the valley if you say so.”</p> +<p>As he was about to turn in that night Ross heard a +horse cross the bridge, and with intent to warn the rider +of his danger, went to the door and called out: “Halt! +Who’s there?”</p> +<p>“A friend,” replied the stranger, in a weak voice.</p> +<p>Ross permitted his visitor to ride up to the pole. “I +can’t ask you in,” he explained. “I’ve a sick man inside. +Who are you, and what can I do for you?”</p> +<p>Notwithstanding this warning the rider dropped from +his saddle, and came into the light which streamed from +the door. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span></p> +<p>“My name is Dunn,” he began. “I’m from Deer +Creek.”</p> +<p>“I know you,” responded the ranger. “You’re that +rancher I saw working in the ditch the day I went to +telephone, and you’ve come to tell me something about +that murder.”</p> +<p>The other man broke into a whimper. “I’m a law-abiding +man, Mr. Cavanagh,” he began, tremulously. +“I’ve always kept the law, and never intended to have +anything to do with that business. I was dragged into it +against my will. I’ve come to you because you’re an +officer of the Federal law. You don’t belong here. I +trust you. You represent the President, and I want to +tell you what I know—only I want you to promise not to +bring me into it. I’m a man of a family, and I can’t bear +to have them know the truth.”</p> +<p>There was deep agitation and complete sincerity in +the rancher’s choked and hesitant utterance, and Cavanagh +turned cold with a premonition of what he was +about to disclose. “I am not an officer of the law, Mr. +Dunn, not in the sense you mean, but I will respect your +wishes.”</p> +<p>“I know that you are not an officer of the county law, +but you’re not a cattle-man. It is your business to keep +the peace in the wild country, and you do it, everybody +knows that; but I can’t trust the officers of this country, +they’re all afraid of the cowboys. You’re not afraid, and +you represent the United States, and I’ll tell you. I +can’t bear it any longer!” he wailed. “I must tell +somebody. I can’t sleep and I can’t eat. I’ve been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +like a man in a nightmare ever since. I had no hand +in the killing—I didn’t even see it done; but I knew it +was going to happen. I saw the committee appointed. +The meeting that decided it was held in my barn, but +I didn’t know what they intended to do. You believe +me, don’t you?” He peered up at Cavanagh with white +face and wild eyes.</p> +<p>“Go on,” replied the ranger; “I’ll protect you—if I +can. Go on. It’s your duty—tell all you know.”</p> +<p>The troubled man, after a little silence, resumed. +“Sometimes I feel that I’d be happier in jail than I am +walking about in the sunshine. I never dreamed civilized +men could do such deeds. I thought they were +only going to scare the herders and drive them out, as +they’ve done so many times before. I can see now that +they used my barn for a meeting-place because everybody +believed me to be a man of peace. And I am. +I’m over seventy years of age, Mr. Cavanagh, and I’ve +been a law-abiding citizen all my life.”</p> +<p>His mind, shattered by the weight of his ghastly secret, +was in confusion, and, perceiving this, Cavanagh began +to question him gently. One by one he procured the +names of those who voted to “deal with” the herders. +One by one he obtained also the list of those named on +“the Committee of Reprisal,” and as the broken man +delivered himself of these accusing facts he grew calmer. +“I didn’t know—I couldn’t <i>believe</i>—that the men on that +committee could chop and burn—” His utterance failed +him again, and he fell silent abruptly.</p> +<p>“They must have been drunk—mad drunk,” retorted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +Cavanagh. “And yet who would believe that even +drink could inflame white men to such devil’s work? +When did you first know what had been done?”</p> +<p>“That night after it was done one of the men, my +neighbor, who was drawn on the committee, came to my +house and asked me to give him a bed. He was afraid +to go home. ‘I can’t face my wife and children,’ he +said. He told me what he’d seen, and then when I remembered +that it had all been decided in my stable, +and the committee appointed there, I began to tremble. +You believe I’m telling the truth, don’t you?” he again +asked, with piteous accent.</p> +<p>“Yes, I believe you. You must tell this story to the +judge. It will end the reign of the cattle-men.”</p> +<p>“Oh no, I can’t do that.”</p> +<p>“You must do that. It is your duty as a Christian +man and citizen.”</p> +<p>“No, no; I’ll stay and help you—I’ll do anything +but that. I’m afraid to tell what I know. They would +burn me alive. I’m not a Western man. I’ve never +been in a criminal court. I don’t belong to this wild +country. I came out here because my daughter is not +strong, and now—” He broke down altogether, and +leaning against his horse’s side, sobbed pitifully.</p> +<p>Cavanagh, convinced that the old man’s mind was +too deeply affected to enable him to find his way back +over the rough trail that night, spoke to him gently. “I’ll +get you something to eat,” he said. “Sit down here, and +rest and compose yourself.”</p> +<p>Wetherford turned a wild eye on the ranger as he reentered. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +“Who’s out there?” he asked. “Is it the +marshal?”</p> +<p>“No, it’s only one of the ranchers from below; he’s +tired and hungry, and I’m going to feed him,” Ross +replied, filled with a vivid sense of the diverse characters +of the two men he was serving.</p> +<p>Dunn received the food with an eager hand, and after +he had finished his refreshment, Cavanagh remarked: +“The whole country should be obliged to you for your +visit to me. I shall send your information to Supervisor +Redfield.”</p> +<p>“Don’t use my name,” he begged. “They will kill me +if they find out that I have told. We were all sworn to +secrecy, and if I had not seen that fire—that pile of +bodies—”</p> +<p>“I know, I know! It horrified me. It made me +doubt humanity,” responded Cavanagh. “We of the +North cry out against the South for lynching black rapers; +but here, under our eyes, goes on an equally horrible display +of rage over the mere question of temporary advantage, +over the appropriation of free grass, which is a +Federal resource—something which belongs neither to one +claimant nor to the other, but to the people, and should +be of value to the people. There is some excuse for +shooting and burning a man who violates a woman, but +what shall we say of those who kill and dismember men +over the possession of a plot of grass? You must bring +these men to punishment.”</p> +<p>Dunn could only shiver in his horror and repeat his +fear. “They’ll kill me if I do.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span></p> +<p>Cavanagh at last said: “You must not attempt to ride +back to-night. I can’t give you lodging in the cabin, because +my patient is sick of smallpox, but you can camp +in the barn till morning, then ride straight back to my +friend Redfield, and tell him what you’ve told me. He +will see that you are protected. Make your deposition +and leave the country, if you are afraid to remain.”</p> +<p>In the end the rancher promised to do this, but his tone +was that of a broken and distraught dotard. All the +landmarks of his life seemed suddenly shifted. All the +standards of his life hitherto orderly and fixed were now +confused and whirling, and Cavanagh, understanding +something of his plight, pitied him profoundly. It was +of a piece with this ironic story that the innocent man +should suffer madness and the guilty go calmly about +their business of grazing their cattle on the stolen grass.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the sufferings of his other patient were +increasing, and he was forced to give up all hope of getting +him down the trail next morning; and when Swenson, +the Forest Guard from the south Fork, knocked at the +door to say that he had been to the valley, and that the +doctor was coming up with Redfield and the District Forester, +Ross thanked him, but ordered him to go into camp +across the river, and to warn everybody to keep clear of +the cabin. “Put your packages down outside the door,” +he added, “and take charge of the situation on the outside. +I’ll take care of the business inside.”</p> +<p>Wetherford was in great pain, but the poison of the +disease had misted his brain, and he no longer worried +over the possible disclosure of his identity. At times he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +lost the sense of his surroundings and talked of his prison +life, or of the long ride northward. Once he rose in his +bed to beat off the wolves which he said were attacking +his pony.</p> +<p>He was a piteous figure as he struggled thus, and it +needed neither his relationship to Lee nor his bravery in +caring for the Basque herder to fill the ranger’s heart +with a desire to relieve his suffering. “Perhaps I should +have sent for Lize at once,” he mused, as the light brought +out the red signatures of the plague.</p> +<p>Once the old man looked up with wide, dark, unseeing +eyes and murmured, “I don’t seem to know +you.”</p> +<p>“I’m a friend—my name is Cavanagh.”</p> +<p>“I can’t place you,” he sadly admitted. “I feel pretty +bad. If I ever get out of this place I’m going back to the +Fork; I’ll get a gold-mine, then I’ll go back and make +up for what Lize has gone through. I’m afraid to go +back now.”</p> +<p>“All right,” Ross soothingly agreed; “but you’ll have +to keep quiet till you get over this fever you’re suffering +from.”</p> +<p>“If Lize weren’t so far away, she’d come and nurse +me—I’m pretty sick. This stone-cutting—this inside +work is hell on an old cow-puncher like me.”</p> +<p>Swenson came back to say that probably Redfield +and the doctor would reach The Station by noon, and +thereafter, for the reason that Cavanagh expected their +coming, the hours dragged wofully. It was after one +o’clock before Swenson announced that two teams were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +coming with three men and two women in them. “They’ll +be here in half an hour.”</p> +<p>The ranger’s heart leaped. Two women! Could one +of them be Lee Virginia? What folly—what sweet, +desperate folly! And the other—she could not be Lize—for +Lize was too feeble to ride so far. “Stop them on +the other side of the bridge,” he commanded. “Don’t +let them cross the creek on any pretext.”</p> +<p>As he stood in the door the flutter of a handkerchief, +the waving of a hand, made his pulses glow and his eyes +grow dim. It was Virginia!</p> +<p>Lize did not flutter a kerchief or wave a hand, but +when Swenson stopped the carriage at the bridge she +said: “No, you don’t! I’m going across. I’m going to +see Ross, and if he needs help, I’m going to roll up +my sleeves and take hold.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh saw her advancing, and, as she came near +enough for his voice to reach her, he called out: “Don’t +come any closer! Stop, I tell you!” His voice was +stern. “You must not come a step nearer. Go back +across the dead-line and stay there. No one but the +doctor shall enter this door. Now that’s final.”</p> +<p>“I want to help!” she protested.</p> +<p>“I know you do; but I won’t have it. This quarantine +is real, and it goes!”</p> +<p>“But suppose you yourself get sick?”</p> +<p>“We’ll cross <i>that</i> bridge when we get to it. I’m all +right so far, and I’ll call for help when I need it.”</p> +<p>His tone was imperative, and she obeyed, grumbling +about his youth and the value of his life to the service. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span></p> +<p>“That’s all very nice,” he replied; “but I’m in it, and +I don’t intend to expose you or any one else to the contagion.”</p> +<p>“I’ve had it once,” she asserted.</p> +<p>He looked at her, and smiled in recognition of her +subterfuge.</p> +<p>“No matter; you’re ailing, and might take it again, +so toddle back. It’s mighty good of you, and of Lee, +to come—but there isn’t a thing you can do, and here’s +the doctor,” he added, as he recognized the young +student who passed for a physician in the Fork. He +was a beardless youth of small experience and no great +courage, and as he approached with hesitant feet he +asked:</p> +<p>“Are you sure it’s smallpox?”</p> +<p>Cavanagh smiled. “The indications are all that +way. That last importation of Basques brought it +probably from the steerage of the ship. I’m told they’ve +had several cases over in the Basin.”</p> +<p>“Have you been vaccinated?”</p> +<p>“Yes; when I was in the army.”</p> +<p>“Then you’re all right.”</p> +<p>“I hope so.”</p> +<p>There was a certain comic relief in this long-distance +diagnosing of a “case” by a boy, and yet the tragic fact +beneath it all was that Wetherford was dying, a broken +and dishonored husband and father, and that his identity +must be concealed from his wife and daughter, who were +much more deeply concerned over the ranger than over +the desperate condition of his patient. “And this must +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +continue to be so,” Cavanagh decided. And as he stood +there looking toward the girl’s fair figure on the bridge, +he came to the final, fixed determination never to speak +one word or make a sign that might lead to the dying +man’s identification. “Of what use is it?” he asked +himself. “Why should even Lize be made to suffer? +Wetherford’s poor misspent life is already over for her, +and for Lee he is only a dim memory.”</p> +<p>Redfield came near enough to see that the ranger’s +face, though tired, showed no sign of illness, and was +relieved. “Who is this old herder?” he asked. “Hasn’t +he any relatives in the country?”</p> +<p>“He came from Texas, so he said. You’re not coming +in?” he broke off to say to the young physician, whom +Lize had shamed into returning to the cabin.</p> +<p>“I suppose I’ll have to,” he protested, weakly.</p> +<p>“I don’t see the need of it. The whole place reeks of the +poison, and you might carry it away with you. Unless +you insist on coming in, and are sure you can prevent +further contagion, I shall oppose your entrance. You +are in the company of others—I must consider their +welfare.”</p> +<p>The young fellow was relieved. “Well, so long as we +know what it is I can prescribe just as well right here,” +he said, and gave directions for the treatment, which +the ranger agreed to carry out.</p> +<p>“I tried to bring a nurse,” explained Redfield, “but I +couldn’t find anybody but old Lize who would come.”</p> +<p>“I don’t blame them,” replied Ross. “It isn’t a nice +job, even when you’ve got all the conveniences.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span></p> +<p>His eyes, as he spoke, were on the figure of Lee, who +still stood on the bridge awed and worshipful, barred of +approach by Lize. “She shall not know,” he silently +vowed. “Why put her through useless suffering and +shame? Edward Wetherford’s disordered life is near its +end. To betray him to his wife and daughter would be +but the reopening of an old wound.”</p> +<p>He was stirred to the centre of his heart by the coming +of Lee Virginia, so sweet and brave and trustful. His +stern mood melted as he watched her there waiting, +with her face turned toward him, longing to help. “She +would have come alone if necessary,” he declared, with +a fuller revelation of the self-sacrificing depth of her +love, “and she would come to my side this moment if I +called her.”</p> +<p>To the District Forester he said no more than to Redfield. +“Edwards is evidently an old soldier,” he declared. +“He was sent up here by Gregg to take the place of a +sick herder. He took care of that poor herder till he +died, and then helped me to bury him; now here he lies +a victim to his own sense of duty, and I shall not desert +him.” And to himself he added: “Nor betray him.”</p> +<p>He went back to his repulsive service sustained and +soothed by the little camp of faithful friends on the +other side of the stream. The tender grace of the girl’s +attitude, her air of waiting, of anxiety, of readiness to +serve, made him question the basis of his family pride. +He recognized in her the spirit of her sire, tempered, +sweetened, made more stable, by something drawn from +unknown sources. At the moment he felt that Lee was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +not merely his equal but his superior in purity of character +and in purpose. “What nonsense we talk of heredity, of +family,” he thought.</p> +<p>Standing over the wasted body of his patient, he asked +again: “Why let even Lize know? To her Ed Wetherford +is dead. She remembers him now as a young, +dashing, powerful horseman, a splendid animal, a picturesque +lover. Why wring her heart by permitting her +to see this wreck of what was once her pride?”</p> +<p>As for Wetherford himself, nothing mattered very +much. He spoke of the past now and then, but not in the +phrase of one who longs for the return of happy days—rather +in the voice of one who murmurs a half-forgotten +song. He called no more for his wife and child, and if he +had done so Cavanagh would have reasoned that the +call arose out of weakness, and that his better self, his +real self, would still desire to shield his secret from his +daughter.</p> +<p>And this was true, for during one of his clearest moments +Wetherford repeated his wish to die a stranger. +“I’m goin’ out like the old-time West, a rag of what I +once was. Don’t let them know—put no name over +me—just say: ‘An old cow-puncher lies here.’”</p> +<p>Cavanagh’s attempt to change his hopeless tone +proved unavailing. Enfeebled by his hardships and +his prison life, he had little reserve force upon which to +draw in fighting such an enemy. He sank soon after +this little speech into a coma which continued to hold +him in its unbroken grasp as night fell.</p> +<p>Meantime, seeing no chance of aiding the ranger, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +Redfield and the Forester prepared to return, but Lee, +reinforced by her mother, refused to accompany them. +“I shall stay here,” she said, “till he is safely out of it—till +I <i>know</i> that he is beyond all danger.”</p> +<p>Redfield did not urge her to return as vigorously as +Dalton expected him to do, but when he understood the +girl’s desire to be near her lover, he took off his hat and +bowed to her. “You are entirely in the right,” he said. +“Here is where you belong.”</p> +<p>Redfield honored Lize for her sympathetic support of +her daughter’s resolution, and expressed his belief that +Ross would escape the plague. “I feel that his splendid +vigor, combined with the mountain air, will carry him +through—even if he should prove not to be immune. I +shall run up again day after to-morrow. I shall be very +anxious. What a nuisance that the telephone-line is not +extended to this point. Ross has been insisting on its +value for months.”</p> +<p>Lee saw the doctor go with some dismay. Young as +he was, he was at least a reed to cling to in case the +grisly terror seized upon the ranger. “Mr. Redfield, +can’t you send a real doctor? It seems so horrible to +be left here without instructions.”</p> +<p>The Forester, before going, again besought Cavanagh +not to abandon his work in the Forestry Service, +and intimated that at the proper time advancement +would be offered him. “The whole policy is but beginning,” +said he, “and a practical ranger with your +experience and education will prove of greatest value.”</p> +<p>To this Ross made reply. “At the moment I feel that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +no promise of advancement could keep me in this country +of grafters, poachers, and assassins. I’m weary of it, +and all it stands for. However, if I could aid in extending +the supervision of the public ranges and in stopping +forever this murder and burning that goes on outside the +forestry domain, I might remain in the West.”</p> +<p>“Would you accept the supervisorship of the Washakie +Forest?” demanded Dalton.</p> +<p>Taken by surprise, he stammered: “I might; but am I +the man?”</p> +<p>“You are. Your experience fits you for a position +where the fight is hot. The Washakie Forest is even +more a bone of contention than this. We have laid +out the lines of division between the sheep and the +cows, and it will take a man to enforce our regulations. +You will have the support of the best citizens. They will +all rally, with you as leader, and so end the warfare there.”</p> +<p>“It can never end till Uncle Sam puts rangers over every +section of public lands and lays out the grazing lines as +we have done in this forest,” retorted Cavanagh.</p> +<p>“I know; but to get that requires a revolution in the +whole order of things.” Then his fine young face lighted +up. “But we’ll get it. Public sentiment is coming our +way. The old order is already so eaten away that only +its shell remains.”</p> +<p>“It may be. If these assassins are punished I shall +feel hopeful of the change.”</p> +<p>“I shall recommend you for the supervisorship of the +Washakie Forest,” concluded Dalton, decisively. “And +so good-bye and good-luck.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span></p> +<p>England, his blood relatives, even the Redfields, seemed +very remote to the ranger, as he stood in his door that +night and watched the sparkle of Swenson’s camp-fire +through the trees. With the realization that there waited +a brave girl of the type that loves single-heartedly, ready +to sacrifice everything to the welfare of her idealized subject, +he felt unworthy, selfish, vain.</p> +<p>“If I should fall sick she would insist on nursing me. +For her sake I must give Swenson the most rigid orders +not to allow her—no matter what happens—to approach. +I will not have her touched by this thing.”</p> +<p>Beside the blaze Lee and her mother sat for the most +part in silence, with nothing to do but to wait the issue +of the struggle going on in the cabin, so near and yet so +inaccessible to their will. It was as if a magic wall, +crystal-clear yet impenetrable, shut them away from the +man whose quiet heroism was the subject of their constant +thought.</p> +<p>To the girl this ride up into her lover’s world had been +both exalting and awesome—not merely because the +rough and precipitous road took her closer to her lover +while placing her farther from medical aid, but also because +it was so vast a world, so unpeopled and so beautiful.</p> +<p>It was marvellous, as the dusk fell and the air nipped +keen, to see how Lize Wetherford renewed her youth. +The excitement seemed to have given her a fresh hold on +life. She was wearied but by no means weakened by her +ride, and ate heartily of the rude fare which Swenson set +before her. “This is what I needed,” she exultantly said; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +“the open air and these trout. I feel ten years younger +already. Many’s the night I’ve camped on the range +with your father with nothing but a purp-tent to cover us +both, and the wolves howling round us. I’d feel pretty +fairly gay if it weren’t for Ross over there in that cabin +playin’ nurse and cook all by his lonesomeness.”</p> +<p>Lee expressed a deep satisfaction from the fact of their +nearness. “If he is ill we can help him,” she reiterated.</p> +<p>She had put behind her all the doubt and fear which +his abrupt desertion of her had caused, and, though he +had not been able to speak a word to her, his self-sacrifice +had made amends. She excused it all as part of his +anxious care. Whatever the mood of that other day +had been, it had given way to one that was lofty and +deeply altruistic. Her one anxiety now was born of a +deepening sense of his danger, but against this she +bent the full strength of her will. “He shall not die,” +she declared beneath her breath. “God will not permit +it.”</p> +<p>There was a touch of frost in the air as they went to their +beds, and, though she shivered, Lize was undismayed. +“There’s nothing the matter with my heart,” she exulted. +“I don’t believe there was anything really serious the +matter with me, anyway. I reckon I was just naturally +grouchy and worried over you and Ross.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia was now living a romance stranger and +more startling than any she had ever read. In imagination +she was able to look back and down upon the Fork +as if she had been carried into another world—a world +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +that was at once primeval yet peaceful: a world of +dreaming trees, singing streams, and silent peaks; a +realm in which law and order reigned, maintained by one +determined young man whose power was derived from +the President himself. She felt safe—entirely safe—for +just across the roaring mountain torrent the two intrepid +guardians of the forest were encamped. One of them, it +is true, came of Swedish parentage and the other was a +native of England, but they were both American in the +high sense of being loyal to the Federal will, and she +trusted them more unquestioningly than any other men +in all that West save only Redfield. She had no doubt +there were others equally loyal, equally to be trusted, but +she did not know them.</p> +<p>She rose to a complete understanding of Cavanagh’s +love for “the high country” and his enthusiasm for the +cause, a cause which was able to bring together the +student from Yale and the graduates of Bergen and of +Oxford, and make them comrades in preserving the trees +and streams of the mountain States against the encroachments +of some of their own citizens, who were openly, +short-sightedly, and cynically bent upon destruction, +spoliation, and misuse.</p> +<p>She had listened to the talk of the Forester and the +Supervisor, and she had learned from them that Cavanagh +was sure of swift advancement, now that he had +shown his courage and his skill; and the thought that +he might leave the State to take charge of another +forest brought her some uneasiness, for she and Lize +had planned to go to Sulphur City. She had consented +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +to this because it still left to her the possibility of occasionally +seeing or hearing from Cavanagh. But the +thought that he might go away altogether took some of +the music out of the sound of the stream and made the +future vaguely sad.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XV_WETHERFORD_PASSES_ON' id='XV_WETHERFORD_PASSES_ON'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +<h2>XV</h2> +<h3>WETHERFORD PASSES ON</h3> +</div> + +<p>For the next two days Cavanagh slept but little, for +his patient grew steadily worse. As the flame of his +fever mounted, Wetherford pleaded for air. The ranger +threw open the doors, admitting freely the cool, sweet +mountain wind. “He might as well die of a draught as +smother,” was his thought; and by the use of cold cloths +he tried to allay the itching and the pain.</p> +<p>“What I am doing may be all wrong,” he admitted to +Swenson, who came often to lean upon the hitching-pole +and offer aid. “I have had no training as a nurse, but +I must be doing something. The man is burning up, +and hasn’t much vitality to spare. I knew a ranger had +to be all kinds of things, cowboy, horse-doctor, axe-man, +carpenter, surveyor, and all the rest of it, but I didn’t +know that he had to be a trained nurse in addition.”</p> +<p>“How do you feel yourself?” asked his subordinate, +anxiously.</p> +<p>“Just tired; nothing more. I reckon I am going to +escape. I should be immune, but you never can +tell. The effect of vaccination wears off after a few +years.”</p> +<p>“The women folks over there are terribly worried, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +the old lady has made me promise to call her in if you +show the slightest signs of coming down.”</p> +<p>“Tell her to rest easy. I am keeping mighty close +watch over myself, and another night will tell the story +so far as the old man is concerned. I wish I had a real +doctor, but I don’t expect any. It is a long hard climb +up here for one of those tenderfeet.”</p> +<p>He returned to his charge, and Swenson walked slowly +away, back to the camp, oppressed with the sense of his +utter helplessness.</p> +<p>Again and again during the day Lee Virginia went to +the middle of the bridge, which was the dead-line, and +there stood to catch some sign, some wave of the hand +from her lover. Strange courtship! and yet hour by hour +the tie which bound these young souls together was +strengthened. She cooked for him in the intervals +of her watch and sent small pencilled notes to him, +together with the fish and potatoes, but no scrap +of paper came back to her—so scrupulous was Cavanagh +to spare her from the faintest shadow of danger.</p> +<p>Swenson brought verbal messages, it was true, but they +were by no means tender, for Cavanagh knew better than +to intrust any fragile vessel of sentiment to this stalwart +young woodsman. Now that Lee knew the mysterious +old man was dying, she longed for his release—for his +release would mean her lover’s release. She did not +stop to think that it would be long, very long, before she +could touch Cavanagh’s hand or even speak with him +face to face. At times under Swenson’s plain speaking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +she grew faint with the horror of the struggle which was +going on in that silent cabin.</p> +<p>This leprous plague, this offspring of crowded and +dirty tenements and of foul ship-steerages, seemed +doubly unholy here in the clean sanity of the hills. It +was a profanation, a hideous curse. “If it should seize +upon Ross—” Words failed to express her horror, her +hate of it. “Oh God, save him!” she prayed a hundred +times each day.</p> +<p>Twice in the night she rose from her bed to listen, to +make sure that Cavanagh was not calling for help. +The last time she looked out, a white veil of frost lay on +the grass, and the faint light of morning was in the east, +and in the exquisite clarity of the air, in the serene hush of +the dawn, the pestilence appeared but as the ugly +emanation of disordered sleep. The door of the ranger’s +cabin stood open, but all was silent. “He is snatching a +half-hour’s sleep,” she decided.</p> +<p>If the guard had carried in his mind the faintest intention +of permitting Lize to go to Cavanagh’s aid, that +intention came to no issue, for with the coming of the +third night Wetherford was unconscious and unrecognizable +to any one who had known him in the days of +“the free range.” Lithe daredevil in those days, +expert with rope and gun, he was as far from this scarred +and swollen body as the soaring eagle is from the carrion +which he sees and scorns.</p> +<p>He was going as the Wild West was going, discredited, +ulcerated, poisoned, incapable of rebirth, yet carrying +something fine to his grave. He had acted the part of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +brave man, that shall be said of him. He had gone to the +rescue of the poor Basque, instinctively, with the same +reckless disregard of consequences to himself which +marked his character when as a cow-boss on the range +he had set aside the most difficult tasks for his own rope +or gun. His regard for the ranger into whose care he was +now about to commit his wife and daughter, persisted in +spite of his suffering. In him was his hope, his stay. +Once again, in a lucid moment, he reverted to the +promise which he had drawn from Cavanagh.</p> +<p>“If I go, you must take care—of my girl—take care +of Lize, too. Promise me that. Do you promise?” he +insisted.</p> +<p>“I promise—on honor,” Ross repeated, and, with a +faint pressure of his hand (so slender and weak), Wetherford +sank away into the drowse which deepened hour +by hour, broken now and then by convulsions, which +wrung the stern heart of the ranger till his hands trembled +for pity.</p> +<p>All day, while the clouds sailed by, white as snow and +dazzlingly pure, while the stream roared with joy of exploration, +and the sunshine fell in dazzling floods upon +the world, the ranger bent above his ward or walked +the floor of his cabin marvelling that the air and light +of this high place should be so powerless to check the +march of that relentless plague. It seemed that to open +the doors, to fill the room with radiance, must surely kill +the mutinous motes which warred upon the tortured +body. But in the midst of nature’s sovereign charm +the reek of the conflict went up; and he wondered whether +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +even the vigor which his outdoor life had built up could +withstand the strain another day.</p> +<p>Once Lee Virginia approached close enough to hear +his voice as he warned her to go back. “You can do +nothing,” he called to her. “Please go away.” His +face was haggard with weariness, and her heart filled +with bitter resentment to think that this repulsive warfare, +this painful duty, should be thrust upon one so fine.</p> +<p>He himself felt as though his youth were vanishing, and +that in these few days he had entered upon the sober, care-filled +years of middle life. The one sustaining thought, +his one allurement, lay in the near presence of the girl +to whom he could call, but could not utter one tender word. +She was there where he could see her watching, waiting +at the bridge. “The sound of the water helps me bear +the suspense,” she said to Swenson, and the occasional +sight of her lover, the knowledge that he was still unbroken, +kept her from despair.</p> +<p>The day was well advanced when the sound of rattling +pebbles on the hill back of his cabin drew his attention, +and a few moments later a man on a weary horse rode +up to his door and dropped heavily from the saddle. +He was a small, dark individual, with spectacles, plainly +of the city.</p> +<p>“Beware! Smallpox!” called Ross, as his visitor +drew near the door.</p> +<p>The new-comer waved his hand contemptuously. +“I’ve had it. Are you Ross Cavanagh?”</p> +<p>“I am!”</p> +<p>“My name is Hartley. I represent the Denver +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +<i>Round-up</i>. I’m interested in this sheep-herder killing—merely +as a reporter,” he added, with a fleeting smile. +“Did you know old man Dunn, of Deer Creek, had +committed suicide?”</p> +<p>Cavanagh started, and his face set. “No!”</p> +<p>“They found him shot through the neck, and dying—this +morning. As he was gasping his last breath, he +said, ‘The ranger knows,’ and when they asked, ‘What +ranger,’ he said, ‘Cavanagh.’ When I heard that I +jumped a horse and beat ’em all over here. Is this +true? Did he tell you who the murderers are?”</p> +<p>Cavanagh did not answer at once. He was like a +man caught on a swaying bridge, and his first instinct +was to catch the swing, to get his balance. “Wait a +minute! What is it all to you?”</p> +<p>Again that peculiar grin lighted the small man’s dark, +unwholesome face. “It’s a fine detective stunt, and +besides it means twenty dollars per column and mebbe +a ‘boost.’ I can’t wait, you can’t wait! It’s up to us to +strike <i>now</i>! If these men knew you have their names +they’d hike for Texas or the high seas. Come now! +Everybody tells me you’re one of these idealistic highbrow +rangers who care more for the future of the West +than most natural-born Westerners. What’s your plan? +If you’ll yoke up with me we’ll run these devils into the +earth and win great fame, and you’ll be doing the whole +country a service.”</p> +<p>The ranger studied the small figure before him with +penetrating gaze. There was deliberative fearlessness +in the stranger’s face and eyes, and notwithstanding his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +calm, almost languid movement, restless energy could +be detected in his voice.</p> +<p>“What is your plan?” the ranger asked.</p> +<p>“Get ourselves deputized by the court, and jump these +men before they realize that there’s anything doing. +They count the whole country on their side, but they’re +mistaken. They’ve outdone themselves this time, and +a tremendous reaction has set in. Everybody knows +you’ve held an even hand over these warring Picts and +Scots, and the court will be glad to deputize you to +bring them to justice. The old sheriff is paralyzed. Everybody +knows that the assassins are prominent cattle-ranchers, +and yet no one dares move. It’s up to you +fellows, who represent law and order, to act quick.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh followed him with complete comprehension, +and a desire to carry out the plan seized upon him.</p> +<p>“I’d do it if I could,” he said, “but it happens I am +nursing a sick man. I am, perhaps, already exposed +to the same disease. I can’t leave here for a week or +more. It would not be right for me to expose others—”</p> +<p>“Don’t worry about that. Take a hot bath, fumigate +your clothing, shave your head. I’ll fix you up, and I’ll +get some one to take your place.” Catching sight of +Swenson and Lize on the bridge, he asked: “Who are +those people? Can’t they take your nursing job?”</p> +<p>“No!” answered Cavanagh, bluntly. “It’s no use, +I can’t join you in this—at least, not now.”</p> +<p>“But you’ll give me the names which Dunn gave +you?”</p> +<p>“No, I can’t do that. I shall tell the Supervisor, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +he can act as he sees fit—for the present I’m locked up +here.”</p> +<p>The other man looked the disappointment he felt. +“I’m sorry you don’t feel like opening up. You know +perfectly well that nothing will ever be done about this +thing unless the press insists upon it. It’s up to you and +me (me representing ‘the conscience of the East’”—here +he winked an eye—“and you Federal authority) to +do what we can to bring these men to their punishment. +Better reconsider. I’m speaking now as a citizen as +well as a reporter.”</p> +<p>There was much truth in what he said, but Cavanagh +refused to go further in the matter until he had consulted +with Redfield.</p> +<p>“Very well,” replied Hartley, “that’s settled. By-the-way, +who is your patient?”</p> +<p>Eloquently, concisely, Ross told the story. “Just a +poor old mounted hobo, a survival of the cowboy West,” +he said; “but he had the heart of a hero in him, and I’m +doing my best to save him.”</p> +<p>“Keep him in the dark, that’s the latest theory—or +under a red light. White light brings out the ulcers.”</p> +<p>“He hates darkness; that’s one reason why I’ve opened +the doors and windows.”</p> +<p>“All wrong! According to Finsen, he wouldn’t pit +in the dark. However, it doesn’t matter on a cowboy. +You’ve a great story yourself. There’s a fine situation +here which I’ll play up if you don’t object.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh smiled. “Would my objection have any +weight?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span></p> +<p>The reporter laughed. “Not much; I’ve got to carry +back some sort of game. Well, so long! I must hit the +trail over the hill.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh made civil answer, and returned to his +patient more than half convinced that Hartley was right. +The “power of the press” might prove to be a very real +force in this pursuit.</p> +<p>As the journalist was about to mount his horse he +discovered Lee Virginia on the other side of the creek. +“Hello!” said he, “I wonder what this pretty maiden +means?” And, dropping his bridle-rein again, he +walked down to the bridge.</p> +<p>Swenson interposed his tall figure. “What do you +want?” he asked, bluntly. “You don’t want to get +too close. You’ve been talking to the ranger.”</p> +<p>Hartley studied him coolly. “Are you a ranger, +too?”</p> +<p>“No, only a guard.”</p> +<p>“Why are you leaving Cavanagh to play it alone in +there?”</p> +<p>Lee explained. “He won’t let any of us come near +him.”</p> +<p>“Quite right,” retorted Hartley, promptly. “They +say smallpox has lost its terrors, but when you’re eight +hours’ hard trail from a doctor, or a hospital, it’s still +what I’d call a formidable enemy. However, Cavanagh’s +immune, so he says.”</p> +<p>“We don’t know that,” Lee said, and her hands came +together in a spasm of fear. “Are you a doctor?”</p> +<p>“No, I’m only a newspaper man; but I’ve had a lot +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +of experience with plagues of all sorts—had the yellow +fever in Porto Rico, and the typhoid in South Africa; +that’s why I’m out here richochetting over the hills. But +who are you, may I ask? You look like the rose of +Sharon.”</p> +<p>“My name is Lee Wetherford,” she answered, with +childish directness, for there was something compelling +in the man’s voice and eyes. “And this is my mother.” +She indicated Lize, who was approaching.</p> +<p>“<i>You</i> are not out here for your health,” he stated, +rather thoughtfully. “How happens it you’re here?”</p> +<p>“I was born here—in the Fork.”</p> +<p>His face remained expressionless. “I don’t believe +it. Can such maidens come out of Roaring Fork—nit! +But I don’t mean that. What are you doing up here in +this wilderness?”</p> +<p>Lize took a part in the conversation. “Another inspector?” +she asked, as she lumbered up.</p> +<p>“That’s me,” he replied; “Sherlock Holmes, Vidocque, +all rolled into one.”</p> +<p>“My mother,” again volunteered Lee.</p> +<p>Hartley’s eyes expressed incredulity; but he did not +put his feelings into words, for he perceived in Lize a +type with which he was entirely familiar—one to be +handled with care. “What are you two women doing +here? Are you related to one of these rangers?”</p> +<p>Lize resented this. “You’re asking a good many +questions, Mr. Man.”</p> +<p>“That’s my trade,” was the unabashed reply, “and +I’m not so old but that I can rise to a romantic situation.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +Thereupon he dropped all direct interrogation, and with +an air of candor told the story of his mission. Lize, +entirely sympathetic, invited him to lunch, and he was +soon in possession of their story, even to the tender relationship +between Lee Virginia and the plague-besieged +forest ranger.</p> +<p>“We’re not so mighty disinterested,” he said, referring +to his paper. “<i>The Round-up</i> represents the New West +in part, but to us the New West means opportunity +to loot water-sites and pile up unearned increment. +Oh yes, we’re on the side of the fruit and alfalfa grower, +because it pays. If the boss of my paper happened to +be in the sheep business, as Senator Blank White is, we +would sing a different tune. Or if I were a Congressman +representing a district of cattle-men, I’d be very +slow about helping to build up any system that would +make me pay for my grass. As it is, I’m commissioned +to make it hot for the ranchers that killed those dagoes, +and I’m going to do it. If this country had a man like +Cavanagh for sheriff, we’d have the murderers in two +days. He knows who the butchers are, and I’d like his +help; but he’s nailed down here, and there’s no hope of +his getting away. A few men like him could civilize this +cursed country.”</p> +<p>Thereupon he drew from three pairs of lips a statement +of the kind of man Ross Cavanagh was, but most significant +of all were the few words of the girl, to whom this +man of the pad and pencil was a magician, capable of +exalting her hero and of advancing light and civilization +by the mere motion of his hand. She liked him, and grew +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +more and more willing to communicate, and he, perceiving +in her something unusual, lingered on questioning. +Then he rose. “I must be going,” he said to Lee. +“You’ve given me a lovely afternoon.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia was all too ignorant of the ways of reporters +to resent his note-taking, and she accepted his +hand, believing him to be the sincere admirer of her +ranger. “What are you going to do?” she asked.</p> +<p>“I’m going back to Sulphur to spread the report of +Cavanagh’s quarantine.” Again that meaning smile. “I +don’t want any other newspaper men mixed up in my +game. I’m lonesome Ned in stunts like this, and I hope +if they <i>do</i> come up you’ll be judiciously silent. Good-bye.”</p> +<p>Soon after the reporter left, Cavanagh called to Swenson: +“The old man can’t last through another such a night +as last night was, and I wish you would persuade Mrs. +Wetherford and her daughter to return to the valley. +They can do nothing here—absolutely <i>nothing</i>. Please +say that.”</p> +<p>Swenson repeated his commands with all the emphasis +he could give them, but neither Lize nor Lee would +consent to go. “It would be heathenish to leave him +alone in this lonesome hole,” protested Lize.</p> +<p>“I shall stay till he is free,” added Lee. And with uneasy +heart she crossed the bridge and walked on and on +toward the cabin till she was close enough to detect the +lines of care on her lover’s haggard face.</p> +<p>“Stop!” he called, sharply. “Keep away. Why don’t +you obey me? Why don’t you go back to the valley?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span></p> +<p>“Because I will not leave you alone—I can’t! Please +let me stay!”</p> +<p>“I beg of you go back.”</p> +<p>The roar of the stream made it necessary to speak +loudly, and he could not put into his voice the tenderness +he felt at the moment, but his face was knotted with pain +as he asked: “Don’t you see you add to my uneasiness—my +pain?”</p> +<p>“We’re so anxious about you,” she answered. “It seems +as though we should be doing something to help you.”</p> +<p>He understood, and was grateful for the tenderness +which brought her so near to him, but he was forced to +be stern.</p> +<p>“There is nothing you can do—nothing more than you +are doing. It helps me to know that you are there, but +you must not cross the bridge. Please go back!” There +was pleading as well as command in his voice, and with a +realization of the passion his voice conveyed, she retraced +her steps, her heart beating quickly with the joy which +his words conveyed.</p> +<p>At sunset Redfield returned, bringing with him medicines +but no nurse. “Nobody will come up here,” he +said. “I reckon Ross is doomed to fight it out alone. +The solitude, the long trail, scares the bravest of them +away. I tried and tried—no use. Eleanor would have +come, of course—demanded to come; but I would not +permit that. She commissioned me to bring you both +down to the ranch.”</p> +<p>Lee Virginia thanked him, but reiterated her wish to +stay until all possible danger to Cavanagh was over. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></p> +<p>Redfield crossed the bridge, and laid the medicines +down outside the door.</p> +<p>“The nurse from Sulphur refused to come when she +found that her patient was in a mountain cabin. I’m +sorry, old man; I did the best I could.”</p> +<p>“Never mind,” replied Cavanagh. “I’m still free +from any touch of fever. I’m tired, of course, but good +for another night of it. My main anxiety concerns Lee—get +her to go home with you if you can.”</p> +<p>“I’ll do the best I can,” responded Redfield, “but +meanwhile you must <i>not</i> think of getting out of the +Forest Service. I have some cheering news for you. +The President has put a good man into the chief’s +place.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh’s face lighted up. “That’ll help some,” he +exclaimed; “but who’s the man?”</p> +<p>Redfield named him. “He was a student under the +chief, and the chief says he’s all right, which satisfies +me. Furthermore, he’s a real forester, and not a +political jobber or a corporation attorney.”</p> +<p>“That’s good,” repeated Cavanagh; “and yet—” he +said, sadly, “it leaves the chief out just the same.”</p> +<p>“No, the chief is not out. He’s where he can fight +for the idea to better advantage than when he was a +subordinate under another man. Anyhow, he asks us +all to line up for the work and not to mind him. The +work, he says, is bigger than any man. Here’s that +resignation of yours,” he said, taking Cavanagh’s letter +from his pocket; “I didn’t put it on file. What shall I +do with it?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span></p> +<p>“Throw it to me,” said Cavanagh, curtly.</p> +<p>Redfield tossed it over the hitching-pole, and Ross +took it up, looked at it for a moment in silence, then tore +it into bits and threw it on the ground.</p> +<p>“What are your orders, Mr. Supervisor?” he asked, +with a faint, quizzical smile around his eyes.</p> +<p>“There’s nothing you can do but take care of this man. +But as soon as you are able to ride again, I’ve got some +special work for you. I want you to join with young +Bingham, the ranger on Rock Creek, and line up the +‘Triangle’ cattle. Murphy is reported to have thrown +on the forest nearly a thousand head more than his +permit calls for. I want you to see about that. Then +complete your maps so that I can turn them in on +the first of November, and about the middle of December +you are to take charge of this forest in my stead. +Eleanor has decided to take the children abroad for a +couple of years, and as I am to be over there part of the +time, I don’t feel justified in holding down the Supervisor’s +position. I shall resign in your favor. Wait, +now!” he called, warningly. “The District Forester +and I framed all this up as we rode down the hill yesterday, +and it goes. Oh yes, there’s one thing more. Old +man Dunn—”</p> +<p>“I know.”</p> +<p>“How did you learn it?”</p> +<p>“A reporter came boiling over the ridge about noon +to-day, wanting me to give him the names which Dunn +had given me. I was strongly tempted to do as he asked +me to—you know these newspaper men are sometimes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +the best kind of detectives for running down criminals; +but on second thought I concluded to wait until I had +discussed the matter with you. I haven’t much faith in +the county authorities.”</p> +<p>“Ordinarily I would have my doubts myself,” replied +Redfield, “but the whole country is roused, and +we’re going to round up these men this time, sure. The +best men and the big papers all over the West are demanding +an exercise of the law, and the reward we have +offered—” He paused, suddenly. “By-the-way, that +reward will come to you if you can bring about the arrest +of the criminals.”</p> +<p>“The reward should go to Dunn’s family,” replied the +ranger, soberly. “Poor chap, he’s sacrificed himself for +the good of the State.”</p> +<p>“That’s true. His family is left in bad shape—”</p> +<p>Cavanagh broke off the conversation suddenly. “I +must go back to—” he had almost said “back to +Wetherford.” “My patient needs me!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“How does he seem?”</p> +<p>“He’s surely dying. In my judgment he can’t last +the night, but so long as he’s conscious it’s up to me to be +on the spot.”</p> +<p>Redfield walked slowly back across the river, thinking +on the patient courage of the ranger.</p> +<p>“It isn’t the obvious kind of thing, but it’s courage all +the same,” he said to himself.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Lize and Virginia, left alone beside the +fire, had drawn closer together.</p> +<p>The girl’s face, so sweet and so pensive, wrought +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +strongly upon the older woman’s sympathy. Something +of her own girlhood came back to her. Being freed from +the town and all its associations, she became more considerate, +more thoughtful. She wished to speak, and +yet she found it very hard to begin. At last she said, +with a touch of mockery in her tone: “You like Ross +Cavanagh almost as well as I do myself, don’t you?”</p> +<p>The girl flushed a little, but her eyes remained steady. +“I would not be here if I did not,” she replied.</p> +<p>“Neither would I. Well, now, I have got something +to tell you—something I ought to have told you long ago—something +that Ross ought to know. I intended to +tell you that first day you came back, but I couldn’t somehow +get to it, and I kept putting it off and putting it off +till—well, then I got fond of you, and every day made it +harder.” Here she made her supreme effort. “Child, +I’m an old bluff. I’m not your mother at all.”</p> +<p>Lee stared at her in amazement. “What do you +mean?” she asked.</p> +<p>“I mean your real mother died when you was a tiny +little babe. You see, I was your father’s second wife; +in fact, you weren’t a year old when we married. Ed +made me promise never to let you know. We were to +bring you up just the same as if you was a child to both +of us. Nobody knows but Reddy. I told him the day +we started up here.”</p> +<p>The girl’s mind ran swiftly over the past as she listened. +The truth of the revelation reached her instantly, explaining +a hundred strange things which had puzzled +her all her life. The absence of deep affection between +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +herself and Lize was explained. Their difference in +habit, temperament, thought—all became plain. “But +my mother!” she said, at last. “Who <i>was</i> my mother?”</p> +<p>“I never saw her. You see, Ed came into the country +bringing you, a little motherless babe. He always said +your mother was a fine woman, but I never so much as +saw a picture of her. She was an educated woman, he +said—a Southern woman—and her name was Virginia, +but that’s about all I can tell you of her. Now, I am +going to let Ross know all of this as soon as I can. It +will make a whole lot of difference in what he thinks of +you.”</p> +<p>She uttered all this much as a man would have done, +with steady voice and with bright eyes, but Lee Virginia +could feel beneath her harsh inflections the deep emotion +which vibrated there, and her heart went out toward the +lonely woman in a new rush of tenderness. Now that +she was released from the necessity of excusing her +mother’s faults—faults she could now ignore; now that +she could look upon her as a loyal friend, she was moved +to pity and to love, and, rising, she went to her and put +her arm about her neck, and said: “This won’t make +any difference. I am going to stay with you and help +you just the same.”</p> +<p>The tears came to the old woman’s eyes, and her voice +broke as she replied: “I knew you would say that, Lee +Virginia, but all the same I don’t intend to have you do +any such thing. You’ve got to cut loose from me altogether, +because some fine chap is going to come along +one of these days, and he won’t want me even as a <i>step</i>-mother-in-law. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +No, I have decided that you and me had +better live apart. I’ll get you a place to live up in Sulphur, +where I can visit you now and again; but I guess I am +elected to stay right here in the Fork. They don’t like +me, and I don’t like them; but I have kind o’ got used to +their ways of looking at me sidewise; they don’t matter +as much as it would up there in the city.”</p> +<p>Lee turned back wistfully toward the story of her +mother. “Where did my mother meet my father? Do +you know that?”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t. It was a runaway match, Ed said. I +never did know who her folks were—only I know they +thought she was marrying the wrong man.”</p> +<p>The girl sighed as her mind took in the significance of +her mother’s coming to this wild country, leaving all that +she knew and loved behind. “Poor little mother. It +must have been very hard for her.”</p> +<p>“I am afraid she did have a hard time, for Ed admitted +to me that he hadn’t so much as a saddle when he landed +in the State. He hadn’t much when I met him first, +but everybody liked him. He was one of the handsomest +men that ever jumped a saddle. But he was close-mouthed. +You never could get anything out of him that +he didn’t want to tell, and I was never able to discover +what he had been doing in the southern part of the +State.”</p> +<p>As she pondered on her changed relationship to Lize, +Lee’s heart lightened. It <i>would</i> make a difference to +Ross. It would make a difference to the Redfields. +Traitorous as it seemed, it was a great relief—a joy—to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +know that her own mother, her real mother, had +been “nice.” “She <i>must</i> have been nice or Lize would +not have said so,” she reasoned, recalling that her stepmother +had admitted her feeling of jealousy.</p> +<p>At last Lize rose. “Well, now, dearie, I reckon we +had better turn in. It is getting chilly and late.”</p> +<p>As they were about to part at the door of the tent +Virginia took Lize’s face between her hands. “Good-night, +mother,” she said, and kissed her, to show her +that what she had said would not make any difference.</p> +<p>But Lize was not deceived. This unwonted caress +made perfectly plain to her the relief which filled the +girl’s heart.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Lee Virginia was awakened some hours later by a +roaring, crackling sound, and by the flare of a yellow +light upon her tent. Peering out, she saw flames shooting +up through the roof of the ranger’s cabin, while beside +it, wrapped in a blanket, calmly contemplating it, stood +Cavanagh with folded arms. A little nearer to the bridge +Redfield was sitting upon an upturned box.</p> +<p>With a cry of alarm she aroused her mother, and +Lize, heavy-eyed, laggard with sleep, rose slowly and +peered out at the scene with eyes of dull amazement. +“Why don’t they try to put it out?” she demanded, as +she took in the import of the passive figures.</p> +<p>Dressing with tremulous haste, Lee stepped from the +tent just in time to see Swenson come from behind the +burning building and join the others in silent contemplation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +of the scene. There was something uncanny in the +calm inaction of the three strong men.</p> +<p>A dense fog hung low, enveloping the whole canon +in a moist, heavy, sulphurous veil, through which the +tongues of flame shot with a grandiose effect; but the +three foresters, whose shadows expanded, contracted, and +wavered grotesquely, remained motionless as carven figures +of ebony. It was as if they were contemplating +an absorbing drama, in whose enactment they had only +the spectator’s curious interest.</p> +<p>Slowly, wonderingly, the girl drew near and called to +Cavanagh, who turned quickly, crying out: “Don’t come +too close, and don’t be frightened. I set the place on +fire myself. The poor old herder died last night, +and is decently buried in the earth, and now we are +burning the cabin and every thread it contains to prevent +the spread of the plague. Hugh and Swenson have +divided their garments with me, and this blanket which +I wear is my only coat. All that I have is in that +cabin now going up in smoke—my guns, pictures, everything.”</p> +<p>“How could you do it?” she cried out, understanding +what his sacrifice had been.</p> +<p>“I couldn’t,” he replied. “The Supervisor did it. +They had to go. The cabin was saturated with poison; +it had become to me a plague spot, and there was no +other way to stamp it out. I should never have felt +safe if I had carried out even so much as a letter.”</p> +<p>Dumb and shivering with the chill of the morning, +Lee Virginia drew nearer, ever nearer. “I am so sorry,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +she said, and yearned toward him, eager to comfort him, +but he warningly motioned her away.</p> +<p>“Please don’t come any nearer, for I dare not touch +you.”</p> +<p>“But you are not ill?” she cried out, with a note of +apprehension in her voice.</p> +<p>He smiled in response to her question. “No, I feel +nothing but weariness and a little depression. I can’t +help feeling somehow as if I were burning up a part of +myself in that fire—the saddle I have ridden for years, +my guns, ropes, spurs, everything relating to the forest, +are gone, and with them my youth. I have been something +of a careless freebooter myself, I fear; but that +is all over with now.” He looked her in the face with +a sad and resolute glance. “The Forest Service made +a man of me, taught me to regard the future. I never +accepted responsibility till I became a ranger, and in +thinking it all over I have decided to stay with it, as +the boys say, ‘till the spring rains.’”</p> +<p>“I am very glad of that,” she said.</p> +<p>“Yes; Dalton thinks I can qualify for the position of +Supervisor, and Redfield may offer me the supervision +of this forest. If he does, I will accept it—if you will go +with me and share the small home which the Supervisor’s +pay provides. Will you go?”</p> +<p>In the light of his burning cabin, and in the shadow +of the great peaks, Lee Virginia could not fail of a certain +largeness and dignity of mood. She neither blushed nor +stammered, as she responded: “I will go anywhere in +the world with you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span></p> +<p>He could not touch so much as the hem of her garment, +but his eyes embraced her, as he said: “God bless you +for the faith you seem to have in me!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Redfield’s voice interrupted with hearty clamor. “And +now, Miss Virginia, you go back and rustle some breakfast +for us all. Swenson, bring the horses in and harness +my team; I’m going to take these women down the +canon. And, Ross, you’d better saddle up as soon as you +feel rested and ride across the divide, and go into camp +in that little old cabin by the dam above my house. +You’ll have to be sequestered for a few days, I reckon, +till we see how you’re coming out. I’ll telephone over +to the Fork and have the place made ready for you, +and I’ll have the doctor go up there to meet you and put +you straight. If you’re going to be sick we’ll want you +where we can look after you. Isn’t that so, Lee Virginia?”</p> +<p>“Indeed it is,” replied the girl, earnestly.</p> +<p>“But I’m not going to be sick,” retorted Cavanagh. +“I refuse to be sick.”</p> +<p>“Quite right,” replied Redfield; “but all the same we +want you where we can get at you, and where medical +aid of the right sort is accessible. I’m going to fetch +my bed over here and put you into it. You need +rest.”</p> +<p>Lee still lingered after Redfield left them. “Please +do as Mr. Redfield tells you,” she pleaded, “for I shall +be very anxious till you get safely down the mountains. +If that poor old man has any relatives they ought to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +told how kind you have been. You could not have been +kinder to one of your own people.”</p> +<p>These words from her had a poignancy of meaning +which made his reply difficult. His tone was designedly +light as he retorted: “I would be a fraud if I stood here +listening to your praise without saying—without confessing—how +deadly weary I got of the whole business. +It was simply that there was nothing else to do. I had +to go on.”</p> +<p>Her mind still dwelt on the tragic event. “I wish he +could have had some kind of a service. It seems sort +of barbarous to bury him without any one to say a prayer +over him. But I suppose that was impossible. Surely +some one ought to mark his grave, for some of his +people may come and want to know where he lies.”</p> +<p>He led her thoughts to pleasanter paths. “I am glad +you are going with the Supervisor. You <i>are</i> going, are +you not?”</p> +<p>“Yes, for a few days, till I’m sure you’re safe.”</p> +<p>“I shall be tempted to pretend being sick just to keep you +near me,” he was saying, when Redfield returned, bringing +his sleeping-couch. Unrolling this under a tree beside +the creek, the Supervisor said: “Now, get into that.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh resigned Lee with a smile. “Good-night,” +he said. “Oh, but it’s good to remember that I shall +see you to-morrow!”</p> +<p>With a happy glance and a low “Good-bye” she turned +away.</p> +<p>Laying aside his blanket and his shoes, Cavanagh crept +into the snug little camp-bed. “Ah,” he breathed, with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +a delicious sense of relief, “I feel as if I could sleep a +week!” And in an instant his eyes closed in slumber so +profound that it was barren even of dreams.</p> +<p>When he awoke it was noon, and Swenson, the guard, +was standing over him. “I’m sorry, but it’s time to be +moving,” he said; “it’s a long ride over there.”</p> +<p>“What time is it?” inquired Cavanagh, with some bewilderment.</p> +<p>“Nearly noon. I’ve got some coffee ready. Want +some?”</p> +<p>“Do I? Just watch me!” And he scrambled out of +his bed with vigor, and stretched himself like a cat, exclaiming: +“Wow! but it does feel good to know that I am +out of jail!”</p> +<p>Going down to the stream, he splashed his face and +neck in the clear cold water, and the brisk rubbing which +followed seemed to clear his thought as well as sharpen +his appetite.</p> +<p>“You seem all right so far,” hazarded the guide.</p> +<p>“I am all right, and I’ll be all right to-morrow, if that’s +what you mean,” replied Cavanagh. “Well, now, pack +up, and we’ll pull out.”</p> +<p>For a few moments after he mounted his horse Cavanagh +looked about the place as if for the last time—now +up at the hill, now down at the meadow, and last of all +at the stream. “I hope you’ll enjoy this station as much +as I have, Swenson. It’s one of the prettiest on the whole +forest.”</p> +<p>Together they zigzagged up the side of the hill to the +north, and then with Cavanagh in the lead (followed by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +his pack-horse), they set up the long lateral moraine which +led by a wide circle through the wooded park toward the +pass. The weather was clear and cold. The wind bit, +and Cavanagh, scantily clothed as he was, drew his +robe close about his neck, saying: “I know now how it +feels to be a blanket Indian. I must say I prefer an +overcoat.”</p> +<p>A little later the keen eyes of the guard, sweeping the +mountain-side, were suddenly arrested. “There’s a +bunch of cowboys coming over the pass!” he called.</p> +<p>“I see them,” responded Cavanagh. “Get out your +glasses and tell me who they are.”</p> +<p>Swenson unslung his field-glasses and studied the party +attentively. “Looks like Van Horne’s sorrel in the lead, +and that bald-face bay just behind looks like the one +Gregg rides. The other two I don’t seem to know.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps it’s the sheriff after me for harboring +Edwards,” suggested Cavanagh.</p> +<p>But Swenson remained sober. He did not see the +humor of the remark. “What are they doing on the +forest, anyhow?” he asked.</p> +<p>Half an hour later the two parties came face to face on +a little stretch of prairie in the midst of the wooded +valley. There were four in the sheriff’s party: Gregg, +the deputy, and a big man who was a stranger to Cavanagh. +Their horses were all tired, and the big civilian +looked saddle-weary.</p> +<p>“Good evenin’, gentlemen!” called the sheriff, in +Southern fashion, as he drew near.</p> +<p>“Good evenin’, Mr. Sheriff,” Cavanagh civilly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +answered. “What’s the meaning of this invasion of my +forest?”</p> +<p>The sheriff, for answer, presented the big stranger. +“Mr. Cavanagh, this is Mr. Simpson, the county attorney.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh nodded to the attorney. “I’ve heard of Mr. +Simpson,” he said.</p> +<p>Simpson answered the question Ross had asked. “We +were on our way to your station, Mr. Cavanagh, because +we understand that this old man Dunn who shot himself +had visited you before his death, giving you information +concerning the killing of the Mexican sheep-herders. +Is that true?”</p> +<p>“It is.”</p> +<p>“When did he visit you?”</p> +<p>“Two days ago, or maybe three. I am a little mixed +about it. You see, I have been pretty closely confined +to my shack for a few days.”</p> +<p>Gregg threw in a query. “How <i>is</i> the old man?”</p> +<p>“He’s all right; that is to say, he’s dead. Died +last night.”</p> +<p>The sheriff looked at Simpson meaningly. “Well, +I reckon that settles his score, judge. Even if he was +implicated, he’s out of it now.”</p> +<p>“He couldn’t have been implicated,” declared the +ranger, “for he was with me at the time the murder was +committed. I left him high on the mountain in the +Basque herder’s camp. I can prove an alibi for him. +Furthermore, he had no motive for such work.”</p> +<p>“What did Dunn tell you?” demanded the sheriff. +“What names did he give you?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span></p> +<p>“Wait a moment,” replied Cavanagh, who felt himself +to be on his own territory, and not to be hurried. +“There’s a reward offered for the arrest of these men, is +there not?”</p> +<p>“There is,” replied the attorney.</p> +<p>“Well, before I make my statement I’d like to request +that my share of the reward, if there is any coming to +me, shall be paid over to the widow of the man who gave +me the information. Poor chap, he sacrificed himself +for the good of the State, and his family should be spared +all the suffering possible.”</p> +<p>“Quite right, Mr. Cavanagh. You may consider that +request granted. Now for the facts.”</p> +<p>“Before going into that, Mr. Attorney, I’d like to speak +to you alone.”</p> +<p>“Very well, sir,” replied the attorney. Then waving +his hand toward the others, he said: “Boys, just ride off a +little piece, will you?”</p> +<p>When they were alone, Cavanagh remarked: “I don’t +think it wise to give these names to the wind, for if we +do, there will be more fugitives.”</p> +<p>“I see your point,” Simpson agreed.</p> +<p>Thereupon, rapidly and concisely, the ranger reported +what Dunn had said, and the attorney listened thoughtfully +without speaking to the end; then he added: “That +tallies with what we have got from Ballard.”</p> +<p>“Was Ballard in it?” asked Cavanagh.</p> +<p>“Yes, we forced a confession from him.”</p> +<p>“If he was in it, it was merely for the pay. He represented +some one else.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span></p> +<p>“What makes you think that?”</p> +<p>“Because he was crazy to return to the show with +which he used to perform, and desperately in need of +money. Have you thought that Gregg might have had +a hand in this affair? Dunn said he had, although he +was not present at any of the meetings.”</p> +<p>This seemed to surprise the attorney very much. “But +he’s a sheepman!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“I know he is; but he’s also a silent partner in the +Triangle cattle outfit, and is making us a lot of trouble. +And, besides, he had it in for these dagoes, as he calls +them, because they were sheeping territory which he +wanted himself.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think he’s any too good for it,” responded +Simpson, “but I doubt if he had any hand in the killing; +he’s too cunning and too cowardly. But I’ll keep in mind +what you have said, and if he is involved in any degree, +he’ll have to go down the road with the others—his money +can’t save him.”</p> +<p>As they came back to the party Cavanagh thought he +detected in Gregg’s eyes a shifting light that was not there +before, but he made no further attempt to impress his +opinion upon the attorney or the sheriff. He only said: +“Well, now, gentlemen, I must go on over the divide. +I have an appointment with the doctor over there; also +with a bed and a warmer suit of clothes than I have on. +If I can be of any service to you when I am out of quarantine, +I hope you will call upon me.”</p> +<p>“It is possible that we may need you in order to locate +some of the men whose names you have given me.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span></p> +<p>“Very good,” replied Cavanagh. “If they come upon +the forest anywhere, the Supervisor and I will find them +for you.”</p> +<p>So they parted, and Cavanagh and his guard resumed +their slow journey across the range.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CONCLUSION' id='CONCLUSION'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +<h3>CONCLUSION</h3> +</div> + +<p>In her career as the wife of a Western rancher, Eleanor +Redfield had been called upon to entertain many strange +guests, and she made no very determined objection when +her husband telephoned that he was bringing Lize as well +as Lee Virginia to stay at Elk Lodge for a few days. The +revelation of the true relation between the two women +had (as Lize put it) made a “whole lot of difference” to +Mrs. Redfield. It naturally cleared the daughter of some +part of her handicap, and it had also made the mother’s +attitude less objectionable.</p> +<p>Furthermore, the loyalty of Eliza to Ross, her bravery +in defending him from attack, and the love and +courage which enabled her to rise from a sick-bed and go +to the mountains, ready and insistent on taking his place +as nurse—all these were not the traits of a commonplace +personality. “I begin to think I’ve been unjust to Mrs. +Wetherford,” she admitted to her husband.</p> +<p>She had seen Lize but once, and that was in the distorting +atmosphere of the restaurant, and she remembered +her only as a lumpy, scowling, loud-voiced creature +with blowsy hair and a watchful eye. She was profoundly +surprised, therefore, when Lee Virginia introduced a +quiet-spoken, rather sad-faced elderly woman as her +mother. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span></p> +<p>“I’m glad to see you, Mrs. Wetherford,” Eleanor said, +with the courtesy which was instinctive with her.</p> +<p>“I’m mightily obliged for the chance to come,” replied +Lize. “I told Reddy—I mean the Supervisor—that you +didn’t want no old-timer like me, but he said ‘Come +along,’ and Lee she fixed me out, and here I am.” She +uttered this with a touch of her well-known self-depreciation, +but she was by no interpretation sordid or +common.</p> +<p>She did, indeed, show Lee’s care, and her manner, while +manifestly formed upon Lee’s instructions, was never +ludicrous. She was frankly curious about the house and +its pretty things, and swore softly in her surprise and +pleasure. “Think of an old cow-boss like me living up +to these jimmy-cracks!” As they went to their room together, +she made a confession: “The thing that scares +me worst is <i>eating</i>. I’ve et at the Alma times enough, +but to handle a fork here with El’nor Redfield lookin’ on! +Great peter! ain’t there some way of takin’ my meals out +in the barn? I wouldn’t mind you and Ross and Reddy—it’s +the missis.”</p> +<p>Ross had not yet arrived at the cabin, but Redfield had +warned Lee not to expect him till after dark. “He +probably slept late, and, besides, there are always delays +on the trail. But don’t worry. Swenson will ride to the +top of the divide with him, and if it seems necessary will +come all the way.”</p> +<p>This feeling of anxiety helped to steady Lize, and she +got through the meal very well. She was unwontedly +silent, and a little sad as well as constrained. She could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +see that Lee fitted in with these surroundings, that she +was at home with shining silver and dainty dishes, and +she said to herself: “I could have been something like +her if I’d had any sort o’ raisin’, but it’s too late now. +But oh, Lord! wouldn’t Ed like to see her now!”</p> +<p>It was not yet dark when they came out on the veranda +to meet the doctor, who had come to meet Ross, and +Lee’s anxiety led her to say: “Can’t we go up to the cabin +and wait for him there?”</p> +<p>“I was about to propose that,” replied Redfield. +“Shall we walk?”</p> +<p>Lee was instant in her desire to be off, but Lize said: +“I never was much on foot and now I’m hoof-bound. +You go along, and I’ll sit on the porch here and watch.”</p> +<p>So Lee, the doctor, and Redfield went off together +across the meadow toward the little cabin which had +been built for the workmen while putting in the dam. +It was hardly a mile away, and yet it stood at the mouth +of a mighty gorge, out of which the water sprang white +with speed.</p> +<p>But Lee had no mind for the scenery, though her eyes +were lifted to the meadow’s wall, down which the ranger +was expected to ride. It looked frightfully steep, and +whenever she thought of him descending that trail, worn +and perhaps ill, her heart ached with anxiety. But +Redfield rambled on comfortably, explaining the situation +to the doctor, who, being a most unimaginative +person, appeared to take it all as a matter of course.</p> +<p>At the cabin itself Lee transferred her interest to the +supper which had been prepared for the ranger, and she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +went about the room trying to make it a little more comfortable +for him. It was a bare little place, hardly more +than a camp (as was proper), and she devoutly prayed +that he was not to be sick therein, for it stood in a cold and +gloomy place, close under the shadow of a great wall of +rock.</p> +<p>As it grew dark she lighted a lamp and placed it outside +the window in order that its light might catch the ranger’s +eye, and this indeed it did, for almost instantly a pistol-shot +echoed from the hillside, far above, signalling his +approach.</p> +<p>“There he is!” she exclaimed, in swift rebound to +ecstasy. “Hear him shout?”</p> +<p>His voice could indeed be heard, though faintly, and +so they waited while the darkness deepened and the voice +of the stream rose like an exhalation, increasing in +violence as the night fell.</p> +<p>At last they could hear the sound of his horse’s feet +upon the rocks, and with girlish impulse Lee raised a +musical cry—an invitation as well as a joyous signal.</p> +<p>To this the ranger made vocal answer, and they could +soon see him moving athwart the hillsides, zigzagging in +the trailer’s fashion, dropping down with incredible +swiftness. He was alone, and leading his horse, but his +celerity of movement and the tones of his voice denoted +confidence and health.</p> +<p>The doctor laughed as he said: “I don’t think a very +sick man could come down a mountain like that.”</p> +<p>“Oh, he isn’t sick yet,” said Redfield. “What we are +afraid of is a possible development.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span></p> +<p>The ranger, as he came rushing down the final slope, +found his knees weakened as much by excitement as by +weariness. To hear Lee’s clear voice down there, to +know that she was waiting for him, was to feel himself the +luckiest of men. Escaping contagion and being on his +way to a larger position were as nothing compared to the +lure of that girlish halloo. He saw the lamp shine afar, +but he could not distinguish the girl’s form till he +emerged from the clump of pine-trees which hid the +bottom of the trail. Then they all shouted together, and +Redfield, turning to Lee, warningly said:</p> +<p>“Now, my dear girl, you and I must not interfere with +the doctor. We will start back to the house at once.”</p> +<p>“Not yet—not till we’ve seen him and talked with +him,” she pleaded.</p> +<p>“I don’t think there’s a particle of danger,” said the +doctor, “but perhaps you’d better not wait.”</p> +<p>Cavanagh came up with shining eyes and heavy breath. +“I made it—but oh, I’m tired! I never was tired like +this before in my life.” He looked at her as he spoke. +“But I’m feeling fine.”</p> +<p>“This is Doctor French, Ross.”</p> +<p>“How are you doctor? I’m not shaking hands these +days.”</p> +<p>“Well see about that,” replied the physician.</p> +<p>“I met the sheriff on the way, Mr. Supervisor, and I gave +him the story Dunn told me, and I made a request that +the reward for the information be paid to Dunn’s widow.”</p> +<p>“I’ll see to that,” responded Redfield. “And now +we’ll leave you to the tender mercies of the doctor.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span></p> +<p>“I made some coffee for you, and you’ll find some +supper under a napkin on the table,” explained Lee.</p> +<p>“Thank you.”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry it isn’t better. It’s only cold chicken and +sandwiches—”</p> +<p>“Only cold chicken!” he laughed. “My chief anxiety +is lest it should not prove a whole chicken. I’m hungry +as a coyote!”</p> +<p>“Well, now, good-night,” said Redfield. “Doctor, +you’ll report as you go by?”</p> +<p>“Yes; expect me in half an hour or so.”</p> +<p>And so Lee walked away with Redfield, almost entirely +relieved of her care. “He can’t be ill, can he?” +she asked.</p> +<p>“I don’t see how he can. His life has made him as +clean and strong as an oak-tree on a windy slope. He is +all right, and very happy. Your being there to meet +him was very sweet to him, I could see that. If it should +turn out that you should be the one to keep him here and +in the Forest Service I shall be very grateful to you.”</p> +<p>She did not reply to this, but walked along in silence +by his side, feeling very small, very humble, but very +content.</p> +<p>Lize was on the veranda. “Did he get through?”</p> +<p>“He’s all right so far,” returned Redfield, cheerily. +“We left the doctor about to fly at him. We’ll have a +report soon.”</p> +<p>They had hardly finished telling of how the ranger +had descended the hill when the doctor arrived. “He +hasn’t a trace of it,” was his report. “All he needs is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span> +sleep. I cut him off from his entire over-the-range outfit, +and there’s no reason why he should not come down to +breakfast with you in the morning.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Redfield thanked the doctor as fervently as if he +had conferred a personal favor upon her, and the girl +echoed her grateful words.</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s all right,” the doctor replied, in true +Western fashion; “I’ll do as much more for you any +time.” And he rode away, leaving at least one person +too happy to sleep.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>The same person was on the veranda next morning +when Cavanagh, dressed in the Supervisor’s best suit of +gray cassimere, came striding across the lawn—too impatient +of the winding drive to follow it. As he came, +his face glowing with recovered health, Lee thought +him the god of the morning, and went to meet him +unashamed, and he took her to his arms and kissed her +quite as he had promised himself to do.</p> +<p>“Now I <i>know</i> that I am delivered!” he exclaimed, +and together they entered upon the building of a home +in the New West.</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' margin-top:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>THE END</p> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppgen.rb version: 2.18 --> +<!-- timestamp: Sat Aug 09 03:13:30 -0600 2008 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Cavanagh: Forest Ranger, by Hamlin Garland + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAVANAGH: FOREST RANGER *** + +***** This file should be named 26244-h.htm or 26244-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/2/4/26244/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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. 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