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diff --git a/26244.txt b/26244.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f9f1ff --- /dev/null +++ b/26244.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9236 @@ +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: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAVANAGH: FOREST RANGER *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: THE RANGER] + +------------------------------------------------------------------------- + +CAVANAGH +FOREST RANGER + +A Romance +Of The Mountain West + +By +HAMLIN GARLAND + +Author Of +"The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop" +"Main-Travelled Roads" Etc. + +HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS +New York and London +MCMX + +------------------------------------------------------------------------- + +Books by +HAMLIN GARLAND + +Cavanagh--Forest Ranger Post 8vo $1.50 +The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop. Post 8vo 1.50 +Hesper Post 8vo 1.50 +Money Magic. Ill'd Post 8vo 1.50 +The Light of the Star. Ill'd Post 8vo 1.50 +The Tyranny of the Dark. Ill'd. Post 8vo 1.50 +The Shadow World Post 8vo 1.35 +Main-Travelled Roads Post 8vo 1.50 +Prairie Folks Post 8vo 1.50 +Rose of Dutcher's Coolly Post 8vo 1.50 +The Moccasin Ranch. Ill'd Post 8vo 1.00 +Trail of the Gold-Seekers Post 8vo 1.50 +The Long Trail. Ill'd Post 8vo 1.25 +Boy Life on the Prairie. Ill'd Post 8vo 1.50 + (In Boys' and Girls' Library) .75 + +HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, N. Y. + +Copyright, 1910, by Hamlin Garland + +All rights reserved + +Published March, 1910 + +Printed in the United States of America + +------------------------------------------------------------------------- + +TO THE FOREST RANGER + +WHOSE LONELY VIGIL ON +THE HEIGHTS SAFEGUARDS +THE PUBLIC HERITAGE + +------------------------------------------------------------------------- + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER PAGE + I. The Desert Chariot 1 + II. The Forest Ranger 20 + III. Lee Virginia Wages War 35 + IV. Virginia Takes Another Motor Ride 57 + V. Two On the Veranda 80 + VI. The Voice from the Heights 97 + VII. The Poachers 115 + VIII. The Second Attack 132 + IX. The Old Sheep-Herder 149 + X. The Smoke of the Burning 173 + XI. Shadows on the Mist 187 + XII. Cavanagh's Last Vigil Begins 217 + XIII. Cavanagh Asks for Help 230 + XIV. The Pest-House 247 + XV. Wetherford Passes On 265 + Conclusion 295 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------- + +INTRODUCTION + +My Dear Mr. Garland:--You have been kind enough to let me see the proofs +of _Cavanagh: Forest Ranger_. 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). + +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. + +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. + +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. + + Very sincerely yours, + Gifford Pinchot. + + March 14, 1910. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------- + +Cavanagh: Forest Ranger + +------------------------------------------------------------------------- + + + + +Cavanagh: Forest Ranger + +I + +THE DESERT CHARIOT + + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Yes," she replied, curtly, "I am." + +Something in her tone discouraged him from further inquiry, and he soon +dropped away. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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." + +Lee began to wonder if she should find the Fork much changed--her mother +was a bad correspondent. + +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 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." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +Lee Virginia, crimson and burning hot, was in agony lest they should go +further in their criticism. + +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. + +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 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." + +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' _you_." + +"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." + +Lee Virginia wondered about all this supervision, for it was new to her. + +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." + +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. + +The old woman chuckled: "'Pears like you've changed your tune since '98, +Sam." + +He admitted his conversion shamelessly. "I'm for 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." + +"You're going to get thrown off altogether one of these days," said the +young man on the back seat. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 Cafe." On the sidewalk a group of Indians +were sitting, and a half-dozen slouching white men stood waiting at the +door. + +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. + +"Allow me, miss," he said, with the smile of a wolf. + +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. + +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. + +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 cafe. 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?" + +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?" + +The boarders stopped chewing and stared in absorbed interest, while +Virginia kissed her blowsy mother. + +"By the Lord, it's little Virginny!" said one old fellow. "It's her +daughter." + +Upon this a mutter of astonishment arose, and the waiter-girls, giggling, +marvelling, and envious, paused, 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. + +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." + +She gave her hand hesitatingly. "It's Mr. Sifton, isn't it?" + +"It is," he replied; "the same old ha'penny, only a little more +worn--worn, not polished," he added, with a smile. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Lize looked at her daughter critically. "I don't know 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." + +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." + +"You wrote they was willing to keep you." + +"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." + +"I am; but I didn't want you to come back. Lay off your things and come +out to supper. We'll talk afterward." + +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 luxurious, but because it +was exquisitely in order, and sweet with flowers and dainty arrangement of +color. + +She understood now the final warnings uttered by her friends. "You will +find everything changed," they had said, "because you are changed." + +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. + +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! + +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!" + +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 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. + +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. + +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!" + +With desperate effort Lee conquered her disgust. "Never mind, I'm tired +and a little upset. I don't need any dinner." + +"The slob will go, just the same. I've put up with her because help is +scarce, but here's where she gits off!" + +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 her despair and shame. "Oh, +I can't stand it," she called. "I can't! I can't!" + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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." + +"I've come back to help you, mother. You must let me relieve you of some +of the burden." + +"What can you do, child?" Lize asked, gently. + +"I can teach." + +"Not in this town you can't." + +"Why not?" + +"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." + +This daunted the girl more than she could express, but she bravely made +advance. "But there must be other schools in the country." + +"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." + +Lee Virginia remembered Gregg's charge against her mother. "What do you +mean by the prejudice against you?" she asked. + +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." + +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." + +"Neither do I, child--I mean I don't know exactly. You see, after that +cattle-war, he went away to Texas." + +"I remember, but it's all very dim." + +"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." + +"Didn't you know the name of the town?" + +"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." + +Lee sighed hopelessly. "I hate to think of him lying neglected down +there." + +"'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." + +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. + +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 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!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +II + +THE FOREST RANGER + + +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 _will_ not!" + +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. + +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 coffee +with bent heads; their faces scared her, and she dropped her eyes. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +She accepted their civilities with gratitude, and listened 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. + +"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." + +"You're getting finicky," laughed the younger man. + +"I'm getting old. Time was when my fell of hair would rise at nothing, not +even flies in the butter, but now--" + +"That last visit to the ancestral acres is what did it." + +"No, it's age--age and prosperity. I know now what it is to have broiled +steak." + +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." + +Lee flushed under this introduction, and her distress was so evident that +both men came to her rescue. + +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." + +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." + +"So much the worse for us," replied Redfield. + +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. + +"When did you reach town?" he asked, and into his voice his admiration +crept. + +"Only last night." + +"You find great changes here?" + +"Not so great as in my mother. It's all----" She stopped abruptly, and he +understood. + +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." + +"Did you?" Her face lighted up. + +"Yes, poor fellow, he went away from here rather under a cloud, you +know." + +"I remember a little of it. I was here when the shooting took place." + +"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 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." + +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? + +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. + +Redfield went on. "You find us horribly uncivilized after ten years' +absence?" + +"I find _this_ 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!" + +"I understand your repulsion," replied Redfield. "A thousand times I +repeat, apropos of this country, 'Where every prospect pleases and only +man is vile.'" + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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!" + +Lize tapped Redfield on the shoulder. "Come over here, Reddy, if you've +finished your breakfast; I want to talk with you." + +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: + +"How _can_ you endure this kind of life?" + +"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." + +"Are all the other restaurants in the village like this?" + +"Worse. I come here because it is the best." + +She rose. "I can't stand this air and these flies any longer. They're too +disgusting." + +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. + +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. + +"Let us go out into the air," he suggested, presently. "The mountain wind +will do you good." + +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. + +"The air is clean, anyway," she said. + +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." + +She did not speak, but as she studied the ranger her face cleared. "It +_is_ beautiful up there." + +He went on. "I hate all this scrap-heap quite as heartily 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." + +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?" + +"I hoped to teach," she replied, her voice still choked with her emotion. +"I expected to find the country much improved." + +"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." + +"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!" + +She faced him resolutely, and perceiving that she could not be evaded, he +made slow answer. "I don't _know_ that she does, but I've heard it charged +against her." + +"Who made the charge?" + +"One of the clergymen, and then it's common talk among the rough men of +the town." + +"Is that the worst they say of her? Be honest with me--I want to know the +worst." + +He was quite decisive as he said: "Yes, that is the worst." + +She looked relieved. "I'm glad to hear you say so. I've been imagining all +kinds of terrifying things." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +She perceived in the ranger the man of the new order, and with this in her +mind she said: "You don't belong here? You're not a Western man." + +"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." + +She glanced at his badge. "How did you come to be a ranger--what does it +mean? It's all new to me." + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +"And that is your badge--the pine-tree?" + +"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. I never mark one for felling without a sense of +responsibility to the future." + +Her questions came slowly, like those of a child. "Where do you live?" + +"Directly up the South Fork, about twenty miles." + +"What do you do?" + +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." + +"Do you live alone?" + +"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." + +They were both more at ease now, and her unaffected interest pleased him. + +She went on, steadily: "Don't you get very lonely?" + +"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." + +"Who cooks for you?" + +"I do. That's part of a ranger's job. We have no 'servant problem' to +contend with." + +"Do you expect to do this always?" + +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 of forestry is in demand; by and by real foresters will arise." + +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. + +"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." + +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." + +"Where would you go if you broke camp--back to the East?" + +"No; my mother thinks there is a place for me in Sulphur City." + +"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." + +"Where does she live?" + +"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." + +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 him, except as it bore upon his companion's position in +the town. + +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: + +"I want to see you before you leave town, Mr. Ranger." + +"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?" + +"If you will. I want to do right--indeed I do." + +"I'm sure of that," he said, with eyes upon her flushed and quivering +face. "There's a way out, believe me." + +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. + +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 is one of the things that must be reformed," she decided, harking +back to the ranger's quiet remark. + +She was still pondering ways and means of making the room habitable when +her mother came in. + +"How'd you sleep last night?" + +Lee Virginia could not bring herself to lie. "Not very well," she +admitted. + +"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." + +"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. + +"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 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 _did_ 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." + +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. + + + + +III + +LEE VIRGINIA WAGES WAR + + +IN 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. + +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!" + +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. + +The girl rose. "Yes." + +"Well, howdy!" She extended her hand, and Lee took it. "My name's +Jackson--Mrs. Orlando Jackson. I knew yore pa and you before 'the war.'" + +Lee Virginia dimly recalled such a family, and asked: "Where do you +live?" + +"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?" + +"No, I don't think so. Will you sit down?" + +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." + +Virginia started. "What makes you think so?" + +"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 about broke her up in business when Ed hit the far-away trail." + +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. + +"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." + +"What do you mean by 'the war'?" + +"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." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Virginia. "I understand now. Yes, I was here. I saw my +father at the head of the cowboys." + +"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 _son_ 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_ 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 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." + +Lee Virginia started. "Who says he's alive?" + +"Now don't get excited, girl. He ain't alive; but yet folks say we don't +_know_ 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." + +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." + +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 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." + +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. + +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. + +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 horror. How monstrous, how impossible those killings now seemed! + +Then her mind came back to her mother's ailment. Eliza Wetherford had +never been one to complain, and her groans meant real suffering. + +Her mind resolved upon one thing. "She must see a doctor," she decided. +And with this in mind she reentered the cafe, where Lize was again in +violent altercation with a waitress. + +"Mother," called Lee, "I want to see you." + +With a parting volley of vituperation, Mrs. Wetherford followed her +daughter back into the lodging-house. + +"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." + +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." + +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." + +Eliza eyed her curiously. "Don't you go to countin' on this 'chivalry of +the West' which story-writers put into 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." + +"But you need a doctor this minute." + +"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." + +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?" + +"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?" + +Virginia flushed. "Yes." + +Eliza's face fell. "I was afraid of that. You can't keep 'em out. The +cowboys bring 'em in by the quart." + +"They can be destroyed--and the flies, too, can't they?" + +"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 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." + +"I can't leave you now, mother. Now that I know you're ill, I'm going to +stay and take care of you." + +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." + +"But I'm your daughter!" + +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." + +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? + +The knowledge that she must spend another night in the bed led her to +active measures of reform. With disgustful 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. + +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. + +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. + +"How's this?" queried Cavanagh, humorously. "Has the place 'changed +hands?'" + +Lize was but grimly responsive. "Seem's like it has." + +"I hope the price has not gone up?" + +"Not yet." + +Redfield asked: "Who's responsible for this--your new daughter?" + +"You've hit it. She's started right in to polish us all up to city +standards." + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +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." + +Lee Virginia came in flushed and self-conscious, but far lighter of spirit +than at breakfast; and stood beside the table while the waitress _laid_ +the dishes before her guests with elaborate assumption of grace and +design. Hitherto she had bumped them down with a slash of slangy comment. +The change was quite as wonderful as the absence of the flies. + +"Do we owe these happy reforms to you?" asked Cavanagh, admiring +Virginia's neat dress and glowing cheeks. + +"Partly," she answered. "I was desperate. I had to do something, so I took +to ordering people around." + +"I understand," he said. "Won't you sit at our table again?" + +"Please do," said Redfield. "I want to talk with you." + +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." + +"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." + +"It can't last," Lize interjected. "She'll catch the Western +habits--she'll sag, same as we all do." + +"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." + +"When do you go back to the mountains?" Lee Virginia asked, a little +later. + +"Immediately after my luncheon," he replied. + +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." + +Redfield overheard this, and turned toward her. + +"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." + +"I should like to do so," she said, touched by the tone as well as by the +words of his invitation. + +"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." + +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." + +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." + +"What do you mean by the New West?" asked the girl. + +"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 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." + +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." + +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! + +Some one at the table accused Redfield of being more of a town-site boomer +than a cattle-man. + +He was quite unmoved by this charge. "The town-site boomer at least +believes in progress. He does not 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 _is_ 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." + +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." + +This was a centre shot. Redfield flushed, and Cavanagh laughed. "Mr. +Supervisor, you are discovered!" + +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.'" + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Virginia's eyes fell before the gaze of these two men, 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. + +Redfield did not soften his words on Gregg's account; on the contrary he +made them still more cutting and to the line. + +"The mere fact that I live near the open range or a national forest does +not give me any _rights_ in the range or forest," he was saying, as Gregg +took his seat. "I enjoy the _privilege_ 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." + +"After you've got rich at it," said Gregg. + +"Well, haven't you?" retorted Redfield. "Are you so greedy that nothing +will stop you?" + +Lize threw in a wise word. "The sporting-houses of Kansas City and Chicago +keep old Sam poor." + +A roar of laughter followed this remark, and Gregg was stumped for a +moment; but the son grinned appreciatively. "Now be good!" + +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." + +Gregg growled out: "I'm not letting any of my rights slip." + +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. + +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?" + +Gregg looked ugly. "I'm not done with this business." + +She turned to Ross. "Don't let him scare you--his beller is a whole lot +worse than his bite." + +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." + +"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." + +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 cup): "I always thought sheepmen were blankety blank sons of guns, +and now I'm one of 'em I _know_ 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. + +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. + +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 +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." + +Gregg was silenced, but not convinced. "It's a long lane that has no +turn," he growled. + +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." + +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." + +Gregg burst out: "You think you're the whole United States army! Who gives +you all the authority?" + +"Congress and the President." + +"There's nothing in that bill to warrant these petty tyrannies of yours." + +"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." + +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. + +Gregg sneered. "Perhaps you intend to run for Congress on that line of +talk." + +Redfield's voice was placid. "At any rate, I intend to represent the +policy that will change this State from the 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." + +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. + +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. + +Cavanagh rose. "I must be going," he said, with a smile. + +Again the pang of loss touched her heart. "When will you come again?" she +asked, in a low voice. + +"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." + +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--" + +"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, 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." + +"I've been working all the morning to make this room decent. It was rather +fun. Don't you think it helped?" + +"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!" + +She watched him go with a feeling of pain--as if in his going she were +losing her best friend and most valiant protector. + + + + +IV + +VIRGINIA TAKES ANOTHER MOTOR RIDE + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Lee Virginia was fully aware of this male curiosity, 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 _now_," she +declared, bitterly. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He had lost his engagement by reason of a drunken brawl, and he was now +living with his sister, the wife of 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. + +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. + +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? + +There came to her, now and again, gentle old ranchers--"grangers," they +would be called--and shy boys from 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. + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +"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 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." + +She looked yellow and drawn as she ended, and Redfield was moved by her +unwonted tenderness. + +"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." + +"All right, but before you go I want to have a private talk--I want to +tell you something." + +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." + +"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." + +"I don't want to hear _that_ either," he declared. "Let bygones be +bygones. What you did then is outlawed, anyway. Those were fierce times, +and I want to forget them." He looked about. "Let me see this Miss +Virginia and convey to her Mrs. Redfield's invitation." + +"She's in the kitchen, I reckon. Go right out." + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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 afternoon, and +to-morrow we'll fetch the doctor down to see your mother. What do you say +to that?" + +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." + +"I've talked with her; she is anxious to have you go." + +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." + +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." + +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. + +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 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." + +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." + +"He told me that he hoped to be Chief Forester," protested Virginia. + +"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." + +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 it was to admire +the color and poise of his seat-mate, who made the landscape of small +account. + +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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +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 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?" + +"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." + +"What was it all about? I never understood it. What were they fighting +about?" + +"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 +_rights_ 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 most competent grazers; furthermore, we were in possession, +and no man could come in without our consent. + +"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?" + +"Yes, I remember that. It belongs to the man who finds him, and brands +him." + +"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?'" + +Lee Virginia looked up brightly. "That seems right to me!" + +"Ah yes; but wait. We cattle-men had large herds, and the _probabilities_ +were that the calf belonged to some one of us; whereas, the cowboy, having +no herd at all, _knew_ 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 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." + +"But surely my father had nothing to do with this?" + +"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." + +"I remember him." + +"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 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.'" + +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. + +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." + +"I wish he hadn't done that," murmured the girl. + +"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 own men into office. This last was silly rot to +me, but the people believed it." + +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." + +"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." + +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 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." + +"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." + +"How did it all end? The soldiers came, didn't they?" + +"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." + +"I saw that. It was very strange--that sergeant was so young and so +brave." + +He turned and smiled at her. "Do you know who that was?" + +Her eyes flashed. She drew her breath with a gasp. "Was it Mr. Cavanagh?" + +"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 power of +the 'nester' has steadily increased from that moment." + +"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?" + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +The girl fell silent again, her mind filled with larger 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. + +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. + +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?" + +"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." + +"Much depends upon the doctor's examination to-morrow." + +They had topped the divide now between the Fork 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. + +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. + +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. + +Redfield slowed down, and scrambled ungracefully 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. + +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. + +"Are you tired? would you like to lie down before dinner?" she asked. + +"Oh no, indeed. Nothing ever tires me," Virginia responded, with a smile. + +"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." + +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. + +"We dine at seven," Mrs. Redfield was saying, "so you can take a cup of +tea without spoiling your dinner. Will you venture it?" + +"If you please." + +"Very well; come down soon, and I'll have it ready. Mr. Redfield, I'm +sure, will want some." + +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. + +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." + +"I hope, Hugh, you were not in one of your talking moods?" + +"I was, Eleanor. I talked incessantly, barring an occasional jolt of the +machine." + +"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." + +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?" + +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. + +At last she said: "We dress for dinner, but any frock 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.'" + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +"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. + +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. + +At last she dared wait no longer, and taking courage from necessity, +descended the stairs--a pleasant picture of vigorous yet somewhat subdued +maidenhood. + + + + +V + +TWO ON THE VERANDA + + +REDFIELD met his young guest in dinner-coat, looking extremely urban, and +presented his "friend and neighbor, Mr. Enderby." + +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." + +She turned to meet Ross Cavanagh, the young ranger. + +"How did you get here?" she asked, in wonder. + +"I rode across the hills; it's not far." + +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 _dare_ to wear it." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Virginia and Ross, being the only young folk at the table, were seated +together, and Enderby remarked privately: "Ross, you're in luck." + +"I know I am," he replied, heartily. + +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. + +"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." + +"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.'" + +"Oh, I know it perfectly!" exclaimed Enderby. "'If you want to make a +niggah feel good--'" + +"No, no; that's another one." + +Redfield interposed. "You wouldn't have them go about in sullen stealth, +would you? Think how song lightens their drudgery." + +"Ah yes; but if it drives the family out-of-doors?" + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +Ross turned to her. "Enderby is the kind of Englishman who wants to adapt +himself to new conditions, but can't." + +"You don't seem like an Englishman at all." + +"Well, I was caught young, and, besides, I'm really Irish--on my father's +side." + +"Oh, that's different!" she exclaimed, as though that somehow brought him +nearer to her own people. + +"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." + +"I hadn't the least thought of seeing you here. How did you happen to +come?" + +"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.'" + +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. + +"How is your mother?" he asked, a few minutes later. + +"Not at all well. Mr. Redfield is to take the doctor back with us +to-morrow." The ecstasy died out of her face, and the flexible lips +drooped with troubled musing. "I am afraid she suffers more than she will +admit." + +"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." + +"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--" + +"You certainly have made the old hotel into a place of miraculous +neatness." + +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." + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +He smiled. "Yes; I was serving in the regular army at that time." + +"You must have been very young?" + +"I was--a kid." + +"That was a brave thing to do." + +"Not at all. I was a soldier under orders of the commander of the post. I +dared not disobey." + +She would not have it so. "But you knew that you were going into danger?" + +"To be honest about it, I did; but I relied on my blue coat to protect +me." + +"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." + +"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." + +Here Redfield appealed to the ranger. "Ross, you're all sorts of a +reactionary. What do you say to this? Senator Bridges is opposed to all +Federal interference with State forests and State game." + +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." + +"Heah! heah!" cheered Enderby. + +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." + +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 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." + +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." + +"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." + +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." + +No sooner were they seated in the big living-room than Mrs. Enderby began +to relate comical stories of her 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." + +"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." + +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." + +"You're not going back to-night!" exclaimed his hostess. + +"I must be on my own precinct by daylight," he replied; "the Supervisor +has an eye on me." + +Mrs. Redfield explained to Lee Virginia. "He rode fifty miles over the +mountains--" + +"Thirty," corrected Ross. "But what does that matter when I'm in the +company of such charming ladies?" he added, gallantly. + +"And now he's going to ride all the way back to-night!" + +"Think of that," gasped Mrs. Enderby, "and no moon!" + +"How can you find your way?" asked Mrs. Bridges, to whom this was a +mortally dangersome journey. + +"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. + +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." + +"Come out on the veranda," suggested Cavanagh, "and I'll show you the +hills I must climb." + +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?" + +"Her mother is that dreadful old creature that keeps the Wetherford Hotel +in Roaring Fork." + +"No!" exclaimed Mrs. Enderby. + +"Yes; Lee Virginia is Lize Wetherford's daughter." + +"But the girl is charming." + +"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. + +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. + +"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." + +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?" + +"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." + +"It seems strange to me that you should prefer this wild country to +England." + +"Do you like the East better than the West?" + +"In some ways; but then, you see, I was born out here." + +"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." + +"Do you like it so much?" + +"At the present time I am perfectly contented. I'm 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." + +"I'd like it above everything," she responded, fervently. Then her voice +changed: "But all depends on my mother's health." + +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. + +She broke the silence. "It seems dreadfully dark and mysterious up there." +She indicated his path. + +"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." + +"But there are bears and other wild things, are there not?" + +"Not as many as I wish there were." + +"Why do you say that?" + +"I hate to see all the wild life killed off. Some day all these forests +will have game refuges like the Yellowstone 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." + +"It _is_ 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." + +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?" + +"In what way?" she asked, feeling something ardent in his tone. + +"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--" + +He checked himself at this point, and she said: "My mother is not as rough +as she seems, Mr. Cavanagh." + +"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." + +"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." + +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?" + +"If you wish me to." + +"I shall be most anxious to know." + +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: + +"I hope to persuade my mother to leave the Forks. All the best people +there are against us. Some of them have been very cruel to her and to me, +and, besides, I despise and fear the men who come to our table." + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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 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?" + +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. + +"I _am_ 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 _do_ seem different! I--I--trust you!" + +"I'm glad you understand me, and you _will_ let me know if I can help you, +won't you?" + +"Yes," she answered, simply. + +"Good-night," he said, extending his hand. + +She placed her palm to his quite frankly, but the touch of it made further +speech at the moment impossible. + +They went in with such tell-tale faces that even Redfield wondered what +had passed between them. + +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." + +"You're needlessly alarmed, as usual," he smilingly replied. "She +interests me--that's patent; but beyond that, why--nonsense! Good-night." + +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. + +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. + + + + +VI + +THE VOICE FROM THE HEIGHTS + + +LEE VIRGINIA 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. + +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. + +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 a +flattering interest in her, and his wish to be her protector filled her +with joy and confidence. + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"My dear, you have never seen the procession of the seasons from such a +point of view as that which he enjoys." + +"No, and I do not care to. It is quite lonely enough for me right here." + +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." + +"I most certainly do," his wife vigorously agreed. "And if I had my way we +should be living in London." + +"Listen to that! She's ten times more English than Mrs. Enderby." + +"I'm not; but I long for the civilized instead of the wild. I like comfort +and society." + +"So do I," returned he. + +"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." + +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. + +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 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?" + +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." + +"I don't believe in heredity as I did once," his wife resumed. "Aren't +scientific men rather divided about it?" + +"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." + +"Ross is terribly smitten with her." + +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." + +"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." + +"He's fully grown, my dear, and a bit dictatorial on his own part. I'm a +trifle timid about cutting in on his private affairs." + +"Then I'll do it. Marriage with a girl like that is out of the question. +Think what his sisters would say." + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +The girl's return put a stop to the discussion, which could end in nothing +but confusion anyway. + +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 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. + +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." + +On the way to the office, he said to Lee: "I will talk to the doctor if +you like." + +"I wish you would," she responded, fervently. + +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 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. + +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. + +"You'd better sit behind, Doctor," said Redfield. "I shall be very busy on +this trip." + +"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. + +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 how a man so garrulous could be a good physician. She +was quite sure her mother would not treat him with the slightest respect. + +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. + +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--" + +"No, I shall make the examination first--while I'm hungry. My mind works +quicker. I can't diagnose properly on a full stomach." + +"Very well; line up with me, and together we'll beard the old grizzly in +her den." + +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 _man_?" + +"Hush, mother," cautioned Lee, "this is the famous Eastern physician." + +"You can't be famous for your beauty--you must be brainy," she remarked to +herself in the stranger's hearing. + +Redfield presented "Doctor Fessenden, of Omaha." + +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!" + +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." + +"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!" + +"It's his way. Please don't anger him. You need his help." + +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. + +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." + +"Poor mother! how dreadfully ill she looks to-day. I hope the doctor will +order her to rest." + +"But will she obey? I've argued that with her. She keeps saying she will, +but she won't." + +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 +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. + +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. + +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." + +The diners were all smiling, and Gregg took a malicious satisfaction in +her defeat. She had held herself haughtily apart from him, and he was glad +to see her humbled. + +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. + +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!" + +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 intercourse with the +citizens of the town was disturbing, humiliating, and embittering. + + * * * * * + +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." + +"What is the matter, doctor?" + +"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." + +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?" + +"Mr. Redfield," replied Lee. "I'll go right back." + +"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." + +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. + +"That's _your_ problem," he replied, coolly. Then 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. + +"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." + +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." + +"It's up to you, madam," he replied, pocketing the gold. "Good-day!" + +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." + +"I'll be down again in a day or two!" called Redfield. + +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. + +Gregg was standing before the counter talking with 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." + +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: + +"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." + +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." + +"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?" + +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." + +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," she insisted; "you must get out and walk and ride. I can +take care of the house--at least, till we can sell it." + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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. + +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?" + +"She is terribly disheartened by what the doctor has said, but she is in +no immediate danger." + +He perceived her agitation, and was instantly sympathetic. "Can I be of +use--do you need me? If you do, I'll come down." + +"Where are you?" + +"I am at the sawmill--the nearest telephone station." + +"How far away are you?" + +"About thirty miles." + +"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." + +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." + +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." + +"I should like to come." + +"Perhaps it would do your mother good to camp for a while. Can't you +persuade her to do so?" + +"I'm trying to do that--I mean, to stop work; but she says, 'What can we +do to earn a living?'" + +"If nothing happens I hope to spend an hour or two at the Forks next +Sunday. I hope to find your mother better." + +Their words were of this unemotional sort, but in 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. + +The attendant asked, with village bluntness: "It _was_ Ross, wasn't it?" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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, 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. + +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. + + + + +VII + +THE POACHERS + + +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. + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +At daylight, there being still no sign of his quarry, he 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. + +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. + +"Hello Joe," called the ranger, "you're astir early!" + +The youth's fat face remained imperturbable, but his eyes betrayed +uneasiness. "Yes, it's a long pull into town." + +"Been hunting?" queried the ranger, still with cheery, polite interest. + +"Oh no; just visiting one of my sheep-camps." + +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." + +Neither of the men made answer, but the old man turned an inquiring look +at his young leader. + +The ranger flung his next sentence out like the lash of a whip. "Open this +sack or I cut the ropes!" + +Gregg threw out a hand in command. "_Open it up, Edwards!_" he said, +sullenly. + +With mechanical readiness the guide alighted from his horse, loosened the +cinch on the pack-horse, and disclosed the usual camp-bed. + +"Put off that bedding!" insisted the ranger. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +A couple of hours of silent travel brought them to the ranger's cabin, and +there he ordered a dismount. + +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!" + +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." + +"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?" + +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." + +"Nevertheless," retorted Ross, "you were packing the head, and I must +count you in the game." + +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. + +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 guide for their mishap. "You +should have known how far the sound of our guns would carry," he said. + +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?" + +"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." + +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." + +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--" + +"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?" + +Ross looked at him closely. "_Are_ you telling me the truth?" + +"Would you have mercy on me if I were?" + +"I should be sorry for you, but I couldn't let you go." + +"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. + +"How about this, Gregg?" called Ross. "Your guide insists he had no hand +in killing the ram?" + +"He fired first, and I fired and finished him," retorted Gregg. + +"'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--" + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +"Much obliged," said he, with a touch of bitter humor. + +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. + +"Hello Joe, what luck?" called Ballard. + +"Our luck was a little too good--we caught a game warden," replied the +young scapegrace. + +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. + +"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. + +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." + +"Yes he is. All these rangers are game wardens," corrected another. + +"No, they're not. They have to be commissioned by the Governor." + +"Well, he's been commissioned; he's warden all right." + +"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." + +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!" + +Lee faced her with blanched face. "Who told you so?" + +"They're all talking about it out there. Gee! but they're hot. Some of 'em +want to lynch him." + +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. + +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?" + +"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." + +"Do you mean he shot them?" + +"Yes; he took their heads." + +Lee stood aghast. "What do you mean? Whose heads?" + +Lize laughed. "The sheeps' heads. Oh, don't be scared, no one is hurt +yet!" + +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?" + +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?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Let's run the sonovagun!" was the suggestion of several of Gregg's +friends. + +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. + +The discussion which took place over the bars of the 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. + +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." + +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. + +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!" + +His words conveyed less of battle than his tone. He was, in fact, urging a +revolt, and Cavanagh knew it. + +Gregg rose as if to comply. The ranger stopped him. "Keep your seat," said +he. And to Ballard he warningly remarked: "And you keep away from my +prisoners." + +"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." + +"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. + +"Smash the lights!" shouted some one at the back. + +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!" + +There was a stealthy movement in the crowd, and leaping upon the counter a +reckless cub reached for the lamp. + +Cavanagh's revolver shattered the globe in the fellow's very palm. "Get +down from there!" he commanded. + +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. + +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 +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." + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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 +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. + +The dry little whisp of manhood had some spark of life in him, for he +said: "In their beds, the cowardly hounds!" + +"They must know that this gang of hobos is threatening me." + +"Certainly they do; but they don't intend to endanger their precious +hides. They would be well pleased to have you disabled." + +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. + +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. + +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?" + +"As a trivet," he replied. + +She let her gun-hand relax. "What was the shooting?" + +"A little bluff on my part." + +"Anybody hurt?" + +"No." + +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. + +"I don't know. Gone home, I guess." + +"Sneaked, has he?" + +"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. + +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?" + +"I don't see any other way. Halsey turned the place over to me--but--" He +looked about him suspiciously. + +"Bring 'em into my place. Lee has had new locks put on our doors; they'll +help some." + +"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." + +"All the better; I'll be on hand to help--but they're less likely to boil +in on you through a locked door." + +"But your daughter? It will alarm her." + +"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." + +Ross turned to his prisoners. "Follow Mrs. Wetherford and--eyes front!" + +"You needn't worry about me," said Joe, "I won't run." + +"I don't intend to give you a chance," replied Ross. + +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. + + + + +VIII + +THE SECOND ATTACK + + +Lee was waiting on the porch of the hotel, tense with excitement, +straining her ears and eyes to see what was taking place. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +Lee was alarmed at her mother's appearance. "You must go to bed. You look +ghastly." + +"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." + +"What can we do?" + +"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." + +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. + +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? + +"Come on, boys!" urged Ballard, his voice filled with reckless +determination. "Let's run him." + +As they passed, the girl sprang up and went to her mother's room to warn +her of the threatened attack. + +Lize was already awake and calmly loading a second revolver by the light +of the electric bulb. + +"What are you doing?" the girl asked, her blood chilling at sight of the +weapon. + +"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. + +Lee stopped her. "Where are you going?" + +"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!" + +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, 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. + +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. + +They all fell back in astonishment and fear. + +Ross leaped to her side. "Leave them to me!" he said. "I'll clear the +room." + +"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. + +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. + +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." + +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?" + +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." + +Lize regarded him with the expression of one nonplussed. "You impudent +little cub!" she exclaimed. "What you need is a booting!" + +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." + +She flushed with pleasure. "Oh yes, I can shoot. My father taught me when +I was only six years old." + +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." + +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. + +Lize turned to Lee. "The Doc said 'no liquor,' but I guess here's where I +draw one--I feel faint." + +Ross hurried to her side, while young Gregg tendered a handsome flask. +"Here's something." + +Lize put it away. "Not from you. Just reach under 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." + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +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." + +To this Lize objected. "You can't do that, Ross; you better hold the fort +right here till morning." + +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 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. + +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. + +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 _men_ have all grown old or got out." + +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 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. + +With the strength of a bear the new assailant shook the bolted door. "Let +me in!" he roared. + +"Go to hell!" replied Lize, calmly. + +"It's dad!" called young Gregg. "Go away, you chump." + +"Let me in or I'll smash this door!" retorted Gregg. + +"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." + +After a pause Sam called, "Are you there, son?" + +"You bet he is," responded Lize, "and here he'll stay." + +Joe added: "And you'd better take the lady's advice, pop. She has the drop +on you." + +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." + +Gregg went away without further word, and Lize said: "He'll find Higley if +he's in town; and he _is_ in town, for I saw him this afternoon. He's +hiding out to save himself trouble." + +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?" + +"I would, indeed," he answered, and his tone pleased her. + +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." + +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. + +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." + +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. + +Both prisoners rose to their feet as Cavanagh again stood alert. The feet +halted; a sharp rap sounded on the door. + +"Who's there?" demanded Lize. + +"The law!" replied a wheezy voice. "Open in the name of the law!" + +"It's old Higley," announced Lize. "Open the door, Ross." + +"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." + +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--" + +Higley had the grace to stop that. "Let up on the cuss-words, Sam; there +are ladies present," said he, nodding toward Lee. Then he opened upon +Cavanagh. "Well, sir, what's all this row? What's your charge against +these men?" + +"Killing mountain sheep. I caught them with the head of a big ram upon +their pack." + +"Make him show his commission," shouted Gregg. "He's never been +commissioned. He's no game warden." + +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." + +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." + +"How about that?" asked Higley, turning to Joe. + +"I guess that's right," replied the insolent youth. "We killed the sheep +all right." + +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." + +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. + +"No more sneaking, Higley," added Lize, uttering her distrust in blunt +phrase. "You put these men through or I'll make you trouble." + +Higley turned, and with unsteady solemnity saluted. "Fear not my +government, madam," said he, and so made exit. + +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?" + +"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." + +"No matter what happens now, you've done your duty," added Lee Virginia, +with intent to comfort him. + +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." + +Ross was alarmed at the sudden droop of her head. "Lean on me," he said, +"it's my turn to be useful." + +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." + +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." + +"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." + +For half an hour Cavanagh remained in the room waiting to see if the +doctor's services would be required, but at the end of that time, as she +had apparently fallen asleep, he rose and tiptoed out into the hall. + +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. + +When they were quite alone Lee said: "You must not go out into the streets +to-night." + +"There's no danger. These hoodlums would not dare to attack me." + +"Nevertheless, you shall not go!" she declared. "Wait a moment," she +commanded, and reentered her mother's room. + +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. + +"Her breathing is quieter," she whispered. "I think she's going to sleep. +It's been a terrible night! You must be horribly tired. I will find you +some place to sleep." + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +"Please don't go till after breakfast," she smiled, wanly, "I may need +you." + +He understood. "What did the doctor say?" + +"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." + +"She is more like a man than a woman," he answered. + +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." + +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 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. + +"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. + +"It is another world," she responded, and her face took on a musing +gravity. + +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. + +"You must call me if I can be of any help," he repeated, and his voice was +tremulous with feeling. + +"I will do so," she answered. + +Still they did not part. His voice was very tender as he said, "I don't +like to see you exposed to such experiences." + +"I was not afraid--only for you a little," she answered. + +"The Redfields like you. Eleanor told me she would gladly help you. Why do +you stay here?" + +"I cannot leave my mother." + +"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." + +"Neither do you," she retorted. + +"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." + +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." + +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." + +"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." + +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." + +"You mustn't do that. You can't do that. You are to appear before the +judge." + +He smiled. "That is true. I'd forgotten that." + +Radiant with relief, she extended her hand. "Good-night, then. You must +sleep." + +He took her hand and drew her toward him, then perceiving both wonder and +fear in her eyes, he conquered himself. "Good-night," he repeated, +dropping her hand, but his voice was husky with its passion. + +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. + + + + +IX + +THE OLD SHEEP-HERDER + + +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. + +Soon she came toward him, a smile of confidence and pleasure on her lips. + +"How is she?" he asked. + +"Quite comfortable." + +"And you?" His voice was very tender. + +"I am a little tired," she acknowledged. "I didn't sleep very well." + +"You didn't sleep at all," he declared, regretfully. + +"Oh yes, I did," she replied, brightly. + +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. + +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. "You must let me help you if there's anything I can +do. Remember, I'm your big brother." + +"I remember," she answered, smilingly, "and I'm going out to see what my +big brother is to have for breakfast." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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, +but not beaten. His resolution to carry out the terms of his contract with +the Government remained unshaken. + +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. + +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. + +In this mood, too, he acknowledged the loneliness of his life for the +first time, and rode his silent way up the trail 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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 yet to have her go would leave me and the whole +valley poorer." + +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." + +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." + +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. + +He was just dishing out his rude supper when the feet of a horse on the +log bridge announced a visitor. + +With a feeling of pleasure as well as relief, he rose to greet the +stranger. "Any visitor is welcome this night," he said. + +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?" + +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." + +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. + +"I'm going up to take Ambro's place," he began, after a few minutes of +silent eating. "Know where his camp is?" + +"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." + +"Is it high?" + +"About eleven thousand feet." + +"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." + +"Lung trouble?" + +"Oh no; old age, I reckon." + +"You're not old--not more than fifty-five." + +"I'm no colt," he admitted; "and, besides, I've lived pretty swift." + +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?" + +"Yes." + +"In any other town in the State you'd have gone down the line." + +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." + +"Well, it's a closed incident now," interposed Ross; "we won't reopen it. +Make yourself at home." + +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 cowboys think you have +a snap, but I guess you earn your money." + +"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." + +"What do you do it for?" + +"God knows! I've been asking myself that question all day to-day." + +"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 _me_ all right." He smiled +wanly. "I certainly was on my way to the green timber when she put the +bars up." + +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." + +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." + +"He's dead, is he?" + +"So far as anybody knows, he is." + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +Edwards sank back into his chair. "I reckon that's right," he agreed, and +made offer to help clear away the supper dishes. + +"No, you're tired," replied Ross; "rest and smoke. I'll soon be done." + +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. + +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?" + +"Now, see here, old man," Ross retorted, sharply, "you want to do a lot of +thinking before you comment on Miss Wetherford. I won't stand for any +nasty clack." + +Edwards meekly answered: "I wasn't going to say anything out of the way. I +was fixin' for to praise her." + +"All the same, I don't intend to discuss her with you," was Cavanagh's +curt answer. + +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: + +"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." + +"How do you know?" + +"I heard one of the boys braggin' about it." + +"Much obliged," responded Ross. "I'll look into it." + +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." + +"When does your parole end?" asked Ross. + +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." + +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." + +"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." + +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." + +The old fellow rose stiffly, and, laying aside his boots and trousers, +rolled into his bunk and was asleep in three minutes. + +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. + +"Haven't you any slicker?" asked Cavanagh. "It looks like rain." + +"No, I'm run down pretty low," he replied. "The truth is, Mr. Ranger, I +blew in all my wages at roulette last week." + +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." + +Edwards was visibly moved by this kindness. "Sure you can spare it?" + +"Certain sure; I've another," returned the ranger, curtly. + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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 sheep a thousand feet higher than this?" he demanded as they +entered the still place, where the sun shone warm. + +"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." + +"How do you happen to be reduced to herding sheep? You look like a man who +has seen better days." + +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." + +"John Barleycorn was involved, I reckon." + +"Sure thing--he's generally always in it." + +"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." + +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." + +Ross smiled a little. "You showed bad judgment--as it turned out." + +"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?" + +"Her father taught her, so she said." + +"She wouldn't remember me--an old cuss like me--but 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." + +Strange to say, Ross no longer objected to the old man's words of +admiration; on the contrary, he encouraged him to talk on. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"She didn't used to be," asserted Edwards; "she was a mighty handsome +woman when I used to see her riding around with Ed." + +"She's down at the heel now, quite like the town." + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +"Her blood ain't so bad. Wetherford was a fool and a daredevil, but he +came of good Virginia stock--so I've heard." + +"Well, whatever was good in both sire and dame this girl seems to have +mysteriously gathered to herself." + +The old man looked at him with a bright sidelong glance. "You are a little +sweet on the girl, eh?" + +Ross began to regret his confidence. "She's making a good fight, and I +feel like helping her." + +"And she rather likes being helped by you. I could see that when she +brought the coffee to you. She likes to stand close--" + +Ross cut him short. "We'll not discuss her any further." + +"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." + +Cavanagh winced. "You can't very well hide a handsome woman in a cattle +country." + +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?" + +"If I did, would I show it to you?" + +"You might. You might even give it to me." + +Cavanagh looked at the man as if he were dreaming. "You must be crazy." + +"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." + +He paused a moment. "So if you have a picture, I wish you'd show it to +me." + +"I haven't any." + +"Is that right?" + +"That's right. I've only seen her two or three times, and she isn't the +kind that distributes her favors." + +"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?" + +"See here, Mr. Sheep-herder, you better ride on up to your camp," and Ross +turned to mount his horse. + +"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 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?" + +Ross was angry now. "What I intend to do is none of your business." + +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!" + +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." + +"You needn't be--I'm her father!" + +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 _you_ Ed Wetherford?" + +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." + +Ross, confused by this new complication in the life of the girl he was +beginning to love, stared at his companion 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?" + +"In the Texas 'pen.' I served nine years there." + +"What for?" + +"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." + +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, 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. + +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." + +"Does she?" he asked, eagerly. + +"Yes, and she loves to talk of you. She knows the town's folk despise your +memory, but that she lays to prejudice." + +"She must never know. You must promise never to tell her." + +"I promise that," Cavanagh said, and Edwards went on: + +"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." + +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 lived. "She must be spared this added burden of shameful +inheritance," he decided. + +The other man seemed to understand something of the ranger's indignant +pity, for he repeated: "I want you to _swear_ 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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +"There's your house," shouted Ross to Wetherford. + +The older man, with white face of dismay, looked about him, unable to make +reply. + +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. + +"Hello there!" shouted Ross, wondering at the absence of human life about +the camp. "Hello the house!" + +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." + +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?" + +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." + +Wetherford recoiled a step. "Smallpox! What makes you think that?" + +"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." + +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." + +"Nonsense; I am younger and stronger than you." + +"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." + +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." + +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 amazing to Cavanagh to witness his change of +manner. + +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." + +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. + +"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." + +"All right; but remember I've established a quarantine. I'll crack your +head if you break over the line an inch." + +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 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." + +"I take off my hat to you," responded Cavanagh. "You are a man." + + + + +X + +THE SMOKE OF THE BURNING + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 +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. + +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?" + +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. + +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, 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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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, 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. + +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. + +Wetherford met him at the door, no longer the poor old tramp, but a +priest, one who has devoted himself to Christ's service. + +"How is he?" asked the ranger. + +"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." + +"I've got some food and some extra clothing for you." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Keep quiet now--quiet, boy! It's all right. I'm here to take care of +you," Wetherford repeated, endlessly. + +Cavanagh waited till a silence came; then called, softly: "Here's your +breakfast, Wetherford." + +"Move away," retorted the man within. "Keep your distance." + +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?" + +"I could reach one by 'phone from the Kettle Ranch, about twenty miles +below here." + +"If he don't get better to-day I reckon we'll have to have a doctor." He +looked so white and old that Cavanagh said: + +"You need rest. Now I _think_ I've had the smallpox--I know I've been +vaccinated, and if you go to bed--" + +"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." + +"Would a doctor come?" asked Ross, huskily, moved by Wetherford's words. +"It's a hard climb. Would they think the dago worth it?" + +Wetherford's face darkened with a look of doubt. "It _is_ a hard trip for +a city man, but maybe he would come for you--for the Government." + +"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." + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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--_a charred hand!_ In the smoke of that fire +was the reek of human flesh. + +For a long time the ranger sat on his horse, peering 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. + +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. + +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? + +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. + +In his horror, his sense of revolt, he cursed the State of 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. + +"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." + +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! + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"Is that you, Ross? What's the matter? Your voice sounds hoarse." + +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." + +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. + +"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?" + +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." + +The embittered and disheartened ranger then called up Lee Virginia, and +the sound of her sweet voice turned 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." + +"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." + +Her voice was filled with disappointment and fear as she said: "Oh, I need +you so! Can't you come?" + +"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." + +"Mother wants _you_. She says she _must_ 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." + +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?" + +Her voice was fainter as she said: "Yes, but I--it seems hard to wait." + +"I know. Your voice has helped me. I was in a black mood when I came here. +I'm going back now to do my work, and then I will come to you. Good-bye." + +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. + + + + +XI + +SHADOWS ON THE MIST + + +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. + +"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. + +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 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!" + +He wondered, as he rode on, whether the papers of the State would make a +jest of _this_ deed. "Will this be made the theme for caustic comment in +the Eastern press for a day, and then be forgotten?" + +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." + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"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. + +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." + +But the mist grew gray, the aureole of fire faded, the 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. + +"At the best, the sheriff cannot reach here before midnight," he said, and +settled down to his unsought, revolting vigil. + +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." + +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." + +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 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." + +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? + +Was it possible that one so gentle should have taken part in this deed? +"Preposterous suspicion, and yet he had a guilty look." + +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. + +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 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 _his_ +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. + +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. + +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. + +As they rode up to the fire, the officer called out: "Howdy, ranger! How +about it?" + +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. + +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." + +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?" + +"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." + +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." + +"You won't have far to go," remarked Ross, significantly. + +"What do you mean?" asked the sheriff. + +"I mean this slaughter, like the others that have taken place, was the +work of cattle-men who claim this range. Their names are known to us +all." + +"Can it be possible!" exclaimed Redfield, looking round at the silent +throng, and in the wavering light certain eyes seemed to shift and fall. + +"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?" + +"But they would not dare to do such work themselves." + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +The group of ranchers dismounted, and followed the sheriff over to the +grewsome spot; but Redfield stayed with the ranger. + +"Have you any suspicion, Ross?" + +"No, hardly a suspicion. However, you know as well as I that this was not +a sudden outbreak. This deed was planned. It represents the feeling of +many cattle-men--in everything but the extra horror of its execution. +_That_ 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?" + +"No. What's the trouble?" + +"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." + +His voice, filled with emotion, touched Redfield, and he said: "Can't I go +to the relief of the herder?" + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +For more than three hours the sheriff and Redfield sat 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. + +"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?" + +"I passed him as I was riding back," replied Cavanagh, "and he had a +scared look in his eyes." + +The sheriff grunted. "You imagined all that. The old chap always has a +kind of meek look." + +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?" + +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. + +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. + +"How is the Basque?" asked the ranger. + +Wetherford pointed upward. "All over." + +"Then it wasn't smallpox?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Wetherford himself paused to moralize. "I suppose that chap has a mother +somewhere who is wondering 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." + +Nevertheless, the ranger took a hand at the end and rolled some huge +bowlders upon the grave, to insure the wolves' defeat. + +"Now burn the bedding," he commanded--"the whole camp has got to go--and +your clothing, too, after we get down the hill." + +"What will we do with the sheep?" + +"Drive them over the divide and leave them." + +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. + +"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." + +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!" + +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!" + +"He's onto _his_ 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 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." + +It was long after dark when they entered the canon just above the cabin, +and Wetherford was shivering from cold and weakness. + +"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?" + +"I'm willing," responded Wetherford. "You can burn everything that belongs +to me but my wife and my girl." + +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. + +"What a corking opportunity to make a fresh start," commented Cavanagh. "I +hope you see it." + +"I see it; but it's hard to live up to your mark." + +When every precaution had been taken, the ranger led the freshly scrubbed, +scoured, and transformed fugitive to his cabin. + +"Why, man, you're fit for the State Legislature," he 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." + +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." + +"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." + +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." + +"You need not worry about food or shelter for the present," replied +Cavanagh, gently. "Grub is not costly here, and house-rent is less than +nominal, so make yourself at home and get strong." + +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." + +"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." + +The old man fell a-tremble. "I daren't do that. I can't bear to tell her +where I've been!" + +"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." + +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." + +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 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. + +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. + +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.'" + +"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." + +"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. + +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 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." + +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. + +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. + +"You can prove an alibi," he called, as he drew near. "Gregg himself would +never recognize you now." + +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." + +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 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." + +"I think I understand you," said Cavanagh, with sympathy in his voice. + +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." + +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!" + +"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!" + +The man in front was the deputy sheriff of the county; his companion was a +stranger. + +"That was a horrible mess you stumbled on over on Deer Creek," the deputy +remarked. + +"It certainly was. Have any arrests been made?" + +"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?" + +Again Cavanagh nodded. + +"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." + +"Is that so?" exclaimed Cavanagh. "I thought he seemed a bit gun-shy." + +"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?" + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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 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." + +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." + +He succeeded at last in completely rousing the older man's courage. + +Wetherford rose to meet his opportunity. "I'll do it," he said, firmly. + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +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? + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 Eleanor Redfield against +his further entanglement with Lize Wetherford's girl. + +"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." + +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-- + +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. + +"What's the matter, Swenson? You look as if you had lost a friend." + +"I have," answered the guard, shortly, "and so have you. The chief is +out." + +"What?" + +"They've got him!" he exclaimed. "He's out." + +Cavanagh sprang up. "I don't believe it! For what reason? Why?" + +"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?" + +Cavanagh's young heart burned with indignation, but he tried to check the +other man's torrent of protest. + +"I can't believe it. There's some mistake. Maybe they've made him the +secretary of the department or something." + +"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. + +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." + +He was almost as badly stunned by the significance of Swenson's news as +Swenson himself. Could it be possible 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. + +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?" + +"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." + +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." + +"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?" + +Redfield's voice was husky as he replied, "Yes, lad, they've got him." + +"Good Lord! What a blow to the service!" exclaimed Cavanagh, with a groan +of sorrow and rage. "What 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." + +"Don't say that, boy. We need you now more than ever." + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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!" + +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." + +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. + +"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." + +His pony of its own accord turned, and by a circuitous route headed at +last for the home canon as if it knew 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. + + + + +XII + +CAVANAGH'S LAST VIGIL BEGINS + + +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. + +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?" + +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. + +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 +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? + +"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." + +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. + +It was again dusk as he rode up to his own hitching-pole and slipped from +the saddle. + +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. + +"Bad," responded the ranger. + +"In what way?" + +"The chief has been dismissed and all the rascals are chuckling with glee. +I've resigned from the service." + +Wetherford was aghast. "What for?" + +"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." + +"Did you see Lize and my girl?" + +"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. + +"Don't lose your nerve; mebbe this ends the reign of terror." + +"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." + +"I reckon that's so." + +"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." + +They were standing at the gate of the corral, and the roar of the mountain +stream enveloped them in a cloud of sound. + +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." + +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." + +"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." + +"She should never have returned to this accursed country," Cavanagh +harshly replied, starting back toward the cabin. + +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 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. + +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." + +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. + +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." + +"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. + +"Come in, Laddie!" Ross urged, but this the dog refused to do. "I am a +creature of the open air," he 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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"What happened to that old hobo I sent up?" he asked. + +Cavanagh briefly retold his story, and at the end of it Gregg grunted. +"You say you burned the tent and all the bedding?" + +"Every thread of it. It wasn't safe to leave it." + +"What ailed the man?" + +"I don't know, but it looked and smelled like smallpox." + +The deputy rose with a spring. "Smallpox! You didn't _handle_ the cuss?" + +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." + +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?" + +"Yes, but I used a slicker while working around the body." + +"Good King!" The sweat broke out on the man's face. "You ought to be +arrested." + +Ross took a step toward him. "I'm at your service." + +"Keep off!" shouted the sheriff. + +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!" + +"The dog!" exclaimed the deputy, seized with another idea. "Not that dog +you fed just now?" + +"The very same," replied Cavanagh. + +"Don't you know a dog's sure to carry the poison in his hair? Why, _he +jumped on you_! Why didn't you shoot him?" he demanded, fiercely. + +"Because he's a faithful guardian, and, besides, he was with the sheep, +and never so much as entered the tent." + +"Do you _know_ that?" + +"Not absolutely, but he seemed to be on shy terms with the herder, and I'm +sure--" + +The officer caught up his hat and coat and started for the door. "It's me +for the open air," said he. + +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." + +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." + +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." + +"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." + +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." + + * * * * * + +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 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. + +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." + +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. + +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 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." + +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." + +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." + +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. + +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 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." + +"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--" + +"But I'm not," protested Ross. "I'm going to leave her right here. I can't +take her." + +Wetherford looked at him with steady eyes, into which a keen light leaped. +"Don't you intend to marry her?" + +Ross turned away. "No, I don't--I mean it is impossible!" + +"Why not? Don't tell me you're already married?" He said this with +menacing tone. + +"No, I'm not married, but--" He stopped without making his meaning plain. +"I'm going to leave the country and--" + +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." + +Cavanagh threw out an impatient hand. "It is impossible," he protested. +"It's better for her and better for me that I should do so. I've made up +my mind. I'm going back to my own people." + +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." + +Cavanagh's eyes met his with firm but sorrowful gaze. "In the sense in +which you mean, I leave her as I found her." + +The old man's open hand shot out toward his rescuer. "Forgive me, my lad," +he said, humbly; "for a minute I--doubted you." + +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--" + +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 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!" + +"Which would have been your duty," declared Cavanagh, wearily. + +And in the face of this baffling mood, which he felt but could not +understand, the old man fell silent. + + + + +XIII + +CAVANAGH ASKS FOR HELP + + +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. + +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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +"Are you sure he's been here?" + +"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. + +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." + +"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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"I think she's better." + +"Can I see her?" + +His tone was so earnest that the girl was moved to say: "I'll ask her." + +"I wish you would; I want to say something to her." + +Lize's voice reached where they stood. "Come in, Joe, the door's open." + +He accepted her invitation rather awkwardly, but his face was impassive as +he looked down upon her. + +"Well, how about it?" she asked. "What's doing in the town?" + +"Not much of anything--except talk. The whole country is buzzing over this +dismissal of the Chief Forester." + +"They'd better be doing something about that murder." + +"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.'" + +Lize scowled. "It's a wonder they don't charge it up to Ross Cavanagh or +some other ranger." + +"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." + +"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." + +"I can take you part way," he instantly declared. "But you'd have to ride +a horse the last ten miles." + +"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." + +"Sure thing. What day?" + +"Not for a day or two. I'm not quite up to it just now; but by Saturday +I'll be saddle-wise again." + +Joe turned joyously to Lee. "That will be great! Won't you come out for a +spin this minute?" + +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. + +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." + +"Does he know who burned them sheep-herders?" + +"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, 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. + +"I'm going to let him take us up to Sulphur," she said to Lee. "I want to +go to town." + +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." + +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. + +"Go ask Reddy to come in," commanded Lize. "I want to see him." + +Redfield met the girl at the door and presented his companion as "Mr. +Dalton, District Forester." Dalton was a tall young fellow with a marked +Southern accent. "Is Cavanagh, the ranger, in town?" he asked. + +"No," Lee replied, with effort; "he was here a few days ago, but he's gone +back to the forest." + +Redfield studied the girl with keen gaze, perceiving a passionate +restraint in her face. + +"How is your mother?" he asked, politely. + +Lee smiled faintly. "She's able to sit up. Won't you come in and see +her?" + +"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 +cafe, Dalton. I'll see you in a moment." + +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. + +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 fly-bit, and all that, but so +am I. I wouldn't fit in anywhere that Lee belonged." + +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." + +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. + +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." + +"Indeed! Why not go back with me?" + +"You can take the girl back if you want to, but now that I'm getting my +chance at you I may not go." + +Redfield's tone was entirely cordial as he turned to Lee. "I came hoping +to carry you away. Will you come?" + +"I'm afraid I can't unless mother goes," she replied, sadly. + +Lize waved an imperative hand. "Fade away, child. I want to talk with Mr. +Redfield alone. Go, see!" + +Thus dismissed, Lee went back to the restaurant, where she found the +Forester just sitting down to his luncheon. "Mr. Redfield will be out in a +few minutes," she explained. + +"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." + +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. + +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?" + +She faced him with startled eyes. "No, indeed. Has he done so?" + +"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." + +"Why did he resign?" + +"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 me of your interest +in Mr. Cavanagh--or rather his interest in you." + +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. + +Gregg growled out, "You'd better keep your man Cavanagh in the hills, Mr. +Forester, or somebody will take a pot-shot at him." + +"Why, what's new?" + +"His assistant is down with smallpox." + +"_Smallpox_!" exclaimed Dalton. + +Every jaw was fixed and every eye turned upon the speaker. + +"Smallpox!" gasped Lee. + +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." + +"Good heavens, man!" exclaimed Dalton. "This is serious business. Are you +sure it's smallpox?" + +"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 'phone, and Cavanagh admitted to us that the Basque died of smallpox, +and that he buried him with his own hands." + +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." + +"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." + +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." + +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 man is criminally liable, and should be jailed +if he lives to get back to town." + +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--" + +"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 _me_ in the +disease. I tell you, if you don't take care of him the people of the +county will." + +The Forester looked grave. "If he _knew_ 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. _You_ 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." + +Lee turned a grateful glance upon him. "You must be right. I don't believe +Mr. Cavanagh would deceive any one." + +"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." + +"He ain't alone," declared the sheriff. "Tom 'phoned me that he had an +assistant." + +"Swenson, I suppose," said Redfield, who entered at this moment. "Swenson +is his assistant." + +"I didn't see him myself," Gregg continued, "but I understood the deputy +to say that he was an old man." + +"Swenson is a young man," corrected Redfield. + +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." + +"That's very curious," mused Redfield. "There isn't an old man in the +service of this forest. There's a mistake somewhere." + +"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." + +"What nonsense!" exclaimed Redfield. + +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!" + +The thunder in his voice drew toward him all those who remained in the +dining-room, and Lee found herself 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. + +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." + +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." + +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--" + +"Has he resigned?" asked Gregg, eagerly. + +"He has." + +"A damn good job for him. I was about to circulate a petition to have him +removed." + +"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." + +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." + +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." + +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. + +Upon this discussion, Lize, hobbling painfully, appeared. With a cry of +surprise, Lee rose to meet her. + +"Mother, you must not do this!" + +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?" + +"No. So far as we know, he is well." + +"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." + +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." + +"What does he need?" asked Redfield. + +"He needs medicine and food, a doctor, and he ought to have a nurse." + +"That's my job," said Lize. + +"Nonsense!" said Redfield. "You're not fit to ride a mile. I won't hear of +your going." + +"You wait and see. I'm goin', and you can't stop me." + +"Who is the man with him?" asked the Forester. + +"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--" + +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!" + +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." + +"I'm going too, I tell you," announced Lize. "I've 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." + +"But you are ill?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + + + + +XIV + +THE PEST-HOUSE + + +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. + +"You've got it," he said. "It's up to us to move down the valley +to-morrow." + +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." + +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?" + +"A friend," replied the stranger, in a weak voice. + +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?" + +Notwithstanding this warning the rider dropped from his saddle, and came +into the light which streamed from the door. + +"My name is Dunn," he began. "I'm from Deer Creek." + +"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." + +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." + +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." + +"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 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. + +"Go on," replied the ranger; "I'll protect you--if I can. Go on. It's your +duty--tell all you know." + +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." + +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 _believe_--that the men on that +committee could chop and burn--" His utterance failed him again, and he +fell silent abruptly. + +"They must have been drunk--mad drunk," retorted 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?" + +"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. + +"Yes, I believe you. You must tell this story to the judge. It will end +the reign of the cattle-men." + +"Oh no, I can't do that." + +"You must do that. It is your duty as a Christian man and citizen." + +"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. + +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." + +Wetherford turned a wild eye on the ranger as he reentered. "Who's out +there?" he asked. "Is it the marshal?" + +"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. + +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." + +"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--" + +"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." + +Dunn could only shiver in his horror and repeat his fear. "They'll kill me +if I do." + +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." + +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. + +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." + +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 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. + +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. + +Once the old man looked up with wide, dark, unseeing eyes and murmured, "I +don't seem to know you." + +"I'm a friend--my name is Cavanagh." + +"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." + +"All right," Ross soothingly agreed; "but you'll have to keep quiet till +you get over this fever you're suffering from." + +"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." + +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 coming with three men and two women +in them. "They'll be here in half an hour." + +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." + +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! + +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." + +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." + +"I want to help!" she protested. + +"I know you do; but I won't have it. This quarantine is real, and it +goes!" + +"But suppose you yourself get sick?" + +"We'll cross _that_ bridge when we get to it. I'm all right so far, and +I'll call for help when I need it." + +His tone was imperative, and she obeyed, grumbling about his youth and the +value of his life to the service. + +"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." + +"I've had it once," she asserted. + +He looked at her, and smiled in recognition of her subterfuge. + +"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: + +"Are you sure it's smallpox?" + +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." + +"Have you been vaccinated?" + +"Yes; when I was in the army." + +"Then you're all right." + +"I hope so." + +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 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." + +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?" + +"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. + +"I suppose I'll have to," he protested, weakly. + +"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." + +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. + +"I tried to bring a nurse," explained Redfield, "but I couldn't find +anybody but old Lize who would come." + +"I don't blame them," replied Ross. "It isn't a nice job, even when you've +got all the conveniences." + +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." + +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." + +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." + +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 +not merely his equal but his superior in purity of character and in +purpose. "What nonsense we talk of heredity, of family," he thought. + +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?" + +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. + +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.'" + +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. + +Meantime, seeing no chance of aiding the ranger, 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 _know_ that he is beyond all danger." + +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." + +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." + +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." + +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." + +To this Ross made reply. "At the moment I feel that 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." + +"Would you accept the supervisorship of the Washakie Forest?" demanded +Dalton. + +Taken by surprise, he stammered: "I might; but am I the man?" + +"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." + +"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. + +"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." + +"It may be. If these assassins are punished I shall feel hopeful of the +change." + +"I shall recommend you for the supervisorship of the Washakie Forest," +concluded Dalton, decisively. "And so good-bye and good-luck." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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; "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." + +Lee expressed a deep satisfaction from the fact of their nearness. "If he +is ill we can help him," she reiterated. + +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." + +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." + +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 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. + +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. + +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 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. + + + + +XV + +WETHERFORD PASSES ON + + +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. + +"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." + +"How do you feel yourself?" asked his subordinate, anxiously. + +"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." + +"The women folks over there are terribly worried, and the old lady has +made me promise to call her in if you show the slightest signs of coming +down." + +"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." + +He returned to his charge, and Swenson walked slowly away, back to the +camp, oppressed with the sense of his utter helplessness. + +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. + +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 she grew faint +with the horror of the struggle which was going on in that silent cabin. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +"If I go, you must take care--of my girl--take care of Lize, too. Promise +me that. Do you promise?" he insisted. + +"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. + +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 even the vigor which his outdoor life had built up +could withstand the strain another day. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Beware! Smallpox!" called Ross, as his visitor drew near the door. + +The new-comer waved his hand contemptuously. "I've had it. Are you Ross +Cavanagh?" + +"I am!" + +"My name is Hartley. I represent the Denver _Round-up_. 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?" + +Cavanagh started, and his face set. "No!" + +"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?" + +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?" + +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 _now_! 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." + +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 calm, almost languid movement, restless energy could +be detected in his voice. + +"What is your plan?" the ranger asked. + +"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." + +Cavanagh followed him with complete comprehension, and a desire to carry +out the plan seized upon him. + +"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--" + +"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?" + +"No!" answered Cavanagh, bluntly. "It's no use, I can't join you in +this--at least, not now." + +"But you'll give me the names which Dunn gave you?" + +"No, I can't do that. I shall tell the Supervisor, and he can act as he +sees fit--for the present I'm locked up here." + +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." + +There was much truth in what he said, but Cavanagh refused to go further +in the matter until he had consulted with Redfield. + +"Very well," replied Hartley, "that's settled. By-the-way, who is your +patient?" + +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." + +"Keep him in the dark, that's the latest theory--or under a red light. +White light brings out the ulcers." + +"He hates darkness; that's one reason why I've opened the doors and +windows." + +"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." + +Cavanagh smiled. "Would my objection have any weight?" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +Hartley studied him coolly. "Are you a ranger, too?" + +"No, only a guard." + +"Why are you leaving Cavanagh to play it alone in there?" + +Lee explained. "He won't let any of us come near him." + +"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." + +"We don't know that," Lee said, and her hands came together in a spasm of +fear. "Are you a doctor?" + +"No, I'm only a newspaper man; but I've had a lot 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." + +"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. + +"_You_ are not out here for your health," he stated, rather thoughtfully. +"How happens it you're here?" + +"I was born here--in the Fork." + +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?" + +Lize took a part in the conversation. "Another inspector?" she asked, as +she lumbered up. + +"That's me," he replied; "Sherlock Holmes, Vidocque, all rolled into +one." + +"My mother," again volunteered Lee. + +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?" + +Lize resented this. "You're asking a good many questions, Mr. Man." + +"That's my trade," was the unabashed reply, "and I'm not so old but that I +can rise to a romantic situation." 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. + +"We're not so mighty disinterested," he said, referring to his paper. +"_The Round-up_ 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." + +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 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." + +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. + +"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 _do_ +come up you'll be judiciously silent. Good-bye." + +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 _nothing_. Please say that." + +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. + +"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. + +"Stop!" he called, sharply. "Keep away. Why don't you obey me? Why don't +you go back to the valley?" + +"Because I will not leave you alone--I can't! Please let me stay!" + +"I beg of you go back." + +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?" + +"We're so anxious about you," she answered. "It seems as though we should +be doing something to help you." + +He understood, and was grateful for the tenderness which brought her so +near to him, but he was forced to be stern. + +"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. + +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." + +Lee Virginia thanked him, but reiterated her wish to stay until all +possible danger to Cavanagh was over. + +Redfield crossed the bridge, and laid the medicines down outside the +door. + +"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." + +"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." + +"I'll do the best I can," responded Redfield, "but meanwhile you must +_not_ 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." + +Cavanagh's face lighted up. "That'll help some," he exclaimed; "but who's +the man?" + +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." + +"That's good," repeated Cavanagh; "and yet--" he said, sadly, "it leaves +the chief out just the same." + +"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?" + +"Throw it to me," said Cavanagh, curtly. + +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. + +"What are your orders, Mr. Supervisor?" he asked, with a faint, quizzical +smile around his eyes. + +"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--" + +"I know." + +"How did you learn it?" + +"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 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." + +"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." + +"The reward should go to Dunn's family," replied the ranger, soberly. +"Poor chap, he's sacrificed himself for the good of the State." + +"That's true. His family is left in bad shape--" + +Cavanagh broke off the conversation suddenly. "I must go back to--" he had +almost said "back to Wetherford." "My patient needs me!" he exclaimed. + +"How does he seem?" + +"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." + +Redfield walked slowly back across the river, thinking on the patient +courage of the ranger. + +"It isn't the obvious kind of thing, but it's courage all the same," he +said to himself. + +Meanwhile Lize and Virginia, left alone beside the fire, had drawn closer +together. + +The girl's face, so sweet and so pensive, wrought 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?" + +The girl flushed a little, but her eyes remained steady. "I would not be +here if I did not," she replied. + +"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." + +Lee stared at her in amazement. "What do you mean?" she asked. + +"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." + +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 +herself and Lize was explained. Their difference in habit, temperament, +thought--all became plain. "But my mother!" she said, at last. "Who _was_ +my mother?" + +"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." + +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." + +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 _step_-mother-in-law. 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." + +Lee turned back wistfully toward the story of her mother. "Where did my +mother meet my father? Do you know that?" + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +As she pondered on her changed relationship to Lize, Lee's heart +lightened. It _would_ 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 know that her own mother, her real mother, had been +"nice." "She _must_ have been nice or Lize would not have said so," she +reasoned, recalling that her stepmother had admitted her feeling of +jealousy. + +At last Lize rose. "Well, now, dearie, I reckon we had better turn in. It +is getting chilly and late." + +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. + +But Lize was not deceived. This unwonted caress made perfectly plain to +her the relief which filled the girl's heart. + + * * * * * + +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. + +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. + +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 of the scene. There was something uncanny in the calm +inaction of the three strong men. + +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. + +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." + +"How could you do it?" she cried out, understanding what his sacrifice had +been. + +"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." + +Dumb and shivering with the chill of the morning, Lee Virginia drew +nearer, ever nearer. "I am so sorry," she said, and yearned toward him, +eager to comfort him, but he warningly motioned her away. + +"Please don't come any nearer, for I dare not touch you." + +"But you are not ill?" she cried out, with a note of apprehension in her +voice. + +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.'" + +"I am very glad of that," she said. + +"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?" + +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." + +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!" + + * * * * * + +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?" + +"Indeed it is," replied the girl, earnestly. + +"But I'm not going to be sick," retorted Cavanagh. "I refuse to be sick." + +"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." + +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 told how kind you have been. You could not have been kinder to one of +your own people." + +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." + +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." + +He led her thoughts to pleasanter paths. "I am glad you are going with the +Supervisor. You _are_ going, are you not?" + +"Yes, for a few days, till I'm sure you're safe." + +"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." + +Cavanagh resigned Lee with a smile. "Good-night," he said. "Oh, but it's +good to remember that I shall see you to-morrow!" + +With a happy glance and a low "Good-bye" she turned away. + +Laying aside his blanket and his shoes, Cavanagh crept into the snug +little camp-bed. "Ah," he breathed, with 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. + +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." + +"What time is it?" inquired Cavanagh, with some bewilderment. + +"Nearly noon. I've got some coffee ready. Want some?" + +"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!" + +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. + +"You seem all right so far," hazarded the guide. + +"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." + +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." + +Together they zigzagged up the side of the hill to the north, and then +with Cavanagh in the lead (followed by 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." + +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. + +"I see them," responded Cavanagh. "Get out your glasses and tell me who +they are." + +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." + +"Perhaps it's the sheriff after me for harboring Edwards," suggested +Cavanagh. + +But Swenson remained sober. He did not see the humor of the remark. "What +are they doing on the forest, anyhow?" he asked. + +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. + +"Good evenin', gentlemen!" called the sheriff, in Southern fashion, as he +drew near. + +"Good evenin', Mr. Sheriff," Cavanagh civilly answered. "What's the +meaning of this invasion of my forest?" + +The sheriff, for answer, presented the big stranger. "Mr. Cavanagh, this +is Mr. Simpson, the county attorney." + +Cavanagh nodded to the attorney. "I've heard of Mr. Simpson," he said. + +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?" + +"It is." + +"When did he visit you?" + +"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." + +Gregg threw in a query. "How _is_ the old man?" + +"He's all right; that is to say, he's dead. Died last night." + +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." + +"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." + +"What did Dunn tell you?" demanded the sheriff. "What names did he give +you?" + +"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?" + +"There is," replied the attorney. + +"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." + +"Quite right, Mr. Cavanagh. You may consider that request granted. Now for +the facts." + +"Before going into that, Mr. Attorney, I'd like to speak to you alone." + +"Very well, sir," replied the attorney. Then waving his hand toward the +others, he said: "Boys, just ride off a little piece, will you?" + +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." + +"I see your point," Simpson agreed. + +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." + +"Was Ballard in it?" asked Cavanagh. + +"Yes, we forced a confession from him." + +"If he was in it, it was merely for the pay. He represented some one +else." + +"What makes you think that?" + +"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." + +This seemed to surprise the attorney very much. "But he's a sheepman!" he +exclaimed. + +"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." + +"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." + +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." + +"It is possible that we may need you in order to locate some of the men +whose names you have given me." + +"Very good," replied Cavanagh. "If they come upon the forest anywhere, the +Supervisor and I will find them for you." + +So they parted, and Cavanagh and his guard resumed their slow journey +across the range. + + + + +CONCLUSION + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"I'm glad to see you, Mrs. Wetherford," Eleanor said, with the courtesy +which was instinctive with her. + +"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. + +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 _eating_. 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." + +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." + +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 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!" + +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?" + +"I was about to propose that," replied Redfield. "Shall we walk?" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +At the cabin itself Lee transferred her interest to the supper which had +been prepared for the ranger, and she 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. + +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. + +"There he is!" she exclaimed, in swift rebound to ecstasy. "Hear him +shout?" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The doctor laughed as he said: "I don't think a very sick man could come +down a mountain like that." + +"Oh, he isn't sick yet," said Redfield. "What we are afraid of is a +possible development." + +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: + +"Now, my dear girl, you and I must not interfere with the doctor. We will +start back to the house at once." + +"Not yet--not till we've seen him and talked with him," she pleaded. + +"I don't think there's a particle of danger," said the doctor, "but +perhaps you'd better not wait." + +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." + +"This is Doctor French, Ross." + +"How are you doctor? I'm not shaking hands these days." + +"Well see about that," replied the physician. + +"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." + +"I'll see to that," responded Redfield. "And now we'll leave you to the +tender mercies of the doctor." + +"I made some coffee for you, and you'll find some supper under a napkin on +the table," explained Lee. + +"Thank you." + +"I'm sorry it isn't better. It's only cold chicken and sandwiches--" + +"Only cold chicken!" he laughed. "My chief anxiety is lest it should not +prove a whole chicken. I'm hungry as a coyote!" + +"Well, now, good-night," said Redfield. "Doctor, you'll report as you go +by?" + +"Yes; expect me in half an hour or so." + +And so Lee walked away with Redfield, almost entirely relieved of her +care. "He can't be ill, can he?" she asked. + +"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." + +She did not reply to this, but walked along in silence by his side, +feeling very small, very humble, but very content. + +Lize was on the veranda. "Did he get through?" + +"He's all right so far," returned Redfield, cheerily. "We left the doctor +about to fly at him. We'll have a report soon." + +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 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." + +Mrs. Redfield thanked the doctor as fervently as if he had conferred a +personal favor upon her, and the girl echoed her grateful words. + +"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. + + * * * * * + +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. + +"Now I _know_ that I am delivered!" he exclaimed, and together they +entered upon the building of a home in the New West. + +THE END + + + + + + +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.txt or 26244.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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