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M. Bower + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Ranch at the Wolverine + +Author: B. M. Bower + +Release Date: March 19, 2009 [EBook #28356] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="Cover art" BORDER="0" WIDTH="363" HEIGHT="565"> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE RANCH AT +<BR> +THE WOLVERINE +</H1> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +By B. M. BOWER +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +Author of "The Lonesome Land," Etc. +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS +<BR> +114-120 East Twenty-third Street —— New York +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +Published by Arrangement with Little, Brown and Company +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +Copyright, 1914, +<BR> +BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. +<BR> +<I>All rights reserved</I> +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">CHAPTER</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">LET US START AT THE BEGINNING</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">A STORM AND A STRANGER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">A BOOK, A BANNOCK, AND A BED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">"OLD DAME FORTUNE'S USED ME FOR A FOOTBALL"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD AND GREETS HER NEPHEW</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">A MATTER OF TWELVE MONTHS OR SO</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">WARD HUNTS WOLVES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">HELP FOR THE COW BUSINESS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">WHEN EMOTIONS ARE BOTTLED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">THIS PAL BUSINESS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">WAS IT THE DOG?</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">THE LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">EACH IN HIS OWN TRAIL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">"YOU WON'T GET ME AGAIN"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">"I'M GOING TO TAKE YOU OUT AND HANG YOU"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">"SO-LONG, BUCK!"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">THE BRAVE BUCKAROO</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">"WE BEEN SORRY FOR YOU"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">SEVEN LEAN KINE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">THE BILLY OF HER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">BILLY LOUISE GETS A SURPRISE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">THE HOOKIN'-COUGH MAN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">THE WOLF JOKE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26">"HM-MM!"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27">MARTHY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28">ALL RIGHT AND COMFY</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +<I>The Ranch at the Wolverine</I> +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +LET US START AT THE BEGINNING +</H4> + +<P> +Four trail-worn oxen, their necks bowed to the yoke of patient +servitude, should really begin this story. But to follow the trail +they made would take several chapters which you certainly would +skip—unless you like to hear the tale of how the wilderness was tamed +and can thrill at the stern history of those who did the taming while +they fought to keep their stomachs fairly well filled with food and +their hard-muscled bodies fit for the fray. +</P> + +<P> +There was a woman, low-browed, uncombed, harsh of voice and speech and +nature, who drove the four oxen forward over lava rock and rough +prairie and the scanty sage. I might tell you a great deal about +Marthy, who plodded stolidly across the desert and the low-lying hills +along the Blackfoot; and of her weak-souled, shiftless husband whom she +called Jase, when she did not call him worse. +</P> + +<P> +They were the pioneers whose lurching wagon first forded the singing +Wolverine stream just where it greens the tiny valley and then slips +between huge lava-rock ledges to join the larger stream. Jase would +have stopped there and called home the sheltered little green spot in +the gray barrenness. But Marthy went on, up the farther hill and +across the upland, another full day's journey with the sweating oxen. +</P> + +<P> +They camped that night on another little, singing stream, in another +little valley, which was not so level or so green or so wholly pleasing +to the eye. And that night two of the oxen, impelled by a surer +instinct than their human owners, strayed away down a narrow, winding +gorge and so discovered the Cove and feasted upon its rich grasses. It +was Marthy who went after them and who recognized the little, hidden +Eden as the place of her dreams—supposing she ever had dreams. So +Marthy and Jase and the four oxen took possession, and with much labor +and many hard years for the woman, and with the same number of years +and as little labor as he could manage on the man's part, they tamed +the Cove and made it a beauty spot in that wild land. A beauty spot, +though their lives held nothing but treadmill toil and harsh words and +a mental horizon narrowed almost to the limits of the grim, gray, rock +wall that surrounded them. +</P> + +<P> +Another sturdy-souled couple came afterwards and saw the Wolverine and +made for themselves a home upon its banks. And in the rough little log +cabin was born the girl-child I want you to meet; a girl-child when she +should have been a boy to meet her father's need and great desire; a +girl-child whose very name was a compromise between the parents. For +they called her Billy for sake of the boy her father wanted, and Louise +for the girl her mother had longed for to lighten that terrible +loneliness which the far frontier brings to the women who brave its +stern emptiness. +</P> + +<P> +Do you like children? In other words, are you human? Then I want you +to meet Billy Louise when she was ten and had lived all her life among +the rocks and the sage and the stunted cedars and huge, gray hills of +Idaho. Meet her with her pink sunbonnet hanging down the back of her +neck and her big eyes taking in the squalidness of Marthy's crude +kitchen in the Cove, and her terrible directness of speech hitting +squarely the things she saw that were different from her own immaculate +home. Of course, if you don't care for children, you may skip a +chapter and meet her later when she was eighteen—but I really wish you +would consent to know her at ten. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Mommie makes cookies with a raising in the middle. She gives me two +sometimes when the Bill of me has been workin' like the deuce with dad; +one for Billy and one for Louise. When I'm twelve, Mommie's goin' to +let the Louise of me make cookies all myself and put a raising on top. +I'll put two on top of one and bring it over for you, Marthy. And—" +Billy Louise was terribly outspoken at times—"I'll put four raisings +on another one for Jase, 'cause he don't have any nice times with you. +Don't you ever make cookies with raisings on 'em, Marthy? I'm hungry +as a coyote—and I ain't used to eating just bread and the kinda butter +you have. Mom says you don't work it enough. She says you are too +scared of water, and the buttermilk ain't all worked out, so that's why +it tastes so funny. Does Jase like that kind of butter, Marthy?" +</P> + +<P> +"If your mother had to do the outside work as well as the inside, mebbe +she wouldn't work her butter so awful much, either. I dunno whether +Jase likes it or not. He eats it," Marthy stated grimly. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise sighed. "Well, of course he's awful lazy. Daddy says so. +I guess I won't put but one raising on Jase's cookie when I'm twelve. +Has Jase gone fishing again, Marthy?" +</P> + +<P> +A gleam of satisfaction brightened Marthy's hard, blue eyes. "No, he +ain't. He's in the root suller. You want some bread and some nice, +new honey, Billy Louise? I jest took it outa the hive this morning. +When you go home, I'll send some to your maw if you can carry it." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure! I can carry anything that's good. If you put it on thick, so I +can't taste the bread, I'll eat it. Say, you like me, don't you, +Marthy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Marthy, turning her back on the slim, wide-eyed girl, "I +like yuh, Billy Louise." +</P> + +<P> +"You sound like you wish you didn't," Billy Louise remarked. Even at +ten Billy Louise was keenly sensitive to tones and glances and that +intangible thing we call atmosphere. "Are you sorry you like me?" +</P> + +<P> +"No-o, I ain't sorry. A person's got to like something that's alive +and human, or—" Marthy was clumsy with words, and she was always +coming to the barrier between her powers of expression and the thoughts +that were prisoned and dumb. "Here's your bread 'n' honey." +</P> + +<P> +"What makes you sound that way, Marthy? You sound like you had tears +inside, and they couldn't get out your eyes. Are you sad? Did you +ever have a little girl, Marthy?" +</P> + +<P> +"What makes you ask that?" Marthy sat heavily down upon a box beside +the rough kitchen table and looked at Billy Louise queerly, as if she +were half afraid of her. +</P> + +<P> +"I dunno—but that's the way mommie sounds when she says something +about angel-brother. Did you ever—" +</P> + +<P> +"Billy Louise, I'm going to tell you this oncet, and then I don't want +you to ast me any more questions, nor talk about it. You're the +queerest young one I ever seen, but you don't hurt folks on +purpose—I've learnt that much about yuh." Marthy half rose from the +box, and with her dingy, patched apron shooed an investigative hen out +of the doorway. She knew that Billy Louise was regarding her fixedly +over the huge, uneven slice of bread and honey, and she felt vaguely +that a child's grave, inquiring eyes may be the hardest of all eyes to +meet. +</P> + +<P> +"I never meant—" +</P> + +<P> +"I know yuh never, Billy Louise. Now don't tell your maw this. Long +ago—long before your maw ever found you, or your paw ever found your +ranch on the Wolverine, I had a little girl, 'bout like you. She was a +purty child—her hair was like silk, and her eyes was blue, and—we was +Mormons, and we lived down clost to Salt Lake. And I seen so much +misery amongst the women-folks—you can't understand that, but mebby +you will when you grow up. Anyway, when little Minervy kep' growin' +purtyer and sweeter, I couldn't stand it to think of her growin' up and +bein' a Mormon's wife. I seen so many purty girls... So I made up my +mind we'd move away off somewheres, where Minervy could grow up jest as +sweet and purty as she was a mind to, and not have to suffer fer her +sweetness and her purtyness. When you grow up, Billy Louise, you'll +know what I mean. So me and Jase packed up—we kinda had to do it on +the sly, on account uh the bishops—and we struck out with a four-ox +team. +</P> + +<P> +"We kep' a-goin' and kep' a-goin', fer I was scared to settle too +clost. I seen how they keep spreadin' out all the time, and I wanted +to git so fur away they wouldn't ketch up. And we got into bad +country, where there wasn't no water skurcely. We swung too fur north, +and got into the desert back there. And over next them three buttes +little Minervy took sick. We tried to git outa the desert—we headed +over this way. But before we got to Snake river she—died, and I had +to leave 'er buried back there. We come on. I hated the church worse +than ever, and I wanted to git clear away from 'em. Why, Billy Louise, +we camped one night by the Wolverine, right about where your paw's got +his big corral! We didn't stay there, because it was an Injun +camping-ground then, and they wasn't no use getting mixed up in no +fuss, first thing. In them days the Injuns wasn't so peaceable as they +be now. So we come on here and settled in the Cove. +</P> + +<P> +"And so—I like yuh," said Marthy, in a tone that was half defiance, +"because I can't help likin' yuh. You're growin' up sweet and purty, +jest like I wanted my little Minervy to grow up. In some ways you +remind me of her, only she was quieter and didn't take so much notice +of things a young one ain't s'posed to notice. Now I don't want you +askin' no more questions about her, 'cause I ain't going to talk about +it ag'in; and if yuh pester me, I'll send yuh home and tell your maw to +keep yuh there. If you're the nice girl I think yuh be, you'll be good +to Marthy and not talk about—" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise opened her eyes still wider, and licked the honey off one +whole corner of the slice without really tasting anything. Marthy's +square, uncompromising chin was actually quivering. Billy Louise was +stricken dumb by the spectacle. She wanted to go and put her arms +around Marthy's neck and kiss her; only Marthy's neck had a hairy mole, +and there was no part of her face which looked in the least degree +kissable. Still, Billy Louise felt herself all hot inside with remorse +and sympathy and affection. Physical contact being impossible because +of her fastidious instincts, and speech upon the subject being so +sternly forbidden, Billy Louise continued to lick honey and stare in +fascinated silence. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll wash the dishes for you, Marthy," she offered irrelevantly at +last, as a supreme sacrifice upon the altar of sympathy. When that +failed to stop the slow procession of tears that was traveling down the +furrows of Marthy's cheeks, she added ingratiatingly: "I'll put six +raisings on the cookie I'm going to make for you." +</P> + +<P> +Whereupon Marthy did an unprecedented, an utterly amazing thing. She +got up and gathered Billy Louise into her arms so unexpectedly that +Billy Louise inadvertently buried her nose in the honey she had not yet +licked off the bread. Marthy held her close pressed to her big, flabby +bosom and wept into her hair in a queer, whimpering way that somehow +made Billy Louise think of a hurt dog. It was only for a minute that +Marthy did this; she stopped almost as suddenly as she began and went +outside, wiping her eyes and her nose impartially upon her dirty apron. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise sat paralyzed with the mixture of unusual emotions that +assailed her. She was exceedingly sticky and uncomfortable from honey +and tears, and she shivered with repugnance at the odor of Marthy's +unbathed person. She was astonished at the outburst from phlegmatic +Marthy Meilke, and her pity was now alloyed with her promise to wash +all those dirty dishes. Billy Louise felt that she had been a trifle +hasty in making promises. There was not a drop of water in the house +nor a bit of wood, and Billy Louise knew perfectly well that the +dishpan would have a greasy, unpleasant feeling under her fastidious +little fingers. +</P> + +<P> +She sighed heavily. "Well, I s'pose I might just as well get to work +at 'em," she said aloud, as was her habit—being a child who had no +playmates. "I hate to dread a thing I hate." +</P> + +<P> +She looked at the messy slice of sour bread and threw it out to the +speckled hen that had returned and was standing with one foot lifted +tentatively—ready for a forward step if the fates seemed kind—and was +regarding Billy Louise fixedly with one yellow eye. "Take it and go!" +cried the donor, impatient of the scrutiny. She picked up the wooden +pail and went down to the creek behind the house, by a pathway bordered +thickly with budding rosebushes and tall lilacs. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise first of all washed her face slowly and with a methodic +thoroughness which characterized her—having lived for ten full years +with no realization of hours and minutes as a measure for her actions. +She dried her face quite as deliberately upon her starched calico +apron. Then she spent a few minutes trying to catch a baby trout in +her cupped palms. Never had Billy Louise succeeded in catching a baby +trout in her hands; therefore she never tired of trying. Now, however, +that rash promise nagged at her and would not let her enjoy the game as +completely as usual. She took the wooden pail, and squatting on her +heels in the wet sand, waited until a small school swam incautiously +close to the bank, and scooped suddenly, with a great splash. She +caught three tiny, speckled fish the length of her little finger, and +she let the half-full pail rest in the shallow stream while she watched +the fry swimming excitedly round and round within. +</P> + +<P> +There was no great fun in that. Billy Louise could catch baby trout in +a pail at home, from the waters of the Wolverine, whenever she liked. +Many a time she had kept them in a big bottle until she tired of +watching them, or they died because she forgot to change the water +often enough. She could not get even a languid enjoyment out of them +now, because she could not for a minute forget that she had promised to +wash Marthy's dishes—and Marthy always had so many dirty dishes! And +Marthy's dishpan was so greasy! Billy Louise gave a little shudder +when she thought of it. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish her little girl hadn't died," she said, her mind swinging from +effect back to cause. "I could play with her. And she'd wash the +dishes herself. I'm going to name my new little pig Minervy. I wish +she hadn't died. I'd show her my little pig, if Marthy'd let her come +over to our place. We could both ride on old Badger; Minervy could +ride behind me, and we'd go places together." Billy Louise +meditatively stirred up the baby trout with a forefinger. "We'd go up +the canyon and have the caves for our play-houses. Minervy could have +the secret cave away up the hill, and I'd have the other one across +from it; and we'd have flags and wigwag messages like daddy tells about +in the war. And we'd play the rabbits are Injuns, and the coyotes are +big-Injun-chiefs sneaking down to see if the forts are watching. And +whichever seen a coyote first would wigwag to the other one..." A baby +trout, taking advantage of the pail tipping in the current, gave a flip +over the edge and interrupted Billy Louise's fancies. She gave the +pail a tilt and spilled out the other two fish. Then she filled it as +full as she could carry and started back to pay the price of her +sympathy. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see what Minervy had to go and die for!" she complained, +dodging a low-hanging branch of bloom-laden lilac. "She could wash the +dishes and I'd wipe 'em—and I s'pose there ain't a clean dish-towel in +the house, either! Marthy's an awful slack housekeeper." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise, being a young person with a conscience—of a sort—washed +the dishes, since she had given her word to do it. The dishpan was +even more unpleasant than experience had foretold for her; and of +Marthy's somewhat meager supply there seemed not one clean dish in the +house. The sympathy of Billy Louise therefore waned rapidly; rather, +it turned in upon itself. So that by the time she felt morally free to +spend the rest of the afternoon as she pleased, she was not at all +sorry for Marthy for having lost Minervy; instead, she was sorry for +herself for having been betrayed into rashness and for being deprived +of a playmate. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't s'pose Marthy doctored her right, at all," she considered +pitilessly, as she returned down the lilac-bordered path. "If she had, +I guess she wouldn't have died. I'll bet she never gave her a speck of +sage tea, like mommie always does when I'm sick—only I ain't ever, +thank goodness. I'm just going to ask Jase if Marthy did." +</P> + +<P> +On the way to the root cellar, which was dug into the creek-bank well +above high-water mark, Billy Louise debated within herself the ethics +of speaking to Jase upon a forbidden subject. Jase had been Minervy's +father, and therefore knew of her existence, so that mentioning Minervy +to him could not in any sense be betraying a secret. She wondered if +Jase felt badly about it, as Marthy seemed to do. On the heels of that +came the determination to test his emotional capacity. +</P> + +<P> +At the root cellar her attention was diverted. The cellar door was +fastened on the outside, with the iron hasp used to protect the store +of vegetables from the weather. Jase must be gone. She was turning +away when she heard him clear his throat with that peculiar little +hacking, rasping noise which sounded exactly as one would expect a Jase +to sound. Billy Louise puckered her eyebrows, pressed her lips +together understandingly—and disapprovingly—and opened the door. +</P> + +<P> +Jase, humped over a heap of sprouting potatoes, blinked up +apathetically into the sudden flood of sweet, spring air and sunshine. +"Why, hello, Billy Louise," he mumbled, his eyes brightening a bit. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, you was locked in here!" Billy Louise faced him puzzled. "Did +you know you was locked in?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes-s, I knowed it. Marthy, she locked the door." Jase reached out a +bony hand covered with carrot-colored hairs and picked up a shriveling +potato with long, sickly sprouts proclaiming life's persistence in +perpetuating itself under adverse circumstances. He broke off the +sprouts with a wipe of his dirty palm and threw the potato into a heap +in the corner. +</P> + +<P> +"What for?" Billy Louise demanded, watching Jase reach languidly out +for another potato. +</P> + +<P> +"She seen me diggin' bait," Jase said tonelessly. "I did think some of +ketchin' a mess of fish before I went to sproutin' p'tatoes, but Marthy +she don't take no int'rest in nothin' but work." +</P> + +<P> +"Are the fish biting good?" Billy Louise glanced toward the wider +stream, where it showed through a gap in the alders. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes-s, purty good now. I caught a nice mess the other day; but +Marthy, she don't favor my goin' fishin'." The lean hands of Jase +moved slowly at his task. Billy Louise, watching him, wondered why he +did not hurry a little and finish sooner. Still, she could not +remember ever seeing Jase hurry at anything, and the Cove with its +occupants was one of her very earliest memories. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, I'll dig some more bait, and then we'll go fishing; shall we?" +</P> + +<P> +"I—dunno as I better—" Jase's hand hovered aimlessly over the potato +pile. "I got quite a lot sprouted, though—and mebby—" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll lock you in till I get the bait dug," suggested Billy Louise +craftily. "And you work fast; and then I'll let you out, and we'll +lock the door agin, so Marthy'll think you're in there yet." +</P> + +<P> +"You're sure smart to think up things," Jase admired, smiling +loose-lipped behind his scraggly beard, that was fading with the years. +"I dunno but what it'd serve Marthy right. She ain't got no call to +lock the door on me. She hates like sin t' see me with a fish-pole in +m' hand—but she's always et her share uh the messes I ketch. She +ain't a reasonable woman, Marthy ain't. You git the bait. I'll show +Marthy who's boss in this Cove!" +</P> + +<P> +He might have encouraged himself into defying Marthy to her face, in +another five minutes of complaining. But the cellar door closed upon +him with a slam. Billy Louise was not interested in his opinion of +Marthy; with her, opinions were valueless if not accompanied by action. +</P> + +<P> +"I never thought to ask him about Minervy," occurred to her while she +was relentlessly dragging pale, fleshly fishworms from the loose black +soil of Marthy's onion bed. "But I know she was mean to Minervy. +She's awful mean to Jase—locking him up in the root cellar just 'cause +he wanted to go fishing. If I was Jase I wouldn't sprout a single old +potato for her. My goodness, but she'll be mad when she opens the +cellar door and Jase ain't in there; I—guess I'll go home early, +before Marthy finds it out." +</P> + +<P> +She really meant to do that, but the fish were hungry fish that day, +and the joy of having a companion to exclaim with her over every hard +tug—even though that companion was only Jase—enticed her to stay on +and on, until a whiff of frying pork on the breeze that swept down the +Cove warned Billy Louise of the near approach of supper-time. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess mebby I might as well go back to the suller," Jase remarked, +his defiance weakening as he climbed the bank. "You come and lock the +door agin, Billy Louise, and Marthy won't know I ain't been there all +the time. She'll think you caught the fish." He looked at her with a +weak leer of conscious cunning. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise, groping vaguely for the sunbonnet that was dangling +between her straight shoulder-blades, stared at him with wide eyes that +held disillusionment and with it a contempt all the keener because it +was the contempt of a child, whose judgment is merciless. +</P> + +<P> +"I should thing you'd be ashamed!" she said at last, forgetting that +the idea had been born in her own brain. "Cowards do things and then +sneak about it. Daddy says so. I don't care if Marthy is mad 'cause I +let you out, and I don't care if she knows we went fishing. I thought +you wanted Marthy to see she ain't so smart, locking you up in the +cellar. I ain't going to bake you a single cookie with raisings on it, +like I was going to." +</P> + +<P> +"Marthy's got a sharp tongue in 'er head," Jase wavered, his eyes +shifting from Billy Louise's uncompromising stare. +</P> + +<P> +"Daddy says when you do a thing that's mean, do it and take your +medicine," Billy Louise retorted. "The boy of me that belongs to dad +ain't a sneak, Jase Meilke. And," she added loftily, "the girl of me +that belongs to mommie is a perfeck lady. Good day, Mr. Meilke. Thank +you for a pleasant time fishing." +</P> + +<P> +Whereupon the perfect lady part switched short skirts up the path and +held a tousled head high with disdain. +</P> + +<P> +Jase, thus deserted, went shambling back to the cellar and fell to +sprouting potatoes with what might almost be termed industry. +</P> + +<P> +It pained Jase later to discover that Marthy was not interested in the +open door, but in the very small heap of potatoes which he had +"sprouted" that afternoon. There was other work to be done in the +Cove, and there were but two pairs of hands to do it; that one pair was +slow and shiftless and inefficient was bitterly accepted by Marthy, who +worked from sunrise until dark to make up for the shirking of those +other hands. +</P> + +<P> +It was the trail experience over again, and it was an experience that +dragged through the years without change or betterment. Marthy wanted +to "get ahead." Jase wanted to sit in the sun with his knees drawn up, +just—I don't know what, but I suppose he called it thinking. When he +felt unusually energetic, he liked to dangle an impaled worm over a +trout pool. Theoretically he also wanted to get ahead and to have a +fine ranch and lots of cattle and a comfortable home. He would plan +these things sometimes in an expansive mood, whereupon Marthy would +stare at him with her hard, contemptuous look until Jase trailed off +into mumbling complaints into his beard. He was not as able-bodied as +she thought he was, he would say, with vague solemnity. Some uh these +days Marthy'd see how she had driven him beyond his strength. +</P> + +<P> +When one is a Marthy, however, with ambitions and a tireless energy and +the persistence of a beaver, and when one listens to vague mutterings +for many hard laboring years, one grows accustomed to the complainings +and fails to see certain warning symptoms of which even the complainer +is only vaguely aware. +</P> + +<P> +She kept on working through the years, and as far as was humanly +possible she kept Jase working. She did not soften, except toward +Billy Louise, who rode sometimes over from her father's ranch on the +Wolverine to the flowery delights of the Cove. The place was a perfect +jungle of sweetness, seven months of each year; for Marthy owned and +indulged a love of beauty, even if she could not realize her dream of +prosperity. Wherever was space in the house-yard for a flower or a +fruit tree or a berry bush, Marthy planted one or the other. You could +not see the cabin from April until the leaves fell in late October, +except in a fragmentary way as you walked around it. You went in at a +gate of pickets which Marthy herself had split and nailed in place; you +followed a narrow, winding path through the sweet jungle—and if you +were tall, you stooped now and then to pass under an apple branch. And +unless you looked up at the black, lava-rock rim of the bluff which +cupped this Eden incongruously, you would forget that just over the +brim lay parched plain and barren mountain. +</P> + +<P> +When Billy Louise was twelve, she had other ambitions than the making +of cookies with "raisings" on them. She wanted to do something big, +though she was hazy as to the particular nature of that big something. +She tried to talk it over with Marthy, but Marthy could not seem to +think beyond the Cove, except that now and then Billy Louise would +suspect that her mind did travel to the desert and Minervy's grave. +Marthy's hair was growing streaked with yellowish gray, though it never +grew less unkempt and dusty looking. Her eyes were harder, if +anything, except when they rested on Billy Louise. +</P> + +<P> +When she was thirteen, Billy Louise rode over with a loaf of bread she +had baked all by herself, and she put this problem to Marthy: +</P> + +<P> +"I've been thinking I'd go ahead and write poetry, Marthy—a whole book +of it with pictures. But I do love to make bread—and people have to +eat bread. Which would you be, Marthy; a poet, or a cook?" +</P> + +<P> +Marthy looked at her a minute, lent her attention briefly to the +question, and gave what she considered good advice. +</P> + +<P> +"You learn how to cook, Billy Louise. Yuh don't want to go and get +notions. Your maw ain't healthy, and your paw likes good grub. Po'try +is all foolishness; there ain't any money in it." +</P> + +<P> +"Walter Scott paid his debts writing poetry," said Billy Louise +argumentatively. She had just read all about Walter Scott in a +magazine which a passing cowboy had given her; perhaps that had +something to do with her new ambition. +</P> + +<P> +"Mebby he did and mebby he didn't. I'd like to see our debts paid off +with po'try. It'd have to be worth a hull lot more 'n what I'd give +for it." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh. Have you got debts too, Marthy?" Billy Louise at thirteen was +still ready with sympathy. "Daddy's got lots and piles of 'em. He +bought some cattle and now he talks to mommie all the time about debts. +Mommie wants me to go to Boise to school, next winter, to Aunt Sarah's. +And daddy says there's debts to pay. I didn't know you had any, +Marthy." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I have got. We bought some cattle, too—and they ain't done 's +well 's they might. If I had a man that was any good on earth, I could +put up more hay. But I can't git nothing outa Jase but whines. Your +paw oughta send you to school, Billy Louise, even if he has got debts. +I'd 'a' sent—" +</P> + +<P> +She stopped there, but Billy Louise knew how she finished the sentence +mentally. She would have sent Minervy to school. +</P> + +<P> +"Your paw ain't got any right to keep you outa school," Marthy went on +aggressively. "Debts er no debts, he'd see 't you got schoolin'—if he +was the right kinda man." +</P> + +<P> +"Daddy is the right kinda man. He ain't like Jase. He says he wishes +he could, but he don't know where the money's coming from." +</P> + +<P> +"How much's it goin' to take?" asked Marthy heavily. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, piles." Billy Louise spoke airily to hide her pride in the +importance of the subject. "Fifty dollars, I guess. I've got to have +some new clothes, mommie says. I'd like a blue dress." +</P> + +<P> +"And your paw can't raise fifty dollars?" Marthy's tone was plainly +belligerent. +</P> + +<P> +"Got to pay interest," said Billy Louise importantly. +</P> + +<P> +Marthy said not another word about debts or the duties of parents. +What she did was more to the point, however, for she hitched the mules +to a rattly old buckboard next day and drove over to the MacDonald +ranch on the Wolverine. She carried fifty dollars in her pocket—and +that was practically all the money Marthy possessed, and had been saved +for the debts that harassed her. She gave the money to Billy Louise's +mother and said that it was a present for Billy Louise, and meant for +"school money." She said that she hadn't any girl of her own to spend +the money on, and that Billy Louise was a good girl and a smart girl, +and she wanted to do a little something toward her schooling. +</P> + +<P> +A woman will sacrifice more pride than you would believe, if she sees a +way toward helping her children to an education. Mrs. MacDonald took +the money, and she promised secrecy—with a feeling of relief that +Marthy wished it. She was astonished to find that Marthy had any +feelings not directly connected with work or the shortcomings of Jase, +but she never suspected that Marthy had made any sacrifice for Billy +Louise. +</P> + +<P> +So Billy Louise went away to school and never knew whose money had made +it possible to go, and Marthy worked harder and drove Jase more +relentlessly to make up that fifty dollars. She never mentioned the +matter to anyone. The next year it was the same; when, in August, she +questioned Billy Louise clumsily upon the subject of finances, and +learned that "daddy" still talked about debts and interest and didn't +know where the money was coming from, she drove over again with money +for the "schooling." And again she extracted a promise of silence. +</P> + +<P> +She did this for four years, and not a soul knew that it cost her +anything in the way of extra work and extra harassment of mind. She +bought more cattle and cut more hay and went deeper into debt; for as +Billy Louise grew older and prettier and more accustomed to the ways of +town, she needed more money, and the August gift grew proportionately +larger. The mother was thankful beyond the point of questioning. An +August without Marthy and Marthy's gift of money would have been a +tragedy; and so selfish is mother-love sometimes that she would have +accepted the gift even if she had known what it cost the giver. +</P> + +<P> +At eighteen, then, Billy Louise knew some things not taught by the wide +plains and the wild hills around her. She was not spoiled by her +little learning, which was a good thing. And when her father died +tragically beneath an overturned load of poles from the mountain at the +head of the canyon, Billy Louise came home. The Billy of her tried to +take his place, and the Louise of her attempted to take care of her +mother, who was unfitted both by nature and habit to take care of +herself. Which was, after all, a rather big thing for anyone to +attempt. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +A STORM AND A STRANGER +</H4> + +<P> +Jase began to complain of having "all-gone" feelings during the winter +after Billy Louise came home and took up the whole burden of the +Wolverine ranch. He complained to Billy Louise, when she rode over one +clear, sunny day in January; he said that he was getting old—which was +perfectly true—and that he was not as able-bodied as he might be, and +didn't expect to last much longer. Billy Louise spoke of it to Marthy, +and Marthy snorted. +</P> + +<P> +"He's able-bodied enough at mealtimes, I notice," she retorted. "I've +heard that tune ever since I knowed him; he can't fool me!" +</P> + +<P> +"Not about the all-goneness, have you?" Billy Louise was preparing to +wipe the dishes for Marthy. "I know he always had 'cricks' in +different parts of his anatomy, but I never heard about his feeling +all-gone, before. That sounds mysterious, don't you think?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; and he never had nothin' the matter with his anatomy, neither; his +anatomy's just as sound as mine. Jase was born lazy, is all ails him." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Marthy, haven't you noticed he doesn't look as well as he used +to? He has a sort of gray look, don't you think? And his eyes are so +puffy underneath, lately." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I ain't noticed nothing wrong with him that ain't always been +wrong." Marthy spoke grudgingly, as if she resented even the +possibility of Jase's having a real ailment. "He's feelin' his years, +mebby. But he ain't no call to; Jase ain't but three years older 'n I +be, and I ain't but fifty-nine last birthday. And I've worked and +slaved here in this Cove fer twenty-seven years, now; what it is I've +made it. Jase ain't ever done a hand's turn that he wasn't obliged to +do. I've chopped wood, and I've built corrals and dug ditches, and +Jase has puttered around and whined that he wasn't able-bodied enough +to do no heavy lifting. That there orchard out there I planted and +packed water in buckets to it till I got the ditch through. Them +corrals down next the river I built. I dug the post-holes, and Jase +set the posts in and held 'em steady while I tamped the dirt! In +winter I've hauled hay and fed the cattle; and Jase, he packed a bucket +uh slop, mebby, to the pigs! If he ain't as able-bodied as I be, it's +because he ain't done nothing to git strong on. He can't come around +me now with that all-gone feeling uh his; I know Jase Meilke like a +book." +</P> + +<P> +There was more that she said about Jase. Standing there, a squat, +unkempt woman with a seamed, leathery face and hard eyes now quite +faded to gray, she told Billy Louise a good deal of the bitterness of +the years behind; years of hardship and of slavish toil and no love to +lighten it. She spoke again of Minervy, and the name brought back to +Billy Louise poignant memories of her own lonely childhood and of her +"pretend" playmate. +</P> + +<P> +Half shyly, because she was still sometimes touched with the +inarticulateness of youth, Billy Louise told Marthy a little of that +playmate. "Why, do you know, every time I rode old Badger anywhere, +after that day you told me about Minervy, I used to pretend that +Minervy rode behind me. I used to talk to her by the hour and take her +places. And up our canyon is a cave that I used to play was Minervy's +cave. I had another one, and I used to go over and visit Minervy. And +I had another pretend playmate—a boy—and we used to have adventures. +It's a queer place; I just found that cave by accident. I don't +believe there's another person in the country who knows it's there at +all. Well, that's Minervy's cave to me yet. And, Marthy—" Billy +Louise giggled a little and eyed the old woman with a sidelong look +that would have set a young man's blood a-jump—"I hope you won't be +mad; I was just a kid, and I didn't know any better. But just to show +you how much I thought: I had a little pig, and I named it Minervy, +after you told me about her. And mommie told me that was no name for +it; it was—it wasn't a girl pig, mommie said. So I called it +Man-ervy, as the next best thing." She gave Marthy another wasted +glance from the corners of her eyes. "Oh, Marthy!" she cried +remorsefully, setting down the gravy bowl that she might pat Marthy on +her fat, age-rounded shoulder. "What a little beast I am! I shouldn't +have told that; but honest, I thought it was an honor. I—I just +worshiped that pig!" +</P> + +<P> +Jase maundered in at that moment, and Marthy, catching up a corner of +her dirty apron—Billy Louise could not remember ever seeing Marthy in +a perfectly clean dress or apron—wiped away what traces of emotion her +weathered face could reveal. Also, she turned and glared at Jase with +what Billy Louise considered a perfectly uncalled-for animosity. In +reality, Marthy was covertly looking for visible symptoms of the +all-goneness. She shut her harsh lips together tightly at what she +saw; Jase certainly was puffy under his watery, pink-rimmed eyes, and +the withered cheeks above his thin graying beard really did have a +pasty, gray look. +</P> + +<P> +"D' you turn them calves out into the corral?" she demanded, her voice +harder because of her secret uneasiness. +</P> + +<P> +"I was goin' to, but the wind's changed into the north, 'n' I thought +mebby you wouldn't want 'em out." Jase turned back aimlessly to the +door. His voice was getting cracked and husky, and the deprecating +note dominated pathetically all that he said. "You'll have to face the +wind goin' home," he said to Billy Louise. "More 'n likely you'll be +facin' snow, too. Looks bad, off that way." +</P> + +<P> +"You go on and turn them calves out!" Marthy commanded him harshly. +"Billy Louise ain't goin' home if it storms; I sh'd think you'd know +enough to know that." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but I'll have to go, anyway," the girl interrupted. "Mommie can't +be there alone; she'd worry herself to death if I didn't show up by +dark. She worries about every little thing since daddy died. I ought +to have gone before—or I oughtn't to have come. But she was worrying +about you, Marthy; she hadn't seen or heard of you for a month, and she +was afraid you might be sick or something. Why don't you get someone +to stay with you? I think you ought to." +</P> + +<P> +She looked toward the door, which Jase had closed upon his departure. +"If Jase should—get sick, or anything—" +</P> + +<P> +"Jase ain't goin' to git sick," Marthy retorted glumly. "Yuh don't +want to let him worry yuh, Billy Louise. If I'd worried every time he +yowled around about being sick, I'd be dead or crazy by now. I dunno +but maybe I'll have somebody to help with the work, though," she added, +after a pause during which she had swiped the dish-rag around the sides +of the pan once or twice, and had opened the door and thrown the water +out beyond the doorstep like the sloven she was. "I got a nephew that +wants to come out. He's been in a bank, but he's quit and wants to git +on to a ranch. I dunno but I'll have him come, in the spring." +</P> + +<P> +"Do," urged Billy Louise, perfectly unconscious of the potentialities +of the future. "I hate to think of you two down here alone. I don't +suppose anyone ever comes down here, except me—and that isn't often." +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody's got any call to come down," said Marthy stolidly. "They sure +ain't going to come for our comp'ny and there ain't nothing else to +bring 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, there aren't many to come, you know," laughed Billy Louise, +shaking out the dish towel and spreading it over two nails, as she did +at home. "I'm your nearest neighbor, and I've got six miles to +ride—against the wind, at that. I think I'd better start. We've got +a halfbreed doing chores for us, but he has to be looked after or he +neglects things. I'll not get another chance to come very soon, I'm +afraid; mommie hates to have me ride around much in the winter. You +send for that nephew right away, why don't you, Marthy?" It was like +Billy Louise to mix command and entreaty together. "Really, I don't +think Jase looks a bit well." +</P> + +<P> +"A good strong steepin' of sage'll fix him all right, only he ain't +sick, as I see. You take this shawl." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise refused the shawl and ran down the twisted path fringed +with long, reaching fingers of the hare berry bushes. At the stable +she stopped for an aimless dialogue with Jase and then rode away, past +the orchard whose leafless branches gave glimpses of the low, +sod-roofed cabin, with Marthy standing rather disconsolately on the +rough doorstep watching her go. +</P> + +<P> +Absently she let down the bars in the narrowest place in the gorge and +lifted them into their rude sockets after she had led her horse +through. All through the years since Marthy had gone down that rocky +gash in search of Buck and Bawley, no human being had entered or left +the Cove save through that narrow opening. The tingle of romance which +swept always the nerves of the girl when she rode that way fastened +upon her now. She wished the Cove belonged to her; she thought she +would like to live in a place like that, with warlike Indians all +around and that gorge to guard day and night. She wished she had been +Marthy, discovering that place and taming it, little by little, in +solitary achievement the sweeter because it had been hard. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a bigger thing," said Billy Louise aloud to her horse, "to make a +home here in this wilderness, than to write the greatest poem in the +world or paint the greatest picture or—anything. I wish..." +</P> + +<P> +Blue was climbing steadily out of the gorge, twitching an ear backward +with flattering attention when his lady spoke. He held it so for a +minute, waiting for that sentence to be finished, perhaps; for he was +wise beyond his kind—was Blue. But his lady was staring at the rock +wall they were passing then, where the winds and the cold and heat had +carved jutting ledges into the crude form of cabbages; though Billy +Louise preferred to call them roses. Always they struck her with a new +wonder, as if she saw them for the first time. Blue went on, calmly +stepping over this rock and, around that as if it were the simplest +thing in the world to find sure footing and carry his lady smoothly up +that trail. He threw up his head so suddenly that Billy Louise was +startled out of her aimless dreamings, and pointed nose and ears toward +the little creek-bottom above, where Marthy had lighted her camp-fire +long and long ago. +</P> + +<P> +A few steps farther, and Blue stopped short in the trail to look and +listen. Billy Louise could see the nervous twitchings of his muscles +under the skin of neck and shoulders, and she smiled to herself. +Nothing could ever come upon her unaware when she rode alone, so long +as she rode Blue. A hunting dog was not more keenly alive to his +surroundings. +</P> + +<P> +"Go on, Blue," she commanded after a minute. "If it's a bear or +anything like that, you can make a run for it; if it's a wolf, I'll +shoot it. You needn't stand here all night, anyway." +</P> + +<P> +Blue went on, out from behind the willow growth that hid the open. He +returned to his calm, picking a smooth trail through the scattered +rocks and tiny washouts. It was the girl's turn to stare and +speculate. She did not know this horseman who sat negligently in the +saddle and looked up at the cedar-grown bluff beyond, while his horse +stood knee-deep in the little stream. She did not know him; and there +were not so many travelers in the land that strangers were a matter of +indifference. +</P> + +<P> +Blue welcomed the horse with a democratic nicker and went forward +briskly. And the rider turned his head, eyed the girl sharply as she +came up, and nodded a cursory greeting. His horse lifted its head to +look, decided that it wanted another swallow or two, and lowered its +muzzle again to the water. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise could not form any opinion of the man's age or +personality, for he was encased in a wolfskin coat which covered him +completely from hatbrim to ankles. She got an impression of a thin, +dark face, and a sharp glance from eyes that seemed dark also. There +was a thin, high nose, and beyond that Billy Louise did not look. If +she had, the mouth must certainly have reassured her somewhat. +</P> + +<P> +Blue stepped nonchalantly down into the stream beside the strange horse +and went across without stopping to drink. The strange horse moved on +also, as if that were the natural thing to do—which it was, since +chance sent them traveling the same trail. Billy Louise set her teeth +together with the queer little vicious click that had always been her +habit when she felt thwarted and constrained to yield to circumstances, +and straightened herself in the saddle. +</P> + +<P> +"Looks like a storm," the fur-coated one observed, with a perfectly +transparent attempt to lighten the awkwardness. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise tilted her chin upward and gazed at the gray sweep of +clouds moving sullenly toward the mountains at her back. She glanced +at the man and caught him looking intently at her face. +</P> + +<P> +He did not look away immediately, as he should have done, and Billy +Louise felt a little heat-wave of embarrassment, emphasized by +resentment. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going far?" he queried in the same tone he had employed before. +</P> + +<P> +"Six miles," she answered shortly, though she tried to be decently +civil. +</P> + +<P> +"I've about eighteen," he said. "Looks like we'll both get caught out +in a blizzard." +</P> + +<P> +Certainly, he had a pleasant enough voice—and after all it was not his +fault that he happened to be at the crossing when she rode out of the +gorge. Billy Louise, in common justice, laid aside her resentment and +looked at him with a hint of a smile at the corners of her lips. +</P> + +<P> +"That's what we have to expect when we travel in this country in the +winter," she replied. "Eighteen miles will take you long after dark." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I was sort of figuring on putting up at some ranch, if it got +too bad. There's a ranch somewhere ahead, on the Wolverine, isn't +there?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." Billy Louise bit her lip; but hospitality is an unwritten law +of the West—a law not to be lightly broken. "That's where I live. +We'll be glad to have you stop there, of course." +</P> + +<P> +The stranger must have felt and admired the unconscious dignity of her +tone and words, for he thanked her simply and refrained from looking +too intently at her face. +</P> + +<P> +Fine siftings of snow, like meal flung down from a gigantic sieve, +swept into their faces as they rode on. The man turned his face toward +her after a long silence. She was riding with bowed head and face half +turned from him and the wind alike. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better ride on ahead and get in out of this," he said curtly. +"Your horse is fresh. It's going to be worse and more of it, before +long; this cayuse of mine has had thirty miles or so of rough going." +</P> + +<P> +"I think I'd better wait for you," she said primly. "There are bad +places where the trail goes close to the bluff, and the lava rock will +be slippery with this snow. And it's getting dark so fast that a +stranger might go over." +</P> + +<P> +"If that's the case, the sooner you are past the bad places the better. +I'm all right. You drift along." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise speculated briefly upon the note of calm authority in his +voice. He did not know, evidently, that she was more accustomed to +giving commands than to obeying them; her lips gave a little quirk of +amusement at his mistake. +</P> + +<P> +"You go on. I don't want a guide." He tilted his head peremptorily +toward the blurred trail ahead. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise laughed a little. She did not feel in the least +embarrassed now. "Do you never get what you don't want?" she asked him +mildly. "I'd a lot rather lead you past those places than have you go +over the edge," she said, "because nobody could get you up, or even go +down and bury you decently. It wouldn't be a bit nice. It's much +simpler to keep you on top." +</P> + +<P> +He said something, but Billy Louise could not hear what it was; she +suspected him of swearing. She rode on in silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Blue's a dandy horse on bad trails and in the dark," she observed +companionably at last. "He simply can't lose his footing or his way." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes? That's nice." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise felt like putting out her tongue at him, for the cool +remoteness of his tone. It would serve him right to ride on and let +him break his neck over the bluff if he wanted to. She shut her teeth +together and turned her face away from him. +</P> + +<P> +So, in silence and with no very good feeling between them, they went +precariously down the steep hill (the hill up which Marthy and the oxen +and Jase had toiled so laboriously, twenty-seven years before) and +across the tiny flat to where the cabin window winked a welcome at them +through the storm. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +A BOOK, A BANNOCK, AND A BED +</H4> + +<P> +Blue led the way straight to the low, dirt-roofed stable of logs and +stopped with his nose against the closed door. Billy Louise herself +was deceived by the whirl of snow and would have missed the stable +entirely if the leadership had been hers. She patted Blue gratefully +on the shoulder when she unsaddled him. She groped with her fingers +for the wooden peg in the wall where the saddle should hang, failed to +find it, and so laid the saddle down against the logs and covered it +with the blanket. +</P> + +<P> +"Just turn your horse in loose," she directed the man shortly. "Blue +won't fight, and I think the rest of the horses are in the other part. +And come on to the house." +</P> + +<P> +It pleased her a little to see that he obeyed her without protest; but +she was not so pleased at his silence, and she led the way rather +indignantly toward the winking eye which was the cabin's window. +</P> + +<P> +At the sound of their feet on the wide doorstep, her mother pulled open +the door and stood fair in the light, looking out with the anxious look +which had lived so long in her face that it had lines of its own +chiseled deep in her forehead and at the sides of her mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that you, Billy Louise? Oh, ain't Peter Howling Dog with you? +What makes you so terrible late, Billy Louise? Come right in, +stranger. I don't know your name, but I don't need to know it. A +storm like this is all the interduction a fellow needs, I guess." She +smiled, at that. She had a nice smile, with a little resemblance to +Billy Louise, except that the worried, inquiring look never left her +eyes; as if she had once waited long for bad news, and had met everyone +with anxious, eager questioning, and her eyes had never changed +afterwards. Billy Louise glanced at her with her calm, measuring look, +making the contrast very sharp between the two. +</P> + +<P> +"What about Peter?" she asked. "Isn't he here?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, and he ain't been since an hour or so after you left. He saddled +up and rode off down the river—to the reservation, I reckon." +</P> + +<P> +"Then the chores aren't done, I suppose." Billy Louise went over and +took a lantern down from its nail, turning up the wick so that she +could light it with the candle. "Go up to the fire and thaw out," she +invited the man. "We'll have supper in a few minutes." +</P> + +<P> +Instead he reached out and took the lantern from her as soon as she had +lighted it. "You go to the fire yourself," he said. "I'll do what's +necessary outside." +</P> + +<P> +"Why-y—" Billy Louise, her fingers still clinging to the lantern, +looked up at him. He was staring down at her with that intent look she +had objected to on the trail, but she saw his mouth, and the little +smile that hid just back of his lips. She smiled back without knowing +it. "I'll have to go along, anyway. There are cows to milk and you +couldn't very well find the cow-stable alone." +</P> + +<P> +"Think not?" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise had been perfectly furious at that tone, out on the trail. +Now that she could see his lips and their little twitching to keep back +the smile, she did not mind the tone at all. She had turned away to +get the milk pails, and now she gave him a sidelong look, of the kind +that had been utterly wasted upon Marthy. The man met it and +immediately turned his attention to the lantern wick, which needed nice +adjustment before its blaze quite pleased him; he was not a Marthy to +receive such a look unmoved. +</P> + +<P> +Together they went out again into the storm they had left so eagerly. +Billy Louise showed him where was the pitchfork and the hay, and then +did the milking while he piled full the mangers. After that they went +together and turned the shivering work horses into the stable from the +corral where they huddled, rumps to the storm; and the man lifted great +forkfuls of hay and carried it into their stalls, while Billy Louise +held the lantern high over her head like a western Liberty. They did +not talk much, except when there was need for speech; but they were +beginning to feel a little glow of companionship by the time they were +ready to fight their way against the blizzard to the house, Billy +Louise going before with the lantern, while the man followed close +behind, carrying the two pails of milk that was already freezing in +little crystals to the tin. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you get everything done? You must be half froze—and starved into +the bargin." Mrs. MacDonald, as is the way of some women who know the +weight of isolation, had a habit of talking with a nervous haste at +times, and of relapsing into long, brooding silences afterwards. She +talked now, while she pulled a pan of hot, brown biscuits from the +oven, poured the tea, and turned crisp, browned potatoes out of a +frying-pan into a deep, white bowl. She wondered, over and over, why +Peter Howling Dog had left and why he did not return. She said that +was the way, when you depended on Indians for anything. She did wish +there was a white man to be had. She asked after Marthy and Jase and +gave Billy Louise no opportunity to tell her anything. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise glanced often at the man, who did not look in the least as +she had fancied, except that he really did have a high nose and +terribly keen eyes with something behind the keenness that baffled her. +And his mouth was pleasant, especially when that smile hid just behind +his lips; also, she liked his hair, which was thick and brown, with +hints of red in it here and there, and a strong inclination to curl +where it was longest. She had known he was tall when he stepped into +the light of the door; now she saw that he was slim to the point of +leanness, with square shoulders and a nervous quickness when he moved. +His fingers were never idle; when he was not eating, he rolled bits of +biscuit into tiny, soggy balls beside his plate, or played a soft +tattoo with his fork. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't quite catch your name, mister," her mother said finally. +"But take another biscuit, anyway." +</P> + +<P> +"Warren is my name," returned the man, with that hidden smile because +she had never before given him any opportunity to tell it. "Ward +Warren. I've got a claim over on Mill Creek." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise gave a little gasp and distractedly poured two spoons of +sugar in her tea, although she hated it sweetened. +</P> + +<P> +I've got to tell you why, even at the price of digression. Long ago, +when Billy Louise was twelve or so, and lived largely in a dream world +of her own with Minervy for her "pretend" playmate, she had one day +chanced upon a paragraph in a paper that had come from town wrapped +around a package of matches. It was all about Ward Warren. The name +caught her fancy, and the text of the paragraph seized upon her +imagination. Until school filled her mind with other things, she had +built adventures without end in which Ward Warren was the central +figure. Up the canyon at the caves, she sometimes pretended that Ward +Warren had abducted Minervy and that she must lead the rescue. +Sometimes, when she rode in the hills, Ward Warren abducted her and led +her into strange places where she tried to shiver in honest dread. +Often and often, however, Ward Warren was a fugitive who came to her +for help; then she would take him to Minervy's cave and hide him, +perhaps; or she would mount her horse and lead him, by devious ways, to +safety, and upon some hilltop from which she could point out the route +he must follow, she would bid him a touching adieu and beseech him, in +the impossible language of some old romancer, to go and lead a +blameless life. Sitting there at the table opposite him, stirring the +sugar heedlessly into her tea, one favorite exhortation returned from +her dream-world, clear as if she had just spoken it aloud. "Go, and +sin no more; and if perchance you will in some distant far land send me +a kind thought, that will be reward enough for what I have done this +day. Farewell, Ward Warren—Kismet." +</P> + +<P> +The lips of Billy Louise smiled and stopped just short of laughter, and +she looked across at Ward Warren as if she expected him to laugh also +at that frightfully virtuous though stilted adieu. She found him +looking straight at her in that intent fashion that seemed as if he +would see through and all around her and her thoughts. He was not +smiling at all. His mouth was pulled into a certain bitter +understanding; indeed, he looked exactly as if Billy Louise had dealt +him a deliberate affront which he could neither parry nor fling back at +her, but must endure with what stoicism he might. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise blushed guiltily, took an unpremeditated swallow of tea, +and grimaced over the sickish sweetness of it. She got up and emptied +the tea into the slop bucket, and loitered over the refilling of the +cup so that when she returned to the table she was at least outwardly +calm. She felt another quick, keen glance from across the table, but +she helped herself composedly to the cream and listened to her mother +with flattering attention. +</P> + +<P> +"Jase has got all-gone feelings now, mommie," she remarked irrelevantly +during a brief pause and relapsed into silence again. She knew that +was good for at least five minutes of straight monologue, with her +mother in that talking mood. She finished her supper while Warren +listened abstractedly to a complete biography of the Meilkes and +learned all about Marthy's energy and Jase's shiftlessness. +</P> + +<P> +"Ward Warren!" Billy Louise was saying to herself. "Did you ever in +your life—it's exactly as if Minervy should come to life and walk in. +Ward Warren! There couldn't possibly be two Ward Warrens; it's such an +odd name. Well!" +</P> + +<P> +Then she went mentally over that paragraph. She wished she did not +remember every single word of it, but she did. And she was afraid to +look at him after that. And she wanted to, dreadfully. She felt as +though he belonged to her. Why, he was her old playmate! And she had +saved his life hundreds of times, at immense risks to herself; and he +had always been her devoted slave afterwards, and never failed to +appear at the precise moment when she was beset by Indians or robbers +or something, and in dire need. The blood he had shed in her behalf! +At that point Billy Louise startled herself and the others by suddenly +laughing out loud at the memory of one time when Ward Warren had killed +enough Indians to fill a deep washout so that he might carry her across +to the other side! +</P> + +<P> +"Is there anything funny about Jase Meilke dying, Billy Louise?" her +mother asked her in a perfectly shocked tone. +</P> + +<P> +"No—I was thinking of something else." She glanced at the man eyeing +her so distrustfully from across the table and gurgled again. It was +terribly silly, but she simply could not help seeing Ward Warren calmly +filling that washout with dead Indians so that he might carry her +across it in his arms. The more she tried to forget that, the funnier +it became. She ended by leaving the table and retiring precipitately +to her own tiny room in the lean-to where she buried her face as deep +as it would go in a puffy pillow of wild duck feathers. +</P> + +<P> +He, poor devil, could not be expected to know just what had amused her +so; he did know that it somehow concerned himself, however. He took up +his position—mentally—behind the wall of aloofness which stood +between himself and an unfriendly world, and when Billy Louise came out +later to help with the dishes, he was sitting absorbed in a book. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise got out her algebra and a slate and began to ponder the +problem of a much-handicapped goat's feeding-ground. Ward Warren read +and read and read and never looked up from the pages. Never in her +life had she seen a man read as he read; hungrily, as a starved man +eats; rapidly, his eyes traveling like a shuttle across the page; down, +down—flip a leaf quickly and let the shuttle-glance go on. Billy +Louise let her slate, with the goat problem unsolved, lie in her lap +while she watched him. When she finally became curious enough to +decipher the name of the book—she had three or four in that dull, +brown binding—and saw that he was reading <I>The Ring and the Book</I>, she +felt stunned. She read Browning just as she drank sage tea; it was +supposed to be good for her. Her English teacher had given her that +book. She never would have believed that any living human could read +it as Ward Warren was reading it now; avidly, absorbedly, lost to his +surroundings—to her own presence, if you please! Billy Louise glanced +at her mother. That lady, having discovered that her guest's gloves +needed mending, was working over them with pieces of Indian-tanned +buckskin and beeswaxed thread, the picture of domestic content. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise sighed. She shifted her chair. She got up and put a +heavy chunk of wood on the fire and glanced over her shoulder at the +man to see if he were going to take the hint and offer to help. She +came back and stood close to him while she selected, with great +deliberation, a book from the shelf beside his head. And Ward Warren, +perfectly normal and not over twenty-five or so, pushed his chair out +of her way with a purely mechanical movement, and read and read, and +actually was too absorbed to feel her nearness. And he really was +reading <I>The Ring and the Book</I>; Billy Louise was rude enough to look +over his shoulder to make sure of that. She gave up, then, and though +she picked a book at random from the shelf, she did not attempt to read +it. She went to her room and made it ready for their guest, and after +that she went to bed in her mother's room; and she thought and thought +and did a lot of wondering about Life and about Ward Warren. She heard +him go to bed, after a long while, and she wondered if he had finished +the book first. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning the blizzard raged so that he stayed as a matter of +course. Peter Howling Dog had not returned, so Warren did the chores +and would not let Billy Louise help with anything. He filled the +wood-box, piled great chunks of wood by the fireplace, and saw that the +water-pails were full to the icy brims. He talked a little, and Billy +Louise discovered that he was quick to see a joke, and that he simply +could not be caught napping, but had always a retort ready for her. +That was true until after dinner, when he picked up a book again. When +that happened, he was dead to the world bounded by the coulee walls, +and he did not show any symptoms of consciousness until he had reached +the last page, just when the light was growing dim and blurring the +lines so that he must hold the pages within six inches of his eyes. He +closed the book with a long breath, placed it accurately upon the shelf +where it had stood since Billy Louise came home from school, and picked +up his hat and gloves. It was time to wade out through the snow and +feed the stock and bring in more wood. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish we could get him to stay all winter, instead of that Peter +Howling Dog," Mrs. MacDonald said anxiously, after he had gone out. "I +just know Peter's off drinking. I don't think he's a safe man to have +around, Billy Louise. I didn't when you hired him. I haven't felt +easy a minute with him on the place. I wish you'd hire Mr. Warren, +Billy Louise. He's nice and quiet—" +</P> + +<P> +"And he's got a ranch of his own. He doesn't strike me as a man who +wants a job milking two cows and carrying slop to the pigs, mommie." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'd feel a lot easier if we had him instead of that breed; only +we ain't even got the breed, half the time. This is the third time +he's disappeared, in the two months we've had him. I really think you +ought to speak to Mr. Warren, Billy Louise." +</P> + +<P> +"Speak to him yourself. You're the one that wants him," Billy Louise +answered somewhat sharply. She adored her mother; but if she had to +run the ranch, she did wish her mother would not interfere and give +advice just at the wrong time. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you needn't be cross about it; you know yourself that Peter +can't be depended on a minute. There he went off yesterday and never +fed the pigs their noon slop, and I had to carry it out myself. And my +lumbago has bothered me ever since, just like it was going to give me +another spell. You can't be here all the time, Billy Louise—leastways +you ain't; and Peter—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, good gracious, mommie! I told you to hire the man if you want +him. Only Ward Warren isn't—" +</P> + +<P> +Ward Warren pushed open the door and looked from one to the other, his +eyes two question marks. "Isn't—what?" he asked and shut the door +behind him with the air of one who is ready for anything. +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't the kind of man who wants to hire out to do chores," Billy +Louise finished and looked at him straight. "Are you? Mommie wants to +hire you." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh. Well, I was just about to ask for the job, anyway." He laughed, +and the distrust left his eyes. "As a matter of fact, I was going over +to Jim Larson's to hang out for the rest of the winter and get away +from the lonesomeness of the hills. The old Turk's a pretty good +friend of mine. But it looks to me as if you two needed something +around that looks like a man a heap more than Jim does. I know Peter +Howling Dog to a fare-you-well; you'll be all to the good if he forgets +to come back. So if you'll stake me to a meal now and then, and a +place to sleep, I'll be glad to see you through the winter—or until +you get some white man to take my place." He took up the two +water-pails and waited, glancing from one to the other with that +repressed smile which Billy Louise was beginning to look for in his +face. +</P> + +<P> +Now that matters had approached the point of decision, her mother stood +looking at her helplessly, waiting for her to speak. Billy Louise drew +herself up primly and ended by contradicting the action. She gave him +the sidelong glance which he was least prepared to withstand—though in +justice to Billy Louise, she was absolutely unconscious of its general +effectiveness—and twisted her lips whimsically. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll stake you to a book, a bannock, and a bed if you want to stay, +Mr. Warren," she said quite soberly. "Also to a pitchfork and an axe, +if you like, and regular wages." +</P> + +<P> +His eyes went to her and steadied there with the intent expression in +them. "Thanks. Cut out the wages, and I'll take the offer just as it +stands," he told her and pulled his hat farther down on his head. +"She's going to be one stormy night, lay-dees," he added in quite +another tone, on his way to the door. "Five o'clock by the town clock, +and al-ll's well!" This last in still another tone, as he pushed out +against the swooping wind and pulled the door shut with a slam. They +heard him whistling a shrill, rollicking air on his way to the creek; +at least, it sounded rollicking, the way he whistled it. +</P> + +<P> +"That's <I>The Old Chisholm Trail</I> he's whistling," Billy Louise observed +under her breath, smiling reminiscently. "The very song I used to +pretend he always sang when he came down the canyon to rescue Minervy +and me! But of course—I knew all the time he's a cowboy; it said so—" +</P> + +<P> +The whistling broke and he began to sing at the top of a clear, +strong-lunged voice, that old, old trail song beloved of punchers the +West over: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Oh, it's cloudy in the West and a-lookin' like rain,<BR> +And my damned old slicker's in the wagon again,<BR> +Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a,<BR> +Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"What did you say, Billy Louise? I'm sure it's a comfort to have him +here, and you see he was glad and willing—" +</P> + +<P> +But Billy Louise was holding the door open half an inch, listening and +slipping back into the child-world wherein Ward Warren came singing +down the canyon to rescue her and Minervy. The words came gustily from +the creek down the slope: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"No chaps, no slicker, and a-pourin' down rain,<BR> +And I swear by the Lord I'll never night-herd again,<BR> +Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a,<BR> +Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Feet in the stirrups and seat in the saddle,<BR> +I hung and rattled with them long-horn cattle,<BR> +Coma ti yi—"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Do shut the door, Billy Louise! What you want to stand there like +that for? And the wind freezing everything inside! I can feel a +terrible draught on my feet and ankles, and you know what that leads +to." +</P> + +<P> +So Billy Louise closed the door and laid another alder root on the +coals in the fireplace, the while her mind was given over to dreamy +speculations, and the words of that old trail song ran on in her memory +though she could no longer hear him singing. Her mother talked on +about Peter and the storm and this man who had ridden straight from the +land of daydreams to her door, but the girl was not listening. +</P> + +<P> +"Now ain't you relieved, yourself, that he's going to stay?" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise, kneeling on the hearth and staring abstractedly into the +fire, came back with a jerk to reality. The little smile that had been +in her eyes and on her lips fled back with the dreams that had brought +it. She gave her shoulders an impatient twitch and got up. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh—I guess he'll be more agreeable to have around than Peter," she +admitted taciturnly; which was as close to her real opinion of the man +as a mere mother might hope to come. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +"OLD DAME FORTUNE'S USED ME FOR A FOOTBALL" +</H4> + +<P> +Ward Warren sat before the fireplace with a cigarette long gone cold in +his fingers and stared into the blaze until the blaze died to +bright-glowing coals, and the coals filmed and shrank down into the bed +of ashes. Billy Louise had spoken to him twice, and he had not +answered. She had swept all around him, and he had shifted his feet +out of her way, and later his chair, like a man in his sleep who turns +from an unaccustomed light or draws the covers over shoulders growing +chilled, without any real consciousness of what he does. Billy Louise +put away the broom, hung the dustpan on its nail behind the door, and +stood looking at Ward curiously and with some resentment; this was not +the first time he had gone into fits of abstraction as deep as his +absorption in the books he read so hungrily. He had been at the +Wolverine a month, and they were pretty well acquainted by now and +inclined to friendliness when Ward threw off his moodiness and his air +of holding himself ready for some affront which he seemed to expect. +But for all that the distrust never quite left his eyes, and there were +times like this when he was absolutely oblivious to her presence. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise suddenly lost patience. She stooped and picked up a bit +of bark the size of her thumb and threw it at Ward, with a little, +vexed twist of her lips. She had a fine accuracy of aim—she hit him +on the nape of the neck, just where his hair came down in a queer +little curly "cow-lick" in the middle. +</P> + +<P> +Ward jumped up and whirled, and when he faced Billy Louise he had a gun +gripped in the fingers that had held the cigarette so loosely. In his +eyes was the glare which a man turns upon his deadliest enemy, perhaps, +but seldom indeed upon a girl. So they faced each other, while Billy +Louise backed against the wall and took two sharp breaths. +</P> + +<P> +Ward relaxed; a shamed flush reddened his whole face. He shoved the +gun back inside the belt of his trousers—Billy Louise had never +dreamed that he carried any weapon save his haughty aloofness of +manner—and with a little snort of self-disgust dropped back into the +chair. He did not stare again into the fire, however; he folded his +arms upon the high chairback and laid his face down upon them, like a +woman who is hurt to the point of tears and yet will not weep. His +booted feet were thrust toward the dying coals, his whole attitude +spoke of utter desolation—of a loneliness beyond words. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise set her teeth hard together to keep back the tears of +sympathy. Suffering of any sort always wrung the tender heart of her. +But suffering like this—never in her life had she seen anything like +it. She had seen her father angry, discouraged, morose. She had seen +men fight. She had soothed her mother's grief, which expressed itself +in tears and lamentations. But this hidden hurt, this stoical +suffering that she had seen often and often in Ward's eyes and that +sent his head down now upon his arms— She went to him and laid her +two hands on his shoulders without even thinking that this was the +first time she had ever touched him. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't!" she said, half whispering so that she would not waken her +mother, in bed with an attack of lumbago. "I—I didn't know. Ward, +listen to me! Whatever it is, can't you tell me? You—I'm your +friend. Don't look as if you—you hadn't a friend on earth!" +</P> + +<P> +Still he did not move or give any sign that he heard. Billy Louise had +no thought of coquetry. Her heart ached with pity and a longing to +help him. She slid one hand up and pinched his ear, just as she would +playfully tweak the ear of a child. +</P> + +<P> +"Ward, you mustn't. I've seen you think and think and look as if you +hadn't a friend on earth. You mustn't. I suppose you've got lots of +friends who'd stand by you through anything. Anyway, you've got me, +and—I understand all about it." She whispered those last words, and +her heart thumped heavily with trepidation after she had spoken. +</P> + +<P> +Ward raised his head, caught one of her hands and held it fast while he +looked deep into her eyes. He was searching, questioning, measuring, +and he was doing it without uttering a word. The plummet dropped +straight into the clear, sweet depths of her soul. If it did not reach +the bottom, he was satisfied with the soundings he took. He drew a +deep breath and gave her hand a little squeeze and let it go. +</P> + +<P> +"Did I scare you? I'm sorry," he said, speaking in a hushed tone +because of the woman in the next room. "I was thinking about a man I +may meet some day; and if I do meet him, the chances are I'll kill him. +I—didn't—I forgot where I was—" He threw out a hand in a gesture +that amply completed explanation and apology and fumbled in his pocket +for tobacco and papers. Abstractedly he began the making of a +cigarette. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise put wood on the fire, pulled up a square, calico-padded +stool, and sat down. She waited, and she had the wisdom to wait in +complete silence. +</P> + +<P> +Ward leaned forward with a twig in his hand, got it ablaze, and lighted +his cigarette. He did not look at Billy Louise until he had taken a +whiff or two. Then he stared at her for a full minute, and ended by +flipping the charred twig playfully into her lap, and laughing a little +because she jumped. +</P> + +<P> +"What made you catch your breath when I told my name that night I +came?" he asked quizzically, but with a tensity behind the lightness of +his tone and behind the little smile in his eyes as well. "Where had +you ever heard of me before?" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise gasped again, sent a lightning-thought into the future, +and answered more casually than she had hoped she could. +</P> + +<P> +"When I was a kid I ran across the name—somewhere—and I used it to +play with—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes?" +</P> + +<P> +"You know—I was always making believe different things. I never had +anyone to play with in my life, so I had a pretend-girl, named Minervy. +And I had you. I used to have you rescue us from Indians and things, +but mostly you were a road-agent or a robber, and when you weren't +holding me or Minervy for ransom, I was generally leading you over some +most ungodly trails, saving you from posses and things. I used," said +Billy Louise, forcing a laugh, "to have some wild old times with you, +believe me! So when you told your name, why—it was just like—you +know; it was exactly like having a doll come to life!" +</P> + +<P> +He eyed her fixedly until she tingled with nervousness. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—and what about—understanding all about it? Do you?" He drew in +his under lip, let it go, and drew it again between his teeth, while he +frowned at her thoughtfully. "Do you understand all about it?" he +insisted, leaning toward her and never once taking that boring gaze +from her face. +</P> + +<P> +"I—well, I—do—some of it anyway." Billy Louise lifted a hand +spasmodically to her throat. This was digging deeper into the agonies +of life than she had ever gone before. "What was in the paper," she +whispered later, as if his eyes were drawing it from her by force. +</P> + +<P> +"What was that? What did it say?" +</P> + +<P> +"I—I—what difference does it make, what it said?" Billy Louise +turned imploring eyes upon him. Her breath was coming fast and uneven. +"It doesn't matter—to me—in the least. It—didn't say much. +I—can't tell exactly—" She was growing white around the mouth. The +horror of being compelled to say, out loud—and to him! +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know there was a woman in the world like you," Ward said +irrelevantly and looked into the fire. "I thought women were just soft +things a man had to take care of and carry along through life, a dead +weight when they weren't worse. I never knew a woman could be a +friend—the kind of friend a man can be." He threw his cigarette into +the fire and watched the paper shrivel swiftly and the tobacco turn +into a thin, blue smoke-spiral. +</P> + +<P> +"Life's a queer thing," he said, taking a different angle. "I started +out with big notions about the things I'd do. Maybe I started wrong, +but for a kid with nobody to point the trail for him, I don't think I +did so worse—till old Dame Fortune spotted me in the crowd and +proceeded to use me for a football." He leaned an elbow on one knee +and stared hard at a burning brand that was getting ready to fall and +send up a stream of sparks. Then he turned his head quite unexpectedly +and looked at Billy Louise. "What was it you read?" he asked abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +"I—don't like to—say it," she whispered unsteadily. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you needn't. I'll say it for you, when I come to it. There's a +lot before that." +</P> + +<P> +Ward Warren had never before opened his soul to any human; not +completely. Perhaps, sitting that evening in the deepening dusk, with +the firelight lighting swiftly the brooding face of the girl and +afterward veiling it softly with shadows, perhaps even then there were +desolate places in his life which his words did not touch. But so much +as a man may put into words, Ward told her; more, a great deal more, +than he would ever tell to any other woman as long as he lived. More +perhaps than he would ever tell to any man. And in it all there was no +word of love. It was of what lay behind him that he talked. The low, +even murmur of his voice was broken by long, brooding silences, when +the two stared into the shifting flames and saw there the things his +words had conjured. Sometimes the eyes of Billy Louise were soft with +sympathy. Sometimes they were wide and held the light of horror. +Once, with a small sob that had no tears, she reached out and clutched +his arm. "Oh, don't!" she gasped. "Don't go on telling—I—I can't +bear to listen to that!" +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't nice for a woman to listen to, I guess," Ward gritted. "I +know it was hell to stand, but—" He was silent so long after that, +and his eyes grew so intent and so somber while he stared, that Billy +Louise pulled at his sleeve to recall him. +</P> + +<P> +"Skip that part and tell me—" +</P> + +<P> +Ward took up the story and told her much; more than she had ever +dreamed could be. I can't repeat any of it; what he said was for Billy +Louise to know and none other. +</P> + +<P> +It was late when she finally rose from the stool and lighted the lamp +because her mother woke and called to her. Ward went out to turn the +horses into the stable and fasten the door. He should have sheltered +them two hours before. Billy Louise should long ago have made tea and +toast for her mother, for that matter. But when life's big, bitter +problems confront one, little things are usually forgotten. +</P> + +<P> +They came back to everyday realities, though the spell which Ward's +impulsive unburdening had woven still wrapped them in that close +companionship of complete understanding. They played checkers for an +hour or so and then went to bed. Billy Louise lay in a waking +nightmare because of all the hard things she had heard about life. +Ward stared up into the dark and could not lose himself in sleep, +because he had opened the door upon the evil places in his memory and +let out all the trooping devils that lived there. +</P> + +<P> +After that, though there was never any word of love between them, Billy +Louise, with the sure instinct of a woman innately pure, watched +unobtrusively for signs of those fits of bitter brooding; watched and +drove them off with various weapons of her own. Sometimes she +cheerfully declared that she was bored to death, and wasn't Ward just +dying for a game of "rob casino"? Sometimes she simply teased him into +retaliation. Frequently she insisted that he repeat the things he had +learned by heart, of poetry or humorous prose, for his memory was +almost uncanny in its tenacity. She discovered quite early, and by +accident, that she had only to shake her head in a certain way and +declaim: "Ah, Tam, noo, Tam, thou'lt get thy faring—In hell they'll +roast thee like a herring,"—she had only to say that to make him laugh +and repeat the whole of <I>Tam O'Shanter's Ride</I> with a perfectly +devilish zest for poor Tam's misfortunes, and an accent which made her +suspect who were his ancestors. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise meant only to wean him from his bitterness against Life, +and to convince him, by a somewhat roundabout method since at heart she +was scared to death of his aloofness, that he was not "old lady +Fortune's football" as he sometimes pessimistically declared. At +thirteen she had mixed him with her dreams and led him by difficult +trails to safety from the imaginary enemies that pursued him. At +nineteen she unconsciously mixed him with her life and led him—more +surely than in her dreams, and by a far more difficult trail, had she +only known it—safe away from the devils of memory and a distrust of +life that pursued him more relentlessly than any human foe. +</P> + +<P> +She only meant to wean him from pessimism and rebuild within him a +healthy appetite for life. If she did more than that, she did not know +it then; for Ward Warren had learned, along with other hard lessons, +the art of keeping his thoughts locked safely away, and of using his +face as a mask to hide even the doorway to his real self. Only his +eyes turned traitors sometimes when he looked at Billy Louise; though +she, being a somewhat self-centered young person, never quite read what +they tried to betray. +</P> + +<P> +She took him up the canyon and showed him her cave and Minervy's. And +she had the doubtful satisfaction of seeing him doubled over the +saddle-horn in a paroxysm of laughter when she led him to the +historical washout and recounted the feat of the dead Indians with +which he had made a safe passing for her. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, they did it in history," she defended at last, her cheeks redder +than was perfectly normal. "I read about it—at Waterloo when the Duke +of Wellington—wasn't it? You needn't laugh as if it couldn't be done. +It was that sunken-road business put it into my head in the first +place; and I think you ought to feel flattered." +</P> + +<P> +"I do," gasped Ward, wiping his eyes. "Say, I was some bandit, wasn't +I, William Louisa?" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise looked at him sidewise. "No, you weren't any bandit at +all—then. You were a kind scout, that time. I was here, all +surrounded by Indians and saying the Lord's prayer with my hair all +down my back like mommie's Rock of Ages picture—will you shut up +laughing?—and you came riding up that draw over there on a big, black +horse named Sultan (You needn't snort; I still think Sultan's a dandy +name for a horse!). And you hollered to me to get behind that rock, +over there. And I quit at 'Forgive us our debts'—daddy always had so +many!—and hiked for the rock. And you commenced shooting— Oh, I'm +not going to tell you a single other pretend!" She sulked then, which +was quite as diverting as the most hair-raising "pretend" she had ever +told him and held Ward's attention unflaggingly until they were half +way home. +</P> + +<P> +"Sing the <I>Chisholm Trail</I>," she commanded, when her temper was +sunshiny again. This had been a particularly moody day for Ward, and +Billy Louise felt that extra effort was required to rout the +memory-devils. "Daddy knew a little of it, and old Jake Summers used +to sing more, but I never did hear it all." +</P> + +<P> +"Ladies don't, as a general thing," Ward replied, biting his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Why? I know there's about forty verses, and some of them are kind of +sweary ones; but go ahead and sing it. I don't mind damn now and then." +</P> + +<P> +This sublime innocence was also diverting, even to a man haunted by the +devils of memory. Ward's lips twitched, and a flush warmed his +cheek-bones at the mere thought of singing it all in her presence. +"I'll sing all of <I>Sam Bass</I>, if you like," he temporized, with a grin. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I hate <I>Sam Bass</I>! We had a Dutchman working for us when I was +just a kid, and he was forever bawling out: 'Sa-am Pass was porn in +Injiany, it was-s hiss natiff ho-o-ome!'" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise was a pretty good mimic. She had Ward doubled over the +horn again and shouting so that the canyon walls roared echoes for +three full minutes. "I've always wanted to hear the <I>Chisholm Trail</I>. +I know how it was sung from Mexico north on the old cattle-trails, and +how every ambitious puncher who had enough imagination and could make a +rhyme, added a verse or so, till it's really a—a classic of the +cow-camps." +</P> + +<P> +"Ye-es—it sure is all that." Ward eyed her furtively. +</P> + +<P> +"And with that memory of yours, I simply know that you can sing every +single word of it," Billy Louise went on pitilessly—and innocently. +"You're a cowpuncher yourself, and you must have heard it all, at one +time and another; and I don't believe you ever forgot a thing in your +life." She caught her breath there, conscience-stricken, and added +hastily and imperiously, "So go on—begin at the beginning and sing it +all. I'll keep tab and see if you sing forty verses." And she +prompted coaxingly: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Come along, boys, and listen to my tale,<BR> +I'll tell you of my troubles on the old Chisholm trail,<BR> +Coma ti yi—"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +and nodded her head approvingly when Ward took up the ditty where she +left off and sang it with the rollicking enthusiasm which only a man +who has soothed restless cattle on a stormy night can put into the +doggerel. +</P> + +<P> +He did not sing the whole forty verses, for good and sufficient reasons +best known to punchers themselves. But, with swift, shamed skipping of +certain lines and some hasty revisions, he actually did sing thirty, +and Billy Louise was so engrossed that she forgot to count them and +never suspected the omissions; for some of the verses were quite +"sweary" enough to account for his hesitation. +</P> + +<P> +The singing of those thirty verses brought a reminiscent mood upon the +singer. For the rest of the way, which they rode at a walk, Ward sat +very much upon one side of the saddle, with his body facing Billy +Louise and his foot dangling free of the stirrup, and told her tales of +trail-herds, and the cow-camps, and of funny things that had happened +on the range. His "I remember one time" opened the door to a more +fascinating world than Billy Louise's dream-world, because this other +world was real. +</P> + +<P> +So, from pure accident, she hit upon the most effective of all weapons +with which to fight the memory-devils. She led Ward to remembering the +pleasanter parts of his past life and to telling her of them. +</P> + +<P> +When spring came at last, and he rode regretfully back to his claim on +Mill Greek, he was not at all the morose Ward Warren who had ridden +down to the Wolverine that stormy night in January. The distrust had +left his eyes, and that guarded remoteness was gone from his manner. +He thought and he planned as other men thought and planned, and looked +into the future eagerly, and dreamed dreams of his own; dreams that +brought the hidden smile often to his lips and his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Still, the thing those dreams were built upon was yet locked tight in +his heart, and not even Billy Louise, whose instinct was so keen and so +sure in all things else, knew anything of them or of the bright-hued +hope they were built upon. Fortune's football was making ready to +fight desperately to become captain of the game, that he might be +something more to Billy Louise. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD AND GREETS HER NEPHEW +</H4> + +<P> +Jase did not move or give his customary, querulous grunt when Marthy +nudged him at daylight, one morning in mid-April. Marthy gave another +poke with her elbow and lay still, numbed by a sudden dread. She moved +cautiously out of the bed and half across the cramped room before she +turned her head toward him. Then she stood still and looked and +looked, her hard face growing each moment more pinched and stony and +gray. +</P> + +<P> +Jase had died while the coyotes were yapping their dawn-song up on the +rim of the Cove. He lay rigid under the coarse, gray blanket, the +flesh of his face drawn close to the bones, his skimpy, gray beard +tilted upward. +</P> + +<P> +Marthy's jaw set into a harsher outline than ever. She dressed with +slow, heavy movements and went out and fed the stock. In stolid calm +she did the milking and turned out the cows into the pasture. She +gathered an apron full of chips and started a fire, just as she had +done every morning for twenty-nine years, and she put the coffee-pot on +the greasy stove and boiled the brew of yesterday—which was also her +habit. +</P> + +<P> +She sat for some time with her head leaning upon her grimy hand and +stared unseeingly out upon a peach-tree in full bloom, and at a pair of +busy robins who had chosen a convenient crotch for their nest. Finally +she rose stiffly, as if she had grown older within the last hour, and +went outside to the place where she had been mending the irrigating +ditch the day before; she knocked the wet sand off the shovel she had +left sticking in the soft bank and went out of the yard and up the +slope toward the rock wall. +</P> + +<P> +On a tiny, level place above the main ditch and just under the wall, +Marthy began to dig, setting her broad, flat foot uncompromisingly upon +the shoulder of the shovel and sending it deep into the yellow soil. +She worked slowly and methodically and steadily, just as she did +everything else. When she had dug down as deep as she could and still +manage to climb out, and had the hole wide enough and long enough, she +got awkwardly to the grassy surface and sat for a long while upon a +rock, staring dumbly at the gaunt, brown hills across the river. +</P> + +<P> +She returned to the cabin at last, and with the manner of one who +dreads doing what must be done, she went in where Jase lay stiff and +cold under the blankets. +</P> + +<P> +Early that afternoon, Marthy went staggering up the slope, wheeling +Jase's body before her on the creaky, home-made wheelbarrow. In the +same harsh, primitive manner in which they both had lived, Marthy +buried her dead. And though in life she had given him few words save +in command or upbraiding, with never a hint of love to sweeten the days +for either, yet she went whimpering away from that grave. She broke +off three branches of precious peach blossoms and carried them up the +slope. She stuck them upright in the lumpy soil over Jase's head and +stood there a long while with tear-streaked face, staring down at the +grave and at the nodding pink blossoms. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Billy Louise rode singing down the rocky trail through the deep, narrow +gorge, to where the hawthorn and choke-cherries hid the opening to the +cove. Just on the edge of the thickest fringe, she pulled up and broke +off tender branches of cherry bloom, then went on, still singing softly +to herself because the air was sweet with spring odors, the sunshine +lay a fresh yellow upon the land, and because the joy of life was in +her blood and, like the birds, she had no other means of expression at +hand. Blue's feet sank to the fetlocks in the rich, black soil of the +little meadow that lay smooth to the tumbling sweep of the river behind +its own little willow fringe. His ears perked forward, his eyes +rolling watchfully for strange sights and sounds, he stepped softly +forward, ready to wheel at the slightest alarm and gallop back up the +gorge to more familiar ground. It was long since Billy Louise had +turned his head down the rocky trail, and Blue liked little the gloom +of the gorge and the sudden change to soft, black soil that stopped +just short of being boggy in the wet places. Where the trail led into +a marshy crossing of the big, irrigating ditch that brought the stream +from far up the gorge to water meadow and orchard, Blue halted and cast +a look of disapproval back at his rider. Billy Louise stopped singing +and laughed at him. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess you can go where a cow can go, you silly thing. Mud's a heap +easier than lava rock, if you only knew it, Blue. Get along with you." +</P> + +<P> +Blue lowered his head, snuffed suspiciously at the water-filled tracks, +and would have turned back. Mud he despised instinctively, since he +had nearly mired on the creek bank when he was a sucking colt. +</P> + +<P> +"Blue! Get across that ditch, or I'll beat you to death!" The voice +of Billy Louise was soft with a caressing note at the end, so that the +threat did not sound very savage, after all. She sniffed at the branch +of cherry blossoms and reined the horse back to face the ditch. And +Blue, who had a will of his own, snorted and wheeled, this time in +frank rebellion against her command. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, will you? Well, you'll cross that ditch, you know, sooner or +later—so you might just as well—" Blue reared and whirled again, +plunging two rods back toward the cherry thicket. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise set her teeth against her lower lip, slid her rawhide +quirt from slim wrist to firm hand-grip, and proceeded to match Blue's +obstinacy with her own; and since the obstinacy of Billy Louise was +stronger and finer and backed by a surer understanding of the thing she +was fighting against, Blue presently lifted himself, leaped the ditch +in one clean jump, and snorted when he sank nearly to his knees in the +soft, black soil beyond. +</P> + +<P> +From there to the pink drift of peach bloom against the dull brown of +the bluff, Blue galloped angrily, leaving deep, black prints in the +soft green of the meadow. So they came headlong upon Marthy, just as +she was knocking the yellow clay of the grave from her irrigating +shovel against the pole fence of her pig-pen. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Marthy!" Once before in her life Billy Louise had seen Marthy's +chin quivering like that, and big, slow tears sliding down the network +of lines on Marthy's leathery cheeks. With a painful slump her spirits +went heavy with her sympathy. "Marthy!" +</P> + +<P> +She knew without a word of explanation just what had happened. From +Marthy's bent shoulders she knew, and from her tear-stained face, and +from the yellow soil clinging still to the shovel in her hand. The +wide eyes of Billy Louise sent seeking glances up the slope where the +soil was yellow; went to the long, raw ridge under the wall, with the +peach blossoms standing pitifully awry upon the western end. Her eyes +filled with tears. "Oh, Marthy! When was it?" +</P> + +<P> +"In the night, sometime, I guess." Marthy's voice had a harsh +huskiness. "He was—gone—when I woke up. Well—he's better off than +I be. I dunno what woulda become of him if I'd went first." There, at +last, was a note of tenderness, stifled though it was and fleeting. +"Git down, Billy Louise, and come in. I been kinda lookin' for yuh to +come, ever sence the weather opened up. How's your maw?" +</P> + +<P> +Spoken sympathy was absolutely impossible in the face of that stoical +acceptance of life's harsh law. Marthy turned toward the gate, taking +the shovel and the wheelbarrow in with her. Billy Louise glanced +furtively at the raw, yellow ridge under the rock wall and rode on to +the stable. She pulled off the saddle and bridle and turned Blue into +the corral before she went slowly—and somewhat reluctantly—to the +cabin, squat, old, and unkempt like its mistress, but buried deep in +the renewed sweetness of bloom-time. +</P> + +<P> +"The fruit's comin' on early this year," said Marthy from the doorway, +her hands on her hips. "They's goin' to be lots of it, too, if we +don't git a killin' frost." So she closed the conversational door upon +her sorrow and pointed the way to trivial, every-day things. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do now, Marthy?" Billy Louise was perfectly +capable of opening a conversational door, even when it had been closed +decisively in her face. "You can't get on here alone, you know. Did +you send for that nephew? If you haven't, you must hire somebody +till—" +</P> + +<P> +"He's comin'. That letter you sent over last month was from him. I +dunno when he'll git here; he's liable to come most any time. I ain't +going to hire nobody. I kin git along alone. I might as well of been +alone—" Even harsh Marthy hesitated and did not finish the sentence +that would have put a slight upon her dead. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll stay to-night, anyway," said Billy Louise. "Just a week ago I +hired John Pringle and that little breed wife of his for the summer. I +couldn't afford it," she added, with a small sigh, "but Ward had to go +back to his claim, and mommie needs someone in the house. She hasn't +been a bit well, all winter. And I've turned all the stock out for the +summer and have to do a lot of riding on them; it's that or let them +scatter all over the country and then have to hire a rep for every +round-up. I can't afford that, I haven't got cattle enough to pay; and +I like to ride, anyway. I've got them pretty well located along the +creek, up at the head of the canyons. The grass is coming on fine, so +they don't stray much. Are you going to turn your cattle out, Marthy? +I see you haven't yet." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I ain't yit. I dunno. I was going to sell 'em down to jest what +the pasture'll keep. I'm gittin' too old to look after 'em. But I +dunno— When Charlie gits here, mebby—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, is that the nephew? I didn't know his name." Billy Louise was +talking aimlessly to keep her thoughts away from the pitifulness of the +sordid little tragedy in this beauty-spot and to drive that blank, +apathetic look from Marthy's hard eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Charlie Fox, his name is. I hope he turns out a good worker. I've +never had a chance to git ahead any; but if Charlie'll jest take holt, +I'll mebby git some comfort outa life yit." +</P> + +<P> +"He ought, to, I'm sure. And everyone thinks you've done awfully well, +Marthy. What can I do now? Wash the dishes and straighten things up, +I guess." +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't do nothin' you ain't a mind to do, Billy Louise. I don't +want you to think you got to slop around washin' my dirty dishes. I'm +goin' on down into the medder and work on a ditch I'm puttin' in. You +jest do what you're a mind to." She picked up the shovel and went off +down the jungly path, herself the ugliest object in the Cove, where she +had created so much beauty. +</P> + +<P> +Again the sympathetic soul of Billy Louise had betrayed her into +performing an extremely disagreeable task. Shudderingly she looked +into the unpleasant bedroom, and comprehending all of the sordidness of +the tragedy, spent half an hour with her teeth set hard together while +she dragged out dingy blankets and hung them over the fence under a +voluptuous plum-tree. The next hour was so disagreeably employed that +she wondered afterward how even her sympathy could have driven her to +the things she did. She carried more water, after she had scrubbed +that bedroom, and opened the window with the aid of the hammer, and set +the tea-kettle on to heat the dish-water. Then, because her mind was +full of poor, dead Jase, she took the branches of wild cherry and +hawthorn blossoms she had gathered coming down the gorge and went up +the slope to lay them on his grave. +</P> + +<P> +She sat down on the rock where Marthy had rested after digging the +grave, and with her chin in her two cupped palms, stared out across the +river at the heaped bluffs and down at the pink-and-white patch of +fruit-trees. She was trying, as the young will always try, to solve +the riddle of life; and she was baffled and unhappy because she could +not find any answer at all that pleased both her ideals and her reason. +And then she heard a man's voice lifted up in riotous song, and she +turned her head toward the opening of the gorge and listened, her eyes +brightening while she waited. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn,<BR> +Best damn cowboy ever was born,<BR> +Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a,<BR> +Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Billy Louise, with her chin still in her palms, smiled and hummed the +tune under her breath; that shows how quickly we throw off the burdens +of our neighbors. "Wonder what he's doing down here?" she asked +herself, and smiled again. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I'll sell my outfit soon as I can,<BR> +I won't punch cattle for no damn' man,<BR> +Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a,<BR> +Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I'm goin' back to town to draw my money,<BR> +I'm going back to town to see my honey,<BR> +Coma ti yi—"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Ward came into sight through the little meadow, riding slowly, with +both hands clasped over the horn of the saddle, his hat tilted back on +his head, and his whole attitude one of absolute content with life. He +saw Billy Louise almost as soon as she glimpsed him—and she had been +watching that bit of road quite closely. He flipped the reins to one +side and turned from the trail to ride straight up the slope to where +she was. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise, with a self-reproachful glance at the grave, ran down the +slope to meet him—an unexpected welcome which made Ward's heart leap +in his chest. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Ward, for heaven's sake don't be singing that come-all-ye at the +top of your voice, like that. Don't you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Now I was given to understand that you liked that same come-all-ye. +Have you been educating your musical taste in the last week, Miss +William Louisa?" Ward stopped his horse before her, and with his hands +still clasped over the saddle-horn, looked down at her with that hidden +smile—and something else. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I haven't. I don't have to educate myself to the point where I +know the <I>Chisholm Trail</I> isn't a proper kind of funeral hymn, Ward +Warren." Billy Louise glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice +instinctively, as we all do when death has come close and stopped. +"Jase died last night; that's his grave up there. Isn't it perfectly +pitiful? Poor old Marthy was here all solitary alone with him. +And—Ward! She dug that grave her own self, and took him up and buried +him—and, Ward! She—she wheeled him up in the—<I>wheelbarrow</I>! She +had to, of course. She couldn't carry him. But isn't it awful?" Her +hands were up, patting and smoothing the neck of his horse, and her +face was bent to hide the tears that stood in her eyes, and the quiver +of her mouth. +</P> + +<P> +Ward drew in his lip, bit it, and let it go. He was a man, and he had +seen much of tragedy and trouble; also, he did not know Marthy or Jase. +His chief emotion was one of resentment against anything that brought +tears to Billy Louise; she had not hidden them from him; they were the +first and most important element in that day's happenings, so far as he +was concerned. He leaned and flipped the end of his reins lightly down +on her bare head. +</P> + +<P> +"William Louisa, if you cry about it, I'll—do something shocking, most +likely. Yes, it's awful; a whole lot of life is awful. But it's done, +and Mrs. Martha appears to be a woman with a whole lot of grit, so the +chances are she'll carry her load like a man. She'll be horribly +lonesome, down here! They lived alone, didn't they?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and they didn't seem to love each other much." Billy Louise was +not one to gloss over hard facts, even in the face of that grave. +"Marthy was always kicking about him, and he about her. But all the +same they belonged together; they had lived together more years than we +are old. And she's going to miss him awfully." +</P> + +<P> +Several minutes they stood there, talking, while Billy Louise patted +the horse absently, and Ward looked down at her and did not miss one +little light or shadow in her face. He had been alone a whole week, +thinking of her, remember, and his eyes were hungry to the point of +starvation. +</P> + +<P> +"You saw mommie, of course; you came from home?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I did not. I got as far as the creek and saw Blue's tracks coming +down; so I just sort of trailed along, seeing it was mommie's daughter +I felt most like talking to." +</P> + +<P> +"Mommie's daughter" laughed a little and instinctively made a change in +the subject. She did not see anything strange in the fact that Ward +had observed and recognized Blue's tracks coming into the gorge. She +would have observed and recognized instantly the tracks made by his +horse, anywhere. Those things come natural to one who has lived much +in the open; and there is a certain individuality in the hoof-prints of +a horse, as any plainsman can testify. +</P> + +<P> +"I've got to go in and wash the dishes," she said, stepping back from +him. "Of course nothing was done in the cabin, and I've been doing a +little house-cleaning. I guess the dish-water is hot by this time—if +it hasn't all boiled away." +</P> + +<P> +Ward, as a matter of course, tied his horse to the fence and went into +the cabin with her. He also asked her to stake him to a dish-towel, +which she did after a good deal of rummaging. He stood with his hat on +the back of his head, a cigarette between his lips, and wiped the +dishes with much apparent enjoyment. He objected strongly to Billy +Louise's assertion that she meant to scrub the floor, but when he found +her quite obdurate, he changed his method without in the least degree +yielding his point, though for diplomatic reasons he appeared to yield. +</P> + +<P> +He carried water from the creek and filled the tea-kettle, the big iron +pot, and both pails. Then, when Billy Louise had turned her back upon +him, while she looked in a dark corner for the mop, he suddenly seized +her under the arms and lifted her upon the table; and before she had +finished her astonished gaspings, he caught up a pail of water and +sloshed it upon the floor under her. Then he grinned in his triumph. +</P> + +<P> +"William Louisa, if you get your feet wet, your mommie will take a club +to you," he reminded her sternly. Whereupon he took the broom and +proceeded to give that floor a real man's scrubbing, refusing to +quarrel with Billy Louise, who scolded like a cross old woman from the +table—except when she simply had to stop and laugh heartily at his +violent method of cleaning. +</P> + +<P> +Ward sloshed and swept and scrubbed. He dug into the corners with a +grim thoroughness that won reluctant approbation from the young woman +on the table with her feet tucked under her, and he made her forget +poor old Jase up on the hillside. He scrubbed viciously behind the +door until the water was little better than a thin, black mud. +</P> + +<P> +"You want to come up to my claim some time," he said, looking over his +shoulder while he rested a minute. "I'll show you how a man keeps +house, William Louisa. Once a week I pile my two stools on the table, +put the cat up on the bunk—and she looks just about as comfortable and +happy as mommie's daughter looks right now—and get busy with the broom +and good creek water." He resettled his hat on the back of his head +and went to work again. "Mill Creek goes dry down below, on the days +when little Wardie cleans his cabin," he assured her gravely, and +damming up a muddy pool with the broom, he yanked open the door and +swept out the water with a perfectly unnecessary flourish, just because +he happened to be in a very exuberant mood. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise gave a squeal of consternation and then sat absolutely +still, staring round-eyed through the doorway. Ward stepped back—even +his composure was slightly jarred—and twisted his lips amusedly. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello," he said, after a few blank seconds. "You missed some of it, +didn't you?" His tone was mildly commiserating. "Will you come in?" +</P> + +<P> +"N-o-o, thank you, I don't believe I will." The speaker looked in, +however, saw Billy Louise perched upon the table, and took off his hat. +He was well plastered with dirty water that ran down and left streaks +of mud behind. "I must have gotten off the road," he said. "I'm +looking for Mr. Jason Meilke's ranch." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise tucked her feet farther under her skirts and continued to +stare dumbly. Ward, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes, +stepped considerately between her and the stranger so that his broad +shoulders quite hid her from the man's curious stare. +</P> + +<P> +"You've struck the right place," he said calmly. "This is it." He +picked up another pail of water and sloshed it upon the wet floor to +rinse off the mud. +</P> + +<P> +"Is—ah—Mrs. Meilke in?" One could not accuse the young man of +craning, but he certainly did try to get another glimpse of the person +on the table and failed because of Ward. +</P> + +<P> +"She's down in the meadow," Billy Louise murmured. +</P> + +<P> +"She's down in the meadow," Ward repeated to the bespattered young man. +"You just go down past the stable and follow on down—" he waved a hand +vaguely before he took up the broom again. "You'll find her, all +right," he added encouragingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Ward! That must be Marthy's nephew. What will he think?" +</P> + +<P> +"Does it matter such a h— a deuce of a lot what he thinks?" Ward went +on with his interrupted scrubbing. +</P> + +<P> +"His name is Charlie Fox, and he's been to college and he worked in a +bank," Billy Louise went on nervously. "He's going to live here with +Marthy and run the ranch. What must he have thought! To have you +sweep all that dirty water on him—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, not all!" Ward corrected cheerfully. "Quite a lot missed him." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise giggled. "What does he look like, Ward? You stood +squarely in the way, so I—" +</P> + +<P> +"He looked," said Ward dispassionately, "like a pretty mad young man +with nose, eyes, and a mouth, and a mole in front of his left ear." +</P> + +<P> +"He was real polite," said Billy Louise reprovingly, "and his voice is +nice." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes? I mind-read a heap of cussing. The politeness was all on top." +Ward chuckled and swept more water outside. "I expect you saved me a +licking that time, Miss William the Conqueror." +</P> + +<P> +"Can you think of any more names to call me, besides my own, I wonder?" +Billy Louise leaned and inspected the floor like a chicken preparing to +hop off its roost. +</P> + +<P> +"Heaps more." The glow in Ward's eyes was dangerous to their calm +friendship. "Want to hear them?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I don't. I want to get off this table before that college youth +comes back to be shocked silly again. I want to see if he's +really—got a mole in front of his ear!" +</P> + +<P> +"You know what inquisitiveness did to old lady Lot, don't you? +However—" He lifted her in his arms and set her down outside the +door. "There, Wilhemina; trot along and see the nice young man." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise sat down on the wheelbarrow, remembered its latest +service, and got up hastily. "I won't go a step," she asserted +positively. +</P> + +<P> +Ward had not wanted her to go. He gave her a smile and finished off +his scrubbing with the mop, which he handled with quite surprising +skill for a young man who seemed more at home in the saddle than +anywhere else. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm awfully glad he came, anyway." Billy Louise pulled down a budded +lilac branch and sniffed at it. "I won't have to stay all night, now. +I was going to." +</P> + +<P> +"In that case, the young man is welcome as a gold mine. Here they +come—he and Mrs. Martha. You'll have to introduce me, Bill-the-Conk; +I have never met the lady." Ward hastily returned the mop to its +corner, rolled down his sleeves, and picked up his gloves. Then he +stepped outside and waited beside Billy Louise, looking not in the +least like a man who has just wiped a lot of dishes and scrubbed a +floor. +</P> + +<P> +The nephew, striding along behind Marthy and showing head and shoulders +above her, seemed not to resent any little mischance, such as muddy +water flirted upon him from a broom. He grinned reminiscently as he +came up, shook hands with the two of them, and did not let his glance +dwell too long or too often upon Billy Louise, nor too briefly upon +Ward. +</P> + +<P> +"You've got a splendid place here, Aunt Martha," he told the old woman +appreciatively. "I'd no idea there was such a little beauty-spot down +here. This is even more picturesque than that homey-looking ranch we +passed a few miles back, down in that little valley. I was hoping that +was your ranch when I first saw it; and when I found it wasn't, I came +near stopping, anyway. I'm glad I resisted the temptation, now. This +is worth coming a long way to see." +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't never had a chance to do all I wanted to with it," said +Marthy, with the first hint of apology Billy Louise had ever heard from +her. "I only had one pair of hands to work with—" +</P> + +<P> +"We'll fix that part. Don't you worry a minute. You're going to sit +in a rocking-chair and give orders, from now on. And if I can't make +good here, I ought to be booted all the way up that spooky gorge. +Isn't that right?" He turned to Warren with a certain air of +appraisement behind the unmistakable cordiality of his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"A man ought to make good here, all right," Ward agreed neutrally. +"It's a fine place." +</P> + +<P> +"It ain't as fine as I'd like to see it," began Marthy depreciatingly. +</P> + +<P> +"As you will see it, let's say—if that doesn't sound too conceited +from a tenderfoot," supplemented the nephew, and laid his hand upon her +shoulder with a gentle little pat. "Folks, I don't want to seem too +exuberantly sure of myself, but—" he waved a carefully-kept hand +eloquently at the luxuriance around him, "—I'm all fussed up over this +place, honest. I thought I was coming to a shack in the middle of the +sage-brush; I was primed to buckle down and make good even in the +desert. And bumping into this sort of thing without warning has gone +to my alleged brain a bit. What I don't know about ranching would fill +a library; but there's this much, anyway. There won't be any more +ditch-digging for a certain game little lady in this Cove." He gave +the shoulder another pat, and he smiled down at her in a way that made +Billy Louise blink. And Marthy, who had probably never before been +called a game little lady, came near breaking down and crying before +them all. +</P> + +<P> +When Ward went to the stable after Blue, half an hour later, Charlie +Fox went with him. His manner when they were alone was different; not +so exuberantly cheerful—more frank and practical. +</P> + +<P> +"Honest, it floored me completely to see what that poor old woman has +been up against down here," he told Warren, stuffing tobacco into a +silver-rimmed, briar pipe while Ward saddled Blue. "I don't know a +hell of a lot about this ranch game; but if that old lady can put it +across, I guess I can wobble along somehow. Too bad the old man cashed +in just now; but Aunt Martha as good as told me he wasn't much force, +so maybe I can play a lone hand here as easy as I could have done with +him. Live near here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fifteen miles or so." Ward was not in his most expansive mood, +chiefly for the reason that this man was a stranger, and of strangers +he was inclined to fight shy. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well—it might have been fifty. I know how you fellows measure +distances out here. I'm likely to need a little coaching, now and +then, if I live up to what I just now told the old lady." +</P> + +<P> +"From all I know of her, you won't need to go out of the Cove for +advice." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that's right, judging from the looks of things. A woman that +can go up against a proposition like she did to-day and handle it +alone, is no mental weakling; to say nothing of the way this ranch +looks. All right, Warren; I'll make out alone, I reckon." +</P> + +<P> +Afterwards, when Ward thought it over, he remembered gratefully that +Charlie Fox had refrained from attempting any discussion of Billy +Louise or from asking any questions even remotely personal. He knew +enough about men to appreciate the tactful silences of the stranger, +and when Billy Louise, on the way home, predicted that the nephew was +going to be a success, Ward did not feel like qualifying the verdict. +</P> + +<P> +"He's going to be a godsend to the old lady," he said. "He seems to +have his sights raised to making things come easier for her from now +on." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, she certainly deserves it. For a college young man—the +ordinary, smart young man who comes out here to astonish the +natives—he's almost human. I was so afraid that Marthy'd get him out +here and then discover he was a perfect nuisance. So many men are." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +A MATTER OF TWELVE MONTHS OR SO +</H4> + +<P> +Out in the wide spaces, where homes are but scattered oases in the +general emptiness, life does not move uniformly, so far as it concerns +incidents or acquaintanceships. A man or a ranch may experience +complete isolation, and the unbroken monotony which sometimes +accompanies it, for a month at a time. Summer work or winter storm may +be the barrier temporarily raised, and life resolves itself into a +succession of days and nights unbroken by outside influences. They +leave their mark upon humans—these periods of isolation. For better, +for worse, the man changes slowly with the months; he grows more bovine +in his phlegmatic acceptance of his environment, or he becomes restless +and fired with a surplus energy of ambition, or he falls to dreaming +dreams; whatever angle he takes, he changes, imperceptibly perhaps, but +inevitably. +</P> + +<P> +Then the monotony is broken and sometimes with violence. Incident +rushes in upon the heels of incident, and life becomes as tumultuous as +the many moods of nature when it has a wide, open land for a playground. +</P> + +<P> +That is why, perhaps, so much of western life is painted with broad +strokes and raw colors. You are given the crowded action, the +unleashing of emotions and temperaments that have smoldered long under +the blanket of solitary living. You are shown an effect without being +given the cause of that effect. You pronounce the West wild, and you +never think of the long winters that bred in silence and brooding +solitude those storm-periods which seem so primitively savage; of the +days wherein each nature is thrown upon its own resources, with nothing +to feed upon but itself and its own personal interests. And so +characters change, and one wonders why. +</P> + +<P> +There was Billy Louise, with her hands and her mind full of the +problems her father had died still trying to solve. She did not in the +least realize that she was attempting anything out of the ordinary when +she took a half-developed ranch in the middle of a land almost as wild +as it had been when the Indians wandered over it unmolested, a few +cattle and horses and a bundle of debts to make her head swim, and set +herself the problem of increasing the number of cattle and eliminating +the debts, and of wresting prosperity out of a condition of +picturesquely haphazard poverty. She went about it with the pathetic +confidence of youth and ignorance. She rode up and down the canyons +and over the higher, grassier ridges, to watch the cattle on their +summer range and keep them from straying. She went with John Pringle +after posts and helped him fence certain fertile slopes and hollows for +winter grazing. She drove the rickety old mower through the waving +grass along the creek bottom and hummed little, contented tunes while +she watched the grass sway and fall evenly when the sickle shuttled +through. She put on her gymnasium bloomers and drove the hay wagon, +and felt only a pleasurable thrill of excitement when John Pringle +inadvertently pitched an indignant rattlesnake up to her with a forkful +of hay. She killed the snake with her pitchfork and pinched off the +rattles, proud of their size and number. +</P> + +<P> +When she sold seven fat, three-year-old steers that fall and paid a +note twice renewed, managing besides to buy the winter supply of "grub" +and a sewing-machine and a set of silver teaspoons for her mother, oh, +but she was proud! +</P> + +<P> +Ward rode down to the ranch that night, and Billy Louise showed him the +note with its red stamp, oblong and imposing and slightly blurred on +the "paid" side. Ward was almost as proud as she, if looks and tones +went for anything, and he helped Billy Louise a good deal by telling +her just how much she ought to pay for the yearlings old Johnson, over +on Snake River, had for sale. Also he told her how much hay it would +take to winter them—though she knew that already—and just what +percentage of profit she might expect from a given number in a given +period of time. +</P> + +<P> +He spoke of his own work and plans, as well. He was going into cattle, +also, as fast as possible, he said. In a few years the sheep would +probably come in and crowd them out, but in the meantime there was +money in cattle—and the more cattle, the more money. He was going to +work for wages till the winter set in. He didn't know when he would +see Billy Louise, he said, but he would stop on his way back. +</P> + +<P> +To them that short visit was something more than an incident. It gave +Ward new stuff for his dreams and new fuel for the fire of ambition. +To Billy Louise it also furnished new dream material. She rode the +hills and saw in fancy whole herds of cattle where now wandered +scattered animals. She dreamed of the time when Ward and Charlie Fox +and she would pool their interests and run a wagon of their own, and +gather their stock from wide ranges. She was foolish, in that; but +that is what she liked to dream. +</P> + +<P> +Mentioning Charlie Fox calls to mind the fact that he was changing more +than any of them. Billy Louise did not see him very often, but when +she did it was with a deepening impression of his unflagging tenderness +to Marthy—a tenderness that manifested itself in many little, +unassuming thoughtfulnesses—and of his good-humor and his energy and +several other qualities which one must admire. +</P> + +<P> +"Mommie, that nephew goes at everything just as if it were a game," she +said after one visit. "You know what that cabin has always been: dark +and dirty and not a comfortable chair to sit down in, or a book or +magazine or anything? Well, I'm just going to take you over there some +day and let you see the difference. He's cut two more windows and +built on an addition with a porch, if you please. And he has a +bookcase he made himself, just stuffed with books and magazines. And +he made Marthy a rocking-chair, mommie, and—she wears a white apron, +and has her hair combed, and sits and rocks! Honest to goodness, you +wouldn't think she was the same woman." +</P> + +<P> +"Marthy always seemed to me more like a man than a woman," said her +mother. "She didn't have nothing domestic in her whole make-up, far as +I could see. Her cooking—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, mommie, Marthy cooks real well now. Charlie praises up her +bread, and she takes lots of pains with it. And she just fusses with +her flowers and lets him run the ranch; and, mommie, she just worships +Charlie! The way she sits and looks at him when he's talking—you can +see she almost says prayers to him. She does let her dishpan stay +greasy—I don't suppose you can change a person completely—but +everything is lots cleaner than it used to be before Charlie came. +He's going to buy more cattle, too, he says. Young stock, mostly. He +says there's no sense in anybody being poor, in such a country as this. +He says he intends to make Marthy rich; Aunt Martha, he calls her. I'm +certainly going to take you over to see her, mommie, the very first +nice day when I don't have a million other things to do." Billy Louise +sighed and pushed her hair back impatiently. "I wish I were a man and +as smart as Charlie Fox," she added, with the plaintive note that now +sometimes crept into her voice when she realized of a sudden how great +a load she was carrying. +</P> + +<P> +"A man can get out and do things. And a woman—why, even Ward seems to +think it's perfectly wonderful, mommie, that we don't just about +starve, with me running the ranch! I know he does. Every time I do a +thing right or pay off a note or anything, he looks as if—" +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't be a mite surprised, Billy Louise," said her mother, with a +flash of amused comprehension, "if you kinda misread Ward sometimes. +Them eyes of his are pretty keen, and they see a whole lot; but they +ain't easy to read, for all that. I guess Ward don't think it's +anything surprising that you're getting along so well, Billy Louise. I +surmise he knows you're a better manager than a lot of men are." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not the manager Charlie Fox is, though." Billy Louise was frankly +envious. +</P> + +<P> +"He didn't have any more to do with than I've got, and he's +accomplished a lot more. And, besides, he started in green at the +whole business." She rested her chin in her cupped palms and stared +disconsolately at the high-piled hills behind which the sun was setting +gloriously. "He's going to pipe water into the house, mommie," she +observed, after a silence. "I wish—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, he's welcome. I don't want no water piped in here, Billy +Louise, and tastin' of the pipe. I'd rather carry it and have it sweet +and fresh. Don't you go worrying because you can't do everything +Charlie Fox does. Likely as not he's pilin' up the debts instead of +payin' 'em off as you're doing." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know; I don't believe he is, though. I think he's just +managing right and making every dollar count. He got calves from +Seabeck, up the river, cheaper than I did from Johnson, mommie. He +rode all over the country and looked up range conditions and prices. +He didn't say so, but he made me feel foolish because I just bought the +first ones I saw, without waiting to look around first. But—Ward said +it was a good buy, and he ought to know; only, the fact remains that +Charlie has done better. I guess it isn't experience that counts, +altogether. Charlie Fox has got brains!" +</P> + +<P> +"Land alive! I guess he ain't the only one, Billy Louise. You're +doing better than your father done, and he wasn't any Jase Meilke kind +of a man, but a good, hard worker always. You don't want to get all +outa conceit with yourself just because Charlie Fox is gitting along +all right. I don't know as it's so wonderful. Marthy was always +forehanded, and she made money there and never spent any to speak of. +Though I shouldn't carry the idea she's stingy, after the way she—" +</P> + +<P> +If Billy Louise had not been so absorbed with her own discontent, she +might have wondered at her mother's sudden silence. But she did not +even notice it. She was comparing two young men and measuring them +with certain standards of her own, and she was not quite satisfied with +the result. She had seen Charlie Fox spring up with a perfectly +natural courtesy and hand Marthy a chair when she entered the room +where he had been discussing books with Billy Louise. She had seen him +stand beside his own chair until Marthy was seated and then had heard +him deftly turn the conversation into a channel wherein Marthy had also +an interest. Parlor politeness—and something more; something +infinitely finer and better than mere obedience to certain conventional +rules. +</P> + +<P> +She had seen that and more, and she had a vivid picture of Ward, +sitting absorbed in a book which he never afterwards mentioned, and +letting her or her mother lift heavy pieces of wood upon the fire +within arm's reach of him; sitting with his hat tilted back upon his +head and a cigarette gone cold in his fingers, and perhaps not replying +at all when he was spoken to. She had never considered him uncouth or +rude; he was Ward Warren, and these were certain individual traits +which he possessed and which seemed a part of him. She had sensed +dimly that some natures are too big and too strong for petty rules of +deportment, and that Ward might sit all day in the house with his hat +on his head and still be a gentleman of the finer sort. And yet, now +that Charlie Fox had come and presented an example of the world's +standard, Billy Louise could not, for the life of her, help wishing +that Ward was different. And there were other things; things which +Billy Louise was ashamed to recognize as influencing her in any way, +and yet which did influence her. For instance, Ward lived to himself +and for himself, and not always wisely or well. He was arrogant in his +opinions—Billy Louise had rather admired what she had called his +strength, but it had become arrogance now—and his scorn was swift and +keen for blunderings. And there was Charlie, always thinking and +planning for Marthy and putting her wishes first; wanting to make sure +that he himself had not blundered, and with a conservative estimate of +himself that was refreshingly modest. And— +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't that Ward coming, Billy Louise? Seems to me it looks like +him—the way he rides." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise started guiltily and looked up toward the trail, now piled +deep with shadows. It was Ward, all right, and his voice, lifted in a +good-humored shout, brought Billy Louise to her feet and sent her down +the slope to the stable, where he had stopped as a matter of course. +</P> + +<P> +When he turned and smiled at her through the dusk and said, "'Lo, +Bill," in a voice that was like a spoken kiss, a certain young woman +hated herself for a weak-souled traitor and mentally called Charlie Fox +a popinjay, which was merely shifting injustice to another +resting-place. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you plumb tickled to death to see me, William?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no; but I guess I can stand it!" +</P> + +<P> +A smile to go with both sentences, and a strong undercurrent of +something unnamed in their tones—who wanted the pasteurized milk and +distilled water of a perfectly polite form of greeting? Not Billy +Louise, if one might judge from that young woman's face and voice and +manner. Not Ward, though he was perfectly unconscious of having been +weighed or measured or judged by any standard at all. +</P> + +<P> +And yet, when Charlie Fox rode down to the Wolverine a week or so +later, tied his horse under the shed, and came up to the cabin as +though he knew of no better place in all the world; when he greeted +mommie as though she were something precious in his sight, and talked +with her about the things she was most interested in, and actually made +her feel as if he were immensely interested also, Billy Louise simply +could not help admiring him and liking him for his frank good-nature +and his kindness. She had never before met a man just like Charlie +Fox, though she had known many who were what Ward once called +"parlor-broke." She felt when she was with him that he had a strength +to match Ward's strength; only, this strength was tamed and trained and +smoothed so that it did not obtrude upon one's notice. It was not +every young man who would come out into the wilderness and roughen his +hands on an irrigating shovel and live a cramped, lonely life, for the +sake of a harsh, illiterate old woman like Marthy Meilke. She did not +believe Ward would do that. He would have to feel some tie stronger +than the one between Marthy and her nephew before he would change his +life and his own plans for anyone. +</P> + +<P> +It was not until Charlie was leaving that he gave Billy Louise a hint +that his errand was not yet accomplished. She walked down with him to +where his horse was tied and so gave him a chance to speak what was in +his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"You know, I hate to mention little worries before your mother," he +said. "Those pathetic eyes of hers make me ashamed to bother her with +a thing. But I am worried, Miss Louise. I came over to ask you if +you've seen anything of four calves of ours. I know you ride a good +deal, through the hills. They disappeared a week ago, and I can't find +any trace of them. I've been looking all through the hills, but I +can't locate them." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise had not seen them, either, and she begged for particulars. +"I don't see how they could get away from your Cove," she said, "unless +your bars were down." +</P> + +<P> +"The bars were all right. It was last Friday, I think. I'm not sure. +They were in the little meadow above the house, you see. I was away +that night, and Aunt Martha is a little hard of hearing. She wouldn't +hear anything unless there were considerable noise. I came home the +next forenoon—I was over to Seabeck's—and the bars were in place +then. Aunt Martha had not been up the gorge, nor had anyone come to +the ranch while I was gone. So you see, Miss Louise, here's a very +pretty mystery!" +</P> + +<P> +He laughed, but Billy Louise saw by his eyes that he did not laugh very +deeply, and that he was really worried. "I must have made a mistake +and bought mountain sheep instead of calves," he said and laughed +again. "They couldn't have gone through those bars or over them; and I +did have a spark of intelligence and looked along the river for tracks, +you know. They had not been near the river, which has soft banks along +there. They watered from the little creek that comes down the gorge. +Miss Louise, do you have flying cattle in Idaho?" +</P> + +<P> +"You think they were driven off, don't you?" Billy Louise asked a +question with the words, and made a statement of it with her tone, +which was a trick of hers. +</P> + +<P> +Charlie Fox shook his head, but his eyes did not complete the denial. +"Miss Louise, I'd work every other theory to death before I'd admit +that possibility! I don't know all of my neighbors so very well, but I +should hesitate a long, long time—" +</P> + +<P> +"It needn't have been a neighbor. There are lots of strange men +passing through the country. Did you look for tracks?" +</P> + +<P> +"I—did not. I didn't want to admit that possibility. I decline to +admit it now." The chin of Charlie Fox squared perceptibly, so that +Billie Louise caught a faint resemblance to Marthy in his face. "I saw +a man accused of a theft once," he said. "The evidence was—or +seemed—absolutely unassailable. And afterward he was exonerated +completely; it was just a horrible mistake. But he left school under a +cloud. His life was ruined by the blunder. I'd have to know +absolutely before I'd accuse anyone of stealing those calves, Miss +Louise. I'd have to see them in a man's corral, with his brand on +them—I believe that's the way it's done, out here—and even then—" +</P> + +<P> +"Where have you looked?" There were reasons why this particular +subject was painful to Billy Louise. "And are you sure they didn't get +out of that pasture and wander on down the Cove, among all those +willows? It's a perfect jungle, away down. Are you sure they aren't +with the rest of the cattle? I don't see how they could leave the +Cove, unless they were driven out." She caught a twinkle of amusement +in his eyes and stopped short. Of course, a mere girl should not take +it for granted that a man had failed to do all that might be done. And +Billy Louise had a swift conviction that she would never think of +talking like this to Ward. She flushed a little; and still, Charlie +Fox was a tenderfoot. She was justified in asking those questions, and +in her heart she knew it. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I thought of that—strange as it may seem." Charlie's voice was +unoffended. On the contrary, he seemed glad that she took so keen an +interest in his affairs. "It has been a week, you know, since they +flew the coop. I did hunt every foot of that Cove, twice over. I +drove every hoof of stock up and corraled them, and made sure these +four were not in the herd. Then I hunted through every inch of that +willow jungle and all along the bluff and the river; Miss Louise, I put +in three days at it, from sunrise till it was too dark to see. Then I +began riding outside. There isn't a trace of them anywhere. I had +just bought them from Seabeck, you know. I drove them home, and +because they were tired, and so was I, I just left them in that upper +meadow as I came down the gorge. I hadn't branded them yet. I—I know +I've made an awful botch of the thing, Miss Louise," he confessed, +turning toward her with an honest distress and a self-flaying humility +in his eyes that wiped from Billy Louise's mind any incipient tendency +toward contempt. "But you see I'm green at this ranch game. And I +never dreamed those calves weren't perfectly safe in there. The fence +was new and strong; I built it new this fall, you know. And the bars +are absolutely bars to any stock larger than a rabbit. Of course," he +added, with a deprecating note, "four calves are only four calves. +But—it's the sense of failure that gets me hardest, Miss Louise. Aunt +Martha trusted me to take care of things. Her confidence in me fairly +takes my nerve. And losing four fine, big heifer calves at one whack +is no way to get rich; is it, Miss Louise?" He laughed, and again the +laugh did not go deep, or reach his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I hate to bother you with this, and I don't want you to think I have +come whining for sympathy," he said, after a minute of moody silence. +"But seeing they were not branded yet—with our brand—I thought +perhaps you had run across them and paid no attention, thinking they +belonged to Seabeck." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise smiled a little to herself. If he had not been quite so +"green at the ranch game," he would have mentioned brands at first, as +the most important point, instead of tacking on the information +casually after ten minutes of other less vital details. +</P> + +<P> +"Were they vented?" she asked, suppressing the smile so that it was +merely a twitch of the lips which might mean anything. +</P> + +<P> +"I—yes, I think they were. That's what you call it when the former +owner puts his brand in a different place to show that his ownership +has ceased, isn't it? Seabeck puts his brand upside down—" +</P> + +<P> +"I know Seabeck's vent," Billy Louise cut in. There was no need of +letting such a fine fellow display more ignorance on the subject. "And +I should have noticed it if I had seen four calves vented fresh and not +rebranded. Why in the world didn't you stick your brand on at the same +time?" Billy Louise was losing patience with his greenness. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't have my branding iron with me," Charlie answered humbly. "I +have done that before, when I bought those other cows and calves. I—" +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better pack your iron, next time," she retorted. "If you can't +get a little bunch of calves ten miles without losing them—" +</P> + +<P> +"But you must understand, I did! I took them home and turned them into +the Cove. I know—I'm an awful chump at this. There are things that I +can do," he declared whimsically, "or I should want to kick myself to +death. I can ladle out money the year round through a bank wicket and +not be shy a cent at the end of the year. And I can strike out man +after man—when I'm in good form; why, I've pitched whole games and +never walked a man! And I can—but what's the use? I can't drive the +cows up from pasture, it seems, without losing all the milk. And I can +make a little, gray-eyed girl out here in the sagebrush look upon me +with pitying contempt for my asinine ignorance. Hang it, why does a +fellow have to learn fresh lessons for everything he undertakes? Why +can't there be a universal course that fits one for every trade?" +</P> + +<P> +"There is," said Billy Louise dryly. "You take that in the School of +Experience, don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +He laughed ruefully. "Horatio! It certainly does cost something, +though. I've certainly paid enough—" +</P> + +<P> +"In worry, maybe. The calves may not be absolutely lost, you know. +Why, I lost a big steer last spring and never found him till I was +going to sell a few head. Then he turned up, the biggest and fattest +one in the bunch. You can't tell; they get themselves in queer places +sometimes. I'll come over to-morrow, if I can, and take a look at that +pasture and all around. And I'll keep a good lookout for the calves." +</P> + +<P> +Many men would have objected to the unconscious patronage of her tone. +That Charlie Fox did not, but accepted the spirit of helpfulness in her +words, lifted him out of the small-natured class. +</P> + +<P> +"It's awfully good of you," he said. "You know a lot more about the +bovine nature than I do, for all I put in every spare minute studying +the subject. I'm taking four different stock journals now, Miss +Louise. I'll bet I know a lot more about the different strains of +various breeds than you do, Miss Cattle-queen. But I'm beginning to +see that we only know what we learn by experience. I've a new book on +the subject of heredity of the cattle. I'm going home and see if +Seabeck hasn't stumbled upon a strain that can be traced back to your +native mountain sheep." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise laughed and said good-by, and stood leaning over the gate +watching him as he zigzagged up the hill, stopping his horse often to +breathe. The wagon road took a round-about course, longer and less +steep. At the top, just before he rounded a huge pimple on the face of +the bluff, he stopped and looked down, saw her standing there, and +waved his hat. His horse stood sidewise upon the trail for easier +footing, and the man's head and shoulders were silhouetted sharply +against the deep, clear blue of the sky. Billy Louise felt a little, +unnamed thrill as she stared up at him. Her lips curved into +tenderness. Clean, frank, easy-natured he was, as she had come to know +him. It was like coming into a sunny spot to be with him. And then +she sighed, with that vague feeling of dissatisfaction with herself. +She felt crude and awkward and dull of wit. Her mother, Marthy, +Ward—all the persons she knew—were crude and awkward and ignorant +beside Charlie Fox. And she had had the temerity, the insufferable +effrontery, to criticize him and patronize him over those four calves! +</P> + +<P> +"He can strike out three men in succession," she murmured. "And he +pitched whole games and never walked a man." She gave him a final wave +of the hand, as he turned to climb on out of sight. "And I don't even +know what he was talking about—though I think it was baseball. And I +was awfully snippy about those calves he lost." +</P> + +<P> +She began to wonder, then, about those calves. Vented and not +rebranded, they would be easy game for any man who first got his own +brand on them. She meant to get a description of them when she saw +Charlie again—it was like his innocence to forget the most essential +details!—and she meant to keep her eyes open. If Charlie were right +about the calves not being anywhere in the Cove, then they had been +driven out of it, stolen. Billy Louise turned dejectedly away from the +fence and went down to a shady nook by the creek, where she had always +liked to do her worrying and hard thinking. +</P> + +<P> +She stooped and tried to catch a baby trout in her cupped palms, just +as she used to try when she was a child. If those four calves were +stolen, then there was a "rustler" in the country. And if there were, +then no one's stock was safe. The deduction was terribly simple and as +exact as the smallest sum in addition. And Billy Louise could not +afford to pay toll to a rustler out of her forty-seven head of cattle. +</P> + +<P> +The next day she rode early to the Cove and learned some things from +Marthy which she had not gleaned from Charlie. She learned that two of +the calves were a deep red, except for a wide, white strip on the nose +of one and white hind feet on the other; that another was spotted on +the hindquarters, and that the fourth was white, with large, red +blotches. She had known cattle all her life. She would know these, if +she saw them anywhere. +</P> + +<P> +She also discovered for herself that they could not have broken out of +that pasture, and that the river bank was impassable, because of high, +thick bushes and miry mud in the open spaces. She had a fight with +Blue over these latter places and demonstrated beyond doubt that they +were miry, by getting him in to the knees in spite of his violent +objections. They left deep tracks behind them when they got out. The +calves had not gone investigating the bank, for there was not a trace +anywhere. And the bluff was absolutely unscalable. Billy Louise +herself would have felt doubtful of climbing out that way. The gray +rim-rock stood straight and high at the top, with never a crevice, so +far as she could see. And the gorge was barred, so that it was +impossible to go that way without lifting heavy poles out of deep +sockets and sliding them to one side. +</P> + +<P> +"I've got an idea about a gate here," Charlie confided suddenly. +"There won't be any more mysteries like this. I'm going to fix a +swinging gate in place of these bars, Miss Louise. I shall have it +swing uphill, like this; and I'll have a weight arranged so that it +will always close itself, if one is careless enough to ride on and +leave it open. I have it all worked out in my alleged brain. I shall +do it right away, too. Aunt Marthy is rather nervous about this gorge, +now. Every evening she walks up here herself to make sure the bars are +closed." +</P> + +<P> +"You may as well make up your mind to it," said Billy Louise +irrelevantly, in a tone of absolute certainty. "Those calves were +driven out of the gorge. That means stolen. You needn't accuse anyone +in particular; I don't suppose you could. But they were stolen." +</P> + +<P> +Charlie frowned and glanced up speculatively at the bluff's rim. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, your mountain-sheep theory is no good," Billy Louise giggled. "I +doubt if a lizard, even, would try to leave the Cove over the bluff." +Which certainly was a sweeping statement, when you consider a lizard's +habits. "A mountain sheep couldn't, anyway." +</P> + +<P> +"They're hummers to climb—" +</P> + +<P> +"But calves are not, Mr. Fox! Not like that. You know yourself they +were stolen; why not admit it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Would that do any good—bring them back?" he countered, looking up at +her. +</P> + +<P> +"N-o, but I do hate to see a person deliberately shut his eyes in front +of a fact. We may as well admit to ourselves that there is a rustler +in the country. Then we can look out for him." +</P> + +<P> +Charlie's eyes had the troubled look. "I hate to think that. Aunt +Martha insists that is what we are up against, but—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, she knows more about it than you do, believe me. If you'll let +down the bars, Mr. Fox, I'll hit the trail. And if I find out +anything, I'll let you know at once." +</P> + +<P> +When she rode over the bleak upland she caught herself wishing that she +might talk the thing over with Ward. He would know just what ought to +be done. But winter was coming, and she would drive her stock down +into the fields she had ready. They would be safe there, surely. +Still, she wished Ward would come. She wanted to talk it over with a +man who understood and who knew more about such things than she did. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +WARD HUNTS WOLVES +</H4> + +<P> +The fate of the four heifer calves became permanently wrapped in the +blank fog of mystery. Billy Louise watched for them when she rode out +in the hills, and spent a good deal of time heretofore given over to +dreaming in trying to solve the riddle of their disappearance. Charlie +Fox insisted upon keeping to the theory that they had merely strayed. +Marthy grumbled sometimes over the loss, and Ward—well, Ward did not +put in an appearance again that fall or winter and so did not hear of +the incident. +</P> + +<P> +November brought a long, tiresome storm of snow and sleet and chill +winds, which even the beasts would not face, except when they were +forced. After that there were days of chilly sunlight, nights of black +frost, and more wind and rain and snow. Each little ranch oasis +withdrew into itself and settled down to pass the winter in physical +comfort and mental isolation. Even Billy Louise seldom rode abroad +unless she was compelled to, which was not often. The stage which +passed through the Wolverine basin twice a week left scanty mail in the +starch-box which Billy Louise had herself nailed to a post nearest the +trail. Now and then a chance traveler pulled thankfully out of the +trail, stopped for a warm dinner or a bed, and afterwards went his way. +But from October until the hills were green, there was never a sight of +Ward, and Billy Louise changed her mood and her opinion of him three or +four times a week. +</P> + +<P> +Ward, as a matter of fact, had a very good reason for his absence. He +was working for a rancher over on the other side of the mountains, and +when he got leave of absence, it was merely that he might ride to his +claim and sleep there a night in compliance with the law, and see that +nothing was disturbed. He was earning forty dollars a month, which he +could not afford to jeopardize by any prolonged absence; and he was to +take part of his pay in cows. Also, he had made arrangements to keep +his few head of stock with the rancher's for a nominal sum, which +barely saved Ward from the humiliation of feeling that the man was +giving him something for nothing. Junkins, the rancher, was a good +fellow, and he had a fair sense of values. He knew that he could pay +Ward these wages and let him winter his stock there—I believe Ward had +seven or eight head at that time—and still make a fair profit on his +labor. For Ward stuck to his work, and he worked fast, with the drive +of his nervous energy and the impatience he always felt toward any +obstacle. Junkins considered privately that Ward was giving him the +work of two men, while he had the appetite of one. So that it was to +his interest to induce Ward to stay until spring opened and gave him +plenty to do on his own claim; and such was Ward's anxiety to acquire +some property and a certain financial security, that he put behind him +the temptation to ride down to the Wolverine until he was once more his +own master. He had sold his time to Junkins. He would not pilfer the +hours it would take to ride twenty miles and back again, even to see +Billy Louise; which proves that he was no moral weakling, whatever else +he might be. +</P> + +<P> +Then, in April, he left Junkins and drove home a nice little bunch of +ten cows and a two-year-old and two yearlings. One of the cows had a +week-old calf, and there would be more before long. Ward sang the +whole of <I>Chisholm Trail</I> at the top of his voice, as he drifted the +cattle slowly up the long hill to the top of the divide, from where he +could look down over lower hills into his own little creek-bottom. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky,<BR> +I'll quit punching cows in the sweet by-and-by,"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +he finished exuberantly and promised himself that he would ride down to +the Wolverine the very next day "and see how the folks came through the +winter." He wanted to tell William Louisa that he was some cowman +himself, these days. He thought he had made a pretty good showing in +the last twelve months; for when he first met her, at the Cedar Creek +ford, he hadn't owned a hoof except the four which belonged to Rattler, +his horse. He thought that maybe, if the play came right and he didn't +lose his nerve, he might tell William Louisa something else! It seemed +to him that he had earned the right now. +</P> + +<P> +He rode three miles oblivious to his surroundings, while he went +carefully over his acquaintance—no, his friendship—with Billy Louise +and tried to guess what she would say when he told her what he had +wanted to tell her for a year; what he had been hungry to tell her. +Sometimes he smiled a little, and sometimes he looked gloomy. He ended +by hurrying the cattle down the canyon so that he might ride on to the +Wolverine that night. It would be tough on Rattler, but then, what's a +range cayuse made for, anyway? Rattler had had a snap, all winter; he +could stand a hard deal once, for a change. It would do the old skate +good to lift himself over fifty miles once more. +</P> + +<P> +Whether it did Rattler any good or not, it put new heart into Ward to +ride down the bluff and see the wink of the cabin window once more. He +smiled suddenly to himself, threw back his shoulders, and lifted up his +voice in the doggerel that had come to be a sort of bond between the +two. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I'm on my best horse and a-comin' on the run,<BR> +Best blamed cowboy that ever pulled a gun,"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +he shouted gleefully. A yellow square opened in the cabin's side, and +a figure stood outlined against the shining background. Ward laughed +happily. +</P> + +<P> +"Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a," he sang uproariously. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise turned her head toward the interior of the cabin and then +left the light and merged into the darkness without. Ward risked a +broken neck and went down the last bit of slope as if he were trying to +head a steer. By the time he galloped up to the gate, Billy Louise was +leaning over it. He could see her form dimly there. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lo, Bill," he said softly and slid out of the saddle and went up to +her. "How you was, already?" Again his voice was like a kiss. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lo, Ward!" (in a tone that returned the kiss). "Don't know whether +the stopping's good to-night or not. We've quit taking in tramps. +Where the dickens have you been for the last ten years?" And that, on +top of a firm conviction in Billy's Louise's mind that she did not care +whether Ward ever crossed her trail again, and that when he did, he +would have to do a lot of explaining before she would thaw to anything +approaching friendliness. Oh, well, we all change our minds sometimes. +</P> + +<P> +"I felt like it was twenty," Ward affirmed. "Do I get any supper, +William? I like to have ridden my horse to a standstill getting here +to-night; know that? I hope you appreciate the fact." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a wonder you wouldn't have started a little sooner, then," Billy +Louise retorted. "Along about Christmas, for instance." +</P> + +<P> +"Wasn't my fault I didn't, William. Think I've got nothing to do but +chase around the country calling on young ladies? I've been a wage +slave, Bill-Loo. Come on while I put up my horse. Poor devil, I drove +cattle from Junkins' place with him, and they weren't what you could +call trail-broke, either. And then I came on down here. I've been in +the saddle since daylight, young lady; and Rattler's been under it." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm very sure that it is not my fault," Billy Louise disclaimed, +as she walked beside him to the stable. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not so sure of that! I might produce some pretty strong evidence +that the last twenty miles is your fault. Say, you didn't know I've +gone into the cow business myself, did you, William? I've been working +like one son-of-a-gun all fall and winter, and I'm in the cattle-king +class—to the extent of twelve head. I knew you were crazy to hear the +glad tidings, so I tried to kill off a horse to get here and tell you. +You and me'll be running a wagon and full crew in another year, don't +you reckon? And send reps over into Wyoming and around, to look after +our interests!" He laughed at himself with a perfect understanding of +his own insignificance as a cattle-owner, and Billy Louise laughed with +him, though not at him, for it seemed to her that Ward had done well, +considering his small opportunities. +</P> + +<P> +To be sure, in these days when civilization travels by million-dollar +milestones, and the hero of a ten-dollar story scorns any enterprise +which requires less than five figures to name its profits, Ward and +Billy Louise and Charlie Fox—and all their neighbors—do not amount to +much. But it is a fact that real men and women in the real world +beyond the horizon work hard and fight real battles for a very small +success compared with Big Interests and the modern storyman. And I'm +telling you of some real people in a real world out in the sagebrush +country, where not even a story hero may consistently become a +millionaire in ten chapters. There is no millionaire material in the +sagebrush country, you know, unless it is planted there by the Big +Interests; and the Big Interests do not plant in barren soil. So if +twelve head of cattle look too trifling to mention, I can't help it. +Ward worked mighty hard for those few animals, and saved and schemed, +and denied himself much pleasure. Therefore, he did as well as any man +under the circumstances could do and be honest. +</P> + +<P> +He did not do so very well when it came to telling Billy Louise +something. Twice during his visit he had to admit to himself that the +play came right to tell her. And both times Ward shied like a horse in +the moonlight. For all that he sang about half the way home, the next +day, and for the rest of the way he built castles; which proves that +his visit had not been disappointing. +</P> + +<P> +He rode out into the pasture where his cattle were grazing and sat +looking at them while he smoked a cigarette. And while he smoked, that +small herd grew and multiplied before the eyes of his imagination, +until he needed a full crew of riders to take care of them. He shipped +a trainload of beef to Chicago before he threw away the cigarette stub, +and he laughed to himself when he rode back to the log cabin in the +grove of quaking aspens. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm getting my money's worth out of that bunch, just in the fun of +planning ahead," he realized, while he whittled shavings from the edge +of a cracker-box to start his supper fire. "A few cows and calves make +the best day-dream material I've struck yet; wish I had more of the +same. I'd make old Dame Fortune put a different brand on me, pronto. +She could spell it with an F, but it wouldn't be football. If the +cards fall right," he mused, when the fire was hot and crackling, and +he was slicing bacon with his pocket-knife, "I'll get the best of her +yet. And—" His coffee-pail boiled over and interrupted him. He +burned his fingers before he slid the pail to a cooler spot, and after +that he thought of the joys of having a certain gray-eyed girl for his +housekeeper, and for a time he forgot about his newly acquired herd. +</P> + +<P> +And then his day-dreams received a severer jolt, and one more lasting. +He began to realize something that he had always known: that there is +something more to the cattle business than branding the calves and +selling the beef. +</P> + +<P> +When the first calf went to dull the hunger of the wolves that howled +o'nights among the rocks and stunted pines on Bannock Butte, Ward swore +a good deal and resolved to ride with his rifle tied on the saddle +hereafter. Also, he went back immediately, got a little fat, blue +bottle of strychnine, and returned and "salted" the small remnant of +the carcass. It was no part of his dreams to have the profit chewed +off his little herd by wolves. +</P> + +<P> +When the second calf was pulled down in spite of the mother's defense, +within half a mile of his cabin, Ward postponed a trip he had meant to +make to the Wolverine and went out on the trail of the wolves. In the +loose soil of the lower ridge he tracked them easily and rode at a +shuffling trot along the cow-trail they had followed, his eyes keen for +some further sign of them. He guessed that there would be at least one +den farther up in the gulch that opened out ahead, and if he could find +it and get the pups—well, the bounty on one litter would even his +loss, even if he were not lucky enough to get one of the old ones. He +had a shovel tied to the saddle under his left leg, to use in case he +found a den. +</P> + +<P> +So, planning a crusade against these enemies to his enterprise, he +picked his way slowly up the side of the deep gully that had a little +stream wandering through rocks at the bottom. His eyes, that Billy +Louise had found so quick and keen, noted every little jutting shelf of +rock, every badger hole, every bush. It looked like a good place for +dens of wolf or coyote. And with the sun shining down warm on his +shoulders, and the meadow larks singing from swaying weeds, and rabbits +scuttling away through the rocks now and then, Ward began to forget the +ill-luck that had brought him out and to enjoy the hunt for its own +sake. +</P> + +<P> +Farther along there were so many places that would bear investigation +that he left Rattler on a level spot, and with his rifle and +six-shooter, went forward on foot, climbing over ledges of rock, +forcing his way through green-budded, wild-rose bushes or sliding down +loose, gravelly slopes. +</P> + +<P> +One place—a tiny cave under a huge bowlder—looked promising. There +were wolf tracks going in and out, plenty of them. But there were no +bones or offal anywhere around, and Ward decided that it was not a +family residence, but that the wolves had perhaps invaded the nest of +some other animal. He went on hopefully. That side of the gulch was +cobwebbed with tracks. +</P> + +<P> +Then, quite accidentally, he glanced across to the far side, his eyes +attracted to something which had moved. He could see nothing at first, +though from the corner of his eye he had certainly caught a flicker of +movement over there. Yellow sand, gray rocks and bushes, and above a +curlew circling, with long beak outstretched before, and long, red legs +stretched out behind. He almost believed he had but caught the swift +passing of a cloud shadow over there and was on the point of climbing +farther up his own slope, to where a yawning hole in the hill showed +signs of being pawed and trampled. Then an outline slowly defined +itself among a jumble of rocks; head, sloping back, two points for +ears. It might be a rock, but it began to look more and more like a +wolf sitting up on its haunches watching him fixedly. +</P> + +<P> +Even while Ward lifted his rifle and got the ivory bead snugly fitted +into the notch of the rear sight with his eye, he would not have bet +two-bits that he was aiming at an animal. He pulled the trigger with a +steady crooking of his forefinger and the whole gulch clamored with the +noise. The object over there leaped high, came down heavily, and +rolled ten feet down the hill to another level, where it bounded three +or four times convulsively, slid a few feet farther, and lay still +behind a bush. +</P> + +<P> +"Got you that time, you old Turk, if you did nearly fool me playing you +were part of the scenery." Ward slid recklessly down to the bottom, +sought a narrow place, jumped the creek, and climbed exultantly to +where the wolf lay twisted on its back, its eyes half open and glazed, +its jaws parted in a sardonic grin. Ward grinned also as he looked at +it. He gave the carcass a poke with his boot-toe and glanced up the +hill toward the rocks. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe you were playing lookout for the bunch," he said, "and then +again, maybe you ain't hooked up with a family; though from the looks, +you ain't weaned your pups yet—till just now." Leaving the wolf where +she lay, he climbed to the rocks where he had first seen her. They lay +high piled, but he could see daylight through every open space and so +knew there was no den. The base rested solidly on the yellow earth. +</P> + +<P> +Ward stood and looked at the slope below. To the right and half-way +down was a ten-foot ledge, and below that outcropped a steep bank of +earth. He could not see what lay immediately below, but while he was +still staring, a pointed, gray nose topped by pert, gray ears poked +cautiously over the bank, hovered there sniffing, and dropped back out +of sight. +</P> + +<P> +"You little son-of-a-gun!" he exclaimed and dug in his heels on the +sharp descent. "I've got you right where I want you, now." +</P> + +<P> +The den was tunneled into the earth just over another ledge, which +underlay the bank there, and gave a sheer drop of ten or fifteen feet +to the slope below, where a thick fringe of blossoming cherry bushes +grew close and hid the ledge so completely that the den had been +perfectly concealed from across the gulch. It was a case where the +shovel was needed. Ward "flagged" the den by throwing his coat down +before the opening and went back to where Rattler waited. He was +jubilant over his good luck. With an average litter of pups, and the +old wolf besides, the bounty would make those two calves the most +profitable animals in the bunch, reckoned on the basis of money +invested in them. +</P> + +<P> +With the shovel he enlarged the tunnel, and between strokes he heard +the whimpering of the pups. The sound sobered his face to a pitying +determination. Poor little devils, it was not their fault that they +were born to be a menace rather than a help to mankind. He was sorry +for their terror, while he dug back to where they huddled against the +farthest wall of their nest. He worked fast that he might the sooner +end their discomfort, and his forehead was puckered into a frown at the +harsh law of life that it must preserve its existence at the expense of +some other life. Yet he dug back and back, burrowing into the bank +toward the whimpering. It was farther than he had thought, but the +soil was a loose sand and gravel, and he made good headway. +</P> + +<P> +Then, laying down his shovel, he reached into a hysterical squirm of +soft hair and sharp little teeth that snapped at his gloved hand. One +by one he hauled them out, whining, biting, struggling like the little +savages they were. One by one he sent them into oblivion with a sharp +tap of the shovel. There were eight, just big enough to make little, +investigative trips outside the den when all was quiet. Ward was glad +he had found them and wiped them out of existence, but it had not been +pleasant work. +</P> + +<P> +He wiped the perspiration off his face with his handkerchief, pushed +his hat to the back of his head, and sat down on the ledge beside the +pile of dirt he had thrown out. He felt the need of a smoke, after all +that exertion. +</P> + +<P> +It was while he was smoking and resting that he first became conscious +of the pile of dirt as something more than the obstacle between himself +and the wolf-pups. He blew a little cloud of smoke from his mouth, +leaned and lifted a handful of sand, picked something out of it, and +looked at it intently. He said "Humph!" skeptically. Then he turned +his head and stared at the ledge above and to the right of him, twisted +half around and scanned the steep slope immediately above the earth +bank, and then looked at the gulch beneath him. He took his cigarette +from his lips, said, "Well, I'll be darned!" and put it back again. +With his forefinger he turned over a small, rusty lump the size of a +pea, wiped it upon his sleeve, and bent over it eagerly, holding it so +that the light struck it revealingly. His face glowed. Save the want +of tenderness in his eyes, he looked as though Billy Louise stood +before him; the same guarded gladness, the same intent eagerness. +</P> + +<P> +Ward sprawled over that pile of gravel and sand and searched with his +fingers, as young girls search a thick bank of clover for the magic +four leaves. He found one other small lump that he kept, but beyond +that his search was barren of result. Still, that glow remained in his +face. Finally he roused himself as though he realized that he was +behaving foolishly. He made himself another cigarette and smoked it +fast, keeping pace with his shuttling thoughts. And by the time the +paper tube was burned down to an inch-long stub, he had won back his +manner of imperturbable calm; only his eyes betrayed a hidden +excitement. +</P> + +<P> +"Looks like there's money in wolves," he said aloud and laughed a +little. "Old Lady Fortune, you want to watch out, or I'm liable to get +the best of you yet! Looks like I've got a hand to draw to, now. +Youp-<I>ee-ee</I>!" His forced imperturbability exploded in the yell, and +after that he moved briskly. +</P> + +<P> +"I've got to play safe on this," he warned himself, while he scalped +the last of the pups. "No use getting rattled. If she's good as she +looks, she's fine. She'll help boost my little bunch of cattle, and +that's all I want. I ain't going to go hog-wild over it, like so many +do." +</P> + +<P> +He went over and skinned the mother wolf, and with the pelts in a +strong-smelling bundle, returned to the sand pile and filled his +neckerchief as full as he could tie it. Then he went down into the +gulch, jumped the creek with his load—and got a foot wet where his +boot leaked along the sole—and climbed hurriedly up to where Rattler +waited and dozed in the sunshine, with the reins dropped to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +Rattler objected to those fresh wolf-skins, and Ward lifted a +disciplinary boot-toe to his ribs. His mood did not accept patiently +any unnecessary delay in getting home, and he succeeded in making +Rattler aware of his mood. Rattler laid back his ears and took the +trail in long, rabbit-jumps for spite, risking his own and his master's +bones unchecked and unchided. The pace pleased Ward, and to the risk +he gave no thought. He was reconstructing his air-castles on broader +lines and smiling now and then to himself. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +HELP FOR THE COW BUSINESS +</H4> + +<P> +He had no goldpan of his own, since this was not a mining country, and +his ambition had run in a different channel. He, therefore, took the +tin washbasin down to the creek and dumped the sand into it. Then, +squatting on his boot-heels at the edge of the stream, he filled the +basin with water and rocked it gently with a rotary motion that proved +him no novice at the work. His eyes were sharper and more intent in +their gaze than Billy Louise had ever seen them, and, though his +movements were unhurried, they were full of eagerness held in leash. +</P> + +<P> +Several times he refilled the basin, and the amount of sand grew less +and less, until there remained only a few spoonfuls of coarse gravel +and a sediment that clung to the bottom of the basin and moved +sluggishly around and around. He picked out the tiny pebbles one by +one and threw them in the creek. He peered sharply at a small bit and +held it in his fingers, while he bent his face close to the pan, his +eyes two gimlets boring into the contents. +</P> + +<P> +He got up stiffly, backed, and sat down upon the low bank with his feet +far apart and his shoulders bent, while he stared at the little bit of +mineral in his fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"Coarse gold, and not such a hell of a lot," he pronounced to himself +with careful impartiality. "But it's pay dirt, and if there's enough +of it, it'll help a lot at this end of the cow business." He sat there +a long time, thinking and planning and holding himself sternly to cold +reality, rejecting every possibility that had the slightest symptom of +being an air-castle. He did not intend to let this thing turn his head +or betray him into any foolishness whatsoever. He was going to look at +the thing cold-bloodedly and put his imagination in cold storage for +the present. +</P> + +<P> +His first impulse—to ride straight to the Wolverine and show Billy +Louise these three tiny nuggets—he rejected as a bit of foolishness. +He was perfectly willing to trust Billy Louise with any secret he +possessed, but he knew that he would be feeding her imagination with +dangerous fuel. She would begin dreaming and building castles and +prospecting for herself, very likely; and that trail led oftenest to +black disappointment. If he made good, he would tell her—when he told +her something else. And if the whole thing were just a fluke, a stray +deposit of a little gold that did not amount to anything, then it would +be best for her to know nothing about it. Ward felt in himself, at +that moment, the keen foretaste of bitter disappointment which would +follow such a certainty. He did not want Billy Louise exposed to that +pain. +</P> + +<P> +He would tell her about the wolves, of course. It was pretty hard not +to tell her everything that concerned himself, but the streak of native +reticence in his nature had been strengthened by the vicissitudes of +the life he had lived. While Billy Louise had found the sole weak +point which made that reticence scarcely a barrier to full confidence, +still he knew that he would keep this from her if he made up his mind +to it. +</P> + +<P> +He would not tell anybody. He raised his head and looked at the hills +where his cattle would feed, and pictured it cluttered with +gold-hunters, greedy, undesirable interlopers doomed to disappointment +in the long run. Ward had seen the gold fever sweep through a +community and spoil life for the weak ones who took to chasing the +will-o'-the-wisp of sudden wealth. Tramps of the pick-and-pan +brigade—they should not come swarming into these hills on any +wild-goose chase, if he could help it. And he could and should. This +was not, properly speaking, a gold country. He knew it. The rock +formations did not point to any great deposit of the mineral, and if he +had found one, it was a fluke, an accident. He resolved that his first +consideration should be the keeping of his secret for the mental +well-being of his fellows. +</P> + +<P> +Ward did not put it quite so altruistically. His thoughts formed into +sentences. +</P> + +<P> +"This is cattle country. If men want to hunt gold, they can do their +hunting somewhere else. They can't go digging up the whole blamed +country just on the chance of finding another pocket like this one. +I'm in the cattle business myself. If I find any gold, it'll go into +cattle and stay there; and there won't be any long-haired freaks +pestering around here if I can help it, and I reckon maybe I can, all +right. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd sure like to talk it over with Billy, but what she don't know +won't worry her; and I don't know yet what I've gone up against. Maybe +old Dame Fortune's just played another joke on me—played me for a fool +again. I'll take a chance, but I won't give that little girl down +below there anything to spoil her sleep." +</P> + +<P> +Ward's memory was like glue, and while it held things he would give +much to forget, still it served him well. He had ridden past a tiny, +partly caved-in dugout, months ago, where some wandering prospector had +camped while he braved the barrenness of the bills and streams +hereabout. Ward had dismounted and glanced into the cavelike hut. +Now, after he had eaten a few mouthfuls of dinner, he rode straight +over to that dugout and got the goldpan he remembered to have seen +there. It was not in the best condition, of course. It was battered +and bent, but it would do for the present. +</P> + +<P> +By the time he reached the wolf den, the sun was nearing the western +rim of hills, but Ward had time to examine the locality more carefully +than he had done at first and to wash a couple of pans of gravel. The +test elated him perceptibly; for while there did not seem to be the +makings of a millionaire in that gravel bank, he judged roughly that he +could make a plumber's wages if he worked hard enough—and that looked +pretty good to a fellow who had worked all his life for forty dollars a +month. "Two-bits a pan, just about," he put it to himself. "And I'll +have to pack the dirt down here to the creek; but I'll dig a nice +little bunch of cattle out of that gravel bank before snow flies, or I +miss my guess a mile." +</P> + +<P> +As nearly as he could figure, he had chanced upon a split channel. For +ages, he judged, the water had run upon that ledge, leaving the streak +of gravel and what little gold it had carried down from the mountains. +Then some freshet had worn over the edge of the break in the rock until +the ledge and its deposit was left high and dry on the side of the +gulch, while the creek flowed through the gully it had formed below. +It might not be the correct explanation, but it satisfied Ward and +encouraged him to believe that the streak of pay gravel lay along the +ledge within easy reach. +</P> + +<P> +He tried to trace the ledge up and down the gulch and to estimate the +probable extent of that pay streak. Then he gave it up in +self-defense. "I've got to watch my dodgers," he admonished himself, +"or I'll go plumb loco and imagine I'm a millionaire. I'll pan what I +can get at and let it go at that. And I've got to count what gold +shows up in the sack—and no more. Good Lord! I can't afford to make +a fool of myself at this stage of the game! I've got to sit right down +on my imagination and stick to hard-boiled facts." +</P> + +<P> +He went home in a very good humor with himself and the world, for all +that. So far as he could see, the thing that had been bothering him +was settled most satisfactorily. He had wanted to spend the summer on +his claim, making improvements and watching over his cattle. There was +fence to build and some hay to cut; and he would like to build another +room on to the cabin. Ward had certain fastidious instincts, and he +rebelled inwardly at eating, sleeping, and cooking all in one small +room. But he had not been able to solve the problem of earning a +living while he did all this—to say nothing of buying supplies. And +he really needed a team and tools, if he meant to put up any hay. +</P> + +<P> +Now, with that pay gravel within reach, and the gold running +twenty-five cents to the pan, and the occasional tiny nuggets jumping +up the yield now and then, he could go ahead and do the things he +wanted to do. And he could dream about having a certain gray-eyed girl +for his wife, without calling himself names afterward. +</P> + +<P> +So he set to work the next morning in dead earnest with pick, shovel, +and pan, to make the most of his little find. He shoveled the dirt and +gravel into a gunny sack, threw the sack as far as he could over the +ledge at the end, where it was not hidden and cluttered with the +cherry-trees and service berries below, and when it stopped rolling, he +carried it the rest of the way. Then he panned it in the little creek, +watching like a hawk for nuggets and the finer gold. It was +back-breaking work, and he felt that he earned every cent he got. But +the cents were there, in good gold, and he was perfectly willing to +work for what he received in this world. +</P> + +<P> +After a couple of weeks he stopped long enough to make a hurried trip +to Hardup, a little town forty miles farther up in the hills. In the +little bank there he exchanged his gold harvest for coin of the realm, +and he was well satisfied with the result. It was not a fortune, nor +was he likely to find one in the hills. But he bought a team, wagon, +and harness with the money, and he had enough left over for a +two-months' grubstake and plenty of Durham and papers and a few +magazines. That left him just enough silver to pay Rattler's bill at +the livery stable. Nothing startling, but still not bad—that wolf-den +find. +</P> + +<P> +He had a lot of trouble getting his wagon to his claim, but by +judicious driving and the liberal use of a log-chain for a rough lock, +he managed to land the whole outfit in the little flat before the cabin +without any mishap. After that he settled down to work the thing +systematically. +</P> + +<P> +One day he would pan the sandy gravel, and the next day he would rest +his back digging post-holes or something comparatively easy. He worked +from daybreak until it was too dark to see, and he never left his claim +except when he went to wash gold up in the gulch. The world moved on, +and he neither knew nor cared how it moved; for the time being his +world had narrowed amazingly. If Billy Louise had not been down there +in that other world, he would scarcely have given it a thought, so +absorbed was he in the delightful task of putting a good, solid +foundation under his favorite air-castle. That fascinated him, held +him to his work in spite of his hunger to see her and talk with her and +watch the changing lights in her eyes and the fleeting expressions of +her face. +</P> + +<P> +Some day he hoped he would have her with him always. He put it +stronger than that: Some day he would have her with him, there in that +little valley he had chosen; riding with him over those hills that +smiled and seemed to stand there waiting for their invasions, with the +echoes ready to fling back his exultant voice when he called to her or +sang for her or laughed at her; ready to imitate enviously her voice +when she laughed back at him. He wanted that day to come soon, and so +with days and hours and minutes he became a miser and would not spend +them in the luxury of a visit to her. It seemed to him that his +longing for her measured itself by the enormous appetite he had for +work, that summer. +</P> + +<P> +Week followed week as he followed that thin, fluctuating streak of pay +gravel along the ledge. Sometimes it was rich enough to set the pulse +pounding in his temples; sometimes it was so poor that he was disgusted +to the point of abandoning the work. But every day he worked, it +yielded him something—though there was a week when he averaged about +fifty cents a day and lived with a scowl on his face—and he kept at it. +</P> + +<P> +He went out in June and bought a mower and rake and then spent precious +days getting them into his valley. There was no road, you see, and he +was compelled to haul them in a wagon, through country where nature +never meant four wheels to pass. He hired a man for a month—one of +those migratory individuals who works for a week or a month in one +place and then wanders on till his money is spent—and he drove that +man as relentlessly as he drove himself. Together they accomplished +much, while the goldpan lay hidden under a buck brush and Ward's waking +moments were filled with an uneasy sense of wasted time. Still, it was +for the good of his ranch and his cattle and his air-castle that he +toiled in the gulch, and it was necessary that he should put up what +hay he could. There would be calves to feed next winter, he hoped; and +when the hardest storms came, his horse would need a little. The rest +of the stock would have to rustle; and that was why he had chosen this +nook among the hills, where the wind would sweep the high slopes bare +of snow, and the gulches would give shelter with their heavy thickets +of quaking aspens and willow and alder. +</P> + +<P> +He was thankful when the creek bottom was shaved clean of grass, and +the stack beside his corral was of a satisfying length and height. The +summer had been kind to the grass-growth, and his hay crop was larger +than he had expected. A few days had remained of the month, and Ward +had used them to extend his fence so as to give more pasturage to his +calves in mild weather. After that he paid the man, directed him to +the nearest point on the stage road, and breathed thanks that he was +alone again, and could go back to his plan of digging a nice little +hunch of cattle out of that bank before snow flew. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +WHEN EMOTIONS ARE BOTTLED +</H4> + +<P> +One day, when the sun was warm and the breeze that filtered down the +gorge was pleasantly cool, Ward straightened his aching back, waded out +to dry ground, and sat down to rest a few minutes and make a smoke. +His interest in the work had oozed steadily since sunrise, and left +nothing but the back-breaking toil. He had found a nugget the size of +a hazelnut in the second pan that morning, so it was not discouragement +that had made his monotonous movements grow slow and reluctant. Until +he had smoked half the cigarette, he himself did not know what it was +that ailed him. Then he flung up his head quite suddenly and gave a +snort of understanding. +</P> + +<P> +"Hang the gold! I'm going visiting for a change." +</P> + +<P> +He concealed the goldpan and his pick, shovel, and sacks in the clump +of service berries and chokeberries that grew at the foot of the ledge +and hid from view the bank where he dug out his pay dirt. That did not +take more than two or three minutes, and he made them up after he had +swung into the saddle on the farther hillside. It was not a good +trail, and except for his first exultant ride home that way, he had +ridden it at a walk. Now he made Rattler trot where loping was too +risky; and so he came clattering down the steep trail into the little +flat beside his cabin. He would have something to eat, and feed +Rattler a little hay, and then ride on to the Wolverine. And now that +he had yielded to his hunger to see the one person in the world for +whom he felt any tenderness, he grudged every minute that separated him +from her. He loosened the cinch with one or two yanks and left the +saddle on Rattler, to save time. He turned him loose in the hay corral +with the bridle off, rather than spend the extra minutes it would take +to put him in a stall and carry him a forkful of hay. He thought he +would not bother to start a fire and boil coffee; he would eat the +sour-dough bread and fried rabbit hams he had taken with him for lunch, +and he would start down the creek in half an hour. He imagined himself +an extremely sensible young man and considerate of his horse's comfort, +to give him thirty precious minutes in which to eat hay. It was not +absolutely necessary; Rattler could travel forty miles instead of +twenty without another mouthful, so far as that was concerned. Ward +was simply behaving in a perfectly normal manner and was not letting +his feelings get the better of him in the slightest degree. As to his +impromptu vacation, he was certainly entitled to it; he ought to have +taken one long ago, he told himself virtuously. He had panned dirt all +day, the Fourth of July; that was last week, he believed. And he had +not made more than two dollars, either. No, he was not behaving +foolishly at all. He had himself well in hand. +</P> + +<P> +Then he flung open the door of his cabin and went white with sheer +astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lo, Ward!" Billy Louise had been standing behind the door, and she +jumped out at him, laughing, just as if she were ten years old instead +of nearly twenty. +</P> + +<P> +Ward tried to say, "'Lo, Bill," in return, but the words would not +come. His lips trembled too much, and his voice was pinched out in his +throat. His mind refused to tell him what he ought to do; but his arms +did not wait upon his paralyzed mental processes. They shot out of +their own accord, caught Billy Louise, and brought her close against +his pounding heart. Ward was startled and a little shocked at what he +had done, but he held her closer and closer, until Billy Louise was +gasping from something more than surprise. +</P> + +<P> +Next, Ward's lips joined the mutiny against his reason, and laid +themselves upon the parted, panting lips of Billy Louise, as though +that was where they belonged. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise had probably not expected anything like that, though of a +truth one can never safely guess at what is in the mind of a girl. She +tried to pull herself free, and when she could make no impression upon +the grip of those arms—they had been growing muscles of iron +manipulating that goldpan, remember!—she very sensibly yielded to +necessity and stood still. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop, Ward! You—I—you haven't any right to—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, give me the right, then." Ward managed to find voice enough to +make the demand, and then he kissed her many times before he attempted +to say another word. Lord, but he had been hungry for her, these last +three months! +</P> + +<P> +"You'll give me the right, won't you, Wilhemina?" he murmured against +her ear, brushing a lock of hair away with his lips. "You know you +belong to me, don't you? And I belong to you—body and soul. You know +that, don't you? I've known it ever since the world was made. I knew +it when God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light. You were +it." +</P> + +<P> +"You sill-y thing." Billy Louise did not seem to know whether she +wanted to laugh or cry. "What do you think you're talking about, +anyway?" +</P> + +<P> +"About the way the world was made." Ward loosened his clasp a little +and looked down deep into her eyes. "My world, I mean." He bent and +kissed her again, gravely and very, very tenderly. "Oh, Wilhemina, you +know—" he waited, gazing down with that intent look which had a new +softness behind it—"you know there's nothing in this world but you. +As far as I'm concerned, there isn't. There never will be." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise reached up her hands to his shoulders and tried to give +him a shake. "Is that why you've stuck yourself in these hills for +three whole months and never come near? You fibber!" +</P> + +<P> +"That's why, lady-girl. I've been sticking here, working like one +son-of-a-gun—for you. So I could have you sooner." He lifted his +bent head and looked around the little cabin like a man who has just +wakened to his surroundings. "I knocked off work a little while ago, +and I was going to see you. I couldn't stand it any longer. And—here +you iss!" he went on, giving her shoulders a little squeeze. "A +straight case of 'two souls with but a single thought,' don't you +reckon?" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise, by a visible effort, brought the situation down to earth. +She twisted herself free and went over to the stove and saved a +frying-pan of potatoes from burning to a crisp. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know about your soul," she said, glancing back at him. "I +happen to have two or three thoughts in mine. One is that I'm half +starved. The second is that you're not acting a bit nice, under the +circumstances; no perfectly polite young man makes love to a girl when +she is supposedly helpless and under his protection." She stopped +there to wrinkle her nose at him and twist her mouth humorously. "The +third thought is that if you don't behave, I shall go straight home and +never be nice to you again. And," she added, getting back of the +coffee-pot—which looked new—"the rest of my soul is one great big +blob of question-marks. If you can eat and talk at the same time, you +may tell me what this frantic industry is all about. If you can't, +I'll have to wait till after dinner; not even my curiosity is going to +punish my poor tummy any longer." She pulled a pan of biscuits from +the oven, lifted them out one at a time with dainty little nabs because +they were hot, and stole a glance now and then at Ward from under her +eyebrows. +</P> + +<P> +Ward stood and looked at her until the food was all on the table. He +was breathing unnaturally, and his jaws were set hard together. When +she pushed a box up to the table and sat down upon it, and rested her +elbows on the oilcloth and looked straight at him with her chin nested +in her two palms, he drew a long breath, hunched his shoulders with +some mental surrender, and grinned wryly. +</P> + +<P> +"So be it," he yielded, throwing his hat upon the bunk. "I kinda +overplayed my hand, anyway. I most humbly ask your pardon!" He bowed +farcically and took up the wash-basin from its bench just outside the +door. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, William Louisa," he went on quizzically, when he had seated +himself opposite her and was helping himself to the potatoes, "when a +young lady invades strange territory, and hides behind strange doors, +and jumps out at an unsuspecting but terribly well-meaning young man, +she's apt to get a surprise. When emotions are bottled—" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind the bottled emotions. I'd like some potatoes, if you don't +want them all. I see you haven't the faintest idea how to treat a +guest. Charlie Fox would have died before he would help himself and +set down the dish away out of my reach. You could stick pins into him +till he howled, but you couldn't make him be rude to a lady." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd sure like to," muttered Ward ambiguously and handed her every bit +of food within his reach. +</P> + +<P> +"You can talk and eat at the same time, I see. So tell me what you've +been doing all this while." Billy Louise spoke lightly, even +flippantly, but her eyes were making love to him shyly, whether she +knew it or not. +</P> + +<P> +"Working," answered Ward promptly and briefly. He was thinking at the +rate of a million thoughts a minute, it seemed to him, and he was +afraid to let go of himself and say what he thought. One thing he knew +beyond all doubt, and that was that he must be careful or he would see +his air-castle blow up in small fragments and come down a hopeless +ruin. He needed time to think, and Billy Louise was not giving him +even a minute. So he clutched at two decisions which instinct told him +might help him win to safety: He would not make love, and he would not +tell Billy Louise about the gold. +</P> + +<P> +"Working! Well, so have I. But working at what? Did you hire out to +Junkins again? I thought you said you wouldn't till fall." Billy +Louise was watching Ward rather closely, perhaps to see how far she +might trust his recovered inscrutability. "Why don't you show some +human inquisitiveness about my being here?" she asked irrelevantly, +just as Ward was hastily choosing how he would answer her without +saying too much. +</P> + +<P> +"It wouldn't be polite to be inquisitive about a lady, would it?" Ward +retorted, thankful for the change of subject. +</P> + +<P> +"N-no—but, then, you never bother about being just polite! Charlie +Fox would—" +</P> + +<P> +"Charlie Fox would think you came to see him," Ward asserted +uncharitably. "My head isn't swelled to that extent. Why did you +come, anyway?" +</P> + +<P> +"To see you." Billy Louise lost her nerve when she saw the light leap +into his eyes. "To see whether you were dead or not," she revised +hastily, "so mommie would stop worrying about you. Mommie has pestered +the life out of me for the last month, thinking you might be sick or +hurt or something. So—I was riding up this way, anyway, and—" +</P> + +<P> +"I see I'll have to ride down and prove to mommie that I'm very much +alive. I'm sure glad to know that somebody takes an interest in me—as +if I were a real human." Ward's eyes watched furtively her face, but +Billy Louise refused even to nibble at the bait. +</P> + +<P> +"Why didn't you come before, then? You know mommie likes to have you." +</P> + +<P> +"How about mommie's child?" Ward's look was dangerous to his good +resolutions. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen here, Ward." Billy Louise took refuge behind her terrible +frankness. "If you make love, I won't like you half as well. Don't +you know that all the time when I used to play with my pretend Ward +Warren, he—he never made love?" A dimple tried to show itself in her +cheek and was sent about its business with a twist of her lips. "My +pretend Ward was lovely; he liked me to pieces, but he never came right +out and said so. He—he skated around the subject—" Billy Louise +illustrated the skating process by drawing her forefinger in a wide +circle around her cup. "He made love—with his eyes—and he kissed me +with his—voice—but he never spoiled it with words." +</P> + +<P> +Ward grunted a word that sounded like "damchump." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing of the kind!" Billy Louise flew to the defense of her +"pretend." "He knew just exactly how a girl likes to be made love to. +And, anyway, you've been doing the selfsame thing yourself, Ward +Warren, till just now. And—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, have I?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you have. And I might have known better than to—to startle you. +You always, eternally, do something nobody'd ever dream of your doing. +The first time, when I threw that chip, you pulled a gun on me—" The +voice of Billy Louise squeezed down to a wisp of a whisper. Her eyes +were remorseful. "Oh, Ward, I didn't mean to—to—" +</P> + +<P> +"It's all right. I've got it coming." It was as if a mask had dropped +before Ward's features. Even his eyes looked strange and hard in that +face of set muscles, though the thin, bitter lips and quivering +nostrils showed that there was feeling behind it all. "I see where +you're right, William. You needn't be afraid; I won't make love again." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise looked as though she wanted to beat something—herself, +most likely. She stared as they stare who watch from the dock while a +loved one slips farther and farther away on a voyage from which there +may be no return; only Billy Louise was not one to watch and do nothing +else. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Ward, don't be silly." The fright in her voice was overlaid with +a sharpened tenderness. "You know perfectly well I didn't mean that. +You're only proving that in the human problem you're raised to— Stop +looking darning-needles at that coffee-pot and listen here!" Billy +Louise leaned over the table and caught at his nearest hand, which was +a closed fist. With her own little fingers digging persistently into +the tensed muscles, she pried the fist open. "Ward, behave yourself, +or I'll go straight home!" She held his straightened fingers in her +own and drew a sharp breath because they lay inert—dead things so far +as any response came to her clasp; the first and middle fingers +yellowed a little from cigarettes, the nails soft and pink from much +immersion in water. A tale they told, if Billy Louise had been paying +attention. +</P> + +<P> +"Ward, you certainly are—the limit! You know as well as I do that +that doesn't make a particle of difference. If I had been a boy +instead of a girl, and had bucked the world for a living, I'd probably +have done worse; and, anyway, it doesn't matter!" Her voice rose as if +she were growing desperate. "I—I—like you—to pieces, Ward, and +I'd—I'd rather marry you—than anyone else. But I don't want to think +about that for a long while. I don't want to be engaged, or—or any +different than the way we've been. It was good to be just pals. It +was like my pretend Ward. I—I always wanted him—to love me, but I +wouldn't play that he—told me, Ward. Oh, don't you see?" She shut +her teeth hard together, because if she hadn't she would have been +crying in another ten seconds. +</P> + +<P> +"I see." Ward spoke dully, evenly, and he still stared at the +coffee-pot with that gimlet gaze of his that made Billy Louise want to +scream. "I see a whole lot that I'd been shutting my eyes to. Why +don't you feel insulted—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ward Warren, if you're going to act like a—a—" I suspect that Billy +Louise, in her desperation, was tempted to use a swear word, but she +resisted the temptation. She got up and went around to him, hesitated +while she looked down at his set face, drew a long breath, and blinked +back some tears of self-reproach because of the devils of memory she +had unwittingly turned loose to jibe at this man. +</P> + +<P> +"This is why," she said softly; and leaning, she pressed her lips down +upon his bitter ones and let them lie there for a dozen heart-beats. +</P> + +<P> +Ward's face relaxed, and his eyes went to hers with the hungry +tenderness she had seen so often there. He leaned his head against her +and threw up an arm to clasp her close. He did not say a word. +</P> + +<P> +"After I have kissed a man," said Billy Louise, struggling back to her +old whimsical manner, "it won't be a bit polite for him to have any +doubts of my feelings toward him, or my belief in him, or his belief in +himself." Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, just where the +wave was the most pronounced. +</P> + +<P> +She had drawn the poison. Now she set herself to restore a perfectly +normal atmosphere. +</P> + +<P> +"He's going to be just exactly the same good pal he was before," she +went on, speaking softly. "And he's going to bring some water so I can +wash the dishes, and then bring Blue so I can go home, and he isn't +going to say a single thing more about—anything that matters two +whoops." +</P> + +<P> +Ward's clasp tightened and then grew loose. He drew a long breath and +let her go. +</P> + +<P> +"You do like me—a little bit, don't you?" His eyes were like the eyes +of the damned asking for water. +</P> + +<P> +"I like you two little bits." Billy Louise took his face between her +two palms and smiled down at him bravely, with the pure candor that was +a part of her. "But I don't want us to be anything but pals; not for a +long while. It's so good, just being friends. And once we get away +from that point, we can't go back to it again, ever. And I'm sure it's +good enough to be worth while making it last as long as we can. So +now—" +</P> + +<P> +"It's going to be quite a contract, Wilhemina." Ward still looked at +her with his heart in his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, it won't! You've had lots of practice," Billy Louise assured +him confidently and began putting the few dishes in a neat little pile. +"And, anyway, you are perfectly able to handle any kind of a contract. +All you need do is make up your mind. And that's made up already. So +the next thing on the programme is to bring a bucket of water. Did you +notice anything different about your cabin? I thought you bragged to +me about being such a good housekeeper! Why, you hadn't swept the +floor, even, since goodness knows when. And I've made up a bundle of +your dirty shirts and things that I found under the bed, and I'm going +to take them home and let Phoebe wash them. She can do them this +evening and have them ready for you to bring back to-morrow. When I +was a kid and went to see Marthy and Jase, I used to promise them +cookies with 'raisings' in the middle. I thought there was nothing +better in the world. I was just thinking—I'll maybe bake you some +cookies with raisings on top, to bring home. You don't seem to waste +much time cooking stuff. Bacon and beans, and potatoes and sour-dough +bread: that seems to be your regular bill of fare. And tomatoes for +Sunday, I reckon; I saw some empty cans outside. Don't you ever feel +like coming down to the ranch and getting a square meal?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you William the Conqueror!" Ward stood with the water bucket in +his hand, and looked at her with that smile hidden just behind his lips +and his eyes. "You sure sabe how to make things come your way, don't +you?" He started for the door, stopped with his toes over the +threshold, and looked back at her. "If I knew how to get what I want, +as easily as you do," he said, "we'd be married and keeping house +before to-morrow night!" He laughed grimly at the start she gave. "As +it is, you're the doctor, William Louisa. We remain mere friends!" +With that he went off to the creek. +</P> + +<P> +He was gone at least four times as long as was necessary, but he came +back whistling, and he did not make love to her except with his eyes. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THIS PAL BUSINESS +</H4> + +<P> +"You've got quite a lot of hay put up, I see," Billy Louise remarked, +when they were leaving. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure. I told you I've been working." Ward's tone was cheerful to the +point of exuberance. He felt as though he could work day and night +now, with the memory of Billy Louise's lips upon his own. +</P> + +<P> +"You never put up that hay alone," she told him bluntly, "and you +needn't try to make me believe you did. I know better." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know?" Ward glanced over his shoulder at the stack, then +humorously at her. He recognized the futility of trying to fool Billy +Louise, but he was in the mood to tease her. +</P> + +<P> +"Humph! I've helped stack hay myself, if you please. I can tell a +one-man stack when I see it. Who did you get to help? Junkins?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, a half-baked hobo I ran across. I had him here a month." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Are those your horses down there? They can't be." Last April, +Billy Louise had been very well informed as to Ward's resources. She +was evidently trying to match her knowledge of their well-defined +limitations with what she saw now of prosperity in its first stages. +</P> + +<P> +"They are, though. A dandy span of mares. I got a bargain there." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise pondered a minute. "Ward, you aren't going into debt, are +you?" Her tone was anxious. "It's so beastly hard to get out, once +you're in!" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't owe anybody a red cent, William Louisa. Honest." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, but—" Billy Louise looked at him from under puckered brows. +</P> + +<P> +Ward laughed oddly. "I've been working, William. Last spring +I—hunted wolves for awhile; old ones and dens. They'd killed a couple +of calves for me, and I got out after them. I—made good at it; the +bounty counts up pretty fast, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes-s, it does." Billy Louise bit her lips thoughtfully, turned and +looked back at the haystack, at the long line of new, wire fence, and +at the two heavy-set mares feeding contentedly along the creek. "There +must be money in wolves," she remarked evenly. +</P> + +<P> +"There is. At least, I made good money hunting them." The smile was +hiding behind Ward's lips again and threatening to come boldly to the +surface. "They haven't bothered you any, I hope?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Billy Louise, "they haven't. I guess they must be all up +your way." +</P> + +<P> +For the life of him Ward could not tell to a certainty whether there +was sarcasm in her tone or whether she spoke in perfect innocence. The +shrewdest of us deceive ourselves sometimes. Ward might have known he +could not fool Billy Louise, who had careworn experience of the cost of +ranch improvements and could figure almost the exact number of +wolf-bounties it would take to pay for what he had put into his claim. +Still, he was right in thinking she would not quiz him beyond a certain +point. She seemed to have reached that point quite suddenly, for she +did not say another word about Ward's affairs. +</P> + +<P> +"What all's been happening in the world, anyway?" he asked, when they +had exhausted some very trivial subjects. "Your world, I mean. +Anything new or startling taken place?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not a thing. Marthy was down last week and spent the day with us. I +never saw anybody change as much as she has. She looks almost neat, +these days. And she can't talk about anything but Charlie and how well +he's doing. She lets him do most of the managing, I think. And he had +some money left to him, this spring, and has put it into cattle. He +bought quite a lot of mixed stock from Seabeck and some from Winters +and Nelson, Marthy says. I passed some of his cattle coming up." +</P> + +<P> +"Going to have a rival in the business, am I?" Ward laughed. "I was +figuring on being the only thriving young cattle-king in this neck of +the woods, myself." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Charlie's in a fair way to beat you to it. I wish," sighed +Billy Louise, "some kind person would leave me a bunch of money. Don't +you? Cattle are coming up a little all the time. I'd like to own a +lot more than I do." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we—" Ward stopped and reconsidered. "If wolfing continues to +pay like it has done," he said, with a twitch of the lips, "I intend to +stick my little Y6 monogram on a few more cowhides before snow flies, +William. And when you've had enough of this friend business—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, by that time we'll all be rich!" Billy Louise declared lightly, +and for a wonder Ward was wise enough to let that close the subject. +</P> + +<P> +"We're getting neighbors down below, too," she observed later. "I +didn't tell you that. Down the river a few miles. The country is +settling up all the time," she sighed. "Pretty soon there won't be any +more wilderness left. I like it up where you've located. That will +stay wild forever, won't it? They can't plant spuds on those hills, +anyway. +</P> + +<P> +"And—did you hear, Ward? Seabeck and some of the others have been +losing stock, they say. You know Marthy lost four calves last fall, by +some means. Charlie Fox was terribly worried about it, though it was +his own fault, and—well, I thought at the time someone had taken them, +and I think so still. And just the other day one of Seabeck's men +stopped at the ranch, and he told me they're shy some cows and calves. +They can't imagine what went with them, and they're lying low and not +saying anything much about it. You haven't heard or seen anything, +have you, Ward?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've stuck so close to the hills I haven't heard or seen anything," +Ward affirmed. "It's amazing, the way the days slip by when a fellow's +busy all the time. Except for two trips out the other way, to Hardup, +I haven't been three miles from my claim all spring." +</P> + +<P> +"Hardup! That's where the bank was robbed, a few weeks ago, isn't it? +The stage-driver told me about it." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know; I hadn't heard anything about it. I haven't been there +for a month and more," said Ward easily. "Nearer two months, come to +think of it. I was there after a mower and rake and some wire." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" Billy Louise glanced at him sidelong and added several more +wolves to the number she had mentally put down to Ward's credit. +</P> + +<P> +Ward twisted in the saddle so that he faced her, and his eyes were +dancing with mischief. "Honest, William, I'm not wading into debt. +Every cent I've put into that place this summer I made hunting wolves. +That's a fact, Wilhemina." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you'd tell me how, so I can do it, too," Billy Louise sighed, +convinced by his tone and flat statement, yet feeling certain there was +some "catch" to it, after all. It was exactly like a riddle that +sounds perfectly plain and simple to the ears, and to the reason +utterly impossible. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I will—when you're through playing pals," he assured her +cruelly. Ward did not know women very well, but he believed curiosity +to be one of the strongest traits in the sex. "That's a bargain, +William Louisa, and I'll shake hands on it if you like. When you've +had enough of this just-friend business, I'll show you how I dig +dollars outa wolf-dens." He grinned at the puzzled face of her. It +was a riddle, and he had practically put the answer before her, and +still she could not see it. There was a little streak of devilment in +Ward, and happiness was uncovering the streak. +</P> + +<P> +"I never said I was crazy to know," Billy Louise squelched him +promptly. "Not that crazy, anyway. I'll live quite as long without +knowing, I reckon." +</P> + +<P> +She almost won her point—because Ward did not know women very well. +He hesitated, gave her a quick, questioning glance, and actually opened +his lips to tell her all about it. He got as far as, "Oh, well, I +suppose I'll have to—" when Billy Louise saw a rattlesnake in the +trail ahead and spurred up to kill it with her rope. She really was +crazy to know the answer to the riddle, but a rattlesnake will +interrupt anything from a proposal of marriage to a murder. +</P> + +<P> +Ward's fingers had gone into the pocket in his shirt where the nugget +he had found that morning was sagging the cloth a little. He had been +on the point of giving it to Billy Louise, but he let it stay where it +was and instead took down his own rope to get after the snake, that had +crawled under a bush and there showed a disposition to fight. And +since Blue was no fonder of rattlesnakes than he was of mud, Billy +Louise could not bring him close enough for a direct blow. +</P> + +<P> +"Get back, and I'll show you why I named this cayuse Rattler," Ward +shouted. "I'll bet I've killed five hundred snakes with him—" +</P> + +<P> +"Almost as many as you have wolves!" Billy Louise snapped back at him +and so lost her point just when she had practically gained it. Ward +certainly would not tell her, after that stab. +</P> + +<P> +Rattler perked his ears forward toward the strident buzzing which once +heard is never forgotten, and which is never heard without a tensing of +nerves. He sighted the snake, coiled and ready for war in the small +shade of a rabbit-bush. He circled the spot warily, his head turned +sidewise, and his eyes fixed upon the flattened, ugly head with its +thread of a darting tongue. +</P> + +<P> +Ward pulled his gun, "threw down" on the snake, and cut off its head +with a bullet. +</P> + +<P> +"I could have done that myself," Billy Louise asserted jealously. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I forgot. Next time I'll let you do the shooting. I was going +to show you how Rattler helps. He'll circle around just right so I can +make one swing of the rope do. But Mr. Snake stuck too close to that +rabbit brush; and I was afraid if I drove him out of there with my +rope, he'd get under those rocks. I'm sorry, Wilhemina. I didn't +think." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I can get all the snake-shooting I want, any time." Billy Louise +laughed good-humoredly. "I wish you'd give Blue a few lessons—the old +sinner!" +</P> + +<P> +"Not on your life, I won't." Ward leaned from the saddle, picked up +the snake by the tail, pinched off the rattles, and dropped the +repulsive thing to the ground with a slight shiver of relief. He gave +the rattles to Billy Louise. "I'm glad Blue does feel a wholesome +respect for rattlers; he'll take better care of himself—and his +mistress. With me it doesn't matter." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh—doesn't it?" asked Billy Louise, and there was that in her tone +that made Ward's heart give a flop. "There's some of Marthy's cattle +right ahead," she added hurriedly, seizing the first trifle with which +to neutralize the effect of that tone. +</P> + +<P> +"MK monogram," said Ward absently, reading the brand mechanically, as +is the habit of your true range man. "Pretty fresh, too. Must have +just bought them." +</P> + +<P> +"He got them a month or so ago," said Billy Louise. "Marthy says—" +</P> + +<P> +"A month?" Ward turned and gave the cow nearest him a keener look. +"Pretty good condition," he observed, quite idly. "Say, William, when +these hills get filled up with Y6es and big Ds, all these other scrub +critters will have to hunt new range, won't they?" +</P> + +<P> +"It will be a long while before the big Ds crowd out so much as a +crippled calf," Billy Louise answered pessimistically. "I lost two +nice heifers, a week or so ago. They broke through the upper fence +into the alfalfa and started to fill up, of course. They were dead +when I found them." +</P> + +<P> +"Next time I cash in my wolf—" Ward started to promise, but she cut +him short. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mind if we stop at the Cove, Ward? Mommie wanted me to stop +and get some currants. Marthy says they're ripe, and she has more than +she knows what to do with." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't mind—if you're dead sure it's the currants." +</P> + +<P> +"You certainly are in a pestering mood to-day," Billy Louise protested, +laughing. "You can't jump any game on that trail, smarty. Charlie Fox +is a perfectly lovely young man, but he's got a girl in Wyoming. The +stage-driver says there's never been a trip in that he didn't take a +letter from the Cove box to Miss Gertrude M. Shannon, Elk Valley, +Wyoming. So you needn't try—" +</P> + +<P> +"Nice, mouthy stage-driver," Ward commented. "Foxy ought to land on +him a few times and see if he'd take the hint." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I knew it before he told me. Marthy said last winter that +Charlie's engaged. He's trying to get prosperous enough to marry her +and bring her out to the Cove; it will be his when Marthy dies, anyway. +I must say Charlie's a hustler, all right. He keeps a man all the time +now, since he bought more cattle. Peter Howling Dog's working for him. +Charlie's tried to range-herd his cattle so he and Peter can gather +them alone; and he offered to look after mine, too, so I won't have so +much riding to do this hot weather. He's awfully nice, Ward, really. +I don't care if he is a rah-rah boy. And he isn't a bit in love with +me." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it possible," grinned Ward, "that any human man can come out West +and not fall in love with the Prairie Flower—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ward Warren, do you want me to—" +</P> + +<P> +"But it's breaking all the rules of romance, Bill-the-Conk!" Ward +persisted. "No story-sharp would ever stand for a thing like that. +Don't you know that the nice young man from college always takes notice +in the second chapter, says 'By Jove! What a little beauty!' in the +third, and from there on till the wind-up spends most of his time +running around in circles because the beautiful flower of the rancho +gives him the bad eye?" He twisted sidewise in the saddle, took a +half-hitch with the reins around the saddle-horn, and proceeded to +manufacture a cigarette while he went on with the burlesque. +</P> + +<P> +"It opened out according to Hoyle, a year ago, William. Nice young man +comes west. Finds Flower of the Rancho first rattle of the box, with +brave young buckaroo riding herd on her to beat four of a kind. Looks +like there's no chance for our young hero. Brave buckaroo has to hie +him forth to toil, however—" Ward paused long enough to light up, and +afterwards blow out the match carefully before dropping it in the +trail, "—at the humble sum of forty dollars per month. That leaves +our young hero on the job temporarily. Stick in a few chapters of +heart-burnings on the part of the brave buckaroo—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, no doubt!" from Billy Louise, who was trying not to giggle. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, he had 'em, far as that goes. Brave buckaroo had heart-burnings +enough for a Laura Jean Libbey romance. All according to Hoyle. Young +hero— Say, Bill, what's the matter with that gazabo, anyway? Hasn't +he got good eyesight, or what? Can't the chump see he's overlooking a +bet when—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you make me sick!" Billy Louise slashed at a ripening branch of +service berries with her quirt and scared Blue so that he lunged +against the romancer. "You men seem to think the girl has nothing to +say about it! You think we just sit and smile and wait for somebody to +snap his fingers, and we jump at him! You—" +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't I say there would be several chapters where the haughty beauty +keeps our young hero running around in circles, and the brave buckaroo +can't figure out whether he ought to buy a ring or more shells for his +six-gun?" +</P> + +<P> +"With the inference that she flops into his arms in the last chapter +and hides her maidenly blushes against the pocket where he keeps his +sack of Bull Durham and papers—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you Bill-the-Conk! It would be the brave buckaroo in the last +chapter then, would it?" Ward leaned close, swift tenderness putting +the teasing twinkle to flight from his eyes. "Our young hero smokes a +briar, Wilhemina-mine!" +</P> + +<P> +"We-el—don't skip!" cried Billy Louise, backing away from him with +more blushes than any girl could hope to hide behind a coat of tan. +"There's lots of chapters before the last. And you've got to read them +straight through and—no fair skipping!" +</P> + +<P> +"Wilhemina-mine!" Ward repeated the newly invented appellation, which +seemed to approach satisfactorily close to the line of forbidden +endearments. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, for pity's sake! I never knew you to act so." Billy Louise +scowled unconvincingly at him from a safe distance. +</P> + +<P> +"I never was kissed before," blurted Ward foolhardily, kicking Rattler +closer. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if that's what ails you, I'll see it doesn't happen again," +retorted Billy Louise squelchingly, and Ward's self-assurance was not +great enough to lift him over the barrier of that rebuff. +</P> + +<P> +They came upon Charlie Fox sitting on his horse beside the crude +mail-box, reading avidly a letter of many crisp, close-written pages. +Billy Louise flashed Ward an I-told-you-so glance. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, how do you do?" Charlie came out of cloudland with a start and +turned to them cordially, while he hastily folded the letter. "Going +down into the Cove? That's good. I was just up after the mail. How +are things up your way, Warren?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fine as silk." Ward's eyes swung briefly toward what he considered +the chief bit of fineness. +</P> + +<P> +"That's good. Trail's a little narrow for three, isn't it? I'll ride +ahead and open the gate." +</P> + +<P> +"They've got a new gate down here," said Billy Louise trivially. "I +forgot that important bit of news." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it is important—to us Covers," smiled Charlie, glancing back at +them. "No more bars to be left down accidentally. This gate shuts +itself, in case someone forgets." +</P> + +<P> +"And you haven't lost any more cattle, have you?" The question was a +statement, after Billy Louise's habit. +</P> + +<P> +"Not out of the Cove, at any rate. I—can't speak so positively as to +the outside stock—of course." +</P> + +<P> +"You've missed some?" Billy Louise never permitted a tone to slip past +her without tagging it immediately with plain English. Charlie's tone +had said something to which his words made no reference. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like to say that, Miss Louise. Very likely they have +stray—drifted, I mean—back toward their home ranch. Peter and I +can't keep cases very closely, of course." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise shifted uneasily in the saddle and pulled her eyebrows +together. "If you think you've lost some cattle, for heaven's sake why +don't you say so!" (Ward smiled to himself at her tone.) "If there's +anything I hate, it's hinting and never coming right out with anything. +Have you lost any?" +</P> + +<P> +Charlie turned with a hand on the cantle and faced her with polite +reproach. "Peter says we have," he admitted, with very evident +reluctance. "I hardly think so myself. I'd have to count them. I +know, of course, how many we've bought in the last year." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Peter knows more about it than you do," Billy Louise told him +bluntly. "If he has missed any, they're probably gone." +</P> + +<P> +"I was in hopes you would be on my side, Miss Louise." Charlie smiled +deprecatingly. "I've argued with Aunt Martha and Peter until— But I +didn't know you were a confirmed pessimist as well!" +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't neglect to put your brand on them, did you?" asked Billy +Louise cruelly. +</P> + +<P> +Charlie flushed under the sunburn. "Really, Miss Louise, you've no +mercy on a tenderfoot, have you?" he protested. "No, they are all +branded, really they are. Peter and Aunt Martha saw to that," he +confessed naïvely. +</P> + +<P> +"It seems queer," said Billy Louise, thinking aloud. "Ward, there +certainly is rustling going on around here; and no one seems to know a +thing beyond the mere fact that they're losing cattle. Seabeck has +lost some—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, are you sure?" Charlie's eyes widened perceptibly. "I hadn't +heard that. By Jove! It sort of makes a fellow feel shaky about going +into cattle very strong, doesn't it? It—it knocks off the profits +like the very deuce, to keep losing one here and there." +</P> + +<P> +"A fellow has to figure on a certain percentage of loss," said Ward. +"This the new gate?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." Charlie seemed relieved by the diversion. "Just merely a gate, +as you see; but we Covers are proud of every little improvement. Aunt +Martha comes up here every day, I verily believe, just to look at it +and admire it. The poor old soul never had any conveniences that she +couldn't make herself, you know, and she thinks this is great stuff. I +put this padlock on it so she can lock herself in, nights when I'm +away. She feels better with the gate locked. And then I've got a dog +that's as good as a company of soldiers himself. If either of you +happen down here when there's no one about, you will have to introduce +yourselves to Cerberus—so named because he guards the gates—not the +gate to Hades, please remember. Surbus, Aunt Martha calls him, which +is good Idahoese and seems to please him as well as any other. Just +speak to him by name—Surbus if you like—and he will be all right, I +think." He held open the gate for them to ride through and gave them a +comradely look and smile as they passed. +</P> + +<P> +Ward took in the details of the heavy gate that barred the gorge. He +did not know that he betrayed the fact even to the sharp eyes of Billy +Louise, but he could not quite bring himself to the point of meeting +Charlie Fox anywhere near half-way in his overtures for friendship. +</P> + +<P> +"The weight is so heavy that the gate shuts and latches itself, you +see," Charlie went on, mounting on the inside of the barrier and +following cheerfully after them. "But that doesn't satisfy Aunt +Martha. She and Surbus make a special pilgrimage up here every night." +</P> + +<P> +"She must be pretty nervous." Ward could not quite see why such +precautions were necessary in a country where no man locked his door +against the world. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, she is, though you wouldn't suspect it, would you? When one +thinks of the life she has lived, and how she pioneered in here when +the country was straight wilderness, and all that. Of course, I didn't +know her before Uncle Jason died—do you think she has changed since, +Miss Louise?" +</P> + +<P> +"Lots," Billy Louise assured him briefly. She was wondering why Ward +was so stiff and unnatural with Charlie Fox. +</P> + +<P> +"I think myself that the shock of losing him must have made the +difference in her. There's Surbus; how's that for a voice? And he's +just as blood-thirsty as he sounds, too. I'd hate to have him tackle +me in the gorge, on a dark night. He's too savage, though it's only +with strangers, and we don't see many of them. He almost ate Peter up, +when he first came. And he gave you quite a scare last spring, didn't +he, Miss Louise?" +</P> + +<P> +"He came within an ace of getting his head shot off," Billy Louise +qualified laconically. "Marthy came out just in the nick of time. I +absolutely refuse to be chewed up by any dog; and I don't care who he +belongs to." +</P> + +<P> +"Same here, William," approved Ward. +</P> + +<P> +Charlie laughed. "I see Surbus is not going to be popular with the +neighbors," he said easily. "I do feel very apologetic over him. But +Marthy wanted me to get a dog, and so when a fellow offered me this +one, I took him; and as Surbus happened to take a fancy to me, I didn't +realize what a savage brute he is, till he tackled Peter—and then Miss +Louise." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Miss Louise was perfectly able to defend herself, so you needn't +feel apologetic about that," said Billy Louise a trifle sharply. She +hated Surbus, and she was quite open in her hatred. "If he ever comes +at me again, and nobody calls him off, I shall shoot him." It was not +a threat, as she spoke it, but a plain statement of a fact. "You'd +better serve notice too, Ward. He's a nasty beast, and he'd just as +soon kill a person as not. He was going to jump for my throat. He was +crouched, just ready to spring—and I had my gun out—when Marthy saw +us and gave a yell fit to wake the dead. Surbus didn't jump, and I +didn't shoot. That's how close he came to being a dead dog." +</P> + +<P> +She glanced at Ward and then furtively at Charlie Fox. If expression +meant anything, Surbus was yet in danger of paying for that assault. +She caught Ward's truculent eye, smiled, and shook her head at him. +"We're pretty fair friends now," she said. "At least, we don't try to +kill each other whenever we meet. 'Armed neutrality' fits our case +fine." +</P> + +<P> +"I think I'll volunteer under your flag," said Ward. "I'll leave +Cerberus alone as long as he leaves me and my friends alone. But I'd +advise him not to start anything." +</P> + +<P> +"That's all Surbus or anyone else can ask. Come on, old fellow! +Pardon me," he added to his companions and rode past them to meet the +great, heavy-jowled dog. "Be still, Surbus. We're all friends, here." +</P> + +<P> +The dog lifted a non-committal glance to Ward's face, growled deep in +his chest, and dropped behind, nosing the tracks of Blue and Rattler as +if he would identify them and fix them in his memory for future use. +</P> + +<P> +Ward had never seen the Cove in summer. He looked about him curiously, +struck by the atmosphere of quiet plenty. Over the crude fence hung +fruit-laden branches from the jungle within. There was a smell of +ripening plums in the air, and the hum of bees. Somewhere in the +orchard a wild canary was singing. If he could live down here, he +thought, with Billy Louise and none other near, he would ask no odds of +the world or of heaven. He glanced at Charlie Fox enviously. Well, he +had a fairly well-sheltered place of his own, up there in the hills. +He could set out fruit and plants and things and have a little Eden of +his own; though of course it couldn't be like this place, sheltered as +it was from harsh winds by that high rock wall, and soaking in sunshine +all day long. Still, he could fix his place up a lot, with a little +time and thought and a good deal of hard work. +</P> + +<P> +He looked at Billy Louise and saw how the beauty of the place appealed +to her, and right there he decided to study horticulture so that he +could raise plums and apples and hollyhocks and things. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +WAS IT THE DOG? +</H4> + +<P> +"That old dame down there thinks a lot of you, William." Ward had +closed the gate and was preparing to remount. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, is there any reason why she shouldn't?" The tone of Billy +Louise was not far from petulant. +</P> + +<P> +"Not a reason. What's molla, Bill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing that I know of." Billy Louise lifted her eyes to the rock +cabbages on the cliff above them and tried to speak convincingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, there is. Something's gone wrong. Can't you tell a pal, +Wilhemina?" +</P> + +<P> +There was no resisting that tone. Billy Louise looked at him, and +though she still frowned, her eyes lightened a little. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I can't tell a pal—or anybody else. I don't know. Something's +different, down there. I don't know what it is, and I don't like it." +She thought a minute and then smiled with that little twist of the lips +Ward liked so much. "Maybe it's the dog," she guessed. "I never see +his ugly mug that I don't feel like taking a shot at him. I like dogs, +too, as a general thing. He's got a wicked heart! I know he has. +He'd like nothing better than to take a chunk out of me." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll go back and kill him; shall I, Bill Loo?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Some day maybe I'll get a chance at him myself. I've warned +Marthy, so—" +</P> + +<P> +"Are you dead sure it's the dog?" Ward looked at her with that +keenness of glance which was hard to meet if one wanted to keep a +secret from him. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" Billy Louise's tone did not invite further questioning. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, nothing! I just wondered." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't like Charlie; anybody can see that." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes? Foxy's a real nice young man." +</P> + +<P> +"But you don't like him. You never do like anybody—" +</P> + +<P> +"No?" Ward's smile dared her to persist in the accusation. "In that +case I've no business to be fooling around here when there's work to be +done. That Cove down there has roused a heap of brand-new wants in me, +Wilhemina. Gotta have an orchard up on Mill Creek, lady-fair. Gotta +have a flower garden and things that climb all over the house and smell +nice. Gotta have four times as much meadow as I've got now, and a +house full of books and pictures and things, and more cattle and +horses, and a yellow canary in a yellow cage singing his head off out +on the porch. Gotta work like one son-of-a-gun, Wilhemina, to get all +those things and get 'em quick, so I can stand some show of—getting +what I really do want." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, am I keeping you?" Billy Louise was certainly in a villainous +mood. +</P> + +<P> +"You are," Ward affirmed quite calmly. "Only for you, I'd be hustling +like the mischief right this minute along the get-rich trail. Say, +Bill, I don't believe it's the dog!" He looked at her with the smile +hiding just behind his lips and his eyes. And behind the smile, if +one's insight were keen enough to see it, was a troubled anxiety. He +shifted the pail of currants to the other arm and spoke again: +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Wilhemina? Something's bothering you. Can't you tell a +fellow what it is?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I can't." Billy Louise spoke crossly. "I've got a headache. +I've been riding ever since this morning, and I should think that's +reason enough. I wish to goodness you'd let me alone. Go on back to +work, if you're so crazy about working; I'm sure I don't want to hinder +you in any of your get-rich-quick schemes!" She shut her teeth +together with a click, jerked Blue angrily into the trail when he had +merely stepped out of it to avoid a rock, and managed to make him as +conscious of her mood as was Ward. +</P> + +<P> +Ward eyed her unobtrusively with his face set straight ahead. He +glanced down at the pail of currants, which was heavy, and at the +trail, which was long and lonely. He twisted his lips in brief +sarcasm—for he had a temper of his own—and rode on with his neck set +very stiff and his eyes a trifle harder than they had ever been before +when Billy Louise rode alongside. He did not turn off at the ford—and +Billy Louise betrayed by a quick glance at him that she had half +expected him to desert her there—but crossed it beside her and rode on +up the hill. +</P> + +<P> +He had made up his mind that he would not speak to her again until she +wiped out, by apology or a change of manner, that last offensive remark +of hers. He hoped she realized that he was only going with her to +carry the currants, and he hoped she realized also that, if she had +been any other person who had spoken to him like that, he would have +dumped the currants on the ground and ridden off and left her to her +own devices. +</P> + +<P> +He did not once speak to Billy Louise on the way to the Wolverine; but +his silence changed gradually from stubbornness to pure abstraction, as +they rode leisurely along the dusty trail with the sunset glowing +before them. He almost forgot the actual presence of Billy Louise, and +he did actually forget her mood. He was planning just how and where he +should plant his orchard, and he was mentally building an addition to +the cabin and screening a porch wide enough to hang a hammock inside, +and he was seeing Billy Louise luxuriously swinging in that hammock +while he sat close, and smoked and teased and gloried in his possession +of her companionship. +</P> + +<P> +His thoughts shuttled to his little mine, though he seldom dignified it +by that title. He speculated upon the amount of gold he might yet hope +to wash out of that gravel streak, though he had held himself sternly +back from such mental indulgence all the spring. He felt that he was +going to need every grain of gold he could glean. He wanted his +wife—he glowed at the mere thinking of that name—to have the nicest +little home in the country. He decided that it would be pleasanter +than the Cove, all things considered; he had a fine view of the rugged +hills from his cabin, and he imagined the Cove must be pretty hot +during the days, with that high rock wall shutting off the wind and +reflecting the sun. His own place was sheltered, but still it was not +set down in the bottom of a well. She had liked it. She had said... +</P> + +<P> +They rode over the crest of the bluff and down the steep trail into the +Wolverine. However cloudy the atmosphere between the two, the ride had +seemed short—so short that Ward felt the jar of surprise when he +looked down and saw the cabin below them. He glanced at Billy Louise, +guessed from her somber face that the villainous mood still held her, +and sighed a little. He was not deeply concerned by her mood. He +understood her too well to descend into any slough of despondence +because she was cross. Then he remembered the reason she had +given—the reason he had not believed at the time. They were down by +the gate, then. +</P> + +<P> +"Head still ache, William?" he asked, in the tone which he could make a +fair substitute for a caress. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Billy Louise, and did not look at him. +</P> + +<P> +Ward was inwardly skeptical, but he did not tell her so. He swung off +his horse, set down the pail of currants, and took Blue by the bridle. +</P> + +<P> +"You go on in. I'll unsaddle," he commanded her quietly. And Billy +Louise, after a perceptible hesitation, obeyed him without looking at +him or speaking a word. +</P> + +<P> +If Ward resented her manner, which was unreasonably uppish, he could +not have chosen a more effective revenge. He talked with Mrs. +MacDonald all through supper and paid no attention to Billy Louise. +After supper he spied a fairly fresh Boise paper, and underneath that +lay the <I>Butte Miner</I>. That discovery settled the evening, so far as +he was concerned. If he and Billy Louise had been on the best of +terms, it is doubtful if she could have dragged his attention from +those papers. +</P> + +<P> +Several times Billy Louise looked at him as though she meditated going +over and snatching them away from him, but she resisted the temptation +and continued to behave as a nice young woman should behave toward a +guest. She left him sitting inside by the lamp, which her mother had +lighted for his especial convenience, and went out and sat on the +doorstep and stared at the dusky line of hills and at the Big Dipper. +She was trying to think out the tangle of tiny, threadlike mysteries +that had enmeshed her thoughts and tightened her nerves until she could +not speak a decent word to anyone. +</P> + +<P> +She felt that the lives of those around her were weaving +puzzle-patterns, and that she must guess the puzzles. And she felt as +though part of the patterns had been left out, so that there were +ragged points thrusting themselves upon her notice—points that did not +point to anything. +</P> + +<P> +She sat with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her cupped palms, +and scowled at the Big Dipper as if it held the answer away up there +beyond her reach. Where did Ward get the money to do all the things he +had done, this spring and summer? If he expected her to believe that +wolf story—! +</P> + +<P> +What became of the cattle that had disappeared, by twos and threes and +sometimes more, in the last few months? Was there a gang of thieves +operating in the country, and where did they stay? +</P> + +<P> +Why had Ward hinted that she did not like Charlie Fox, and why didn't +he himself like Charlie? Why had she felt that weight of depression +creep over her when they were leaving the Cove? Why? Why? +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise tried to bring her cold, common sense to the front. She +had found it a most effective remedy for most moods. Now it assured +her impatiently that every question—save one—had been born in her own +super-sensitive self. That one definite question was the first one she +had tried to answer. It kept asking itself, over and over, until in +desperation Billy Louise went to bed and tried to forget it in sleep. +</P> + +<P> +Somewhere about midnight—she had heard the clock strike eleven a long +while ago—she scared her mother by sitting up suddenly in bed and +exclaiming relievedly: "Oh, I know; it's some new poison! He poisons +them!" +</P> + +<P> +"Wake up! For the land's sake, what are you dreaming about?" Her +mother shook her agitatedly by the arm. "Billy Louise! Wake up!" +</P> + +<P> +"All right, mommie." Billy Louise lay down and snuggled the light +blanket over her shoulders. She had been awake and thinking, thinking +till she thought she never could stop, but she did not tell mommie +that. She went to sleep and dreamed about poisoned wolves till it is a +wonder she did not have a real nightmare. The question was answered, +and for the time being the answer satisfied her. +</P> + +<P> +Ward was surely an unusual type of young man. He did not seem to +remember, the next morning, that there had been any outbreak of bottled +emotions on his part the day before, or any ill-temper on the part of +Billy Louise, or anything at all out of the ordinary. Billy Louise had +prepared herself to apologize—in some roundabout manner which would +effect a reconciliation without hurting her pride too much—and she was +rather chagrined to discover that Ward seemed neither to expect or to +want any apology. +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry I gotta go, William," he volunteered whimsically soon after +breakfast. "But I gotta dig. Say, Wilhemina, if I stay away long +enough, will you come after me again?" +</P> + +<P> +"A wise man," said Billy Louise evasively, "may do a foolish thing +once, but only a fool does it twice." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't believe it's the dog." Ward shook his head at her in mock +meditation. "It wouldn't last overnight, if it was just the dog." He +looked at her with the hidden smile. "Are you sure—" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure you know how to pester a person!" The lips of Billy Louise +twisted humorously. "Lots of things bother me, and you ought to help +me out instead of making it worse." She walked beside him down to the +corral where Rattler was waiting, saddled and bridled for the homeward +journey. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, tell a fellow what they are. Of course, if it's the dog—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ward Warren, you're awful! It isn't the dog. Well, it is, but there +are heaps of other things I want to know, that I don't know. And you +don't seem to care about any single one of them." +</P> + +<P> +Ward leaned up against the fence and tilted his hat to shade his eyes +from the sun. "Name a few of them, William Louisa. Not even a brave +young buckaroo can be expected to mind-read a girl. If he could—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, is it poison you use?" Billy Louise thought it best to change +Ward's trend of thought immediately. "Last night it just came to me +all at once that you must have found some poison besides strychnine—" +</P> + +<P> +"Eh? Oh, I see!" He managed a rather provoking slur on the last word. +"No, William." His eyes twinkled at her. "It isn't poison. What's +the other thing you want to know?" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise frowned, hesitated, and, accepting the rebuff, went on to +the next question: +</P> + +<P> +"What went with Seabeck's cattle, and Marthy and Charlie's, and all the +others that have disappeared? You don't seem to care at all that there +seems to be rustling going on around here." +</P> + +<P> +Ward gave her a quick look. His tone changed a bit: +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know that there is any. I never yet lived in a cow-country +where there wasn't more or less talk of—rustling. You don't want to +take gossip like that too seriously. Anything more?" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise glanced at him surreptitiously and looked away again. +Then she tried to go on as casually as she had begun. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, there's something about the Cove. I don't believe Marthy's +happy. I couldn't quite get hold of the thing yesterday that gave me +the blues—but it's Marthy. She's grieving, or something. She's +different. She's changed more since last winter than she's changed +since I can remember. You noticed something—at least you spoke about +her coming up the gorge—" +</P> + +<P> +"I said she thinks a lot of you, Wilhemina." Ward's tone and manner +were natural again. "I noticed her looking at you when you didn't know +it. She thinks a heap of you, I should say, and she's worrying about +something. Maybe she'd rather have you in the Cove than Miss Gertrude +M. Shannon. Don't you reckon an old lady that has had her own way all +her life kind of dreads the advent of a brand-new bride in her domain?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, of course! Poor old thing! I never thought of that. And here +you hit the nail on the head just with a chance thought. That shows +what it means to be a brave young buckaroo, with heaps and piles of +brains!" She laughed at him, but behind her bantering was a new +respect for Ward's astuteness. "Go on. Tell me why you don't like +Charlie Fox, or why you refuse to admit how nice and kind he is and—" +</P> + +<P> +"But I don't refuse—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I put it stupidly, of course, but you know what I mean. Tell me +your candid opinion of him." +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't any." Ward smoked imperturbably for a minute, so that Billy +Louise began to think he would not tell her what she wanted to know. +Ward could be absolutely, maddeningly dumb on some subjects, as she had +reason to know. But he continued, quite frankly for him: +</P> + +<P> +"Has it ever struck you, William Jane, that after all Foxy is not +sacrificing such a hell of a lot?" He bit his lip because of the word +he had let slip, but since Billy Louise took no notice, he went on: +"He's got a pretty good thing, down there, if you stop to think. The +old lady won't live always, and she's managed to build up a pretty fine +ranch. It stands Foxy in hand to be good to her, don't you think? +He'll have a pretty fine stake out of it. Far as I know, he's all +right. I merely fail to see where he's got a right to wear any halo on +his manly brow. He's got a good hand in the game, and he's playing +it—a heap better than lots of men would. Dot's all, Wilhemina." He +turned to her as if he would dismiss the subject. "Don't run off with +the notion that I'm out after the heart's blood of our young hee-ro. I +like him all right—far as he goes. I like him a heap better," he +owned frankly, "since I glommed him devouring that letter from Miss +Gertrude M. Shannon. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you want to ride a ways with me?" His eyes made love while he +waited for her to speak. "Don't?" (When she shook her head.) "You're +a pretty mean young person sometimes, aren't you? Wha's molla? Did I +give you more mood than I wiped off the slate?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know. You say a sentence or two, and it's like slashing a +knife into a curtain. You show all kinds of things that were nicely +covered before." Billy Louise spoke gloomily. "I'll see Marthy as a +poor old lady waiting to be saddled with a boss, from now on. And +Charlie Fox just simply working for his own interests and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Now, William!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I can see it myself, now." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what if he is? We're all of us working for our own interests, +aren't we?" He saw the gloom still deep in her eyes and flung out both +hands impatiently. "All right, all right! I'll plead the cause of our +young hee-ro, then. What would old Marthy do without him? He's made +her more comfortable than she ever was in her life, probably. I +noticed a big difference in the cabin, yesterday. And he's doing the +work, and taking the responsibility, and making the ranch more +valuable—even put a wire on the gate, that rings a bell at the house, +so she'll know when company's coming, and can get the kitchen swept. +He's done a lot—" +</P> + +<P> +"For himself!" In her disillusionment Billy Louise went too far the +other way. "And the cabin is more comfortable for that girl when he +brings her there to run over Marthy!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what of it? You don't expect him to put in his time for +nothing, do you? In the last analysis we're all self-centered brutes, +Wilhemina. We're thinking once for the other fellow and twice for +ourselves, always. I'm working and scheming day and night to get a +stake—so I can have what means happiness to me. Marthy's letting Foxy +have full swing in the Cove, because that gives her an easier life than +she's ever had. If she didn't want him there, she'd mighty quick shoo +him up the gorge, or I don't know the old lady. We're all selfish." +</P> + +<P> +"I think it's a horrid world!" rebelled the youthful ideals of Billy +Louise. "I wish you wouldn't say you're just thinking of yourself—" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm human," he pointed out. "I want my happiness. So do you, for +that matter. We all want to get all we can out of life." +</P> + +<P> +"And at the other fellow's expense!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, not necessarily. Some of us want the other fellow to be just as +happy as we are." His look pointed the meaning for him. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care; I think it's mean of Charlie Fox to bring—" +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe not. The chances are the young lady will take to housework like +a bear-cub to a syrup keg, and old Marthy will potter around with her +flowers and be perfectly happy with the two of them. Cheer up, Bill +Loo! Lemme have a smile, anyway, before I go. And I wish," he added +quizzically, "you'd spare me some of that sympathy you've got going to +waste. I'm a poor lonesome devil working away to get a stake, and you +know why. I don't have nobody to give me a kind word, and I don't have +no fun nor nothing, nohow. Come on and ride a mile or two!" +</P> + +<P> +"I have to help mommie," said Billy Louise, which was not true. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if you won't, darn it, don't!" Ward reached down, caught her +hand, and squeezed it, taking a chance on being seen. "Gotta go, +Wilhemina-mine. Adios. I won't stay away so long next time." He +turned away to his horse, stuck his foot in the stirrup; and went up +into the saddle without any apparent effort. Then he swung Rattler +close to where she stood beside the gate. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure you want to be just pals, Wilhemina-mine?" he asked, bending +close to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I'm sure," said Billy Louise quickly—a shade too quickly. +</P> + +<P> +Ward looked at her intently and shrugged his shoulders. "All right," +he said, in the tone which made plain his opinion of her decision. +"You're the doctor." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise watched him up the hill and out of sight over the top. +When he was gone, she caught Blue and saddled him; then, with her gun +buckled around her hips and her rope coiled beside the saddle-fork, she +rode dismally up the canyon. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT +</H4> + +<P> +Wolverine canyon, with the sun shining down aslant into its depths, was +a picturesque gash in the hills, wild enough in all conscience, but to +the normal person not in the least degree gloomy. The jutting crags +were sunlit and warm. The cherry thickets whispered in a light breeze +and sheltered birds that sang in perfect content. The service berries +were ripening and hung heavy-laden branches down over the trail to +tempt a rider into loitering. The creek leaped over rocks, slid thin +blades of swift current between the higher bowlders, and crept +stealthily down into shady pools, where speckled trout lay motionless +except for the gently-moving tail and fins that held them stationary in +some deeper shadow. Not a gloomy place, surely, when the peace of a +sunny morning laid its spell upon the land. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise, however, did not respond to the canyon's enticements. +She brooded over her own discouragements and the tantalizing little +puzzles which somehow would not lend themselves to any convincing +solution. She was in that condition of nervous depression where she +saw her finest cows dead of bloat in the alfalfa meadows—and how would +she pay that machinery note, then? She saw John Pringle calling +unexpectedly and insistently for his "time"—and where would she find +another man whom she could trust out of her sight? John Pringle was +slow, and he was stupid and growled at poor Phoebe till Billy Louise +wanted to shake him, but he was "steady," and that one virtue covers +many a man's faults and keeps him drawing wages regularly. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother had been more and more inclined to worry as the hot weather +came on; lately her anxiety over small things had rather gotten upon +the nerves of Billy Louise. She felt ill-used and down-hearted and as +if nothing mattered much, anyway. She passed her cave with a mere +glance and scowl for the memories of golden days in her lonely +childhood that clung around it. She passed Minervy's cave, and her +lips quivered with self-pity because that childhood was gone, and she +must not waste time or energy upon romantic "pretends," but must +measure haystacks and allow so much for "settling," and then add and +multiply and divide all over two sheets of tablet paper to find out how +much hay she had to winter the stock on. She must hold herself rigidly +to facts, and tend fences and watch irrigating ditches, and pay +interest on notes three or four years old, and ride the hills and work +her way through rocky canyons, keeping watch over the cattle that meant +so much. She had meant to talk over things with Ward and ask his +advice about certain details that required experienced judgment. But +Ward had precipitated her thoughts into strange channels and so had +unconsciously thwarted her counsel-seeking intentions. She had wanted +to talk things over with Marthy, and Marthy had also unconsciously +prevented her doing so and had filled Billy Louise with uneasiness and +doubt which in no way concerned herself. +</P> + +<P> +These doubts persisted, and so did the tantalizing little puzzles. +They weaned Billy Louise's thoughts from her own ranch worries and +nagged at her with the persistence of a swarm of buffalo gnats. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if he doesn't use poison, for goodness' sake, what does he use?" +she asked indignantly aloud, after a period of deep thought. "I don't +see why he wants to be so terribly secretive. He might be human enough +to tell a person what he means. I'm sure I'd tell him, all right. I +don't believe it's wolves at all. I don't see how—and still—I don't +believe Ward would really lie to me." +</P> + +<P> +She was in this particularly dissatisfied mood when she rode out of the +canyon at its upper end, where the hills folded softly down into grassy +valleys where her cattle loved best to graze. Since the grass had +started in the spring, she had kept her little herd up here among the +lower hills; and by riding along the higher ridges every day or so and +turning back a wandering animal now and then, she had held them in a +comparatively small area, where they would be easily gathered in the +fall. A few head of Seabeck's stock had wandered in amongst hers, and +some of Marthy's. And there was a big, roan steer that bore the brand +of Johnson, over on Snake River. Billy Louise knew them all, as a +housewife knows her flock of chickens, and if she missed seeing certain +leaders in the scattered groups, she rode until she found them. Two +old cows and one big, red steer that seemed always to have a following +wore bells that tinkled pleasant little sounds in the alder thickets +along the creek, as she passed by. +</P> + +<P> +She rode up the long ridge which gave her a wide view of the +surrounding hills and stopped Blue, while she stared moodily at the +familiar, shadow-splotched expanse of high-piled ridges, with deep +green valleys and deeper-hued canyons between. She loved them, every +one; but to-day they failed to steep her senses in that deep content +with life which only the great outdoors can give to one who has learned +how satisfying is the draught and how soothing. +</P> + +<P> +Far over to the eastward a black dot moved up a green slope and slid +out of sight beyond. That might be Ward, taking a short-cut across the +hill to his claim beyond the pine-dotted ridge that looked purple in +the distance. Billy Louise sighed with a vague disquiet and turned to +look away to the north, where the jumble of high hills grew more +rugged, with the valleys narrower and deeper. +</P> + +<P> +Here came two other dots, larger and more clearly defined as horsemen. +From mere objects that stood higher than any animal and moved with a +purposeful directness, they presently became men who rode with the easy +swing of habit which has become a second nature. They must have seen +her sitting still upon her horse in the midst of that high, sunny +plateau, for they turned and rode up the slope toward her. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise waited, too depressed to wonder greatly who they were. +Seabeck riders, probably; and so they proved. At least one of them was +a Seabeck man—Floyd Carson, who had talked with her at her own gate +and had told her of the suspected cattle-stealing. The other man was a +stranger whom Floyd introduced as Mr. Birken. +</P> + +<P> +They had been "prowling around," according to Floyd, trying to see what +they could see. Floyd was one of these round-faced, round-eyed, young +fellows who does not believe much in secrecy and therefore talks freely +whenever and wherever he dares. He said that Seabeck had turned them +loose to keep cases and see if they couldn't pick up the trail of these +rustlers who were trying to get rich off a running iron and a long +rope. (If you are of the West, you know what that means; and if you +are not, you ought to guess that it means stealing cattle and let it go +at that.) It was not until he had talked for ten minutes or so that +Billy Louise became more than mildly interested in the conversation. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, Miss MacDonald," Floyd asked, by way of beginning a new +paragraph, "how about that fellow over on Mill Creek? He worked for +you folks a year or so ago, didn't he? What does he do?" +</P> + +<P> +"He has a ranch," said Billy Louise with careful calm. "He's been +working on it this summer, I believe." +</P> + +<P> +"Uh-huh—we were over there this morning. Them Y6 cattle up above his +place are his, I reckon?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Billy Louise. "He's been putting his wages into cattle for +a year or so. He worked for Junkins last winter. Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, nothing, I guess! Only he's the only stranger in the country, and +his prosperity ain't accounted for—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but it is!" laughed Billy Louise. "I only wish I had half as +clear a ticket. When he isn't working out, he's wolfing; and every +dollar he gets hold of he puts into that ranch. We've known him a long +time. He doesn't blow his money, you see, like most fellows do." +</P> + +<P> +Floyd found occasion to have a slight argument with his horse, just +then. He happened to be one of the "most" fellows, and the occasion of +his last "blow-out" was fresh in his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, of course, if you know he's all straight, that settles it. But +it sure seems queer—" +</P> + +<P> +"That fellow is straight as a string. Don't you suppose it's some gang +over on the river, Floyd? I'd look around over there, I believe, and +try to get a line on the unaccountables. There's a lot of new settlers +come in, just in the last year or two, and there might be some tough +ones scattered through the bunch. Better see if there has been any +cattle shipped or driven through that way, don't you think?" +</P> + +<P> +"We can try," Floyd assented without eagerness. "But as near as we can +figure, it's too much of a drib-drab proposition for that. A cow and +calf here and there, and so on. We got wind of it first when we went +out to bring in a gentle cow that the deacon wanted on the ranch. We +knew where she was, only she wasn't there when we went after her. We +hunted the hills for a week and couldn't find a sign of her or her +calf. And she had stuck down in the creek bottom all the spring, so it +looked kinda funny." He twisted in the saddle and looked back at the +pine-clotted ridge. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a Y6 calf up there that's a dead ringer for the one we've been +hunting," he observed. "But it's running with a cow that carries +Junkins' old brand, So—" He looked apologetically into the calm eyes +of Billy Louise. "Of course, I don't mean to say there's anything +wrong up there," he hastily assured her. "But that's the reason I +thought I'd ask you about that fellow." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's perfectly right to make sure of everybody," smiled Billy +Louise. "I'd do the same thing myself. But you'll find everything's +all straight up there. We know all about him, and how and where he got +his few head of stock, and everything. But of course you could ask +Junkins, if you have any doubt—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, we'll take your word for it. I just wanted to know; he's a +stranger to our outfit. I've seen him a few times; what's his name? +Us boys call him Noisy. It's like pulling a wisdom tooth to get any +kinda talk out of him." +</P> + +<P> +"He is awful quiet," assented Billy Louise carelessly. "But he's real +steady to work." +</P> + +<P> +"Them quiet fellows generally are," put in Mr. Birken. "You run stock +in here too, do you, Miss MacDonald?" +</P> + +<P> +"The big Ds," answered Billy Louise and smiled faintly. "I've been +range-herding them back here in these foothills this summer. Do you +want to look through the bunch?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Birkin blushed. "Oh, no, not at all! I was wondering if you had +lost any." +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody would rustle cattle from a lady, I hope? At any rate, I +haven't missed any yet. The folks down in the Cove have, though." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I heard they had. That breed rode over to see if he could get a +line on them. It's hard luck; that Charlie Fox seems a fine, +hard-working boy, don't you think?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes-s," said Billy Louise shyly, "he seems real nice." She looked +away and bit her lip self-consciously as she spoke. +</P> + +<P> +The two men swallowed the bait like a hungry fish. They glanced at +each other and winked knowingly. Billy Louise saw them from the tail +of her downcast eye, and permitted herself a little sigh of relief. +They would be the more ready now to accept at its face value her +statement concerning Ward, unless they credited her with the feat of +being in love with the two men at the same time. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm sorry Charlie Fox has been tapped off, too. He's a mighty +fine chap," declared Floyd with transparent heartiness, his round eyes +dwelling curiously upon the face of Billy Louise. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I must be going," said that young woman self-consciously. "I've +quite a circle to ride yet. I hope you locate the rustlers, and if +there's anything I can do—if I see or hear anything that seems to be a +clew—I'll let you know right away. I've been keeping my eyes open for +some trace of them, and—so has Char—Mr. Fox." Then she blushed and +told them good-by very hastily and loped off up the ridge. +</P> + +<P> +"Bark up that tree for awhile, you two!" she said, with a twist of her +lips, when she was well away from them. "You—you darned idiots! To +go prowling around Ward's place, just as if— Ward'll take a shot at +them if he catches them nosing through his stock!" She scowled at a +big D cow that thrust her head out of an alder thicket and sent Blue in +after her. Frowning, she watched the animal go lumbering down the hill +toward the Wolverine. "Just because he's a stranger and doesn't mix +with people, and minds his own business and is trying to get a start, +they're suspicious—as if a man has no right to— Well, I think I +managed to head them off, anyway." +</P> + +<P> +Her satisfaction lasted while she rode to the next ridge. Then the +little devils of doubt came a-swarming and a-whispering. She had said +she knew all about Ward; well, she did, to a greater extent than others +knew. But—she wondered if she did not know too much, or if she knew +enough. There were some things— +</P> + +<P> +She turned, upon the crest of the ridge, and looked away toward the +pine-dotted height locally known as the Big Hill, beyond which Ward's +claim lay snuggled out of sight in its little valley. "I've a good +mind to ride over there right now, and make him tell me," she said to +herself. She stopped Blue and sat there undecided, while the wind +lifted a lock of hair and flipped it across her cheek. "If he +cares—like he says he cares—he'll tell me," she murmured. "I don't +believe it's wolves. And of course it isn't—what those fellows seemed +to think. But—where did he get the money for all that?" She sighed +distressfully. "I hate to ask him; he'd think I didn't trust him, and +I do. I do trust him!" There was the little head-devil of doubt, and +she fought him fiercely. "I do! I do!" She thrust the declaration of +faith like a sword through the doubt-devil that clung and whispered. +"Dear Ward! I do trust you!" She blinked back tears and bit her lips +to stop their quivering. "But, darn it, I don't see why you didn't +tell me!" There it was: a perfectly human, woman-resentment toward a +nagging mystery. +</P> + +<P> +She headed Blue down the slope and as straight for the Big Hill as she +could go. She would go and make Ward tell her what he had been doing; +not that she had any doubt herself that it was perfectly all right, +whatever it was, but she felt that she had a right to demand facts, so +that she could feel more sure of her ground. And there would be more +questions; Billy Louise was bright enough to see thus far into the +future. Unless the rustlers were caught, there would be questions +asked about this silent stranger who kept his trail apart from his +fellows and whose prosperity was out of proportion with his +opportunities. Why, even Billy Louise herself had been curious over +that prosperity, without being in the slightest degree suspicious. +Other people had not her faith in him; and they were not blind. They +would wonder— +</P> + +<P> +There was no trail that way, and the ridges were steep and the canyons +circuitous. But Blue was a good horse, with plenty of stamina and much +experience. He carried his lady safely, and he carried her willingly. +Even her impatience could find no fault with the manner in which he +climbed steep pitches, slid down slopes as steep, jumped narrow +washouts, and picked his way through thickets of quaking aspens or over +wide stretches of shale rock and lava beds. He was wet to his ears +when finally he shuffled into Ward's trail up the creek bottom; but he +breathed evenly, and he carried his head high and perked his ears +knowingly forward when the corral and haystack came into view around a +sharp bend.. He splashed both front feet into the creek just before +the cabin and stopped to drink while Billy Louise stared at the silent +place. +</P> + +<P> +By the tracks along the creek trail she knew that Ward had come home, +and she urged Blue across the ford and up the bank to the cabin. She +slid off and went in boldly to hide her inward embarrassment—and she +found nothing but emptiness there. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise did not take long to investigate. The coffee-pot was +still warm on the stove when she laid her palm against it, and she +immediately poured herself a cup of coffee. A plate and a cup on the +table indicated that Ward had eaten a hurried meal and had not taken +time to clear away the litter. Billy Louise ate what was left, and +mechanically she washed the dishes and made everything neat before she +went down to look for Rattler. She had thought that Ward was out +somewhere about the place and would return very soon, probably. Blue +she had left standing in plain sight before the cabin, so that Ward +would see him and know she was there—a fact which she regretted. +</P> + +<P> +While she was washing dishes and sweeping, she had been trying to think +of some excuse for her presence there. It was going to be awkward, her +coming there on his heels, one might say. She remembered for the first +time her statement that she had to help mommie and so could not take +the time to ride even a mile with him! Being a young person whose +chief amusement had always been her "pretends," she began unconsciously +building an imaginary conversation between them, like this: +</P> + +<P> +Ward would come out of the stable—or somewhere—see Blue and hurry up +to the house. Billy Louise would be standing with her back to him, +putting the dishes into neat little piles in the cupboard perhaps; +anyway, doing something like that. Ward would stop in the doorway and +say—well, there were several possible greetings, but Billy Louise +chose his "'Lo, Bill!" as being the most probable. And then he would +come up and take her in his arms. (Oh, she was human, and she was a +woman, and she was twenty. And Ward had established a precedent, +remember, and Billy Louise had not objected to any great extent.) +And—and— (I'm going to tell on Billy Louise. She wiped a knife for +at least five minutes without knowing what she was doing, and she +stared at a sunny spot on the floor where a sunbeam came in through a +crack in the wall, and she smiled absently, and her cheeks were quite a +bit redder than usual.) +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't expect to see you here, Wilhemina-mine." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I was just riding around, and I came over to see how you dig +dollars out of wolf-dens. You said you'd show me." +</P> + +<P> +The trouble with the conversation began right there. Ward would be +sure to remind her of the condition he had made, to tell her how he dug +dollars out of wolf-dens when she was through with wanting to be just +friends. That put it up to Billy Louise to say she would be engaged +and marry him; and Billy Louise was not ready to say that or be that. +Her woman-soul hung back from that decisive point. She would not shut +the door upon her freedom and her girlish dreams and her ideals and all +those evanescent bubbles which we try to carry with us into maturity. +Billy Louise did not put it that way, of course. She only reiterated +again and again: "I like you, but I don't want to marry anybody. I +don't want to be engaged." +</P> + +<P> +Well, that would probably settle Ward's telling her about digging +dollars out of wolf-dens or anything else. He had a wide streak of +stubbornness; no one could see the set of his chin when he was in a +certain mood and doubt that. Billy Louise began to wish she had not +come. She began to feel quite certain that Ward would be surprised and +disgusted when he found her there, and would look at her with that +faint curl of the lip and that fainter lift of the nostril above it, +which made her go hot all over with the scorn in them. She had seen +him look that way once or twice, and in spite of herself she began to +picture his face with that expression. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise was on the point of riding away a good deal more hastily +than she had come, in the hope that Ward would not discover her there. +Then her own stubbornness came uppermost, and she told herself that she +had a perfect right to ride wherever she pleased, and that if Ward +didn't like it, he could do the other thing. +</P> + +<P> +She went to the door and stood looking out for a minute, wondering +where he was. She turned back and stared around the room, which +somehow held the imprint of his personality in spite of its rough +simplicity. +</P> + +<P> +There was a little window behind the bunk, and beside that a shelf +filled with books and smoking material and matches. She knew by the +very arrangement of that shelf and window that Ward liked to lie there +on the bunk and read while the light lasted. Well, he was not there +now, at any rate. She went over and looked at the titles of the books, +though she had examined them with interest only yesterday. There was +Burns; and she knew why it was he could repeat <I>Tam O'Shanter</I> so +readily with never a moment's hesitation. There were two volumes of +Scott—<I>Lady of the Lake</I> and other poems, much thumbed and with a +cigarette burn on the front cover, and <I>Kenilworth</I>. There were +several books of Kipling's, mostly verses, and beside it Morgan's +<I>Ancient Society</I>, with the corners broken, and a fine-print volume of +Shakespeare's plays. Then there was a pile of magazines and beyond +them a stack of books whose subjects varied from Balzac to strange, +scientific-sounding names. At the other end of the shelf, within easy +reach from one lying upon the bunk, was a cigar-box full of smoking +tobacco, a half-dozen books of cigarette papers, and several blocks of +the small, evil-smelling matches which men of the outdoors carry for +their compact form and slow, steady blaze. +</P> + +<P> +At the head of the bed hung a flour-sack half full of some hard, lumpy +stuff which Billy Louise had not noticed before. She felt the bag +tentatively, could not guess its contents, and finally took it down and +untied it. Within were irregular scraps and strips of stuff hard as +bone—a puzzle still to one unfamiliar with the frontier. Billy Louise +pulled out a little piece, nibbled a corner, and pronounced, "M-mm! +Jerky! I'm going to swipe some of that," which she proceeded to do, to +the extent of filling her pocket. For to those who have learned to +like it, jerked venison is quite as desirable as milk chocolate or any +other nibbly tid-bit. +</P> + +<P> +The opposite wall had sacks of flour stacked against it, and boxes of +staple canned goods, such as corn and tomatoes and milk and peaches. A +box of canned peaches stood at the head of the bed, and upon that a +case of tomatoes. Ward used them for a table and set the lantern there +when he wanted to read in bed. "He's got a pretty good supply of +grub," was the verdict of Billy Louise, sizing up the assortment while +she nibbled at the piece of jerky. "I wonder where he is, anyway?" +And a moment later: "He oughtn't to hang his best clothes up like that; +they'll be all wrinkled when he wants to put them on." +</P> + +<P> +She went over and disposed of the best clothes to her liking, and shook +out the dust. She had to own to herself that for a bachelor Ward was +very orderly, though he did let his trousers hang down over the +flour-sacks in a way to whiten their hems. She hung them in a +different place. +</P> + +<P> +But where was Ward? Billy Louise bethought her that Blue deserved +something to eat after that hard ride, and led him down to the stable. +There was no sign of Rattler, and Billy Louise wondered anew at Ward's +absence. It did not seem consistent with his haste to leave the +Wolverine and his frequent assertion that he must get to work. From +the stable door she could look over practically the whole creek-bottom +within his fence, and she could see the broad sweep of the hills on +either side. On her way back to the cabin, she tried to track Rattler, +but there were several stock-trails leading in different directions, +and the soil was too dry to leave any distinguishing marks. +</P> + +<P> +She waited for an hour or two, sitting in the door-way, nibbling jerky +and trying to read a magazine. Then she found a stub of pencil, tore +out an advertising page which had a wide margin, wrote: "I don't think +you're a bit nice. Why don't you stay home when a fellow comes to see +you?" This she folded neatly and put in the cigar-box of tobacco over +Ward's pillow. It never once occurred to her that Ward, when he found +the note, would believe she had placed it there the day before, and +would never guess by its text that she had made a second trip to his +claim. +</P> + +<P> +She resaddled Blue and rode away more depressed than ever, because her +depression was now mixed with a disappointment keener than she would +have cared to acknowledge, even to herself. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON +</H4> + +<P> +Where the creek trail crossed the Big Hill and then swung to the left +that it might follow the easy slopes of Cedar Creek, Blue turned off to +the right of his own accord, as if he took it for granted that his lady +would return the way she had come. His lady had not thought anything +about it, but after a brief hesitation she decided that Blue should +have his way; after all, it would simplify her explanations of the long +ride if she came home by way of the canyon. She could say that she had +ridden farther out into the hills than usual, which was true enough. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise did not own such a breeder of blues as a lazy liver, her +nerves were in fine working order, and her digestion was perfect; and +it is a well-known fact that a trouble must be born of reality rather +than imagination, if it would ride far behind the cantle. Billy Louise +was late, and already the shadows lay like long draperies upon the +hills she faced: long, purple cloaks ruffed with golden yellow and +patterned with indigo patches, which were the pines, and splotches of +dark green, which were the thickets of alder and quaking aspens. She +couldn't feel depressed for very long, and before she had climbed over +the first rugged ridge that reached out like a crooked finger into the +narrow valley, she was humming under her breath and riding with the +reins dropped loose upon Blue's neck, so that he went where the way +pleased him best. Before she was down that ridge and beginning to +climb the next, she was singing softly a song her mother had taught her +long ago, when she was seven or so: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"The years creep slowly by, Lorena,<BR> +The snow is on the grass again;<BR> +The sun's low down the sky, Lorena—"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Blue gathered himself together and jumped a washout three feet across +and goodness knows how deep and jarred that melancholy melody quite out +of Billy Louise's mind. When she had settled herself again to the slow +climb, she broke out with what she called Ward's Come-all-ye, and with +a twinkle of eye and both dimples showing deep, went on with a very +slight interruption in her singing. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, a ten-dollar hoss and a forty-dollar saddle'—that's you Blue. +You don't amount to nothing nohow, doing jackrabbit stunts like that +when I'm not looking! 'Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a.'" She watched a +cloud shadow sweep like a great bird over a sunny slope and murmured +while she watched: "Cloud-boats sailing sunny seas—is that original, +or have I cribbed it from some honest-to-goodness poet? Blue, if fate +hadn't made a cowpuncher of me, I'd be chewing up lead-pencils trying +to find a rhyme for alfalfa, maybe. And where would you be, you old +skate? If the Louise of me had been developed at the expense of the +Billy of me, and I'd taken to making battenburg doilies with +butterflies in the corners, and embroidering corset covers till I put +my eyes out, and writing poetry on Sundays when mommie wouldn't let me +sew. I wonder if Ward— Maybe he'd have liked me better if I'd lived +up to the Louise and cut out the Billy part. I'd be home, right now, +asking mommie whether I should use soda or baking-powder to make my +muffins with— Oh, gracious!" She leaned over and caught a handful of +Blue's slatey mane and tousled it, till he laid his ears flat on his +head and nipped his nose around to show her that his teeth were bared +to the gums. Billy Louise laughed and gave another yank. +</P> + +<P> +"You wish I were an embroidering young lady, do you? Aw, where would +you be, if you didn't have me to devil the life out of you? Well, why +don't you take a chunk out of me, then? Don't be an old bluffer, Blue. +If you want to eat me, why, go to it; only you don't. You're just +a-bluffing. You like to be tousled and you know it; else why do you +tag me all over the place when I don't want you? Huh? That's to pay +you back for jumping that washout when I wasn't looking." A twitch of +the mane here brought Blue's head around again with all his teeth +showing. "And this is for jarring that lovely, weepy song out of me. +You know you hate it; you always do lay back your ears when I sing +that, but—oh, all right—when I sing, then. But you've got to stand +for it. I've been an indigo bag all day long, and I'm going to sing if +I want to. Fate made me a lady cowpunch instead of a poet-ess, and you +can't stop me from singing when I feel it in my system." +</P> + +<P> +She began again with the "Ten-dollar hoss and forty-dollar saddle," and +sang as much of the old trail song as she had ever heard and could +remember, substituting milder expletives now and then and laughing at +herself for doing it, because a self-confessed "lady cowpunch" is after +all hedged about by certain limitations in the matter of both speech +and conduct. She did not sing it all, but she sang enough to last over +a mile of rough going, and she did not have to repeat many verses to do +it. +</P> + +<P> +Blue, because she still left the reins loose, chose his own trail, +which was easier than that which they had taken in the forenoon, but +more roundabout. Billy Louise, observing how he avoided rocky patches +and went considerably out of his way to keep his feet on soft soil, +stopped in the middle of a "Coma ti yi" to ask him solicitously if he +were getting tender-footed; and promised him a few days off, in the +pasture. Thereafter she encouraged the roundabout progress, even +though she knew it would keep them in the hills until dusk; for she was +foolishly careful of Blue, however much she might tease him and call +him names. +</P> + +<P> +Quite suddenly, just at sundown, her cheerful journeying was +interrupted in a most unexpected manner. She was dreaming along a +flat-bottomed canyon, looking for an easy way across, when Blue threw +up his head, listened with his ears thrust forward, and sniffed with +widened nostrils. From his manner, almost anything might lie ahead of +them. And because certain of the possibilities would call for quick +action if any of them became a certainty, Billy Louise twisted her +gun-belt around so that her six-shooter swung within easy reach of her +hand. With her fingers she made sure that the gun was loose in its +holster and kicked Blue mildly as a hint to go on and see what it was +all about. +</P> + +<P> +Blue went forward, stepping easily on the soft sidehill. In rough +country, whatever you want to see is nearly always around a sharp bend; +you read it so in the stories and books of travels, and when you ride +out in the hills, you find it so in reality. Billy Louise rode for +three or four minutes before she received any inkling of what lay +ahead, though Blue's behavior during that interval had served to +reassure her somewhat. He was interested still in what lay just out of +sight beyond a shoulder of the hill, but he did not appear to be in the +least alarmed. Therefore, Billy Louise knew it couldn't be a bear, at +any rate. +</P> + +<P> +They came to the point of the hill's shoulder, and Billy Louise +tightened the reins instinctively while she stared at what lay revealed +beneath. The head of the gulch was blocked with a corral—small, high, +hidden from view on all sides save where she stood, by the jagged walls +of rock and heavy aspen thickets beyond. +</P> + +<P> +The corral was but the setting for what Billy Louise stared at so +unbelievingly. A horseman had ridden out of the corral just as she +came into sight, had turned a sharp corner, and had disappeared by +riding up the same slope she occupied, but farther along, and in a +shallow depression which hid him completely after that one brief +glimpse. +</P> + +<P> +Of course, the gulch was dusky with deep shadows, and she had had only +a glimpse. But the horse was a dark bay, and the rider was slim and +tall and wore a gray hat. The heart of Billy Louise paused a moment +from its steady beating and then sank heavily under a great weight. +She was range-born and range-bred. She had sat wide-eyed on her +daddy's knees and heard him tell of losses in cattle and horses and of +corrals found hidden away in strange places and of unknown riders who +disappeared mysteriously into the hills. She had heard of these +things; they were a part of the stage setting for wild dramas of the +West. +</P> + +<P> +With a white line showing around her close-pressed lips and a horror in +her wide-eyed glance, she rode quietly along the side of the bluff +toward where she had seen the horseman disappear. He was riding a dark +bay, and he wore a gray hat and dark coat, and he was slim and tall. +Billy Louise made a sound that was close to a groan and set her teeth +hard together afterwards. +</P> + +<P> +She reached the hillside just above the corral. There were cattle down +there, moving uneasily about in the shadows. Of the horseman there was +of course no sign; just the corral, and a few restless cattle shut +inside, and on the hilltops a soft, rose-violet glow, and in the sky +beyond a blend of purple and deep crimson to show where the sun had +been. Close beside her as she stood looking down a little, gray bird +twittered wistfully. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise took a deep breath and rode on, angling slightly up the +bluff, so that she could cross at the head of the gulch. It was very +quiet, very peaceful, and wildly beautiful, this jumble of hills and +deep-gashed canyons. But Billy Louise felt as though something +precious had died. She should have gone down and investigated and +turned those cattle loose; that is, if she dared. Well, she dared; it +was not fear that held her to the upper slopes. She did not want to +know what brand they bore or whether an iron had seared fresh marks. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, God!" she said once aloud; and there was a prayer and a protest, a +curse and a question all in those two words. +</P> + +<P> +So trouble—trouble that sickened her very soul and choked her into +dumbness and squeezed her heart so that the ache of it was agony—came +and rode with her through the brooding dusk of the canyons and over the +brighter hilltops. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise did not remember anything much about that ride, except +that she was glad the way was long. Blue carried her steadily on and +on and needed no guiding, and though Wolverine canyon was black dark in +most places, she liked it so. +</P> + +<P> +John Pringle was standing by the gate waiting for her, which was +unusual, if Billy Louise had been normal enough to notice it. He came +forward and took Blue by the bridle when she dismounted, which was +still more unusual, for Billy Louise always cared for her own horse +both from habit and preference. +</P> + +<P> +"Yor mommie, she's sick," he announced stolidly. "She's worry you +maybe hurt yoreself. Yo better go, maybe." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise did not answer, but ran up the path to the cabin. "Oh, +has everything got to happen all at once?" she cried aloud, protesting +against the implacableness of misfortune. +</P> + +<P> +"Yor mommie's sick," Phoebe announced in a whisper. "She's crazy +'cause you been so long. She's awful bad, I guess." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise said nothing, but went in where her mother lay moaning, +her face white and turned to the ceiling. Billy Louise herself had +pulled up her reserves of strength and cheerfulness, and the fingers +she laid on her mother's forehead were cool and steady. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor old mommie! Is it that nasty lumbago again?" she asked +caressingly and did not permit the tiniest shade of anxiety to spoil +the reassurance of her presence. "I went farther than usual, and +Blue's pretty tender, so I eased him along, and I'm fearfully late. I +suppose you've been having all kinds of disasters happening to me." +She was passing her fingers soothingly over her mother's forehead while +she explained, and she saw that her mother did not moan so much as when +she came into the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I worried. I wish you wouldn't take them long rides. Oh, I +guess it's lumbago—mostly—but seems like it ain't, either. The pain +seems to be mostly in my side." She stirred restlessly and moaned +again. +</P> + +<P> +"What's Phoebe been doing for it? You don't seem to have any fever, +mommie—and that's a good thing. I'll go fix you one of those dandy +spice poultices. Had any supper, mommie?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I couldn't eat. Phoebe made a hop poultice, but it's awful soppy." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, never mind. Your dear daughter is on the job now. She'll have +you all comfy in just about two minutes. Head ache, mum? All right. +I'll just shake up your pilly and bring you such a dandy spice poultice +I expect you'll want to eat it!" Billy Louise's voice was soft and had +a broody sweetness when she wished it so, that soothed more than +medicine. Her mother's eyes closed wearily while the girl talked; the +muscles of her face relaxed a little from their look of pain. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise bent and laid her lips lightly on her mother's cheek. +"Poor old mommie! I'd have come home a-running if I'd known she was +sick and had to have nasty, soppy stuff." +</P> + +<P> +In the kitchen a very different Billy Louise measured spices, and asked +a question now and then in a whisper, and breathed with a repressed +unevenness which betrayed the strain she was under. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell John to saddle up and go for the doctor, Phoebe, and don't let +mommie know, whatever you do. This isn't her lumbago at all. I don't +know what it is. I wonder if a hot turpentine cloth wouldn't be better +than this? I've a good mind to try it; her eyes are glassy with fever, +and her skin is cold as a fish. You tell John to hurry up. He can +ride Boxer. Tell him I want him to get a doctor here by to-morrow noon +if he has to kill his horse doing it." +</P> + +<P> +"Is she that bad?" Phoebe's black eyes glistened with consternation. +"She's groaned all day and shook her head like this all time." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, stop looking like that! No wonder she's sick, if you've stood +over her with that kind of a face on you. You look as if someone were +dead in the house!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm skeered of sick folks. Honest, it gives me shivers." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, keep out then. Make some fresh tea, Phoebe—or no, make some +good, strong coffee. I'll need it, if I'm up all night. Make it +strong, Phoebe. Hurry, and—" She stopped short and ran into the +bedroom, called there by her mother's cry of pain. +</P> + +<P> +That night took its toll of Billy Louise and left a seared place in her +memory. It was a night of snapping fire in the cook-stove that hot +water might be always ready; of tireless struggle with the pain that +came and tortured, retired sullenly from Billy Louise's stubborn +fighting with poultices and turpentine cloths and every homely remedy +she had ever heard of, and came again just when she thought she had won +the fight. +</P> + +<P> +There was no time to give thought to the trouble that had ridden home +with her, though its presence was like a black shadow behind her while +she worked and went to and fro between bedroom and kitchen, and fought +that tearing pain. +</P> + +<P> +She met the dawn hollow-eyed and so tired she could not worry very much +about anything. Her mother slept uneasily to prove that the battle had +not gone altogether against the girl who had fought the night through. +She had her reward in full measure when the doctor came, in the heat of +noon, and after terrible minutes of suspense for Billy Louise while he +counted pulse and took temperature and studied symptoms, told her that +she had done well, and that she and her homely poultices had held back +tragedy from that house. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise lay down upon the couch out on the back porch and slept +heavily for three hours, while Phoebe and the doctor watched over her +mother. +</P> + +<P> +She woke with a start. She had been dreaming, and the dream had taken +from her cheeks what little color her night vigil had left. She had +dreamed that Ward was in danger, that men were hunting him for what he +had done at that corral. The corral seemed the center of a fight +between Ward and the men. She dreamed that he came to her, and that +she must hide him away and save him. But though she took him to +Minervy's cave, which was secret enough for her purpose, yet she could +not feel that he was safe, even there. There was something—some +menace. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise went softly into the house, tiptoed to the door of her +mother's room, and saw that she lay quiet, with her eyes closed. +Beside the window the doctor sat with his spectacles far down toward +the end of his nose, reading a pale-green pamphlet that he must have +brought in his pocket. Phoebe was down by the creek, washing clothes +in the shade of a willow-clump. +</P> + +<P> +She went into her own room, still walking on her toes. In her trunk +was a blue plush box of the kind that is given to one at Christmas. It +was faded, and the clasp was showing brassy at the edges. Sitting upon +her bed with the box in her lap, Billy Louise pawed hastily in the +jumble of keepsakes it held: an eagle's claw which she meant sometime +to have mounted for a brooch; three or four arrowheads of the shiny, +black stuff which the Indians were said to have brought from +Yellowstone Park, a knot of green ribbon which she had worn to a St. +Patrick's Day dance in Boise; rattlesnake rattles of all sizes; several +folded clippings—verses that had caught her fancy and had been put +away and forgotten; an amber bead she had found once. She turned the +box upside down in her lap and shook it. It must be there—the thing +she sought; the thing that had troubled her most in her dream; the +thing that was a menace while it existed. It was at the very bottom of +the box, caught in a corner. She took it out with fingers that +trembled, crumpled it into a little ball so that she could not read +what it said, straightened it immediately, and read it reluctantly from +the beginning to the end where the last word was clipped short with +hasty scissors. A paragraph cut from a newspaper, it was; yellow and +frayed from contact with other objects, telling of things— +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise bit her lips until they hurt, but she could not keep back +the tears that came hot and stinging while she read. She slid the +little heap of odds and ends to the middle of the bed, crushed the +clipping into her palm, and went out stealthily into the immaculate +kitchen. As if she were being spied upon, she went cautiously to the +stove, lifted a lid, and dropped the clipping in where the wood blazed +the brightest. She watched it flare and become nothing—not even a +pinch of ashes; the clipping was not very large. When it was gone, she +put the lid back and went tiptoeing to the door. Then she ran. +</P> + +<P> +Phoebe was down by the creek, so Billy Louise went to the stable, +through that and on beyond, still running. Farther down was a grassy +nook—on, beyond the road. She went there and hid behind the willows, +where she could cry and no one be the wiser. But she could not cry the +ache out of her heart, nor the rebellion against the hurt that life had +given her. If she could only have burned memory when she burned that +clipping! She could still believe and be happy, if only she could +forget the things it said. +</P> + +<P> +Phoebe called her, after a long while had passed. Billy Louise bathed +her face in the cold water of the Wolverine, used her handkerchief for +a towel, and went back to take up the duties life had laid upon her. +The doctor's team was hitched to the light buggy he drove, and the +doctor was standing in the doorway with his square medicine-case in his +hand, waiting to give her a few final directions before he left. +</P> + +<P> +He was like so many doctors; he seemed to be afraid to tell the whole +truth about his patient. He stuck to evasive optimism and then +neutralized the reassurances he uttered by emphasizing the necessity of +being notified if Mrs. MacDonald showed any symptoms of another attack. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't wait," he told Billy Louise gravely. "Send for me at once if +she complains of that pain again, or appears—" +</P> + +<P> +"But what is it?" Billy Louise would not be put off by any vagueness. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor told Billy Louise in terms that carried no meaning whatever +to her mind. She gathered merely that it was rather serious if it +persisted—whatever it was—and that she must not leave her mommie for +many hours at a time, because she might have another attack at any +time. The doctor told her, however, in plain English that mommie was +well over this attack—whatever it was—and that she need only be kept +quiet for a few days and given the medicine—whatever that was—that he +had left. +</P> + +<P> +"It does seem as if everything is all muffled up in mystery!" she +complained, when he drove away. "I can fight anything I can see, but +when I've got to go blindfolded—" She brushed her fingers across her +eyes and glanced hurriedly into the little looking-glass that hung +beside the door. "Yes, mommie, just a minute," she called cheerfully. +</P> + +<P> +She ran into her own room, grabbed a can of talcum, and did not wait to +see whether she applied it evenly to her telltale eyelids, but dabbed +at them on the way to her mother's room. +</P> + +<P> +"Doctor says you're all right, mommie; only you mustn't go digging +post-holes or shoveling hay for awhile." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I guess not!" Her mother responded unconsciously to the +stimulation of Billy Louise's tone. "I couldn't dig holes with a +teaspoon, I'm that weak and useless. Did he say what it was, Billy +Louise?" The sick are always so curious about their illnesses! +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, your lumbago got to scrapping with your liver. I forget the name +he gave it, but it's nothing to worry about." Billy Louise had +imagination, remember. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess he'd think it was something to worry about, if he had it," her +mother retorted fretfully, but reassured nevertheless by the casual +manner of Billy Louise. "I believe I could eat a little mite of toast +and drink some tea," she added tentatively. +</P> + +<P> +"And an egg poached soft if you want it, mom. Phoebe just brought in +the eggs." Billy Louise went out humming unconcernedly under her +breath as if she had not a care beyond the proper toasting of the bread +and brewing of the tea. +</P> + +<P> +One need not go to war or voyage to the far corners of the earth to +find the stuff heroes are made of. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +EACH IN HIS OWN TRAIL +</H4> + +<P> +Since nothing in this world is absolutely immutable—the human emotions +least of all, perhaps—Billy Louise did not hold changeless her broken +faith in Ward. She saw it broken into fragments before the evidence of +her own eyes, and the fragments ground to dust beneath the weight of +what she knew of his past—things he had told her himself. So she +thought there was no more faith in him, and her heart went empty and +aching through the next few days. +</P> + +<P> +But, since Billy Louise was human, and a woman—not altogether because +she was twenty!—she stopped, after awhile, gathered carefully the dust +of her dead faith, and, like God, she began to create. First she +fashioned doubts of her doubt. How did she know she had not made a +mistake, there at that corral? Other men wore gray hats and rode dark +bay horses; other men were slim and tall—and she had only had a +glimpse after all, and the light was deceptive down there in the +shadows. When that first doubt was molded, and she had breathed into +it the breath of life so that it stood sturdily before her, she took +heart and created reasons, a whole company of them, to tell her why she +ought to give Ward the benefit of the doubt. She remembered what +Charlie Fox had said about circumstantial evidence. She would not make +the mistake he had made. +</P> + +<P> +So she spent other days and long, wakeful nights. And since it seemed +impossible to bring her faith to life again just as it had been, with +the glamor of romance and the sweetness of pity and the strength of her +own innocence to make it a beautiful faith indeed, she used all her +innocence and all her pity and a little of romance and created +something even sweeter than her untried faith had been. She had a new +element to strengthen it. She knew that she loved Ward; she had +learned that from the hurt it had given her to lose her faith in him. +</P> + +<P> +That was the record of the inner Billy Louise which no one ever saw. +The Billy Louise which her little world knew went her way unchanged, +except in small details that escaped the notice of those nearest her. +A look in her eyes, for one thing; a hurt, questioning look that was +sometimes rebellious as well; a droop of her mouth, also, when she was +off her guard; a sad, tired little droop that told of the weight of +responsibility and worry she was carrying. +</P> + +<P> +Ward observed both, the minute he saw her on the trail. He had come +across country on the chance that she might be riding out that way, and +he had come upon her unawares while she and Blue were staring out over +the desert from the height they had attained in the hills. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lo, Bill!" he said, when he was quite close, and held himself ready +to meet whatever mood she might present. +</P> + +<P> +She turned her head quickly and looked at him, and the hurt look was +still in her eyes, the droop still showed at her lips. And Ward knew +they had been there before she saw him. +</P> + +<P> +"Wha's molla, Bill?" he asked, in the tone that was calculated to +invite an unburdening of her troubles. +</P> + +<P> +"Ob, nothing in particular. Mommie's been awfully sick, and I'm always +worried when I'm away from the ranch, for fear she'll have another +spell while I'm gone. The doctor said she might have, any time. Were +you headed for our place? If you are, come on; I was just starting +back. I don't dare be away any longer." If that were a real +unburdening, Ward was an unreasonable young man. Billy Louise looked +at him again, and this time her eyes were clear and friendly. +</P> + +<P> +Ward was not satisfied, for all the surface seemed smooth enough. He +was too sensitive not to feel a difference, and he was too innocent of +any wrongdoing or thinking to guess what was the matter. Guilt is a +good barometer of personal atmosphere, and Ward had none of it. The +worst of him she had known for more than a year; he had told her +himself, and she had healed the hurt—almost—of the past by her firm +belief in him and by her friendship. Could you expect Ward to guess +that she had seen her faith in him die a violent death no longer than +two weeks ago? Such a possibility never occurred to him. +</P> + +<P> +For all that, he felt there was a difference somewhere. It chilled his +eagerness a little, and it blanketed his enthusiasm so that he did not +tell her the things he had meant to tell. He had ridden over with +another nugget in his pocket—a nugget the size of an almond. He had +come to give it to Billy Louise and to tell her how and where he had +found it. +</P> + +<P> +It is too bad that he changed his mind again and kept that lump of gold +in his pocket. It would have explained so much, if he had given it to +Billy Louise to put in her blue plush treasure box. It would even have +brought to life that first faith in him. She might have told him—one +never can foresee the lengths to which a woman's confessional mood will +carry her—about that corral hidden in the canyon, and of her sickening +certainty that she had seen him ride stealthily away from it. If she +had, he would have convinced her that she was mistaken, and that he had +that afternoon been washing gold a good ten miles from there, until it +was too dark for him to work. +</P> + +<P> +He took the nugget back home, and he took it sooner than he had +intended to return. He also carried back a fit of the blues which +seemed to have attacked him without cause or pretext, since he had not +quarreled with Billy Louise, and had been warmly welcomed by "mommie." +Poor mommie was looking white and frail, and her temples were too +distinctly veined with purple. Ward told himself that it was no wonder +his Wilhemina acted strained and unnatural. He meant to work harder +than ever and get his stake so that he could go and make her give him +the right to take care of her. +</P> + +<P> +He began to figure the cost of commuting his homestead right away, so +that he would not have to "hold it down" for another three years. +Maybe she would not want to bring her mother so far off the main road. +In that case, he would go down and put that Wolverine place in shape. +He had no squeamishness about living on her ranch instead of his own, +if she wanted it that way. He meant to be better "hooked up" +financially than she was and have more cattle, when he put the gold +ring on her finger. Then he would do whatever she wanted him to do, +and he would not have to crucify his pride doing it. +</P> + +<P> +You see, they could not have quarreled, since Ward carried castles as +well as the blues. In fact, their parting had given Ward an uneven +pulse for a mile, for Billy Louise had gone with him as usual as far as +the corral, when he started home. And when Ward had picked up his +reins and turned to put his toe in the stirrup, Billy Louise had come +close—to his very shoulder. Ward had turned his face toward her, and +Billy Louise—Billy Louise had impulsively taken his head between her +two hands, had looked deep into his eyes, and then had kissed him +wistfully on the lips. Then she had turned and fled up the path, +waving him away up the trail. And though Ward never guessed that to +her that kiss was a penitent vow of loyalty to their friendship and a +slap in the face of the doubt-devils that still pursued her weaker +moments, it set him planning harder than ever for that stake he must +win before he dared urge her further toward matrimony. +</P> + +<P> +It's a wonder that the kiss did not wipe out completely the somber mood +that held him. That it did not, but served merely to tangle his +thoughts in a most hopeless manner, perhaps proves how greatly the +inner life of Billy Louise had changed her in those two weeks. +</P> + +<P> +She changed still more in the next two months, however. There was the +strain of her mother's precarious health which kept Billy Louise always +on the alert and always trying to hide her fears. She must be quick to +detect the first symptoms of a return attack of the illness, and she +must not let her mother suspect that there was danger of a return. +That much the doctor had made plain to her. +</P> + +<P> +Besides that, there was an undercurrent of gossip and rumors of cattle +stealing, whenever a man stopped at the ranch. It worried Billy +Louise, in spite of her rebuilt belief in Ward. Doubt would seize her +sometimes in spite of herself, and she did not see Ward often enough to +let his personality fight those doubts. She saw him just once in the +next two months, and then only for an hour or so. +</P> + +<P> +A man rode up one night and stayed with them until morning, after the +open-handed custom of the range-land. Billy Louise did not talk with +him very much. He had shifty eyes and a coarse, loose-lipped mouth and +a thick neck, and, girl-like, she took a violent dislike to him. But +John Pringle told her afterwards that he was Buck Olney, the new stock +inspector, and that he was prowling around to see if he could find out +anything. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise worried a good deal, after that. Once she rode out early +with the intention of going to Ward's claim to warn him. But three +miles of saner thought changed her purpose: she dared not leave her +mother all day, for one thing; and for another, she could scarcely warn +Ward without letting him see that she felt he needed warning; and even +Billy Louise shrank from what might follow. +</P> + +<P> +The stock inspector stopped again, on his way back to the railroad. +Billy Louise was so anxious that she smothered her dislike and treated +him nicely, which thawed the man to an alarming amiability. She +questioned him artfully—trust Billy Louise for that!—and she decided +that the stock inspector was either a very poor detective or a very +good actor. He did not, for instance, mention any corral hidden in a +blind canyon away back in the hills, and Billy Louise did not mention +it, either. He had not found any worked brands, he said. And he did +not appear to know anything further about Ward than the mere fact of +his existence. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a fellow holding down a claim, away over on Mill Creek," he +had remarked. "I'll look him up when I come back, though Seabeck says +he's all right." +</P> + +<P> +"Ward is all right," asserted Billy Louise, rather unwisely. +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't a doubt of it. I thought maybe he might have seen something +that might give us a clew." Perhaps the stock inspector was wiser than +she gave him credit for being. He did not at any rate pursue the +subject any farther, until he found an opportunity to talk to Mrs. +MacDonald herself. Then he artfully mentioned the fellow on Mill +Creek, and because she did not know any reason for caution, he got all +the information he wanted, and more, for mommie was in one of her +garrulous humors. +</P> + +<P> +He went away in a thoughtful mood, and I may as well tell you why. Do +you remember that evening when Ward sat before the fire thinking so +intently of a man that he pulled a gun on Billy Louise when she +startled him? Well, this stock inspector was the man. And this man +went away from the Wolverine thinking of Ward quite as intently as Ward +sometimes thought of him. If Billy Louise had thrown a chip and hit +the stock inspector on the back of the neck, it is very likely that he +would have pulled a gun, also. I've an idea that Billy Louise might +have done something more than throw a chip at him if she had known who +he was; but she did not know, and she slept the sounder for her +ignorance. +</P> + +<P> +After that the days drifted quietly for a month and grew nippier at +each end and lazier in the middle; which meant that the short summer +was over, and that fall was getting ready to paint the wooded slopes +with her gayest colors, and that one must prepare for the siege of +winter. +</P> + +<P> +It was some time in the latter part of September that Billy Louise got +up in the middle of a frosty night because she heard her mother +moaning. That was the beginning. She sent John off before daylight +for the doctor, and before the next night she stood with her lips +pressed together and watched the doctor count mommie's pulse and take +mommie's temperature, and drew in her breath hardly when she saw how +long he studied the thermometer afterwards. +</P> + +<P> +There was a month or so of going to and fro on her toes and of watching +the clock with a mind to medicine-giving. There were nights and nights +and nights when the cabin window winked like a star fallen into the +coulee, from dusk to red dawn. Ward rode over once, stayed all night, +and went home in a silent rage because he could not do a thing. +</P> + +<P> +There was a week of fluctuating hope, and a time when the doctor said +mommie must go to a hospital—Boise, since she had friends there. And +there was a terrible, nerve-racking journey to the railroad. And when +Ward rode next to the Wolverine ranch, there was no Billy Louise to +taunt or tempt him. John Pringle and Phoebe told him in brief, stolid +sentences of the later developments and gave him a meal and offered him +a bed, which he declined. +</P> + +<P> +When the suspense became maddening, after that, he would ride down to +the Wolverine for news. And the news was monotonously scant. Phoebe +could read and write, after a fashion, and Billy Louise sent her a +letter now and then, saying that mommie was about the same, and that +she wanted John to do certain things about the ranch. She could not +leave mommie, she said. Ward gathered that she would not. +</P> + +<P> +Once when he was at the ranch, he wrote a letter to Billy Louise, and +told her that he would come to Boise if there was anything he could do, +and begged her to let him know if she needed any money. Beyond that he +worked and worked, and tried to crowd the lonesomeness out of his days +and the hunger from his dreams, with complete bone-weariness. He did +not expect an answer to his letter—at least he told himself that he +did not—but one day Phoebe gave him a thin little letter more precious +in his eyes than the biggest nugget he had found. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise did not write much; she explained that she could only +scribble a line or two while mommie slept. Mommie was about the same. +She did not think there was anything Ward could do, and she thanked him +for offering to help. There was nothing, she said pathetically, that +anybody could do; even the doctors did not seem able to do much, except +tell her lies and charge her for them. No, she did not need any money, +"thank you just the same, Ward." That was about all. It did not sound +in the least like Billy Louise. +</P> + +<P> +Ward answered the note then and there, and called her +Wilhemina-mine—which was an awkward name to write and cost him five +minutes of cogitation over the spelling. But he wanted it down on +paper where she could see it and remember how it sounded when he said +it, even if it did look queer. Farther along he started to call her +Bill Loo, but rubbed it out and substituted Lady Girl (with capitals). +Altogether he did better than he knew, for he made Billy Louise cry +when she read it, and he made her say "Dear Ward!" under her breath, +and remember how his hair waved over his left temple, and how he looked +when that smile hid just behind his lips and his eyes. And he made her +forget that she had lost faith in him. She needed to cry, and she +needed to remember and also to forget some things; for life was a hard, +dull drab in Boise, with nothing to lighten it, save a vicarious hope +that did not comfort. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise was not stupid. She saw through the vagueness of the +doctors; and besides, she was so hungry for her hills that she felt +like beating the doctors with her fists, because they did nothing to +make her mommie well enough to go home. She grew to hate the nurse and +her neutral cheerfulness. +</P> + +<P> +That is how the fall passed for Billy Louise, and the early part of the +winter. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +"YOU WON'T GET ME AGAIN" +</H4> + +<P> +One day late in the fall, Ward was riding the hills off to the north +and west of his claim, looking at the condition of the range there and +keeping an eye out for Y6 cattle. He had bought another dozen head of +mixed stock, over toward Hardup, and they were not yet past the point +of straying off their new range. So, having keen eyes and the +incentive to use them, he paid attention to stock tracks in the soft +places, and he saw everything within the sweep of his vision; and, +since the day was clear and fine, his range of vision, when he reached +a high point, extended to the Three Buttes away out in the desert. +</P> + +<P> +By sheer accident he rode up to the canyon where the little corral lay +hidden at the end, and looked down. And since he rode up at an angle +different from the one Billy Louise had taken, the corral was directly +beneath him—so directly, in fact, that half of it was hidden from +sight. He saw that there were cattle within it, however, and two men +at work there. And by chance he lifted his eyes and saw the nose of a +horse beyond a jutting ledge sixty yards or so away, and the crown of a +hat showing just above the ledge; a lookout, he judged instantly, and +pulled Rattler behind the rock he had been at some pains to ride around. +</P> + +<P> +Ward was a cowpuncher. He knew the tricks of the trade so well that he +did not wonder what was going on down there. He knew. He was tempted +to do as Billy Louise had done—ride on and pass up knowledge which +might be disagreeable; for Ward was not one to spy upon his fellows, +and the man whom he would betray into the hands of a sheriff must be +guilty of a most heinous crime. That was his code: To let every fellow +have a chance to work out his own salvation or damnation as he might +choose. I don't suppose there was anything he hated worse than an +informer. +</P> + +<P> +He got behind the rock, since he had no great desire to be shot, and he +discovered that his view of the corral was much plainer than from where +he had first seen it. He looked behind him for an easy retreat to the +skyline, and then before he turned to ride away, he glanced down again +curiously. +</P> + +<P> +A man walked out into the center of the corral and stood there in the +revealing sunlight. Ward's eyes bored like gimlets through the space +that divided them. Instinctively his hand went to the gun on his hip. +It was a long pistol shot, and he was afraid he might miss; for Ward +was not a wizard with a gun, much as I should like to misrepresent him +as a dead shot. He was human, just like yourself. He could shoot +pretty well, a great deal better than lots of men who do more boasting +than he ever did, but he frequently missed. He measured the distance +with his mind while the man stood there talking to someone unseen. To +look at Ward's face, you would have sworn that the man was doomed; but +something held Ward's finger from crooking on the trigger; the man had +his back turned squarely toward the gun. Ward waited. The man did not +move. He waited another minute, and then he opened his lips to shout. +And when his lips parted for the call that would bring the fellow +facing him, Ward's tricky brain snapped before his eyes the face of +Billy Louise. +</P> + +<P> +He lowered the gun. He could not shoot when he knew that the bullet +would split a gulf between himself and the girl—a gulf that would +separate him forever from that future where stood his air castles. +Billy Louise had talked to him very seriously one day about this very +possibility. She had made him see that shooting this man would be the +worst thing he could possibly do. +</P> + +<P> +He let down the hammer with his thumb, slid the gun back into his +holster, and dismounted, with a glance toward the place where the +lookout was stationed. He was sure he had not been seen, and so he +crouched behind a splinter of rock and watched. He had no plan, but +his instinct impelled him to closely watch Buck Olney. +</P> + +<P> +Another man came into view, down there in the corral. He also stood +plainly revealed, and Ward gave a little snort of contemptuous surprise +when he recognized him. After that he studied the situation with +scowling brows. This other man either upset his conclusions or +complicated his manner of dealing with Buck Olney. Ward would not have +hesitated one second about putting the sheriff on the trail of Buck, +but if the second man were implicated, he could not betray one without +betraying the other. And if the business down there in the corral were +lawful, then he must think of some other means. At any rate, the thing +to do now was to make sure. +</P> + +<P> +The two in the corral came out and closed the gate behind them, and the +first man kicked apart the embers of a small fire and afterward busied +himself with the ground—either looking for tracks or covering them Up. +They came a little way along the side of the bluff, mounted, and rode +up toward where the lookout waited. And one of them rode a dark bay, +and was slim and tall, and wore a gray hat. +</P> + +<P> +Ward glanced at Rattler standing half asleep with reins dropped to the +ground. He reached out, took the reins, and led the horse farther down +under the shelter of the ledge. Rattler pricked up his ears at the +sound of those other riders, but he did not show enough interest to +nicker a greeting; he was always a self-centered beast and was content +to go his way alone, like his master. +</P> + +<P> +Ward stood up, where he could see the rim of the bluff over the ledge +of lava rock. He might get a closer view and see who was the look out, +and he might be seen; for that contingency he kept his fingers close to +his gun. He heard their scrambling progress. Now and then one of the +horses sent a little rock bounding down into the canyon, whereat the +cattle on the corral moved restlessly around the small inclosure. +</P> + +<P> +They came closer, after they had gained the top. Ward, leaning against +the dull-gray rock before him, heard the murmur of their voices. Once +he caught the unmistakable tones of the man he would like to kill. +"I'll keep cases and git him." Plotting against some poor devil, as +usual, Ward thought, and wondered if the man knew he lived in this part +of the country; if he did, it might easily be— +</P> + +<P> +"I'll keep cases some myself, you damned reptile," he muttered under +his breath. "You won't get me again, if that's what you've got in +mind." +</P> + +<P> +They went on, and presently Ward was looking at their backs as they +rode over the ridge. He stood for some time staring after them with +what Billy Louise called his gimlet look. He was breathing shortly +from the pressure he had put upon his self-control, and he was +thinking—thinking. +</P> + +<P> +The silence came creeping in on the heels of the faint, interrupted +sound of their voices. Ward took a long breath, discovered that he was +gripping his gun as though his life depended on hanging to it, and +rubbed his numbed fingers absently. After a minute or so, he mounted +and rode down to the corral. +</P> + +<P> +Five dry cows and two steers snorted at his approach and crowded +against the farther rails. Ward gave Rattler a touch of the spurs, +rode close to the fence, and stood in his stirrups while he studied the +bunch. +</P> + +<P> +"Hell!" he said, when the inspection was over, and dropped back into +the saddle while he gazed unseeingly at the canyon wall. It was a very +real hell that his mind saw; a hell made by men, wherein other men must +dwell in torment because of their sins or the sins of their fellows. +</P> + +<P> +Seabeck's brand was a big V, a bad brand to own, since it favors +revision at the hands of the unscrupulous. These cattle were Seabeck +cattle, and their brand had been altered. For the right slant of the V +had been extended a little and curled into a 6, so that in time the +brand would stand casual inspection as a Y6 monogram—Ward's own brand. +The work was crude—purposefully crude. The V bad not been reburned +enough to make it look fresh, and the newly seared 6 had been added +with a malevolent pressure that would make it stand out a fresh brand +for a long time—in case of a delay in the proceedings, as Ward knew +perfectly well. +</P> + +<P> +So he sat there and looked over the fence and saw himself a convicted +"rustler." There was the evidence, all ready to damn him utterly +before a jury. They would be turned loose on the range near his claim, +and they would be found before the scabs had haired over. It was a +good time for rustling; round-ups were over for the winter, and the +weather would confine range-riding to absolute necessity. +</P> + +<P> +Of course, the work was coarse—so coarse as to reflect against his +intelligence; but when brands are worked over and the culprit has been +caught, the law is not too careful to give the prisoner credit for +brains. +</P> + +<P> +Ward stared at the altered brands and wondered what he had best do. He +bethought him that perhaps it would be as well to put a little scenery +between himself and that particular locality, and he started back up +the hill. Once he pulled up as if he would go back, but he thought +better of it. It was out of the question to turn those cattle loose. +He could not kill them and dispose of the bodies—not when there were +seven of them. He might go down and blotch the brands so that they +would not read anything at all. He had thought of that before and +decided against it. That would put those three on their guard and +would probably not benefit him in the long run. They could work the +brands on other cattle. +</P> + +<P> +He hunched forward in the saddle and let Rattler choose his own trail +up the hill. Though he did not know it, trouble had caught Billy +Louise in that same place, and had sent her forward with drooping +shoulders and a mind so absorbed that she gave no attention to her +horse; but that is merely a trifling coincidence. The thing he had to +decide was far more complicated than Billy Louise's problem. +</P> + +<P> +Should he go straight to Seabeck and tell him what he had found out? +He did not know Seabeck, except as he had met him once or twice on the +trail and exchanged trivial greetings and a few words about the +weather. Besides, Seabeck would very soon find out— +</P> + +<P> +There it stood at his shoulder, grinning at him malevolently—his past. +It tied his hands. Buck Olney he could deal with single-handed; for +Olney had the fear of him that is born of a guilty conscience. He +could send Buck "over the road" whenever he chose to tell some things +he knew; he could do it without any compunctions, too. Buck Olney, the +stock inspector, deserved no mercy at Ward's hands; and would get none, +if ever they met where Ward would have a chance at him. +</P> + +<P> +Olney he could deal with, alone. But with the evidence of those +rebranded cattle, and the testimony of two men, together with the +damning testimony of his past! Ward lifted his head and stared heavily +at the pine slope before him. He could not go to Seabeck and tell him +anything. In the black hour of that ride, he could not think of +anything that he could do that would save him. +</P> + +<P> +And then quite suddenly, in his desperation, he decided upon something. +He laughed hardly, turned Rattler back from the homeward trail, and +returned to the corral in the canyon. "They started this game, and +they've put it up to me," he told himself grimly, "and they needn't +squeal if they burn their own fingers." +</P> + +<P> +He hurried, for he had some work ahead of him, and the sun was sliding +past the noon mark already. He reached the corral and went about what +he had to do as if he were working for wages and wanted to give good +measure. +</P> + +<P> +First, he rebuilt the little fire just outside the corral where the +cattle could not trample it, but where one might thrust a branding iron +into its midst from between the rails. When it was going properly, he +searched certain likely hiding-places and found an iron still warm from +previous service. He thrust it in to heat, led Rattler into the +corral, and closed the gate securely behind him. Then he mounted, took +down his rope and widened the loop, while his angry eyes singled out +the animal he wanted first. +</P> + +<P> +Ward was not an adept with a "running iron"; he was honest, whatever +men might say of him. But he knew how to tie down an animal, and he +sacrificed part of his lariat to get the short rope he needed to tie +their feet together. He worked fast—no telling what minute someone +might come and catch him—and he did his work well, far better and +neater than had his predecessors. +</P> + +<P> +When he left that corral, he smiled. Before he had ridden very far up +the bluff, he stopped, looked down at the long-suffering cattle, and +smiled again sardonically. One could read their brands easily from +where he sat on his horse. They were not blotched; they were very +distinct. But they were not Y6s within that corral. There were other +brands which might be made of a Y6 monogram, by the judicious addition +of a mark here and a mark there. +</P> + +<P> +"There, damn yuh: chew on that awhile!" he apostrophized the absent +three. He turned away and rode back once more toward home. +</P> + +<P> +Rattler turned naturally into the trail which ran up the creek to the +ranch, but Ward immediately turned him out of it. "We aren't going to +overlook any bets, old-timer," he said grimly and crossed the creek at +a point where it was too rocky to leave any hoof-prints behind them. +He rode up the lower point of the ridge beyond and followed the crest +of it on the side away from the valley. When he reached a point nearly +opposite his cabin, he dismounted, unbuckled his spurs, and slipped +their chains over the saddle-horn. Then he went forward afoot to +reconnoitre. He was careful to avoid rock or gravelly patches and to +walk always on the soft grass which muffled his steps. +</P> + +<P> +In this wise he made his way to the top of the ridge, where he could +look down upon the cabin and stable and corrals and see also the creek +trail for a good quarter of a mile. The little valley lay quiet. His +team fed undisturbed by the creek not far from the corral, which +reassured Ward more than anything. Still, he waited until he had made +reasonably sure that the bluff held no watcher concealed before he went +back to where Rattler waited patiently. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess they didn't plan to stir things up till they got those +critters planted where they wanted them," he mused, while he rode down +the bluff to his cabin. "But when they visit that bunch of stock +again, I reckon things will begin to tighten!" +</P> + +<P> +He was wary of exposing himself too much to view from the bluff while +he did his chores that night, and he kept Rattler in the stable. Also, +he slept very little, and before daybreak he was up and away. He had a +rolled army blanket tied behind the saddle, a sack of grub and a +frying-pan and a bucket for coffee. But he did not go any farther than +the wolf-den, and he spent a couple of hours removing as well as he +could any suspicious traces of having dug anything more than wolf pups +from the bank on the ledge. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +"I'M GOING TO TAKE YOU OUT AND HANG YOU" +</H4> + +<P> +The trouble with a man like Buck Olney is that you can never be sure of +his method, except that it will be underhand and calculated to +eliminate as much as possible any risk to himself. Ward, casting back +into his memory—he had known Buck Olney very well, once upon a time, +and in his unsuspecting youth had counted him a friend—tried to guess +how Buck would proceed when he went down to that corral and found how +those brands had been retouched. +</P> + +<P> +"He'll be running around in circles for awhile, all right," he deduced +with an air of certainty. "Blotched brands he'd know was my work; and +he could have put it on me, too, with a good yarn about trailing me so +close I got cold feet. As it is—" Ward smoked two cigarettes and +scowled at the scenery. As it was, he did not know just what Buck +Olney would do, except— "If he makes a guess I did that, he'll know +I'm wise to the whole plant. And he'll get me, sure, providing I stand +with my back to him long enough!" Ward had his back to a high ledge, +at that moment, so that he did not experience any impulse to look +behind him. +</P> + +<P> +"Buck don't want to drag me up before a jury," he reasoned further. +"He'd a heap rather pack me in all wrapped up in a tarp, and say how +he'd caught me with the goods, and I resisted arrest." +</P> + +<P> +The assurance he felt as to what Buck Olney would do did not +particularly frighten Ward, even if he did neglect to go to bed in his +cabin during the next few days. That was common sense, born of his +knowledge of the man he was dealing with. He went to the cabin warily, +just often enough to give it an air of occupancy. He frequently sat +upon some hilltop and watched a lazy thread of smoke weave upward from +his rusty stovepipe, but he slept out under the stars rolled in his +heavy blanket, and he never crossed a ridge if he could make his way +through a hollow. It is not always cowardice which makes a man +extremely careful not to fall into the hands of his enemy. There is a +small matter of pride involved. Ward would have died almost any death +rather than give Buck Olney the satisfaction of "getting" him. For a +few days he was cautious as an Indian on the war trail, and then his +patience frazzled out under the strain. +</P> + +<P> +At sunrise one morning, after a night of shivering in his blanket, he +hunched his shoulders in disgust of his caution. If Buck Olney wanted +anything of him, he was certainly taking his time about coming after +it. Ward rubbed his fingers over his stubbly jaw, and the +uncomfortable prickling was the last small detail of discomfort that +decided him. He was going to have a shave and a decent cup of coffee +and eat off his own table, or know the reason why, he promised himself +while he slapped the saddle on Rattler. +</P> + +<P> +He was camped in a sheltered little hollow in the hills, where the +grass was good and there was a spring. It was a mile and more to his +claim, straight across the upland, and it was his habit to leave +Rattler there and walk over to the ridge, where he could watch his +claim; frequently, as I have said, he stole down before daylight and +lighted a fire in the stove, just to make it look as if he lived there. +There was a risk in that, of course, granting that the stock inspector +was the kind to lie in wait for him. +</P> + +<P> +Ward rode to the ridge, with his blanket rolled and tied behind the +cantle. His frying-pan hung behind his leg, and his rifle lay across +the saddle in front of him. He was going home boldly enough and +recklessly enough, but he was by no means disposed to walk deliberately +into a trap. He kept his eye peeled, as he would have expressed it. +Also, he left Rattler just under the crest of the ridge, took off his +spurs, and with his rifle in his hands went forward afoot, as he had +done every time he had approached his cabin since the day he found the +corral and the cattle in the canyon. +</P> + +<P> +In this wise he looked down the steep slope with the sun throwing the +shadow of his head and shoulders before him. The cabin window blinked +cheerfully in the sunlight. His span of mares were coming up from the +meadow—in the faint hope of getting a breakfast of oats, perhaps. The +place looked peaceful enough and cozily desirable to a man who has +slept out for four nights late in the fall; but a glance was all Ward +gave to it. +</P> + +<P> +His eyes searched the bluff below him and upon either side. Of a +sudden they sharpened. He brought his rifle forward with an +involuntary motion of the arms. He stood so for a breath or two, +looking down the hill. Then he went forward stealthily, on his toes; +swiftly, too, so that presently he was close enough to see the +carbuncle scar on the neck of the man crouched behind a rock and +watching the cabin as a cat watches a mouse-hole. A rifle lay across +the rock before the man, the muzzle pointing downward. At that +distance, and from a dead rest, it would be strange if he should miss +any object he shot at. He had what gamblers call a cinch, or he would +have had, if the man he watched for had not been standing directly +behind him, with rifle-sights in a line with the scar on the back of +his thick neck. +</P> + +<P> +"Throw up your hands!" Ward called sharply, when his first flare of +rage had cooled to steady purpose. +</P> + +<P> +Buck Olney jumped as though a yellow-jacket had stung him. He turned a +startled face over his shoulder and jerked the rifle up from the rock. +Ward raised his sights a little and plugged a round, black-rimmed hole +through Buck's hat crown. +</P> + +<P> +"Throw up your hands, I told you!" he said, while the hills opposite +were still flinging back the sound of the shot, and came closer. +</P> + +<P> +Buck grunted an oath, dropped the rifle so suddenly that it clattered +on the rock, and lifted his hands high, in the quiet sunlight. +</P> + +<P> +"Get up from there and go on down to the shack—and keep your hands up. +And remember all the reasons I've got for wanting to see you make a +crooked move, so I'll have an excuse to shoot." Ward came still closer +as he spoke. He was wishing he had brought his rope along. He did not +feel quite easy in his mind while Buck Olney's hands were free. He +kept thinking of what Billy Louise had said to him about shooting this +man, and it was the first time since he had known her that he disliked +the thought of her. +</P> + +<P> +Buck got up awkwardly and went stumbling down the steep slope, with his +hands trembling in the air upon either side of his head. From their +nervous quivering it was evident that his memory was good, and that it +was working upon the subject which Ward had suggested to him. He did +not give Ward the weakest imitation of an excuse to shoot. And so the +two of them came presently down upon the level and passed around the +cabin to the door, with no more than ten feet of space between them—so +inexorably had Ward crowded close upon the other's stumbling progress. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold on a minute!" +</P> + +<P> +Buck stopped as still as though he had gone against a rock wall. +</P> + +<P> +Ward came closer, and Buck flinched away from the feel of the rifle +muzzle between his shoulder blades. Ward reached out a cautious hand +and pulled the six-shooter from its scabbard at Buck's right hip. +</P> + +<P> +"Got a knife? You always used to go heeled with one. Speak up—and +don't lie about it." +</P> + +<P> +"Inside my coat," grunted Buck, and Ward's lip curled while he reached +around the man's bulky body and found the knife in its leather sheath. +Evidently Buck was still remembering with disquieting exactness what +reasons Ward might have for wanting to kill him. +</P> + +<P> +"Take down your left hand and open the door." +</P> + +<P> +Buck did so and put his hand up again without being told. +</P> + +<P> +"Now go in and stand with your face to the wall." With the rifle +muzzle, Ward indicated which wall. He noticed how Buck's fingers +groped and trembled against the wall, just under the eaves, and his lip +curled again in the expression which Billy Louise so hated to see. +</P> + +<P> +Ward had chosen the spot where he could reach easily a small coil of +rope. He kept the rifle pressing Buck's shoulders until he had shifted +the knife into one hand, leaned, and laid its blade against Buck's +cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"Feel that? I'll jab it clear through you if you give me a chance. +Drop your hands down behind you." He spent a busy minute with the rope +before he pushed Buck Olney roughly toward a chair. +</P> + +<P> +Buck sat down, and Ward did a little more rope-work. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, Ward, you're making a big mistake if you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up!" snapped Ward. "Can't you see I'm standing all I can stand, +just with the sight of you? Don't pile it on too thick by letting me +hear you talk. I heard you once too often as it is." +</P> + +<P> +Buck Olney caught his breath and sat very still. His eyes followed +Ward as the eyes of a caged animal follow its keeper. +</P> + +<P> +Ward tried to ignore his presence completely while he lighted a fire +and fried bacon and made coffee, but the hard set of his jaw and the +cold intentness of his eyes proved how conscious he was of Buck's +presence. He tried to eat just to show how calm he was, but the bread +and bacon choked him. He could feel every nerve in his body quiver +with the hatred he felt for the man, and the bitterness which the sight +of him called up out of the past. He drank four cups of coffee, black +and sweetened at random, which steadied him a little. That he did not +offer Buck food or drink showed how intense was his hatred; as a rule, +your true range man is hospitable even to his enemies. +</P> + +<P> +He rose and inspected the ropes to make sure that they were proof +against twisting, straining muscles, and took an extra turn or two with +the loose end, just to make doubly sure of the man's helplessness. +</P> + +<P> +"Where did you leave your horse?" he asked him curtly, when he was +through. +</P> + +<P> +Buck told him, his eyes searching Ward's face for mercy—or at least +for some clew to his fate—and dulling with disappointment because he +could read nothing there but loathing. +</P> + +<P> +Without speaking again, Ward went out and closed the door firmly behind +him. He felt relieved to be away from Buck's presence. As he climbed +the bluff and mentally relived the last hour, he wondered how he had +kept from shooting Buck as soon as he saw him. Still, that would have +defeated his main purpose, which was to make Buck suffer. He was +afraid he could not make Buck suffer as Buck had made him suffer, +because there were obstacles in the path of a perfect retribution. +</P> + +<P> +Ward was not cruel by nature; at least he was not more cruel than the +rest of us; but as he went after Rattler and Buck's horse, it pleased +him to know that Buck Olney was tied hand and foot in his cabin, and +that he was sick with dread of what the future held for him. +</P> + +<P> +Ward was gone an hour. He did not hurry; there was no need. Buck +could not get away, and a little suspense would do him good. +</P> + +<P> +Buck's face was pasty when Ward opened the door. His eyes were a bit +glassy. And from the congested appearance of his hands, Ward judged +that he had tested to the full his helplessness in his bonds. Ward +looked at him a minute and got out the makings of a smoke. His mood +had changed in his absence. He no longer wanted absolute silence +between them; instead, he showed symptoms of wanting to talk. +</P> + +<P> +"If I turn you loose, Buck, what will you do?" he asked at last, in a +curious tone. +</P> + +<P> +"If you—Ward, I'll prove I'm a friend to yuh in spite of the idea +you've got that I ain't. I never done nothing—" +</P> + +<P> +"No, of course not." Ward's lip curled. "That was my mistake, maybe. +You always used to say you were my friend, when—" +</P> + +<P> +"And that's the God's truth, Ward!" Buck's face was becoming flushed +with his eagerness. "I done everything I could for you, Ward, but the +way the cards laid I couldn't—" +</P> + +<P> +"Get me hanged. I know; you sure tried hard enough!" Ward puffed hard +at his cigarette, and the lips that held it trembled a little. +Otherwise he seemed perfectly cool and calm. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, Ward, them lawyers lied to you." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, cut it out, Buck. I've seen you wriggle through a snake-hole +before. I believe you're my friend, just the way you've always been." +</P> + +<P> +"That's right, Ward, and I can prove it." +</P> + +<P> +Ward snorted. "You proved it, old-timer, when you laid up there behind +a rock with your sights on this shack, ready to get me when I came out. +I sabe now how it happened Jim McGuire was found face down in the +spring behind his shack, with a bullet hole in his back, that time. +You were his friend, too!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ward, I—" +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up. I just wanted to see if you'd changed any in the last seven +years. You haven't, unless it's for the worse. You've got to the end +of the trail, old-timer. When you went laying for me, you fixed +yourself a-plenty. Do you want to know what I'm going to do with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ward, you wouldn't dare shoot me! With the record you've got, you +wouldn't stand—" +</P> + +<P> +"Who gave it to me, huh? Oh, I heap sabe; you've left word with your +pardners that you were coming up here to arrest me single-handed. They +will give the alarm, if you don't show up; and I'll go on the dodge and +get caught and—" Ward threw away his cigarette and took a step toward +his captive; a step so ominous that Buck squirmed in his bonds. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you can rest easy on one point. I'm not going to shoot you." +Ward stood still and watched the light of hope flare in the eyes of his +enemy. "I'm going to wash the dishes and take a shave—and then I'm +going to take you out somewhere and hang you." +</P> + +<P> +"My God, Ward! You—you—" +</P> + +<P> +"I told you, seven years ago," went on Ward steadily, "that I'd see you +hung before I was through with you. Remember? By rights you ought to +hang by the heels, over a slow fire! You're about as low a specimen of +humanity as I ever saw or heard of. You know what you did for me, +Buck. And you know what I told you would happen; well, it's going to +come off according to the programme. +</P> + +<P> +"I did think of running you in and giving you a taste of hell yourself. +But, as usual, you've gone and tangled up a couple of fellows that +never did me any particular harm and I don't want to hand them anything +if I can help it. So I'll just string you up—after awhile, when I get +around to it—and leave a note saying who you are, and that you're the +head push in this rustling business, and that you helped spend the +money that Hardup bank lost awhile back; and that you're one of the +gazabos—" +</P> + +<P> +"You can't prove it! You—" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't have to prove it. The authorities will do all that when they +get the tip I'll give them. And you, being hung up on a limb +somewhere, can't very well give your pardner the double-cross; so +they'll have a fighting chance to make their getaway. +</P> + +<P> +"Now I'm through talking to you. What I say goes. You can talk if you +want to, Buck; but I'm going to carve a steak out of you every time you +open your mouth." He pulled Buck's own knife out of its sheath and +laid it convenient to his hand, and he looked as if he would do any +cruel thing he threatened. +</P> + +<P> +He relighted the fire, which had gone out long ago, and set the +dish-pan on the stove with water to heat. He remade his bunk, +spreading on the army blanket which he took from the saddle on Rattler. +He swept the floor as neatly as any woman could have done it and laid +the two wolf-skins down in their places where they did duty as rugs. +He washed and wiped his few dishes, keeping Buck's knife always within +reach and sending an inquiring glance toward Buck whenever that unhappy +man made the slightest movement, though truth to tell, Buck did not +make many. He brought two pails of water and set them on the bench +inside, and in the meantime he had cooked a mess of prunes and set them +in a bowl on the window-sill beside his bunk, where the air was +coolest. He stropped his razor painstakingly and shaved himself in +leisurely fashion and sent an occasional glance toward his prisoner +from the looking-glass, which made Buck swallow hard at his Adam's +apple. +</P> + +<P> +And Buck, during all this time, never once opened his lips, except to +lick his tongue across them, and never once took his eyes off Ward. +</P> + +<P> +"I've sure put the fear of the Lord into you, haven't I, Buck?" Ward +observed maliciously, wiping a blob of hairy lather upon a page torn +from an old Sears-Roebuck catalogue. "I was kinda hoping you had more +nerve. I wanted to get a whack at you, just to prove I'm not joshing." +</P> + +<P> +Buck swallowed again, but he made no reply. +</P> + +<P> +Ward washed his face in a basin of steaming water, got a can of talcum +out of the dish cupboard, and took the soap-shine off his cheeks and +chin. He combed his hair before the little mirror—trying unavailingly +to take the wave out of it with water, and leaving it more crinkly over +his temples than it had been in the first place—and retied the +four-in-hand under the soft collar of his shirt. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you'd talk, Buck," he said, turning toward the other. He +looked very boyish and almost handsome, except for the expression of +his eyes, which gave Buck the shivers, and the set of his lips, which +was cruel. "I've read how the Chinks hand out what they call the +death-of-a-thousand-cuts; I was thinking I'd like to try it out on you. +But—oh, well, this is Friday. It may as well go as a hanging." He +made a poor job of his calm irony, but Buck was not in the mental +condition to be critical. +</P> + +<P> +The main facts were sufficiently ominous to offset Ward's attempt at +facetiousness. Indeed, the very weakness of the attempt was in itself +ominous. Ward might try to be coldly malevolent, but the light that +burned in his eyes, and the rage that tightened his lips, gave the lie +to his forced composure. +</P> + +<P> +He went out and led up the horses to the door. He came back and +started to untie Buck Olney's feet, then bethought him of the statement +he had promised to write. He got a magazine and tore out the +frontispiece—which, oddly enough, was a somber picture of Death +hovering with outstretched wings over a battlefield—and wrote several +lines in pencil on the back of it, where the paper was smooth and white. +</P> + +<P> +"How's that?" he asked, holding up the paper so that Buck could read +what he had written. "I ain't in the mood to sit down and write a +whole book, so I had to boil down your pedigree. But that will do the +business all right, don't you think?" +</P> + +<P> +Buck read with staring eyes, looked into Ward's face, and opened his +lips for protest or pleading. Then he followed Ward's glance to the +knife on the table and shut his mouth with a snap. Ward laughed +grimly, picked up the knife, and ran his thumb lightly over the edge to +test its keenness. "Put a fresh edge on it for me, huh?" he commented. +"Well, we may as well get started, I reckon. I'm getting almighty sick +of seeing you around." +</P> + +<P> +He loosened the rope that hound Buck to the chair and stood scowling +down at him, drawing in a corner of his lip and biting it thoughtfully. +Then he took his revolver and held it in his left hand, while with his +right he undid the rope which hound Buck's hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Stick your hands out in front of you," he commanded. "You'll have to +ride a ways; there isn't any gallows tree in walking distance." +</P> + +<P> +"For God's sake, Ward!" Buck's voice was hoarse. The plea came out of +its own accord. He held his hands before him, however, and he made no +attempt to get out of the chair. He knew Ward could shoot all right +with his left hand, you see. He had watched him practice on tin cans, +long ago when the two were friends. +</P> + +<P> +"You know what I told you," Ward reminded him grimly and took up the +knife with a deadly air that made the other suck in his breath. "Hold +still! I'm liable to cut your throat if I make a mislick." +</P> + +<P> +Really, it was the way he did it that made it terrible. The thing +itself was nothing. He merely drew the back of the blade down +alongside Buck's ear, and permitted the point to scratch through the +skin barely enough to let out a thin trickle of blood. A pin would +have hurt worse. But Buck groaned and believed he had lost an ear. He +breathed in gasps, but did not say a word. +</P> + +<P> +"Go ahead; talk all you want to, Buck," Ward invited, and wiped the +knife-blade on Buck's shoulder before he returned the weapon to its +sheath in his inside coat pocket. +</P> + +<P> +Buck flinched from the touch and set his teeth. Ward tied his hands +before him and told him to get up and go out to his horse. Buck obeyed +with abject submissiveness, and Ward's lip curled again as he walked +behind him to the door. He had not the slightest twinge of pity for +the man. He was gloatingly glad that he could make him suffer, and he +inwardly cursed his own humanity for being so merciful. He ought to +have cut Buck's ear off slick and clean instead of making a bluff at +it, he told himself disgustedly. Buck deserved it and more. +</P> + +<P> +He helped Buck into the saddle, took the short rope in his hands, and +hobbled Buck's feet under the horse, grasped the bridle-reins, and +mounted Rattler. Without a word he set off up the rough trail toward +Hardup, leading Buck's horse behind him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +"SO-LONG, BUCK!" +</H4> + +<P> +"Before you go, Buck, I want to tell you that you needn't jolly +yourself into thinking your death will be avenged. It won't. You +noticed what I wrote; and there isn't a scrap of my writing anywhere in +the country to catch me up—" Ward's thoughts went to Billy Louise, +who had some very good samples, and he stopped suddenly. He was trying +not to think of Billy Louise, to-day. "Also, when somebody happens to +ride this way and sees you, I won't be anywhere around." +</P> + +<P> +"This is the tree," he added, stopping under a cottonwood that flung a +big branch out over the narrow cow-trail they were traveling. "The +chances are friend Floyd will be ambling around this way in a day or +two," he said hearteningly. "He can tend to the last sad rites and +take charge of your horse. He's liable to be sore when he reads your +pedigree, but I don't reckon that will make a great deal of difference. +You'll get buried, all right, Buck." +</P> + +<P> +Ward dismounted with a most businesslike manner and untied Buck Olney's +rope from the saddle. "I can't spare mine," he explained laconically. +He had some trouble in fashioning a hangman's noose. He had not had +much practice, he remarked to Buck after the first attempt. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do it, Buck? You know more about these things than I do," +he taunted. "You've helped hang lots of poor devils that will be glad +to meet yuh in hell to-day." +</P> + +<P> +Buck Olney moistened his dry lips. Ward glanced at his face and looked +quickly away. Staring, abject terror is not nice to look upon, even +though the man is your worst enemy and is suffering justly for his +sins. Ward's fingers fumbled the rope as though his determination were +weakening. Then he remembered some things, hunched his shoulders, +impatient of the merciful impulse, and began the knot again. An old +prospector had shown him once how it was done. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, a plain slip-knot would do the business all right," he +said. "But I'll try and give you the genuine thing, same as you gave +the other fellows." +</P> + +<P> +"Ward, for God's sake, let me go!" +</P> + +<P> +Ward started. He did not know that a man's voice could change so much +in so short a time. He never would have recognized the tones as coming +from Buck Olney's loose, complacent lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Ward, I'll never—I'll leave the country—I'll go to South America, or +Australia, or—" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll go to hell, Buck," Ward cut in inexorably. "You've got your +ticket." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll own up to everything. I'll tell you where some of the money's +cached we got in that Hardup deal, Ward. There's enough to put you on +Easy Street. I'll tell you who helped—" +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better not," advised Ward harshly, "or I'll make hanging a +relief to you. I know pretty well, right now, all you could tell. And +if I wanted to send your pardners up, I wouldn't need your help. It's +partly to give them a chance that I'm sending you out this way, myself. +I don't call this murder, Buck. I'm saving the State a lot of time and +trouble, that's all; and your pardners the black eye they'd get for +throwing in with you. I heap sabe who was the head push. You got them +in to take whatever dropped, so you could get off slick and clean, just +as you've done before, you—you—" +</P> + +<P> +Buck Olney got it then, hot from the fires of Ward's wrath. A man does +not brood over treachery and wrong and a blackened future for years, +without storing up a good many things that he means to say to the +friend who has played him false. Ward had been a happy-go-lucky young +fellow who had faith in men and in himself and in his future. He had +lived through black, hopeless days and weeks and months, because of +this man who tried now to buy mercy with the faith of his partners. +</P> + +<P> +Ward stood up and let the rope trail forgotten from his hands while he +told Buck Olney all the things he had brooded over in bitterness. He +had meant to keep it all down, but it was another instance of bottled +emotions, and Buck, with his offer of a fresh bit of treachery, had +pulled the cork. Ward trembled a little while he talked, and his face +grew paler and paler as he dug deep into the blackest part of the past, +until when he finished he was a tanned white. He was shaking at the +last; shaking so that he staggered to the tree and leaned against it +weakly, while he fumbled for tobacco and papers. +</P> + +<P> +In the saddle Buck sat all hunched together as if Ward had lashed him +with rawhide instead of with stinging words. The muscles of his face +twitched spasmodically. His eyes were growing bloodshot. +</P> + +<P> +Ward spilled two papers of tobacco before he got a cigarette rolled and +lighted. He wondered a little at the physical reaction from his +outburst, but he wondered more at Buck Olney sitting alive and unhurt +on the horse before him—a Seabeck horse which Ward had seen Floyd +Carson riding once or twice. He wondered what Floyd would do if he saw +Buck now and the use to which the horse was being put. +</P> + +<P> +Ward finished the cigarette, rolled another, and smoked that also +before he could put his hand out before him and hold it reasonably +steady. When he felt fairly sure of himself again, he lifted his hat +to wipe off the sweat of his anger, gave a big sigh, and returned to +the tying of the hangman's noose. +</P> + +<P> +When he finally had it fixed the way he wanted it, he went close and +flung the noose over Buck Olney's head. He could not trust himself to +speak just then. He cast an inquiring glance upward, took Buck's horse +by the bridle, and led him forward a few steps so that Buck was +directly under the overhanging limb. Then, with the coil of Buck's +rope in his hand, he turned back and squirmed up the tree-trunk until +he had reached the limb. He crawled out until he was over Buck's +bullet-punctured hat-crown, sliced off what rope he did not need, and +flung it to the ground. He saw Buck wince as the rope went past him. +The pinto horse shied out of position. +</P> + +<P> +"Take the reins and bring him back here!" Ward called shortly, and gave +a twitch of the rope as a hint. +</P> + +<P> +Mechanically Buck obeyed. He did not know that the rope was not yet +tied to the limb. +</P> + +<P> +Ward tied the rope securely, leaving enough slack to keep Buck from +choking prematurely. He fussed a minute longer, with his lip curled +into a grin of sardonic humor. Then he crawled hack to the trunk of +the tree and slid down carefully so that he would not frighten the +pinto. +</P> + +<P> +He went up and took the hobble off Buck Olney's feet, felt in the seam +of his coat-lapel, and pulled out four pins, with which he fastened +Buck's "pedigree" between Buck's shrinking shoulder-blades. Then he +stood off and surveyed his work critically before he went over to +Rattler, who stood dozing in the sunshine. +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry I can't stay to see you off," he told Buck maliciously. "I've +decided to let you go alone and take your own time about starting. As +long as that cayuse stands where he is, you're safe as a church. And +you've got the reins; you can kick off any time you feel like it. +Sabe?" He studied Buck's horror-marked face pitilessly. +</P> + +<P> +"You've got about one chance in a million that you can make that pinto +stand there till someone comes along," he pointed out impartially. +"I'm willing to give you that chance, such as it is. And if you're +lucky enough to win out on it—well, I'd advise you to do some going! +South America is about as close as you'll be safe. Folks around here +are going to know all about you, old-timer, whether they get to read +what's on your back or not. +</P> + +<P> +"And, on the other hand, it's a million-to-one shot you'll land where +your ticket reads. I'd hate to gamble on that horse standing in one +spot for two or three days, wouldn't you?" He wheeled Rattler +unobtrusively, his eye on the pinto. "I hope he don't try to follow," +he said. "I want you to have a little time to think about the things I +said to you. Well, so-long." +</P> + +<P> +Ward rode back the way he had come, glancing frequently over his +shoulder at Buck, slumped in the saddle with a paper pinned to his back +like a fire-warning on a tree, and his own grass rope noosed about his +neck and connecting him with the cottonwood limb six feet above his hat +crown. +</P> + +<P> +Ward had not ridden a hundred yards before he heard Buck Olney scream +hysterically for help. He grinned sourly with his eyebrows pinched +together and, that hard, strained look in his eyes still. "Let him +holler awhile!" he gritted. "Do him good, damn him!" +</P> + +<P> +Until distance and the intervening hills set a wall of silence between, +Ward heard Buck screaming in fear of death, screaming until he was so +hoarse he could only whisper; screaming because he had not seen Ward +take his knife and slice the rope upon the limb so that it would not +have held the weight of a rabbit. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN +</H4> + +<P> +It was past noon when Ward rode down the steep slope to the creek bank +just above his cabin. He was sunk deep in that mental depression which +so often follows close upon the heels of a great outburst of passion. +Mechanically he twitched the reins and sent Rattler down the last shelf +of bank—and he did not look up to see just where he was. Rattler was +a well-trained horse, since he was Ward's. He obeyed the rein signal +and stepped off a two-foot bank into a nest of loose-piled rocks that +slid treacherously under his feet. Sure-footed though he was, he +stumbled and fell; and it was sheer instinct that took Ward's feet from +the stirrups in time. +</P> + +<P> +Ward sprawled among the rocks, dazed. The shock of the fall took him +out of his fit of abstraction, and he pulled away from Rattler as the +horse scrambled up and stood shaking before him. He tried to scramble +up also.... +</P> + +<P> +Ward sat and stared stupidly at his left leg where, midway between his +knee and his foot, it turned out at an unnatural angle. He thought +resentfully that he had had enough trouble for once, without having a +broken leg on top of it all. +</P> + +<P> +"Now this is one hell of a fix!" he stated dispassionately, when pain +had in a measure cooled his first anger. He looked around him like a +man who is taking stock of his resources. He was not far from the +cabin. He could get there by crawling. But what then? +</P> + +<P> +Ward looked at Rattler, standing docilely within reach of his hand. He +considered getting on—if he could, and riding—well, the nearest place +was fifteen miles. And that was a good, long way from a doctor. He +glanced again at the cabin and tried to study the situation +impersonally. If it were some other fellow, now, what would Ward +advise him to do under the circumstances? +</P> + +<P> +He reached down and felt his leg gingerly. So far as he could tell, it +was a straight, simple break—snapped short off against a rock, he +judged. He shook his head over the thought of riding fifteen miles +with those broken bones grinding their edges together. And still, what +else could he do? +</P> + +<P> +He reached out, took the reins, and led Rattler a step nearer, so that +he could grasp the stirrup. With his voice he held the horse quiet +while he pulled himself upright upon his good leg. Then, with +pain-hurried, jerky movements, he pulled off the saddle, glanced around +him, and flung it behind a buck-brush. He slipped off the bridle, +flung that after the saddle, and gave Rattler a slap on the rump. The +horse moved away, and Ward stared after him with set lips. "Anyway, +you can look after yourself," he said and balanced upon his right leg +while he swung around and faced the cabin. It was not far—to a man +with two sound legs. A hundred yards, perhaps. +</P> + +<P> +Ward crawled there on his hands and one knee, dragging the broken leg +after him. It was not a nice experience, but it served one good +purpose: It wiped from his mind all thought of that black past wherein +Buck had figured so shamefully. He had enough to think of with his +present plight, without worrying over the past. +</P> + +<P> +In half an hour or so Ward rested his arms upon his own doorstep and +dropped his perspiring face upon them. He lay there a long while, in a +dead faint. +</P> + +<P> +After awhile he moved, lifted his head, and looked about him dully at +first and then with a certain stoical acceptance of his plight. He +looked into the immediate future and tried to forecast its demands upon +his strength and to prepare for them. He crawled farther up on the +step, reached the latch, and opened the door. He crawled in, pulled +himself up by the foot of his bunk, and sat down weakly with his head +in his hands. Like a hurt animal, he had obeyed his instinct and had +crawled home. What next? +</P> + +<P> +If Ward had been a weaker man, he would have answered that question +speedily with his gun. He did think of it contemptuously as an easy +way out. If he had never met Billy Louise, he might possibly have +chosen that way. But Ward had changed much in the past two years, and +at the worst he had never been a coward. His hurt was sending waves of +nausea over him, so that he could not concentrate his mind upon +anything. Then he thought of the bottle of whisky he kept in his bunk +for emergencies. Ward was not a man who drank for pleasure, but he had +the Western man's faith in a good jolt of whisky when he felt a cold +coming on or a pain in his stomach—or anything like that. He always +kept a bottle on hand. A quart lasted him a long time. +</P> + +<P> +He felt along the footboard of the bunk till his fingers touched the +bottle, drew it out from its hiding-place—he hid it because stray +callers would have made short work of it—and, placing the uncorked +bottle to his trembling lips, swallowed twice. +</P> + +<P> +He was steadier now, and the sickness left him like fog before a stiff +breeze. His eyes went slowly around the cabin, measuring his +resources, and his needs and limitations. He pulled his one chair +toward him—the chair which Buck Olney had occupied so unwillingly—and +placed his left knee upon it. It hurt terribly, but the whisky had +steadied him so that he could bear the pain. He managed to reach the +cupboard where he kept his dishes, and took down a bottle of liniment +and a box of carbolized vaseline which he happened to have. He was +near the two big, zinc water pails which he had filled that morning +just to show Buck Olney how cool he was over his capture, and he +bethought him that water was going to be precious in the next few weeks. +</P> + +<P> +He lifted down one pail and swung it forward as far as he could, and +set it on the floor ahead of him. Then he swung the other pail beside +it. Painfully he hitched his chair alongside, lifted the pails and set +them forward again. He did that twice and got them beside his bunk. +He went back and inspected the tea-kettle, found it half full, and +carried that also beside the bunk. Then he took another drink of +whisky and rested awhile. +</P> + +<P> +Bandages! Well, there was a new flour-sack hanging on a nail. He +stood up, leaned and got it, and while he was standing, he reached for +the cigar-box where he kept his bachelor sewing outfit; two spools of +very coarse thread, some large-eyed needles to carry it, an assortment +of buttons, and a pair of scissors. He cut the flour-sack into strips +and sewed the strips together; his stitches were neater than you might +think. +</P> + +<P> +When the bandage was long enough, he rolled it as he had seen doctors +do, and fished some pins out of the cigar-box and laid them where he +could get his fingers on them quickly. He stood up again, reached +across to a box of canned milk, and pried off the lid. "I'm liable to +need you, too," he muttered to the rows of cans, and pulled the box +close. He took Buck Olney's knife and whittled some very creditable +splints from the thin boards, and rummaged in his "warbag" under the +bunk for handkerchiefs with which to wrap the splints. +</P> + +<P> +When he had done all that he could do to prepare for the long siege of +pain and helplessness ahead of him, he moved along the bunk until he +was sitting near the head of it with his broken leg extended before +him, and took a last look to make sure that everything was ready. He +felt his gun at his hip, removed belt and all, and threw it back upon +the bed. Then he turned his head and stared, frowning, at the black +butt where it protruded from the holster suggestively ready to his +hand. He reached out and took the gun, turned it over, and hesitated. +No telling what insane impulse fever might bring upon him—and +still—no telling what Buck Olney might do when he discovered that he +was not in any immediate danger of hanging. +</P> + +<P> +If Buck came back to have it out with him, he would certainly need that +gun. He knew Buck, a broken leg wouldn't save him. On the other hand, +if the fever of his hurt hit him hard enough— "Oh, fiddlesticks!" he +told himself at last. "If I get crazy enough for that, the gun won't +cut much ice one way or the other. There are other ways of bumping +off—" So he tucked the gun under the mattress at the head of his bed +where he could put his hand upon it if the need came. +</P> + +<P> +Then he removed his boots by the simple method of slitting the legs +with Buck's knife, bared his broken leg in the same manner, swallowed +again from the bottle, braced himself mentally and physically, gritted +his teeth, and went doggedly to work. +</P> + +<P> +A man never knows just how much he can endure or what he can do until +he is making his last stand in the fight for self-preservation. Ward +had no mind to lie there and die of blood-poisoning, for instance, and +broken bones do not set themselves. So, sweating and swearing with the +agony of it, he set his leg and bound the splints in place, and thanked +the Lord it was a straight, clean break and that the flesh was not torn. +</P> + +<P> +Then he dropped back upon the bed and didn't care whether he lived or +not. +</P> + +<P> +Followed days of fever, through which Ward lived crazily and lost count +of the hours as they passed. Days when he needed good nursing, and did +not get so much as a drink of water, except through pain and effort. +Hours when he cursed Buck Olney and thought he had him bound to the +chair in the cabin. Hours when he watched for him, gun in hand, +through the window beside the bunk. +</P> + +<P> +It was while he was staring glassy-eyed through the window that his +attention wandered to the big, white bowl of stewed prunes. They +looked good, with their shiny, succulent plumpness standing up like +little wrinkled islands in the small sea of brown juice. Ward reached +out with his left hand—he was gripping the gun in his right, ready for +Buck when he showed up—and picked a prune out of the dish. It was his +first morsel of food since the morning when he had tried to eat his +breakfast while Buck Olney stared at him with the furtive malevolence +of a trapped animal. That was three days ago. The prune tasted even +better than it looked. Ward picked out another and another. +</P> + +<P> +He forgot his feverish hallucination that Buck Olney was waiting +outside there until he caught Ward off his guard. He lay back on his +pillow, his fingers relaxed upon the gun. He closed his eyes and lay +quiet. Perhaps he slept a little. +</P> + +<P> +When he opened his eyes he was in the dark. The window was a +transparent black square sprinkled with stars. Ward watched them +awhile. He thought of Billy Louise; he would like to know how her +mother was getting along and how much longer they expected to stay in +Boise. He thought of the times she had kissed him—twice, and of her +own accord. She would not have done it, either time, if he had asked +her; he knew her well enough for that. She must be left free to obey +the impulses of that big, brave heart of hers. A girl with a smaller +soul and one less fine would have blushed and simpered and acted the +fool generally at the mere thought of kissing a man of her own accord. +Billy Louise had been tender as Christ Himself, and as sweet and pure. +Was there another girl like her in the world? Ward looked at the stars +and smiled. There was never such another, he told himself. And she +"liked him to pieces"; she had said so. Ward laughed a little in spite +of his throbbing leg. "Some other girl would have said, 'Ward, I +lo-ove you,'" he grinned. "Wilhemina is different." +</P> + +<P> +He lay there looking up at the stars and thinking, thinking. Once his +lips moved. He was saying "Wilhemina-mine" softly to himself. His +eyes, shining in the starlight, were very tender. After a long while +he fell asleep, still thinking of her. A late moon came up and touched +his face and showed it thin and sunken-eyed, yet with the little smile +hidden behind his lips, for he was dreaming of Billy Louise. +</P> + +<P> +Some time after daylight Ward woke and wanted a cigarette, which was a +sign that he was feeling a little more like himself. He was feverish +still, and the beating pain in his leg was maddening. But his brain +was clear of fever-fog. He smoked a little of the cigarette he made +from the supply on the shelf behind the bunk, and after that he looked +about him for something to eat. +</P> + +<P> +He had made a final trip to Hardup two weeks before, and had brought +back supplies for the winter. And because his pay streak of +gravel-bank had yielded a fair harvest, he had not stinted himself on +the things he liked to eat. He lay looking over the piled boxes +against the farther wall, and wondered if he could reach the box of +crackers and drag it up beside the bunk. He was weak, and to move his +leg was agony. Well, there was the dish of prunes on the window-sill. +</P> + +<P> +Ward ate a dozen or so—but he wanted the crackers. He leaned as far +as he could from the bed, and the box was still two feet from his +outstretched fingers. He lay and considered how he might bring the box +within reach. +</P> + +<P> +At the head of the bunk stood the case of peaches and beneath that the +case of canned tomatoes, the two forming a stand for his lantern. He +eyed them thoughtfully, chewing a corner of his underlip. He did not +want peaches or tomatoes just then; he wanted those soda-crackers. +</P> + +<P> +He took Buck Olney's knife—he was finding it a most useful souvenir of +the encounter!—and pried off a board from the peach box. Two nails +stuck out through each end of the board. He leaned again from the bed, +reached out with the board, and caught the nails in a crack on the +upper edge of the cracker-box. He dragged the box toward him until it +caught against a ridge in the rough board floor, when the nails bent +outward and slipped away from the crack. Ward lay back, exhausted with +the effort he had made and tormented with the pain in his leg. +</P> + +<P> +After awhile he took the piece of hoard and managed to slide it under +the box, lifting a corner of it over the ridge. That was hard work, +harder than you would believe unless you tried it yourself after lying +three days fasting, with a broken leg and a fever. He had to rest +again before he took the other end of the board, that had the good +nails, and pulled the box up beside the bunk. +</P> + +<P> +In a few minutes he made another effort and pried part of the cover off +the cracker-box with the knife. Then he pulled out half a dozen +crackers and ate them, drank half a dipper of water, and felt better. +</P> + +<P> +In an hour or so he believed he could stand it to fix up his leg a +little. There was one splint that was poorly wrapped, or something. +It felt as though it were digging slivers into his leg, and he couldn't +stand it any longer. +</P> + +<P> +He pulled himself up until he was sitting with his back against the +wall at the head of his bunk and smoked a cigarette before he went any +farther. Then he unwrapped the bandage carefully, removed the splint +that hurt the worst, and gently massaged the crease in the bruised, +swollen flesh where the narrow board had pressed so cruelly. +</P> + +<P> +The crease itched horribly, and it was too sore to scratch. Ward +cussed it and then got the carbolized vaseline and rubbed that on, +wincing at the pain of his lightest touch. He did not hurry; he had +all the time there was, and it was a relief to get the bandage off his +leg for awhile. You may be sure he was very careful not to move those +broken bones a hair's breadth! +</P> + +<P> +He rubbed on the vaseline, fearing the liniment would blister and +increase his discomfort, and replaced splint and bandage. He was +terribly tired afterwards and lay in a half stupor for a long while. +He realized keenly that he had a tough pull ahead of him, unless +someone chanced to ride that way and so discovered his plight; which +was so unlikely that he did not build any hopes upon it. +</P> + +<P> +He had held himself aloof from the men of the country. He knew the +Seabeck riders by sight; he had talked a little with Floyd Carson two +or three times, and had met Seabeck himself. He knew Charlie Fox in a +purely casual way, as has been related; and Peter Howling Dog the same. +</P> + +<P> +None of these men were likely to ride out of their way to see him. And +now that his mind worked rationally, he had no fear of Buck Olney's +vengeful return. Buck Olney, he guessed shrewdly, was extremely busy +just now, putting as many miles as possible between himself and that +part of Idaho. Unless Billy Louise should come or send for him, he +would in all probability lie alone there until he was able to walk. +Ward did not try to comfort himself with any delusions of hope. +</P> + +<P> +As the days passed, he settled himself grimly to the business of +getting through the ordeal as comfortably as possible. He had food +within his reach, and a scant supply of water. He worked out the +question of diet and of using his resources to the best advantage. He +had nothing else to do, and his alert mind seized upon the situation +and brought it down to a fine system. +</P> + +<P> +For instance, he did not open a can of fruit until the prunes were +gone. Then he emptied a can of tomatoes into the bowl as a safeguard +against ptomaine poisoning from the tin, and set the empty can on the +floor. During the warm part of each day he slid open the window by his +bunk and lay with the fresh air fanning his face and lifting the hair +from his aching temples. +</P> + +<P> +He tried to eat regularly and to make the fruit juice save his water +supply. Sometimes he chewed jerked venison from the bag over his head, +but not very often; the salt in the meat made him drink too much. On +the whole, his diet was healthful and in a measure satisfying. He did +not suffer from the want of any real necessity, at any rate. He smoked +a good many cigarettes, but he was wise enough to leave the bottle of +whisky alone after that first terrible time when it helped him through +a severe ordeal. +</P> + +<P> +He had his few books within reach. He read a good deal, to keep from +thinking too much, and he tried to meet the days with philosophic calm. +He might easily be a great deal worse off than he was, he frequently +reminded himself. For instance, if he had been able to build another +room on to his cabin, his bunk and his food supply would have been so +widely separated as to cause him much hardship. There were, he +admitted to himself, certain advantages in living in one small room. +He could lie in bed and reach nearly everything he really needed. +</P> + +<P> +But he was lonesome. So lonesome that there were times when life +looked absolutely worthless; when the blue devils made him their +plaything, and he saw Billy Louise looking scornfully upon him and +loving some other man better; when he saw his name blackened by the +suspicion that he was a rustler—preying upon his neighbors' cattle; +when he saw Buck Olney laughing in derision of his mercy and fixing +fresh evidence against him to confound him utterly. +</P> + +<P> +He had all those moods, and they left their own lines upon his face. +But he had one thing to hearten him, and that was the steady progress +of his broken leg toward recovery. A long, tedious process it was, of +necessity; but as nearly as he could judge, the bone was knitting +together and would be straight and strong again, if he did not try to +hurry it too much. He tried to keep count of the weeks as they passed. +When the days slid behind him until he feared he could not remember, he +cut a little notch on the window-sill each morning with Buck's knife, +with every seventh day a longer and deeper notch than the others to +mark the weeks. The first three days had been so hazy that he thought +them only two and marked them so; but that put him only one day out of +his reckoning. +</P> + +<P> +He lay there and saw snow slither past his window, driven by a whooping +wind. It worried him to know that his calves were unsheltered and +unfed while his long stack of hay stood untouched—unless the cattle +broke down his fence and reached it. He hoped they would; but he was a +thorough workman, and in his heart he knew that fence would stand. +</P> + +<P> +He saw cold rains and sleet. Then there were days when he shivered +under his blankets and would have given much for a cup of hot coffee; +days when the water froze in the pails beside the bed—what little +water was left—and he chipped off pieces of ice and sucked them to +quench his thirst. Days when the tomatoes and peaches were frozen in +the cans, so that he chewed jerked venison and ate crackers rather than +chill his stomach with the icy stuff. +</P> + +<P> +Day by day the little notches and the longer ones reached farther and +farther along the window-sill, until Ward began to foresee the time +when he must start a new row. Day by day his cheek-bones grew more +clearly defined, his eyes bigger and more wistful. Day by day his +knuckles stood up sharper when he closed his hands, and day by day +Nature worked upon his hurt, knitting the bones together. +</P> + +<P> +But, though he was lean to the point of being skinny, his eyes were +clear, and what little flesh he had was healthy flesh. Though he was +lonesome and hungry for action and for sight of Billy Louise, his mind +had not grown morbid. He learned more of the Bobbie Burns verses, and +he could repeat <I>The Rhyme of the Three Sealers</I> in his sleep, and most +of <I>The Lady of the Lake</I>. He used to lie and sing at the top of his +voice, sometimes: <I>The Chisholm Trail</I>—unexpurgated—and <I>Sam Bass</I> +and that doleful ditty about the <I>Lone Prairie</I>, and quaint old +Scottish songs he had heard his mother sing, long and long ago. His +leg would heal of itself if he let it alone long enough, he reminded +himself often. His mind he must watch carefully, if he would keep it +healthy. He knew that, and each day had its own little battle-ground. +Sometimes he won, and sometimes the fight went against him—as is the +way with the world. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE BRAVE BUCKAROO +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem" ALIGN="right"> +"BOISE, IDAHO, <I>December</I> 23. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"BRAVE BUCKAROO,— +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if you ever in your whole life got a Christmas present? I've +been cultivating the Louise of me, and here are the first fruits of my +endeavor; I guess that's the way they say it. I've spent so much time +sitting by mommie when she's asleep, and I get tired of reading all the +time, so a nurse in this ward—mommie has a room to herself of course, +but not a special nurse, because I can do a lot of the little +things—well, the nurse taught me how to hemstitch. So I got some silk +and made some nice, soft neckerchiefs—one for you and one for me. +</P> + +<P> +"This one I made last. I didn't want your eagle eyes seeing all the +bobbly stitches on the first one. I hope you like it, Ward. Every +stitch stands for a thought of the hills and our good times. I've +brought Minervy back to life, and I try to play my old pretends +sometimes. But they always break up into pieces. I'm not a kid now, +you see. And life is a lot different when you get out into it, isn't +it? +</P> + +<P> +"Mommie doesn't seem to get much better. I'm worried about her. She +seems to have let go, somehow. She never talks about the ranch much, +or even worries about whether Phoebe is keeping the windows washed. +She talks about when she was a little girl, and about when she and +daddy were first married. It gets on my nerves to see how she has +slipped out of every-day life. The nurse says that's common, though, +in sickness. She says I could go home and look after things for a week +or so just as well as not. She says mommie would be all right. But I +hate to leave her. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm awfully homesick for a good old ride on Blue. I miss him +terribly. Have you seen anything of the Cove folks lately? Seems like +I'm clear out of the world. I hate town, anyway, and a hospital is the +limit for dismalness. Even the Louise of me is getting ready to do +something awful if I have to stay much longer. Mommie sleeps most of +the time. I believe they dope her with something. She doesn't have +that awful pain so bad. So I don't have anything to do but sit around +and read and sew and wait for her to wake up and want something. +</P> + +<P> +"Pal, the Billy of me is at the exploding point! I believe I'll wind +up by getting out in the corridor some day and shooting holes in all +the steam radiators! Did you ever live with one, Ward? Nasty, sizzly +things; they drive me wild. I'd give the best cow in the bunch for +just one hour in front of our old stone fireplace and see the sparks go +up the chimney, and hear the coyotes. Honest to goodness, I'd rather +hear a coyote howl than any music on earth—unless maybe it was you +singing a ten-dollar hoss an' a forty-dollar saddle. I'd like to hear +that old trail song once more. I sure would, Ward. I'd like to hear +it, coming down old Wolverine canyon. Oh, I just can't stand it much +longer. I'm liable to wrap mommie in a blanket and crawl out the +window, some night, and hit the trail for home. I believe I could cure +her quicker right on the ranch. I wish I'd never brought her here; I +believe it's just a scheme of the doctors to get money out of us. I +know my poultices did just as much good as their old dope does. +</P> + +<P> +"And this is Christmas, almost. I wonder what you'll be doing. Say, +Ward, if you want to be a perfect jewel of a man, send me some of that +jerky you've got hanging at the head of your bunk. I swiped some, that +last time I was there. It would taste mighty good to me now, after all +these hospital slops. +</P> + +<P> +"And write me a nice, long letter, won't you? That's a good buckaroo. +I've got to stop—mommie is beginning to wake up, and it's time for the +doctor to come in and read the chart and look wise and say: 'Well, how +are we to-day? Pretty bright, eh?' I'd like to kick him clear across +the corridor—that is, the Billy of me would. And believe me, the +Billy of me is sure going to break out, some of these days! +</P> + +<P> +"I hope you like the neckerchief. I want you to wear it; if I come +home and find it hasn't been washed a couple of times, there'll be +something doing! Don't rub soap on it, kid. Make a warm lathery suds +and wash it. And don't wave it by the corners till it dries. Hang it +up somewhere. You'll have my stitches looking worse frazzled than my +temper. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, a merry Christmas, Pal-o'-mine—and here's hoping you and mommie +and I will be eating turkey together at the Wolverine when next +Christmas comes. Nummy-num! Wouldn't that taste good, though? +</P> + +<P> +"Now remember and write a whole tablet full to +</P> +<DIV STYLE="margin-left: 30%"> +"WILLIAM LOUISA,<BR> +"WILHEMINA,<BR> +"BILL-LOO,<BR> +"BILL-THE-CONK,<BR> +"BILLY LOUISE,<BR> +"FLOWER OF THE RANCH-OH."<BR> +</DIV> + +<BR><BR> + +<P> +Phoebe put that letter on the mantel over the fireplace, the day after +Christmas. Frequently she felt its puffy softness and its crackly +crispness and wondered dully what Billy Louise had sent to Ward. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise refrained from expecting any reply until after New Year's. +Then she began to look for a letter, and when the days passed and +brought her no word, her moods changed oftener than the weather. +</P> + +<P> +Ward's literary efforts, along about that time, consisted of cutting +notches in the window-sill beside his bunk. +</P> + +<P> +On the day when the stage-driver gave Billy Louise's letter to Phoebe, +Ward cut a deeper, wider notch, thinking that day was Christmas. Under +the notch he scratched a word with the point of his knife. It had four +letters, and it told eloquently of the state of mind he was in. +</P> + +<P> +It was the day after that when Seabeck and one of his men rode up the +creek and out into the field where Ward's cattle grazed apathetically +on the little grass tufts that stuck up out of the snow. Ward was +reading, and so did not see them until he raised himself up to make a +cigarette and saw them going straight across the coulee by the line +fence to the farther hills. He opened the window and shouted after +them, but the wind was blowing keen from that direction, and they did +not hear him. +</P> + +<P> +Seabeck had been studying brands and counting, and he was telling Floyd +Carson that everything was straight as a string. +</P> + +<P> +"He must be out working this winter. I should think he'd stay home and +feed these calves. The cows are looking pretty thin. I guess he isn't +much of a stock hand; these nesters aren't, as a general thing, and if +it's as Junkins says, and he puts all he makes into this place, he's +likely hard up. Mighty nice little ranch he's got. Well, let's work +over the divide and back that way. I didn't think we'd find anything +here." +</P> + +<P> +They turned and angled up the steep hillside, and Ward watched them +glumly. He thought he knew why they were prowling around the place, +but it seemed to him that they might have stretched their curiosity a +little farther and investigated the cabin. He did not know that the +snow of a week ago was banked over the doorstep with a sharp, crusty +combing at the top, to prove that the door had not been opened for some +time. Nor did he know that the two had ridden past the cabin on the +other side of the creek and had seen how deserted the place looked; had +ridden to the stable, noted there the unmistakable and permanent air of +emptiness, and had gone on. +</P> + +<P> +Floyd Carson alone might have prowled through both buildings, but +Seabeck was a slow-going man of sober justice. He would not invade the +premises of another farther than he thought it necessary. He had heard +whispers that the fellow on Mill Creek might bear investigation, and he +had investigated. There was not a shadow of evidence that the Y6 +cattle had been gotten dishonestly. Therefore, Seabeck rode away and +did not look into the snow-banked cabin, as another man might have +done; and Ward missed his one chance of getting help from the outside. +</P> + +<P> +Of course, he was doing pretty well as it was; but he would have +welcomed the chance to talk to someone. Taciturn as Ward was with men, +he had enough of his own company for once. And he would have asked +them to make him a cup of coffee and warm up the cabin once more. +Little comforts of that sort he missed terribly. If the room had not +been so clammy cold, he could have sat up part of the time, now. As it +was, he stayed in bed to keep warm; and even so he had been compelled +to drag the two wolf-skins off the floor and upon the bed to keep from +shivering through the coldest nights and days. +</P> + +<P> +One day he did crawl out of bed and try to get over to the stove to +start a fire. But he was so weak that he gave it up and crawled back +again, telling himself that it was not worth the effort. +</P> + +<P> +The letter with the silk neckerchief inside gathered dust upon the +mantel, down at the Wolverine. When the postmark was more than two +weeks old, another letter came, and Phoebe laid it on the fat one with +fingers that trembled a little. Phoebe had a letter of her own, that +day. Both were thin, and the addresses were more scrawly than usual. +Phoebe's Indian instinct warned her that something was amiss. +</P> + +<P> +This was Ward's letter: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Oh, God, Ward, mommie's dead. She died last night. I thought she was +asleep till the nurse came in at five o'clock. I'm all alone and I +don't know what to do. I wish you could come, but if you don't get +this right away, I'll see you at the ranch. I'm coming home as soon as +I can. Oh, Ward, I hate life and God and everything. BILLY LOUISE." +</P> + +<P> +"Please Ward, stay at the ranch till I come. I want to see you. I +feel as if you're the only friend I've got left, now mommie's gone. +She looked so peaceful when they took her away—and so strange. I +didn't belong to her any more. I felt as if I didn't know her at +all—and there is such an awful gap in my life—maybe you'll +understand. You always do." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The day that letter was written, Ward drew a plan of the house he meant +to build some day, with a wide porch on the front, where a hammock +would swing comfortably. He figured upon lumber and shingles and rock +foundation, and mortar for a big, deep fireplace. He managed to put in +the whole forenoon planning and making estimates, and he was so +cheerful afterwards that he whistled and sang, and later he tied a +piece of jerky on the end of a string and teased a fat fieldmouse, +whose hunger made him venturesome. Ward would throw the jerky as far +as the string would permit and wait till the mouse came out to nibble +at it; then he would pull the meat closer and closer to the bed and +laugh at the very evident perturbation of the mouse. For the time +being he was a boy indulging his love of teasing something. +</P> + +<P> +And while Ward played with that mouse, Billy Louise was longing for his +comforting presence while she faced alone one of the bitterest things +in life—which is death. He had no presentiment of her need of him, +which was just as well, since he was absolutely powerless to help her. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +"WE BEEN SORRY FOR YOU" +</H4> + +<P> +Billy Louise, having arrived unexpectedly on the stage, pulled off her +fur-lined mittens and put her chilled hands before the snapping blaze +in the fireplace. Her eyes were tired and sunken, and her mouth +drooped pitifully at the corners, but aside from that she did not seem +much changed from the girl who had left the ranch two months and more +before. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take a cup of tea, Phoebe, but I'm not a bit hungry," she said. +"I ate just before I left town. How have you been, Phoebe?" +</P> + +<P> +"We been fine. We been so sorry for you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind that now, Phoebe. I'd rather not talk about it. +Has—anybody been here lately?" +</P> + +<P> +"Charlie Fox, he come las' week—mebby week before las'. Marthy, she +got rheumatis in her knee. Charlie, he say she been pretty bad one +night. I guess she's better now. I tol' I wash for her if he brings +me clo'es, but he says he wash them clo'es hisself. I guess Charlie +pretty good to that old lady. He's awful p'lite, that feller is." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, he is. I'll go up and see her when I get rested a little. I +feel tired to death, somehow; maybe it's the drive. The road is +terribly rough, and it was awful tiresome on the train. Has—Ward been +around lately?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ward, he ain't been here for long time. I guess mebbe it's been six +weeks I ain't seen him. Las' time he was here he wrote that letter. +He ain't come no more. You let me drag this couch up to the fire, and +you lay down and rest yo'self. I'll put on more wood. Seems like this +is awful cold winter. We had six little pigs come, and four of 'em +froze. John, he brung 'em in by the fire, but it's no good; they die, +anyway." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise dropped apathetically upon the couch after Phoebe had +helped her pull off her coat. She did not feel as though anything +mattered much, but she must go on with life, no matter how purposeless +it seemed. To live awhile and work and struggle and know the pain of +disappointment and weariness, and then to die: she did not see what use +there was in struggling. But one had to go on just the same. She had +borrowed money for mommie's sickness, and she would have to repay it; +and it was all so purposeless! +</P> + +<P> +"How are the cattle wintering?" She forced herself to make some show +of interest in things. +</P> + +<P> +"The cattle, they're doing all right. One heifer, she got blackleg and +die, but the rest they're all right. John, he couldn't find all; two +or three, they're gone. He says mebby them rustlers got 'em. He +looked good as he could." +</P> + +<P> +"Are—has there been any more trouble about losing stock?" Billy +Louise shut her hand into a fist, but she spoke in the same tired tone +as before. +</P> + +<P> +"I dunno. Seabeck, he told John they don't catch nobody yet. That +inspector, he come by long time ago. I guess he stopped with Seabeck. +He ain't come back yet. I dunno where he's gone. Seabeck, he didn't +say nothing to John about him, I guess. Maybe he went out the other +way." +</P> + +<P> +"I—did you do what I told you, Phoebe, about—mommie's things?" +</P> + +<P> +For once Phoebe did not answer garrulously. "Yes, I done it," she said +softly. "The boxes is in the shed when you want 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"All right, Phoebe. Is the tea ready?" +</P> + +<P> +While she sipped creamy tea from a solid-silver teaspoon which had been +a part of mommie's wedding-set, Billy Louise looked around the familiar +room for which she had hungered so in those deadly, monotonous weeks at +the hospital. The fire snapped in its stone recess, and the cheerful +warmth of it comforted her body and in a measure soothed her spirit. +She was chilled to the bones with facing that bitter east wind for +hours, and she had not seen a fireplace in all the time she had been +away. +</P> + +<P> +But the place was empty, with no mommie fussing about, worrying over +little things, gently garrulous. If mommie had come back well, she +would have asked Phoebe about everything in the house and out of it. +There would have been a housewifely accounting going on at this minute. +Phoebe would be apologetic over those grimy windows, instead of merely +sympathetic over the sorrow in the house. Billy Louise wondered +wherein she lacked. For the life of her she could not feel that it +mattered whether the windows were clean or dirty; life was drab and +cheerless outside them, anyway. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise in the last few months had tried to picture herself alone, +with mommie gone. Her imagination was too alive and saw too clearly +the possibilities for her never to have dwelt upon this very crisis in +her life. But whenever she had tried to think what it would be like, +she had always pictured Ward beside her, shielding her from dreary +details and lightening her burden with his whimsical gentleness. She +had felt sure that Ward would ride down every week for news of her, and +she had expected to find him there waiting for her, after that last +letter. Whatever could be the matter? Had he left the country? +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise's faith had compromised definitely with her doubts of him. +Guilty or innocent, she would be his friend always; that was the +condition her faith had laid down challengingly before her doubts. But +unless he were innocent and proved it to her, she would never marry +him, no matter how much she loved him. That was the concession her +faith had made to her doubts. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise had a wise little brain, for all she idealized life and +her surroundings out of all proportion to reality. She told herself +that if she married Ward with her doubts alive, her misery would be far +greater than if she gave him up, except as a friend. Of course, her +ideals stepped in there with an impracticable compromise. She brought +back the Ward Warren of her "pretend" life. She dreamed of him as a +mutely adoring friend who stood and worshiped her from afar, and +because of his sins could not cross the line of friendship. +</P> + +<P> +If he were a rustler, she would shield him and save him, if that were +possible. He would love her always—Billy Louise could not conceive of +Ward transferring his affections to another less exacting woman—and he +would be grateful for her friendship. She could build long, lovely +scenes where friendliness was put to the front bravely, while love hid +behind the mask and only peeped out through the eyes now and then. She +did not, of course, plan all this in sober reason; she just dreamed it +with her eyes open. +</P> + +<P> +It had been in such a spirit that she had written to Ward; though he +would undoubtedly have read love into the lines and so have been +encouraged in the planning of that house with the wide porch in front! +She had dreamed all the way home of seeing Ward at the end of the +journey. Perhaps he would come out and help her down from the stage, +when it stopped at the gate, and call her Bill-Loo—never once had Ward +spoken her name as others spoke it, but always with a twist of his own +which made it different, stamped with his own individuality—and he +would walk beside her to the house and comfort her with his eyes, and +never mention mommie till she herself opened the way to her grief. +Then he would call her Wilhemina-mine in that kissing way he had— +</P> + +<P> +Someone came upon the doorstep and stood there for a moment, stamping +snow off his feet. Billy Louise caught her breath and waited, her eyes +veiled with her lashes and shining expectantly. A little color came +into her cheeks. Ward had been delayed somehow, but he was coming now +because she needed him and he wanted her— +</P> + +<P> +It was only John Pringle, heavy-bodied, heavy-minded, who came in and +squeaked the door shut behind him. Billy Louise gave him a glance and +dropped her head back on the red cushion. "Hello, John!" she greeted +tonelessly. +</P> + +<P> +John grinned, embarrassed between his pleasure at seeing Billy Louise +and his pity for her trouble. His white teeth showed a little under +his scraggy, breath-frosted mustache. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello! You got back, hey? She's purty cold again. Seems like it's +goin' storm some more." He pulled off his mittens and tugged at the +ice dangling at the corners of his lips. "You come on stage, hey? I +bet you freeze." He went over and stood with his back to the fire, his +leathery brown hands clasped behind him, his face still undecided as to +the most suitable emotion to reveal. "Well, how you like town, hey? +No good, I guess. You got plenty trouble now. Phoebe and me, we stick +by you long as you want us to." +</P> + +<P> +"I know you will, John." Billy Louise bit her lips against a sudden +impulse to tears. It was not Ward, but the crude sympathy of this old +halfbreed was more to her than all the expensive flowers that had been +stacked upon mommie's coffin. She had felt terribly alone in Boise. +But her chilled soul was beginning to feel the warmth of friendship in +these two half-savage servants. Even without Ward, her home-coming was +not absolutely cheerless, after all. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we make out to keep things going," John announced pridefully. +"We got leetle bad luck, not much. One heifer, she die—blackleg. +Four pigs, they froze—leetle fellers. I save the rest, all right. +Ole Mooley, she goin' have a calf purty queeck now. I got her in +leetle shed by hog-pen. Looks like it storm, all right." +</P> + +<P> +"Felt like it, too." Billy Louise made an effort to get back into the +old channels of thought. "We'll milk old Mooley, John; I feel as if I +could live on cream and milk for the next five years. You ought to see +the watery stuff they call milk in Boise! Star must be pretty near dry +now, isn't she?" +</P> + +<P> +"Purty near." John's voice was beginning to ooze the comfort that +warmth was giving his big body. "She give two quart, mebby. Spot, she +give leetle more. I got that white hog fat. I kill him any time now +you say." +</P> + +<P> +"If it doesn't storm, you might kill him to-morrow or next day, John. +I'll take a roast up to Marthy when I go. I'll go in a day or two." +She glanced toward the kitchen end of the long room. Phoebe was busy +in the pantry with the door shut. "Have you seen or heard anything of +Ward lately?" she asked carelessly. +</P> + +<P> +"No. I ain't seen Ward for long time. I thought mebbe he be down long +time ago. He ain't come." John shifted a little farther from the +blaze and stood teetering comfortably upon the balls of his feet, like +a bear. "Mebbe he's gone out other way to work." +</P> + +<P> +"Did he say anything?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, he don't say nothin' las' time he come. That's—" John rolled his +black eyes seekingly at the farther wall while he counted mentally the +weeks. "I guess that mus' be fo' or five weeks now. Charlie Fox, he +come las' week." +</P> + +<P> +"John, you better kill a chicken for Billy Louise. I bet she ain't had +no chicken since she's gone." Phoebe came from the pantry with her +hands all flour. "You go now. That young speckled rooster be good, +mebby. He's fat. He's fightin' all the chickens, anyway." +</P> + +<P> +"All right. I kill him." John answered with remarkable docility. +Usually he growled at poor Phoebe and objected to everything she +suggested. +</P> + +<P> +His ready compliance touched Billy Louise more than anything since her +return. She felt anew the warm comfort of their sympathy. If only +Ward had been there also! She got up from the couch and went to the +window where she could look across at the bleak hilltop. She stood +there for some minutes looking out wistfully, hoping that she would see +him ride into view at the top of the steep trail. After awhile she +went back and curled up on the wide old couch and stared abstractedly +into the fire. +</P> + +<P> +John had gone out after the young speckled rooster that fought the +other chickens and must now do his part toward salving the hurt and +cheering the home-coming of Billy Louise. John returned, mumbled with +Phoebe at the far end of the room, and went out again. Phoebe worked +silently and briskly, rattling pans now and then and lifting the stove +lids to put in more wood. Billy Louise heard the sounds but dimly. +The fire was filled with pictures; her thoughts were wandering here and +there, bridging the gap between the past and the misty future. After +awhile the savory odor of the young speckled rooster, that had fought +all the other chickens but was now stewing in a mottled blue-and-white +granite pan, smote her nostrils and won her thoughts from dreaming. +She sat up and pushed back her hair like one just waking from sleep. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll set the table, Phoebe, when you're ready," she said, and her +voice sounded less strained and tired. "That chicken sure does smell +good!" She rose and busied herself about the room, setting things in +order upon the reading-table and the shelves. Phoebe was good as gold, +but her housekeeping was a trifle sketchy. +</P> + +<P> +"Ward, he borried some books las' time," Phoebe remarked, lifting the +lid of the stew kettle and letting out a cloud of delicious-smelling +steam. "I dunno what they was. He said he'd bring 'em back nex' time +he come." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, all right," said Billy Louise, and smiled a little. Even so +slight a thing as borrowed books made another link between them. For a +girl who means to be a mere friend to a man, Billy Louise harbored some +rather dangerous emotions. +</P> + +<P> +She picked up the two letters she had written Ward, brushed off the +dust, and eyed them hesitatingly. It certainly was queer that Ward had +not ridden down for some word from her. She hesitated, then threw the +thin letter into the fire. Its message was no longer of urgent, +poignant need. Billy Louise drew a long breath when the grief-laden +lines crumbled quickly and went flying up the wide throat of the +chimney. The other letter she pinched between her thumbs and fingers. +She smiled a little to herself. Ward would like to get that. She had +a swift vision of him standing over there by the window and reading it +with those swift, shuttling glances, holding the handkerchief squeezed +up in his hand the while. She remembered how she had begun it—"Brave +Buckaroo"—and her cheeks turned pink. He should have it when he came. +Something had kept him away. He would come just as soon as he could. +She laid the letter back upon the mantel and set a china cow on it to +keep it safe there. Then she turned brightly and began to set the +table for Phoebe and John and herself, and came near setting a fourth +place for Ward, she was so sure he would come as soon as he could. +Mommie used to say that if you set a place for a person, that person +would come and eat with you, in spirit if not in reality. +</P> + +<P> +Phoebe glanced at her pityingly when she saw her hesitating, with the +fourth plate in her hands. Phoebe thought that Billy Louise had +unconsciously brought it for mommie. Phoebe did not know that love is +stronger even than grief; for at that moment Billy Louise was not +thinking of mommie at all. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +SEVEN LEAN KINE +</H4> + +<P> +"And you looked good, all up above here?" Billy Louise held Blue +firmly to a curved-neck, circling stand, while she had a last word with +John before she went off on one of her long rides. +</P> + +<P> +"All up in the hills, and round over by Cedar Creek, and all over." +John's mittened gesture was even more sweeping than his statement. "I +guess mebby them rustlers git 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm going up to the Cove. I may not be back before dark, so +don't worry if I'm late. Maybe I'll look along the river. I know one +place where I believe cattle can get down to the bottom, if they're +crazy enough to try it. You didn't look there, did you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I never looked down there. I know they can't git down nohow." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, all right; maybe they can't." Billy Louise slackened the reins, +and Blue went off with short, stiff-legged jumps. It had been a long +time since he had felt the weight of his lady, and his mood now was +exuberant, especially so, since the morning was clear, with a nip of +frost to tingle the skin and the glow of the sun to promise falsely the +nearness of spring. The hill trail steadied him a little, though he +went up the steepest pitch with rabbit-jumps and teetered on his toes +the rest of the way. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise laughed a little, leaned, and grabbed a handful of slatey +mane. "Oh, you Blue-dog!" she said, for that was his full name. "Life +is livable, after all, as long as a fellow has got you and can ride. +You good-for-nothing old ten-dollar hoss! I—wonder would it be wicked +to sing? What do you think, Blue? You'd sing, I know, at the top of +your voice, if you could. Say, Blue! Don't you wish, you were a +donkey, so you could stick out your neck and go <I>Yee-ee</I>-haw! +<I>Yee-ee</I>—haw? Try it once. I believe you could. It's that or a run, +one or the other. You'll bust, if you don't do something. I know you!" +</P> + +<P> +At last on the high level, seeing Blue could not bray his joy to the +world, Billy Louise let him go. She needed some outlet, herself, after +those horrible, dull weeks weighted with tragedy. She had been raised +on horseback, almost; and for two terrible months she had not been in +the saddle. And there is nothing like the air of the Idaho hills to +stir one's blood and send it singing. +</P> + +<P> +Through the sagebrush and rocks, weaving in and out, slacking speed a +little while he went down into deep gullies, thundering up the other +side, and racing away over the level again, went Blue. And with him, +laughing, tingling with new life, growing pinker-cheeked every minute, +went Billy Louise. Her mother's death did not oppress her then. She +thought of her as she raced, but she thought of her with a little, +tender smile. Her mother was resting peacefully, and there was no more +pain or worry for the little, pale, frail woman who had lived her life +and gone her way. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear old mommie!" said Billy Louise under her breath. "Your kid is +almost as happy as you are, right now. Don't be shocked, there's a +dear, or think I'm going to break my neck. Blue and I have just simply +got to work off steam. You, Blue!" She leaned another inch forward. +</P> + +<P> +Blue threw up his head, lifted his heels, and ran like a scared +jackrabbit over the uneven ground. They were not keeping to the trail +at all; trails were too tame for them in that mood. They ran along the +rim-rock at the last, where Billy Louise could glance down, now and +then, at the river sliding like a bright-blue ribbon with icy edges +through the gray, snow-spotted hills. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold on, Blue!" Billy Louise pulled up on the reins. "Quit it, you +old devil! A mile ought to be enough for once, I should think. +There's cattle down there in that bottom, sure as you live. And we, my +dear sir, are going down there and take a look at them." She managed +to pull Blue down to stiff-legged jumps and then to a walk. Finally +she stopped him, so that she could the better take in her surroundings +and the possibilities of getting down. +</P> + +<P> +In the country it is as in the cities. One forms habits of journeying. +One becomes perfectly familiar with every hill and every little hollow +in certain directions, while some other, closer part remains +practically unexplored. Billy Louise had always loved the Wolverine +canyon, and its brother, Jones canyon, which branched off from the +first. As a child she had explored every foot of both, and had ridden +the hills beyond. As a young woman she had kept to the old playground. +Her cattle ranged at the head of the canyons. +</P> + +<P> +The river bottoms came as near being unknown territory as she could +have found within forty miles of her home. For one thing, the river +bottom was narrow, except where was the Cove, and pinched in places +till there seemed no way of passing from one to another. Little +pockets there were, tucked away under the rocky bluff with its collar +of "rim-rock" above. One might climb down afoot, but Billy Louise was +true to her range breeding; she never went anywhere afoot if she could +possibly get there on a horse. And down there by the river she never +had happened to find it necessary to go, either afoot or a-horseback. +Still, if cattle could get down there— +</P> + +<P> +"I guess we'll have to ride back a way," she said, after a brief +inspection, during which Blue stood so close to the rim that Billy +Louise must have had a clear head to feel no tremor of nerves or +dizziness. +</P> + +<P> +She turned and rode slowly back along the edge, looking for the place +where she believed cattle could get down if they were crazy enough to +try. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't look very encouraging, does it, Blue?" Billy Louise stared +doubtfully at the place, leaning and peering over the rim. "What d'ye +think? Reckon we can make it?" +</P> + +<P> +Blue had caught sight of the moving specks far down next the river and +up the stream half a mile or more. He was a cow-horse to the bone. He +knew those far-off specks for cattle, and he knew that his lady would +like a closer look at them. That's what cattle were made for: to haze +out of brush and rocks and gullies and drive somewhere. So far as Blue +knew, cattle were a game. You hunted them out of ungodly places, and +the game was to make them go somewhere else against their wishes. He +prided himself on being able to play that game, no matter what were the +odds against him. +</P> + +<P> +Now he tilted his head a little and looked down at the bluff beneath +him. The game was beginning. He must get down that bluff and overtake +those specks and drive them somewhere. He glanced up and down the +bluff to see if a better trail offered. Billy Louise laughed +understandingly. +</P> + +<P> +"It's this or nothing, Blue. Looks pretty fierce, all right, doesn't +it? Of course, if you're going to make a perfect lady get off and +walk—" +</P> + +<P> +Blue snuffed at the ledge with his neck craned. The rim-rock had +crumbled and sunk low into the bluff, like a too rich pie-crust when +the oven is not quite hot enough. From a ten- or fifteen-foot wall it +shrunk here to a three-foot ledge. And below the rocks and bowlders +were not actually piled on top of one another; there were clear spaces +where a wary, wise, old cow-horse might possibly pick his way. +</P> + +<P> +Blue chose his trail and crumpled at the knees with his hoofs on the +very edge of the ledge; went down with a cat-jump and landed with all +four feet planted close together. He had no mind to go on sliding in +spite of himself, and the bluff was certainly steep enough to excuse a +bungle. +</P> + +<P> +"So far so good." Billy Louise glanced ruefully back at the ledge. +"We're down; but how the deuce do you reckon we'll get up again?" +</P> + +<P> +Blue was not worrying about that part. He went on, picking his way +carefully among the bowlders, with his nose close to earth, setting his +hindlegs stiffly and tobogganing down loose, shale slopes. Billy +Louise sat easily in the saddle and enjoyed it all. She was making up +in big doses for the drab dullness of those hospital weeks. She ought +to walk down the bluff, for this was dangerous play; but she craved +danger as an antidote to that shut-in life of petty rules and +regulations. +</P> + +<P> +It was with a distinct air of triumph that Blue reached the bottom, +even though he slid the last forty feet on his haunches and landed +belly-deep in a soft snow-bank. It was with triumph to match his perky +ears that Billy Louise leaned and slapped him on the neck. "We made +it!" she cried, "and I didn't have to walk a step, did I, Blue? You're +there with the goods, all right!" +</P> + +<P> +Blue scrambled out of the bank to firm footing on the ripened grass of +the bottom, and with a toss of his head set off in a swinging lope, +swerving now and then to avoid a badger hole or a half-sunken rock. +They had done something new, those two; they had reached a place where +neither had ever been before, and Blue acted as if he knew it and +gloried in the escapade quite as much as did his lady. +</P> + +<P> +The cattle spied them and went trotting away up the river, and Blue +quickened his stride a little and followed after. Billy Louise left +the reins loose upon his neck. Blue could handle cattle alone quite as +skillfully as with a rider, if he chose. +</P> + +<P> +The cattle dodged into a fringe of bushes close to the river and +disappeared, which was queer, since the bluff curved in close to the +bank at that point. Blue pricked up his ears and went clattering +after, slowed a little at the willow-fringe, stuck his nose straight +out before him, and went in confidently. The cattle were just ahead. +He could smell them, and his listening ears caught their heavy +breathing. It was very rocky there in the willows, and he must pick +his way with much care. But when he crashed through on the far side, +and Billy Louise straightened from leaning low along his neck to avoid +the stinging branches, the cattle gave a snort and went lumbering away, +still following the river. +</P> + +<P> +This was another small, grassy bottom. Blue went galloping after them, +indignant that they should even attempt to elude him. They were making +for the head of that pocket, and Billy Louise twitched the reins +suggestively. Blue obeyed the hint, which proved that the human brain +is greater in strategy than is brute instinct, and raced in an angle +from the fleeing cattle. Billy Louise leaned and called to him sharply +for more speed; called for it and got it. They jumped a washout that +the cattle went into and out of with great lunges, farther down toward +its mouth. They gained a little there, and by a burst of hard running +they gained more on the level beyond. +</P> + +<P> +The cattle began to swerve away from them, closer to the river. Blue +pulled ahead a little, swerving also, and as Billy Louise tightened the +reins, he slowed and circled them craftily until they huddled on the +steep bank, uncertain which way to go. Billy Louise pulled Blue down +to a walk as she drew near and eyed the cattle sharply. They did not +look like any of hers, after all. There were five dry cows and two +steers. +</P> + +<P> +One of the steers stood broadside to Billy Louise. The brand stared +out from his dingy red side, the most conspicuous thing about him. +Billy Louise caught her breath. There was no faintest line that failed +to drive its message into her range-trained brain. She stared and +stared. Blue looked around at her inquiringly, reproachfully. Billy +Louise sent him slowly forward and stirred up the huddled little bunch. +She read the brand on each one; read the story they shouted at her, of +bungling theft. She could not believe it. Yet she did believe it, and +she went hot with anger and disappointment and contempt. She sat and +thought for a minute or two, scowling at the cattle, while she decided +what to do. +</P> + +<P> +Finally she swung Blue on the down-stream side and shouted the range +cattle-cry. The animals turned awkwardly and went upstream, as they +had been going before Billy Louise stopped them. Blue followed +watchfully after, content with the game he was playing. Where the +bluffs drew close again to the river, the cattle climbed to a narrow, +shelving trail through the rocks and went on in single file, picking +their way carefully along the bluff. Below them it fell sheer to the +river; above them it rose steeply, a blackened jumble, save where the +snow of the last storm lay drifted. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise had never known there was a trail up this gorge. She eyed +it critically and saw where bowlders had been moved here and there to +make its passage possible. Her lips were set close together and they +still bore the imprint of her contempt. +</P> + +<P> +She thought of Ward. Mentally she abased herself before him because of +her doubts. How had she dared think him a thief? Her brave buckaroo! +And she had dared think he would steal cattle! Her very remorse was a +whip to lash her anger against the guilty. She hurried the cattle +along the dangerous trail, impatient of their cautious pace. +</P> + +<P> +When finally they clattered down to the level again, it was to plunge +into willow thickets whose branches reached out to sweep her from the +saddle. Blue went carefully, stopping now and then at a word from his +lady, to wait while she put a larger, more stubborn branch out of her +way. She could not see just where she was going, but she knew that she +was close upon the cattle, and that they seemed familiar with the +trail. Now and then she caught sight of a rough-haired rump and +switching tail in the thicket before her. Then the whip-like branches +would swing close, and she could see nothing but their gray tangle +reaching high above her head. She could hear the crackling progress of +the cattle close ahead, and the gurgling clamor of the river farther +away to her right. But she could not see the bluff for the +close-standing willows, and she did not know whether it was near or far +to its encircling wall. +</P> + +<P> +Then, just as she was beginning to think the willows would never end, +she came quite suddenly out into the open, and Blue lifted himself and +jumped a dry ditch. The cattle were before her, shambling along the +fenced border of a meadow. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE BILLY OF HER +</H4> + +<P> +Since she had closed up on the cattle and had read on their sides the +shameful story of theft, Billy Louise had known that she would +eventually come out at the lower end of the Cove; and that in spite of +the fact that the Cove was not supposed to have any egress save through +the gorge. What surprised her was the short distance; she had not +realized that the bluff and the upland formed a wide curve, and that +she had cut the distance almost in half by riding next the river. +</P> + +<P> +She seemed in no doubt as to what she would do when she arrived. Billy +Louise was not much given to indecision at any time. She drove the +cattle into the corral farthest from the house, rode on to the stable, +and stopped Blue with his nose against the fence there and with his +reins dragging. Then, tight-lipped still, she walked determinedly +along the path to the gate that led through the berry-jungle to the +cabin. +</P> + +<P> +She opened the gate and stepped through, closing it after her. She had +not gone twenty feet when there was a rush from the nearest thicket, +and Surbus, his hair ruffed out along his neck, growled and made a leap +at her with bared fangs. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise had forgotten about Surbus. She jumped back, startled, +and the dog missed landing. When he sprang again he met a thirty-eight +calibre bullet from Billy Louise's gun and dropped back. It had been a +snap shot, without any particular aiming; Billy Louise retreated a few +steps farther, watching the dog suspiciously. He gathered himself +slowly and prepared to spring at her again. This time Billy Louise, +being on the watch for such a move, aimed carefully before she fired. +Surbus dropped again, limply—a good dog forever more. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise heard a shrill whistle and the sound of feet running. She +waited, gun in hand, ready for whatever might come. +</P> + +<P> +"Hey! Charlie! Somebody's come; the bell, she don't reeng." Peter +Howling Dog, a pistol in his hand, came running down the path from the +cabin. He saw Billy Louise and stopped abruptly, his mouth half open. +</P> + +<P> +From a shed near the stable came Charlie, also running. Billy Louise +waited beside the gate. He did not see her until he was close, for a +tangled gooseberry bush stood between them. +</P> + +<P> +"What was it, Peter? Somebody in the Cove? Or was it you—" +</P> + +<P> +"No, it wasn't Peter; it was me." Billy Louise informed him calmly and +ungrammatically. "I shot Surbus, that's all." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Why, Miss Louise, you nearly gave me heart failure! How are you? +I thought—" +</P> + +<P> +"You thought somebody had gotten into the Cove without your knowing it. +Well, someone did. I rode up from below, along the river." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh—er—did you? Pretty rough going, wasn't it? I didn't think it +could be done. Come in; Aunt Martha will be—" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think she'll be overjoyed to see me." Billy Louise stood +still beside the gooseberry bush, and she had forgotten to put away her +gun. "I drove up those cattle you had down below. You're awfully +careless, Charlie! I should think Peter or Marthy would have told you +better. When a man steals cattle by working over the brands, it's very +bad form to keep them right on his ranch in plain sight. It—isn't +done by the best people, you know." Her voice stung with the contempt +she managed to put into it. And though she smiled, it was such a smile +as one seldom saw upon the face of Billy Louise. +</P> + +<P> +"What's all this? Worked brands! Why, Miss Louise, I—I wouldn't know +how to—" +</P> + +<P> +"I know. You did an awful punk job. A person could tell in the dark +it was the work of a greenhorn. Why didn't you let Peter do it, or +Marthy? You could have done a better job than that, couldn't you, +Marthy?" +</P> + +<P> +Poor old Marthy, with her rheumatic knees and a gray hardness in her +leathery face, had come down the path and stood squarely before Billy +Louise, her hands knuckling her flabby hips, her hair blowing in gray, +straggling wisps about her bullet head. +</P> + +<P> +"Better than what? Come in, Billy Louise. I'm right glad to see ye +back and lookin' so well, even if yuh do 'pear to be in one of your +tantrums. How's yer maw?" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise gasped and went white. "Mommie's dead," she said. "She +died the ninth." She drew another gasping breath, pulled herself +together, and went on before the others could begin the set speeches of +sympathy which the announcement seemed to demand. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind about that, now. I'm talking about those Seabeck cattle +you folks stole. I was telling Charlie how horribly careless he is, +Marthy. Did you know he let them drift down the river? And a blind +man could tell a mile off the brands have been worked!" Billy Louise's +tone was positively venomous in its contempt. "Why didn't you make +Charlie practise on a cowhide for awhile first?" she asked Marthy +cuttingly. +</P> + +<P> +Marthy ignored the sarcasm. Perhaps it did not penetrate her stolid +mind at all. "Charlie never worked any brands, Billy Louise," she +stated with her glum directness. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I beg his pardon, I'm sure! Did you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I never done such a thing, neither. I don't know what you're +talkin' about." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, who did, then?" Billy Louise faced the old woman pitilessly. +</P> + +<P> +"I d'no." Marthy lifted her hand and made a futile effort to tuck in a +few of the longest wisps of hair. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, of all the—" The stern gray eyes of Billy Louise flew wide +open at the effrontery of the words. If they expected her to believe +that! +</P> + +<P> +"That's it, Miss Louise. That's the point we'd like to settle, +ourselves. I know it sounds outrageous, but it's a fact. Peter and I +found those cattle up in the hills, with our brand worked over the V. +On my word of honor, not one of us knows who did it." +</P> + +<P> +"But you've got them down here—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well—" Charlie threw out a hand helplessly. His eyes met hers with +appealing frankness. "We couldn't rub out the brands; what else could +we do? I figured that somebody else would see them if we left them out +in the hills, and it might be rather hard to convince a man; you see, +we can't even convince you! But, so help me, not one of us branded +those cattle, Miss Louise. I believe that whoever has been rustling +stock around here deliberately tried to fix evidence against us. I'm a +stranger in the country, and I don't know the game very well; I'm an +easy mark!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you're that, all right enough!" Billy Louise spoke with blunt +disfavor, but her contemptuous certainty of his guilt was plainly +wavering. "To go and bring stolen cattle right down here—" +</P> + +<P> +"It seemed to me they'd be safer here than anywhere else," Charlie +observed naïvely. "Nobody ever comes down here, unknown to us. I had +it sized up that the fellow who worked those brands would never dream +we'd bring the stock right into the Cove. Why, Miss Louise, even I +would know better than to put our brand on top of Seabeck's and expect +it to pass inspection. If I wanted to steal cattle, I wouldn't go at +it that way!" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise glanced uncertainly at him and then at Marthy, facing her +grimly. She did not know what to think, and she showed it. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you mean—the real rustlers?" She began hesitatingly; and +hesitation was not by any means a mental habit with Billy Louise. +</P> + +<P> +"I mean just what I said." Charlie's manner was becoming more natural, +more confident. "I've been riding through the hills a good deal, and +I've seen a few things. And I've an idea the fellow got a little +uneasy." He saw her wince a little at the word "fellow," and he went +on, with an impulsive burst of confidence. "Miss Louise, have you +ever, in your riding around up above Jones Canyon, in all those deep +little gulches, have you ever seen anything of a—corral, up there?" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise held herself rigidly from starting at this. She bit her +lips so that it hurt. "Whereabouts is it?" she asked, without looking +at him. And then: "I thought you would go to any length before you +would accuse anybody." +</P> + +<P> +"I would. But when, they deliberately try to hand me the blame—and +I'm not accusing anybody—anybody in particular, am I? The corral is +at the head of a steep little canyon or gulch, back in the hills where +all these bigger canyons head. Some time when you're riding up that +way, you keep an eye out for it. That," he added grimly, "is where +Peter and I ran across these cattle; right near that corral." +</P> + +<P> +The heart of Billy Louise went heavy in her chest. Was it possible? +Doubts are harder to kill than cats or snakes. You think they're done +for, and here they come again, crowding close so that one can see +nothing else. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you any idea at all, who—it is?" She forced the words out of +her dry throat. She lifted her head defiantly and looked at him full, +trying to read the truth from his eyes and his mouth. +</P> + +<P> +Charlie Fox met her look, and in his eyes she read pity—yes, pity for +her. "If I have," he said, with an air of gently deliberate evasion, +"I'll wait till I am dead sure before I name the man. I'm not at all +sure I'd do it even then, Miss Louise; not unless I was forced to do it +in self-defense. That's one reason why I brought the cattle down here. +I didn't want to be placed in a position where I should be compelled to +fight back." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise ran her gloved fingers down the barrel of her gun, and +stuck the weapon back in its holster. "I killed Surbus, Marthy," she +said dully. "I had to. He came at me." +</P> + +<P> +Marthy turned heavily toward the spot which Billy Louise indicated with +her downward glance. She had not seen the dog lying there half hidden +by a berry bush. Marthy gave a grunt of dismay and went over to where +Surbus lay huddled. Her hard old face worked with emotion. +</P> + +<P> +"You shot him, did yuh?" Marthy's voice was harsh with reproach. +"What did he do to yuh, that you had to go t' work and shoot him? He +warn't your dog, he was mine! I must say you're gittin' +high-an'-mighty, Billy Louise, comin' here shootin' my dog and accusin' +Charlie and me to our faces uh bein' thieves. And your maw not cold in +'er grave yit! I must say you're gitting too high-an'-mighty fer old +Marthy. And me payin' fer your schoolin' and never gitting so much as +a thankye fer it, and scrimpin' and savin' to make a lady out of yuh. +And here you come in a tantrum, callin' me a thief right in my face! +You knowed all along who worked them brands. If yuh don't, I kin +mighty quick tell ye—" +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Aunt Martha, never mind scolding Billy Louise; you know you think +as much of her as you do of me, and that's throwing a big bouquet at +myself!" Charlie went up and laid his arm caressingly over the old +woman's shoulder. "You don't want to let this upset you, Aunt Martha. +Surbus was a mean-tempered brute with strangers. You know that. I +don't blame Miss Louise in the least. She was frightened when he came +at her, and she hadn't presence of mind enough to see he was only +bluffing and wouldn't hurt—" +</P> + +<P> +"Bluffing, was he?" Billy Louise roused herself to meet this covert +attack upon her courage. "So are you bluffing. And so is Marthy, when +she says she paid for my—" She stopped, confronting an accusing +memory of mommie's mysterious silence about the school money, and her +own passing curiosity which had never been satisfied. "Even if she +did, I don't know why she need throw it up to me now. I never asked +her for money. Nobody ever did. And that has nothing to do with +Surbus, anyway. He's a nasty, mean brute that ought to have been +killed long ago. I'm not a bit sorry. I'm glad I did kill him." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know yuh be. You're hard as—" +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't talk about hardness, if I were you, Marthy! What are you, +right now—and always? Was I to blame for thinking those cattle had +been stolen? They're in the Cove, with your brand on. And unless you +pay Seabeck for them, you're stealing them if you keep them. It +doesn't matter who put the brand on; you're keeping the cattle. What +do you call that, I'd like to know? They're down here in the big +corral now. If you mean to do what's square, you'll take them up to +Seabeck's and explain—" +</P> + +<P> +"Explain who it was ran our brand on?" Charlie's voice was silk over +iron. "I'm afraid if I were forced into explanations, I'd have to tell +all I know, Miss Louise. Do you advise that—really?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't advise anything." Baffled and angry and hurt to the very soul +of her, Billy Louise opened the gate and went out. "It strikes me you +Cove folks are not wanting advice these days, or needing it. If you +know anything to tell, for heaven's sake don't hold back on my account! +It's nothing to me, one way or the other. I'm no rustler, and no +friend of rustlers, if that's what you're hinting at." She left them +with a proud lift to her chin and a very straight back, went to Blue, +and mounted him mechanically. Billy Louise was "seeing red" just then. +She rode back past the gate, the three were still standing there close +together, talking. Billy Louise swung round in the saddle so that she +faced them. +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't worry, Marthy, about that school-money," she called out +angrily. "I'll take your word for it and pay you back every cent, with +legal rate of interest. And I'm darned glad I did shoot Surbus!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, say, Miss Louise!" Charlie called placatingly. "Please don't go +away feeling—" +</P> + +<P> +"You go to the devil!" Billy Louise flung back at him and touched Blue +with her heel. "I hope that shocked some of the politeness out of him, +anyway," she added grimly to herself. "Oh, I hate everything—Ward and +God and all! I hate life—I hate it!" +</P> + +<P> +She pulled Blue down to a walk and rode slowly for a couple of rods, +fighting against the reaction that crept inexorably over her anger, +chilling it and making it seem weak and unworthy. With a sudden +impulse born of her stern instincts of justice, she jerked Blue around +and galloped back. Charlie had disappeared, and Peter Howling Dog was +walking sullenly toward the corraled cattle. Marthy was going slowly +up the path to the cabin, looking old and bent and broken-spirited +because of her bowed shoulders and stiff, rheumatic gait, but harsh and +unyielding as to her face. Billy Louise stopped by the fence and +called to her. Marthy turned, stared at her sourly, and stood where +she was. +</P> + +<P> +"Wall, what d'yuh want now?" she asked uncompromisingly. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise fought back an answering antagonism. She must be just; +she could not blame Marthy for feeling hard toward her. She had +insulted them horribly and killed Marthy's dog. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to tell you I'm sorry I was so mean, Marthy," she said bravely. +"I haven't any excuse to make for it; only you must see yourself what a +shock it would be to a person to find those cattle down here. But I +know you're honest, and so is Charlie. And I know you'll do what's +right. I'm sorry I told Charlie to go to the devil, and I'm sorry I +shot your dog, Marthy." +</P> + +<P> +Apologies did not come easily to Billy Louise. She wheeled then and +rode away at a furious gallop, before Marthy could do more than open +her grim lips for reply. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +BILLY LOUISE GETS A SURPRISE +</H4> + +<P> +Frightened, worried, sick at heart because her crowding doubts and +suspicions had suddenly developed into black certainty just when she +had thought them dead forever, Billy Louise rode up the narrow, rocky +gorge. She had come to have a vague comprehension of the temptation +Ward must have felt. She had come to accept pityingly the possibility +that the canker of old influences had eaten more deeply than appeared +on the surface. She had set herself stanchly beside him as his friend, +who would help him win back his self-respect. She felt sure that he +must suffer terribly with that keen, analytical mind of his, when he +stopped to think at all. He had no warped ethics wherewith to ease his +conscience. She knew his ideas of right and wrong were as +uncompromising as her own, and if he stole cattle, he did it with his +eyes wide open to the wrong he was doing. And yet— +</P> + +<P> +"That's bad enough, but to try and fasten evidence on someone else!" +Billy Louise gritted her teeth over the treachery of it. She believed +he had done that very thing. How could she help it? She had seen the +corral and had seen Ward ride away from it in the dusk of evening; or +she believed she had seen him, which was the same thing. She knew that +Ward's prosperity was out of proportion with his visible resources. +And she knew what lay behind him. Was his version of the past after +all the correct one? Might not the paragraph she had burned been +nothing more than the truth? +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise fought for him; fought with her stern, youthful judgment +which was so uncompromising. It takes years of close contact with life +to give one a sure understanding of human weakness and human endeavor. +</P> + +<P> +At the ford, when Blue would have crossed and taken the trail home, +Billy Louise reined him impulsively the other way. Until that instant +she had not intended to seek Ward, but once her fingers had twitched +the reins against Blue's neck, she did not hesitate; she did not even +argue with herself. She just glanced up at the sun, saw that it was +not yet noon—so much may happen in two or three hours!—and sent Blue +up the hill at a lope. +</P> + +<P> +She did not know what she would do or what she would say when she saw +Ward. She knew that she was full of bitterness and disappointment and +chagrin. She had accused innocent persons of a crime. Ward had placed +her in that position and compelled her to recant and apologize. She +had offended Marthy beyond forgiveness—and Charlie Fox. Her face +burned with shame when she remembered the things she had said to them. +Ward was the cause of that humiliation; and Ward was going to know +exactly what she thought of him; beyond that she did not go. +</P> + +<P> +The two mares fed dispiritedly at the lowest corner of the field, their +hair rough with exposure to the winter winds and the storms, their ribs +showing. With all the hay he had put up, Ward might at least keep his +horses in better shape, Billy Louise censured, as she passed them by. +A few head of cows and calves wandered aimlessly among the thinnest +fringe of willows along the creek; they showed more ribs than did the +mares. Billy Louise pulled her lips tight. They did not look as +though they had been fed a forkful of hay all winter; your true range +man or woman gets to know these things instinctively. +</P> + +<P> +Farther along, Billy Louise heard a welcoming nicker and turned her +head. Here came Rattler, thin-flanked and rough-coated, trotting down +a shallow gulley to meet Blue. The two horses chummed together +whenever Ward was at the Wolverine. Billy Louise pulled up and waited +till Rattler reached her. He and Blue rubbed noses, and Blue laid back +his ears and shook his head with teeth bared, in playful pretense of +anger. Rattler kicked up his heels in disdain at the threat and +trotted alongside them. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise rode with puckered eyebrows. Ward might neglect his +stock, but he would never neglect Rattler like this. And he must be at +home, since here was his horse. Or else... +</P> + +<P> +She struck Blue suddenly with her rein-ends and went clattering up the +trail where the snow lay in shaded, crusty patches rimmed with dirt. +The trail was untracked save by the loose stock. Where was Ward? What +had happened to him? She looked again at Rattler. There was no sign +of recent saddle-marks along his side, no telltale imprint of the cinch +under his belly. Where was Ward? +</P> + +<P> +Blind, unreasoning terror filled Billy Louise. She struck Blue again +and plunged into the icy creek-crossing near the stable. She stopped +there just long enough to see how empty and desolate it was, and how +the horses and cattle had huddled against its sheltering wall out of +the biting winds; and how the door was shut and fastened so that they +could not get in. She opened it and looked in, and shut it again. +Then she turned and ran, white-faced, to the cabin. Where was Ward? +What had happened to Ward? Thief or honest man, treacherous or +true—what had happened to him? +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise saw the doorstep banked over with old, crusted snow. Her +heart gave a jump and stopped still. She felt her knees shake under +her. Her face seemed to pinch together, the flesh clinging close to +the bones. Her whole being seemed to contract with the deadly fear +that gripped her. It was like that chill morning when she had crept +out of her cot and gone over to mommie's bed and had lifted mommie's +hand that was hanging down.... +</P> + +<P> +She came to herself; she was running up the creek, away from the cabin. +Running and stumbling over rocks, and getting tripped with her +riding-skirt. She stopped, as soon as she realized what she was doing; +she stopped and stood with her hands pressed hard against each side of +her face, forcing herself to calmness again—or at least to sanity. +She had to go back. She told herself so, many times. "You've got to +go back!" she repeated, as if to a second person. "You can't be such a +fool; you've got to go back. And you've got to go inside. You've got +to do it." +</P> + +<P> +So Billy Louise went back to the cabin, slowly, with shaking legs and a +heart that fluttered and stopped, fluttered and jumped and stopped, and +made her stagger as she walked. She reached the doorstep and stood +there with her palms pressing hard against her cheeks again. "You've +got to do it. You've got to!" she whispered to herself commandingly. +</P> + +<P> +She never doubted that Ward was inside. She thought she would find him +dead—dead and horrible, perhaps. No other solution seemed to fit the +circumstances. He was in there, dead. He had been dead for some time, +because there were no saddle-marks on Rattler, and because the snow was +crusted over the doorstep with never a mark to break its smooth +roundness. She had to go in. She was the person who must find him and +do what she could. She must do it, because he was Ward—her Ward. +</P> + +<P> +It took courage to open that door, but Billy Louise had courage enough +to open it, and to step inside and close the door after her. She did +not look at anything in the cabin while she did it, though. She kept +her eyelids down so that she only saw the floor directly in front of +the door. She had a sense of relief that it looked perfectly natural, +though dusty. +</P> + +<P> +"Throw up your hands!" came hoarsely from the bunk. Billy Louise +gasped and pulled her gun, and dropped crouching to the floor. Also +she looked up. She had not recognized that voice, and while she had +never except in imagination faced an emergency like this, she had +played robbers and rescues too often not to have formed a mental habit +to fit the situation. What she did she had done many, many times in +her "pretend" world, sitting somewhere dreaming. +</P> + +<P> +From her crouching position she looked into Ward's fever-wild eyes. He +was sitting up in the bunk, and he was pointing his big forty-five at +her relentlessly. "Get up from there!" he ordered sternly. "Don't try +any game like that on me, Buck Olney! Get up and go over and sit in +that chair. I've got a few things to say to you." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise somehow grasped the truth, up to a certain point. Ward +was sick; so sick he didn't know her. She thought she would better +humor him. She got up and went and sat in the chair as he directed. +</P> + +<P> +Ward, keeping the gun pointing her way, sneered at her in a way that +made the soul of Billy Louise crimple. She faced him big-eyed, too +amazed at the change in him to feel any fear that he would harm her. +He had whiskers two inches long. She wouldn't have known him except +for his hair—and that was terribly tousled; and his eyes, though they +were wild and angry. His voice was hoarse, and while he glared at her, +he coughed with a hard, croupy resonance. +</P> + +<P> +"So you came back, did yuh?" he asked grimly at last. "Well, you +didn't get a chance to plug me in the back. How long did you lay up +there on the bluff this time, waiting to catch me when I wasn't +looking? I've been wishing I'd loft that rope so it would have hung +you, you damned ———!" (Billy Louise listened round-eyed to certain +man-sized epithets strange to her ears.) +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you and Foxy and that halfbreed have been fixing up some +more evidence, huh? You figure that I can't catch 'em this time and +work the brands over, so they'll stand Y6es, and I'll get railroaded to +the pen. Well, you've overplayed your hand, old-timer. I let you +fellows down easy, last time. I don't reckon Foxy objected much to +those few I turned back to him, and I don't reckon you did any kicking +when you found I'd cut the rope so it wouldn't hold your rotten +carcass. You can't let well enough alone, though. You thought you'd +raise me, did you? You thought you'd come back and try another whack +at me behind my back. You knew damned well I wasn't the kind of man +that would jump the country. You knew you'd find me right here, +attending to my business like I've always done. +</P> + +<P> +"But you've overplayed your hand. This time I'm going to get you—and +Foxy and the breed along with you. It was a damned, rotten trick, +running Y6es over Seabeck's brand. If I hadn't caught you in the act, +you'd have planted them cattle where all hell couldn't have saved me +when they were found. If I hadn't caught you at it and run MK +monograms over the whole cheese, I'd have been up against it for fair. +So now you're going to get what's coming to yuh. I won't take any +chances on your not trying it again. I'm going to protect myself right. +</P> + +<P> +"You throw that gun on the bed." (Billy Louise did so, her eyes still +upon Ward's flushed face.) "Now, get down that tablet from the shelf. +Here's a pencil." He drew one from under his pillow and tossed it +toward her. "Now you write the truth about all this rustling. It's a +bigger thing than shows right in this neighborhood. I know that. And +I know too that Foxy has been pulling down some on the side. He never +paid for all the stock that's running around vented and rebranded MK. +I've got that sized up. Pretty smooth trick, too; a heap better than +working brands. He ought to have been satisfied with that—but a crook +never is satisfied. I knew he wasn't the tenderfoot he tried to make +out, and when I saw some of his stock and that gate fixed to ring a +bell when it was opened, I knew he was a crook. But he made a big +mistake when he threw in with you, you— +</P> + +<P> +"I want you to write down the truth about that Hardup deal; who was in +with you. I know, all right, but I want it down on paper. And I want +to know how long Foxy's been in with you, and who's working the game on +the outside. Get busy; write it all down. I'll give you all the time +you need; don't leave out anything. Dates and all, I want the whole +graft. Don't try to get away. I've got this gun loaded to the guards, +and you know I'm aching for an excuse—" He stopped and coughed again, +hoarsely, rackingly. Then he lay quiet, except for his rasping breath +and watched. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise, with the tablet on her trembling knees, pretended to +write. From under her lashes she watched Ward curiously. She saw his +attention waver, saw his eyes wander aimlessly about the room. She sat +very still and waited, making scrawly marks that had no meaning at all. +She saw Ward's fingers loosen on the revolver, saw his head turn +wearily on the pillow. He was staring out through the window at the +brilliant blue of the sky with the dazzling white clouds drifting like +bits of cotton to the northward. He had forgotten her. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE HOOKIN'-COUGH MAN +</H4> + +<P> +Billy Louise waited another minute or two, weighing the possibilities. +She saw Ward's fingers drop away from the gun, but they remained close +enough for a dangerously quick gripping of it again, if the whim seized +him. Still—surely to goodness, Ward would never get crazy enough to +hurt her! Perhaps her feminine assurance of her hold on him, more than +her courage, kept her nerves fairly steady. She bit the pencil +absently, watching him. +</P> + +<P> +Ward turned his head restlessly on the pillow and coughed again. Billy +Louise got up quietly, went close to the bed, and laid her hand on his +forehead. His head was hot, and the veins were swollen and throbbing +on his temples. +</P> + +<P> +"Brave Buckaroo got a headache?" she queried softly, stroking his +temples soothingly. "Got the hookin'-cough, too. Get every measly +thing he can think of. Even got a grouch against the Flower of the +Ranch-oh!" Her voice was crooningly soft and sweet, as if she were +murmuring over a sleepy baby. +</P> + +<P> +Ward closed his eyes, opened them, and looked up into her face. One +hand came up uncertainly and caught her fingers closely. +"Wilhemina-mine!" he said, in his hoarse voice. His eyes cleared to +sanity under her touch. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise drew a small sigh of relief and reached unobtrusively with +her free hand for the gun. She slid it down away from his fingers, and +when he still paid no attention, she picked it up quite openly and laid +it against the footboard. Ward did not say anything. He seemed +altogether occupied with the amazing reality of her presence. He clung +to her fingers and looked at her with that intent stare of his, as if +he were trying to hold her there by the sheer power of his will. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, how am I going to doctor you and feed you and make you all +comfy, with one hand?" asked Billy Louise with quavering flippancy. +</P> + +<P> +"Kiss me!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah—might catch the hookin'-cough," bantered Billy Louise, leaning a +bit closer. +</P> + +<P> +"Kiss me!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well, I s'pose sick folks have to be humored." Billy Louise +leaned closer still. "Mighty few kissy places left," she observed with +the same shaky flippancy, a minute later. "Say, Ward, you look for all +the world like old Sourdough Williams!" Sourdough Williams, it may be +remarked, was a particularly hairy and unkempt individual who lived a +more or less nomadic life in the hills, trapping. +</P> + +<P> +"You look like—" Ward groped foggily for a simile. Angel was +altogether too commonplace. +</P> + +<P> +"Like the lady who's going to get busy right now, making you well. +What have you been doing to yourself? Never mind; I don't want you +talking yourself crazy again. Do you know you tried to shoot me up +when I came in? And you made me start in to write a record of my sins. +But that's all right, seeing you've got the hookin'-cough, I'll forgive +you this once. Lie still—and let go my hand. I want to put a wet +cloth on your head." +</P> + +<P> +"Did I—" +</P> + +<P> +"You did; and then some. Forget it. You've got a terrible cold; and +from the looks of things, you've had it for about six months." Her +eyes went comprehensively about that end of the cabin, with the +depleted cracker-box, the half-emptied boxes of peaches and tomatoes, +and the buckets that were all but empty of water. She was shocked at +the pitiful evidence of long helplessness. She did not quite +understand. Surely Ward's cold had not kept him in bed so long. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, this is no time for mirth or laughter," she said briskly, to +hide how close she was to hysteria, "since it looks very much like 'the +morning after.' First, we've got to tackle that fever of yours." She +picked up a water-pail and started for the door. As she passed the +foot of the bunk, she confiscated the two revolvers and took them +outside with her. She had no desire to be mistaken again for Buck +Olney. +</P> + +<P> +When she came back, Ward's eyes were wild again, and he started up in +bed and glared at her. Billy Louise laughed at him and told him to lie +down like a nice buckaroo, and Ward, recalled to himself by her voice, +obeyed. She got the wash-basin and a towel and prepared to bathe his +head. He wanted a drink. And when she held a cup to his lips and saw +how greedily he drank, a little sob broke unexpectedly from her lips. +She gritted her teeth after it and forced a laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"You're sure a hard drinker," she bantered and wet her handkerchief to +lay on his brow. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the first decent drink I've had for a month," he told her, +dropping back to the pillow, refreshed to the point of clear thinking. +"Old Lady Fortune's still playing football with me, William. I've been +laid up with a broken leg for about six weeks. And when I got gay and +thought I could handle myself again, I put myself out of business for +awhile, and caught this cold before I came to and crawled back into +bed. I'm—sure glad you showed up, old girl. I was—getting up +against it for fair." He coughed. +</P> + +<P> +"Looks like it." Billy Louise held herself rigidly back from any +emotional expression. She could not afford to "go to pieces" now. She +tried to think just what a trained nurse would do, in such a case. Her +hospital experience would be of some use here, she told herself. She +remembered reading somewhere that no experience is valueless, if one +only applies the knowledge gained. +</P> + +<P> +"First," she said cheerfully, "the patient must be kept quiet and +cheerful. So don't go jumping up and down on your broken leg, Ward +Warren; the nurse forbids it. And smile, if it kills you." +</P> + +<P> +Ward grinned appreciatively. Sick as he was, he realized the gameness +of Billy Louise; what he failed to realize was the gameness of himself. +"I'm a pretty worthless specimen, right now," he said apologetically. +"But I'm yours to command, Bill-the-Conk. You're the doctor." +</P> + +<P> +"Nope, I'm the cook, right now. I've got a hunch. How would you like +a cup of tea, patient?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'd rather have coffee—Doctor William." +</P> + +<P> +"Tea, you mean. I'll have it ready in ten minutes." Then she weakened +before his imploring eyes. "You really oughtn't to drink coffee, with +that fever, Ward. But, maybe if I don't make it very strong and put in +lots of cream— We'll take a chance, buckaroo!" +</P> + +<P> +Ward watched her as intently as if his life depended on her speed. He +had lain in that bunk for nearly six weeks with the coffee-pot sitting +in plain sight on the back of the stove, twelve feet or so from his +reach, and with the can of coffee standing in plain sight on the rough +board shelf against the wall by the window. And he had craved coffee +almost as badly as a drunkard craves whisky. +</P> + +<P> +The sound of the fire snapping in the stove was like music to him. +Later, the smell of the coffee coming briskly to the boiling-point made +his mouth water with desire. And when Billy Louise jabbed two little +slits in a cream can with the point of a butcher knife and poured a +thin stream of canned milk into a big, white granite cup, Ward's eyes +turned traitor to his love for the girl and dwelt hungrily upon the +swift movements of her hands. +</P> + +<P> +"How much sugar, patient?" Billy Louise turned toward him with the +tomato-can sugar-bowl in her hands. +</P> + +<P> +"None. I want to taste the coffee, this trip." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, all right! It's the worst thing you could think of, but that's +the way with a patient. Patients always want what they mustn't have." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure—get it, too." Ward spoke between long, satisfying gulps. +"How's your other patient, Wilhemina? How's mommie?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Ward! She's dead—mommie's dead!" Billy Louise broke down +unexpectedly and completely. She went down on her knees beside the bed +and cried as she had not cried since she looked the last time at +mommie's still face, held in that terrifying calm. She cried until +Ward's excited mutterings warned her that she must pull herself +together. She did, somehow, in spite of her sorrow and her worry and +that day's succession of emotional shocks. She did it because Ward was +sick—very sick, she was afraid—and there was so much that she must do +for him. +</P> + +<P> +"You be s-still," she commanded brokenly, fighting for her former safe +cheerfulness. "I'm all right. Pity yourself, if you've got to pity +somebody. I—can stand—my trouble. I haven't got any broken leg +and—hookin'-cough." She managed a laugh then and took Ward's hand +from her hair and laid it down on the blankets. "Now we won't talk +about things any more. You've got to have something done for that cold +on your lungs." She rose and stood looking down at him with puckered +eyebrows. +</P> + +<P> +"Mommie would say you ought to have a good sweat," she decided. "Got +any ginger?" +</P> + +<P> +"I dunno. I guess not," Ward muttered confusedly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'll go out and find some sage, then, and give you sage tea. +That's another cure-all. Say, Ward, I saw Rattler down the creek. +He's looking fine and dandy. He came whinnying down out of that draw, +to meet us; just tickled to death to see somebody." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't blame him," croaked Ward. "It's enough to tickle anybody." Her +voice seemed to steady his straying fancies. "How're—the +cattle—looking?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just fine," lied Billy Louise. "You're the skinniest thing I've seen +on the ranch. Now do you think you can keep your senses, while I go +and pick some nice, good meddy off a sage bush?" +</P> + +<P> +"I guess so." Ward spoke drowsily. "Give me some more coffee and I +can." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you're the pesteringest patient! I told you coffee isn't good for +what ails you, but I suppose—" She poured him another cup of coffee, +weakened it with hot water, and let him drink it straight. After all, +perhaps the hot drink would induce the perspiration that would break +the fever. She pulled up the wolf-skins and the extra blankets he had +tossed aside in his feverish restlessness and covered him to his chin. +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't move till I come back," she promised, "I'll maybe give +you another cup—after you've filled up on sage tea." With that +qualified hope to cheer him, she left him. +</P> + +<P> +She did not spend all her time picking sage twigs. A bush grew at the +corner of the cabin within easy reach. She went first down to the +stable and led Blue inside and unsaddled him. Rattler was standing +near, and she tried to lead him in also, but he fled from her approach. +She found the pitchfork and managed to scratch a few forkfuls of hay +down from a corner of the stack; enough to fill a manger for Blue and +to leave a little heap beside the stable for Rattler. +</P> + +<P> +When she was leaving the stable to return to the house, however, she +changed her plan a little. She went back, carried the small pile of +hay into the stable, and filled another manger. Then she took down the +wire gate of the hay corral and laid it flat alongside the fence. +Rattler would go in to the stack, and she would shut him in. That +would simplify the catching of him when he was needed. She would find +something in which to carry water to him, if he was too frisky to lead +to the creek. Billy Louise was no coward with horses, but she +recognized certain fixed limitations in the management of a snuffy +brute like Rattler. He was not like Blue, whom she could bully and +tease and coax. Rattler was distinctly a man's saddle-horse. Billy +Louise had never done more than pat his shoulder after he was caught +and saddled and, therefore, prepared for handling. She foresaw some +perturbation of spirit in regard to Rattler. +</P> + +<P> +Ward was lying quiet when she went in, except that he was waving her +handkerchief to and fro by the corners to cool it. Billy Louise took +it from him, wet it again with cold water, and scolded him for getting +his arms from under the covers. That, she said, was no nice way for a +hookin'-cough man to do. +</P> + +<P> +Ward meekly submitted to being covered to his eyes. Then he wriggled +his chin free and demanded that she kiss him. Ward was fairly drunk +with happiness because she was there, in the cabin. The dreary weeks +behind him were a nightmare to be forgotten. His Wilhemina-mine was +there, and she liked him to pieces. Though she had not affirmed it +with words, her eyes when she looked at him told him so; and she had +kissed him when he asked her to. He wanted her to repeat the ecstasy. +</P> + +<P> +"Ward Warren, you're a perfectly awful hookin'-cough man! There. Now +that's going to be the very last one— Oh, Ward, it isn't!" She knelt +and curved an arm around his face and kissed him again and yet again. +"I do love you, Ward. I've been a weak-kneed, horrid thing, and I'm +ashamed to the middle of my bones. You're my own brave buckaroo +always—always! You've done what no other man would do, and you don't +whine about it; and I've been weak and—horrid; and I'll have to love +you about a million years before I can quit feeling ashamed." She +kissed him again with a passion of remorse for her doubts of him. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you through being pals, Wilhemina?" Ward broke rules and freed an +arm, so that he could hold her closer. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I'm just beginning. Just beginning right. I'm your pal for +keeps. But—" +</P> + +<P> +"I love you for keeps, lady mine." Ward stifled another cough. "When +are you going to—marry me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, when you get over the hookin'-cough, I s'pose." Once more Billy +Louise, for the good of her patient, forced herself into safe +flippancy—that was not flippant at all, but merely a tender pretense. +</P> + +<P> +"Now it's up to you to show me whether you are in any hurry at all to +get well," she said. "Keep your hands under the covers while I make +some tea. That fever of yours has got to be stopped immediately—to +once." +</P> + +<P> +She went over and busied herself about the stove, never once looking +toward the bed, though she must have felt Ward's eyes worshiping her. +She was terribly worried about Ward; so worried that she put everything +else into the background of her mind and set herself sternly to the +need of breaking the fever and lessening the evident congestion in his +lungs. +</P> + +<P> +She hunted through the cupboards and found a bottle of turpentine; +syrupy and yellowed with age, but pungent with strength. She found +some lard in a small bucket and melted half a teacupful. Then she tore +up a woolen undershirt she found hanging on a nail and bore +relentlessly down upon him. +</P> + +<P> +"You gotta be greased all over your lungs," she announced with a +matter-of-factness that cost her something; for Billy Louise's innate +modesty was only just topped by her good sense. +</P> + +<P> +Ward submitted without protest while she bared his chest—as white as +her own—and applied the warm mixture with a smoothly vigorous palm. +"That'll fix the hookin'-cough," she said, as she spread the warm +layers of woolen cloth smoothly from shoulder to shoulder. "How does +it feel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Great," he assured her succinctly, and wisely omitted any love-making. +</P> + +<P> +"Will your game leg let you turn over? Because there's some dope left, +and it ought to go between your shoulders." +</P> + +<P> +"The game leg ought to stand more than that," he told her, turning +slowly. "If I hadn't got this cold tacked onto me, I'd have been +trying to walk on it by now." +</P> + +<P> +"Better give it time—since you've been game enough to lie here all +this while and take care of it. I don't believe I'd have had nerve +enough for that, Ward." She poured turpentine and lard into her palm, +reached inside his collar and rubbed it on his shoulders. "Good thing +you had plenty of grub handy. But it must have been awful!" +</P> + +<P> +"It was pretty damned lonesome," he admitted laconically, and that was +as far as his complainings went. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise then poured the water off the sage leaves she had been +brewing in a tin basin, carefully fished out a stem or two, and made +Ward drink every bitter drop. Then she covered him to the eyes and +hardened her heart against his discomfort, while she kept the +handkerchief cool on his head and between times swept the floor with a +carefully dampened broom and wiped the dust off things and restored the +room to its most cheerful atmosphere of livableness. +</P> + +<P> +"Wan' a drink," mumbled Ward, with a blanket over his mouth and a +raveled thread tickling his nose so that he squirmed. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise went over and laid her fingers on his neck. "I can't tell +whether it's grease or perspiration," she said, laughing a little. +"What are you squinting up your nose for? Surely to goodness you don't +mind that little, harmless raveling? If you wouldn't go on breathing, +it wouldn't wiggle around so much!" Nevertheless, she plucked the +tormenting thread and threw it on the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"Gimme—drink," Ward mumbled again. +</P> + +<P> +"There's more sage tea—" +</P> + +<P> +"Waugh!" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose that means you aren't crazy about sage tea! Well, I might +give you a teenty-weenty speck more of coffee. You can't have water +yet, you know. You've—you've got to sweat like a nigger in a cotton +patch first." (Billy Louise could talk very nicely when she wanted to +do so. The Billy of her could also be humanly inelegant when she felt +like it, as you see.) +</P> + +<P> +Ward grunted something and afterwards signified that he would take the +coffee and call it square. +</P> + +<P> +The next time she went near him, he was wrinkling his lean nose because +beads of perspiration were standing there and slipping occasionally +down to his cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"Fine! You're two niggers in a cotton patch now," she announced +cheeringly. "And Mr. Hookin'-cough will have to hunt another home, I +reckon. You weren't half as hoarse when you swore that last time." +</P> + +<P> +It was physically impossible for Ward to blush, since he was already +the color of a boiled beet; but he looked guilty when she uncovered the +rest of his face and wiped off the gathered moisture. "I didn't think +you'd hear," he grinned embarrassedly. +</P> + +<P> +"I was listening for it, buckaroo. I'd have been scared to pieces if +you hadn't cussed a little. I'd have thought sure you were going to +die. A man," she added sententiously, "always has a chance as long as +he's able to swear. It's like a horse wiggling his ears." +</P> + +<P> +The comparison reminded her that she intended to shut Rattler in the +hay corral; she dried Ward's hands hastily, pulled the wolf-skins off +the bed, and commanded him to keep covered until she came back. She +ran down bareheaded to the stable, saw Rattler industriously boring his +nose into the stack, and put up the gate. +</P> + +<P> +When she went into the cabin again, Ward gave a start and opened his +eyes like one who has been dozing. Billy Louise smiled with +gratification. He was better. She knew he was better. She did not +speak, but went over to the stove and pretended to be busy there, +though she was careful to make no noise. When she turned finally and +glanced toward the bed, Ward was asleep. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise took a deep breath, tiptoed over to the bench beside the +table, sat down, and pillowed her head on her folded arms. She wanted +to cry, and she needed to think, and she was deadly, deadly tired. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE WOLF JOKE +</H4> + +<P> +Billy Louise stayed all night. She was afraid to leave Ward until his +cold was safely better, and there was no one living near enough to +summon; no one whom she wanted to summon, in fact, however close they +might have been. She spent most of the night curled comfortably on the +wolf-skins beside the stove, with a sack of flour for a pillow and +Ward's fur coat for covering. Ward slept more unbrokenly than he had +done for a long time, while Billy Louise lay cuddled under the smelly +fur and thought and thought. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning, if Ward were well enough, she meant to ask him about +those cattle he had mentioned when he thought her Buck Olney. They +were the same ones which she had seen in the Cove, she knew. Ward had +told enough to prove that. He had, in fact, told nearly all she needed +to know—except the mystery of his prosperity. He had not mentioned +that, and Billy Louise was more curious than ever about his "wolf +hunting." +</P> + +<P> +At sunrise she rebuilt the fire and made fresh coffee and a stew from +the pieces of jerky she had soaked overnight for the purpose. She +wanted eggs, and bread for toast, and fresh cream; but she did not have +them, and so she managed a very creditable breakfast for her patient +without these desirables. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, that's great. A fellow doesn't appreciate coffee and warm food +until he's eaten out of cans and boxes for a month or so. You're a +great little lady, Wilhemina. I wish you'd happened along +sooner—about six weeks sooner. I'd have got some pleasure out of my +broken leg then, maybe." +</P> + +<P> +"Was it—did Buck Olney break it?" Billy Louise knew he had not, but +she had been waiting for a chance to open the subject. +</P> + +<P> +"No. I broke it myself, pulling Rattler off a bank into some rocks. I +believe I could walk on it, doctor, if you could rustle me something to +use for crutches. That's what held me in bed so long. Beckon you +could manufacture a pair for me?" His eyes made love. "You've done +everything else." He caught her hand and kissed the palm of it. +"Can't the Billy part turn carpenter?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll see. Say, Ward, do you think you could shave off those whiskers +if I got everything ready for you? I don't like you to look like old +Sourdough. Or maybe I could do it. I—I used to shave daddy's neck, +sometimes." +</P> + +<P> +Ward ran his fingers thoughtfully over his hairy cheeks. "I expect I +do look like a prehistoric ancestor. I'll see what I can do about it. +I set my own leg; I guess I can shave myself. You're a great doctor, +Wilhemina. You knocked that cold up to a peak, all right. But—I +don't believe you'd better tackle barbering, my dear girl." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise pouted her lips at him. She could afford to pout now: +Ward was so like himself that she did not worry over him at all. She +also felt that she could afford to badger him into telling her some of +the things she wanted to know. +</P> + +<P> +"Where did you hang Buck?" she asked naïvely. +</P> + +<P> +"Huh?" Ward's eyes bored into hers with his intent look, trying to +read her thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"Where was it you hanged Buck Olney?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nowhere. I put the fear of the Lord into him, that's all. How did +you hear about it?" +</P> + +<P> +"From you." Billy Louise was maddeningly calm. "You told me all about +it yesterday. And about those cattle in the corral up here. I found +them yesterday myself, Ward—only it seems a month ago!—down in the +Cove." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and I drove them up to the corral and read the riot act to Marthy +and Charlie Fox—" +</P> + +<P> +"Huh! What did they say?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, they denied it, of course! What are we going to do about it, +Ward?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, I guess. What did you want to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know. I don't want to hurt them, and I don't want them to +hurt anyone else. Do you know Seabeck? He's an awfully square old +fellow. I believe—" An idea formed vaguely in the back of Billy +Louise's mind. "I believe I could persuade him—" +</P> + +<P> +"I believe you could persuade the devil himself, if you took a notion +to try," Ward affirmed sincerely, when she hesitated. "What do you +want to persuade him into?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, nothing, I guess! How do you feel, Ward? We've got to stick to +the job of getting you fit to leave here and go on down to the ranch +with me. When do you think you could manage to ride?" +</P> + +<P> +Ward looked longingly out of the window, just as he had been looking +for six weeks. "I think I could manage it now," he said doggedly, +because of his great longing. "I set my own leg—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and I'm willing to admit you're a wonder, and have gotten the +stoics beaten at their own game. Still, there's a limit to what the +human body will stand. I'm going down to tend the horses, and if you +think you can walk without hurting your leg, I'll hunt some forked +sticks for crutches. We'll see how you make out with them, first, +before we talk about riding twenty miles on horseback. Besides, you'd +catch more cold if you went out to-day." +</P> + +<P> +While she talked, her plans took definite shape in the back of her +mind. She took Buck Olney's knife that was lying on the window-sill +and went in search of crutches among the willows along the creek. +Forked sticks were plentiful enough, but it was not so easy to find two +that would support even so skinny a man as Ward. She compromised by +cutting four that seemed suitable and binding them together in couples. +</P> + +<P> +When she went in with her makeshifts, Ward was sitting upon the side of +the bunk, clothed and in his right mind—but pitifully wobbly and +ashamed of his weakness. +</P> + +<P> +"You shouldn't have tried to get up yet," she scolded. "Do you want to +be worse, so I'll have to cure you all over again?" Then, woman-like, +she proceeded to annul the effect by petting and sympathy. +</P> + +<P> +It was while she was sitting in the one chair, padding the sticks +crudely enough but effectively, that Ward, gazing at her with the light +of love in his eyes, thought of something he had meant to tell her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, by the way, I've got something for you, Wilhemina," he said. "Put +down that thing and come over here. I want to shave before I take a +try at walking, anyway. See here, lady-mine. How would you like these +strung on a gold chain?" +</P> + +<P> +From under his pillow he drew out a tobacco sack and emptied the +contents into her palm. "Those are your Christmas present, Bill-Loo. +Like 'em?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do I!" Billy Louise held up the biggest one and stared at it +round-eyed. "Gold nuggets! Where in the world—" +</P> + +<P> +"That's what I'm going to tell you—now you're through being just pals. +Oh, I'd have told you, anyway, I reckon, only the play never came +right, after that first little squabble we had over it." He put an arm +around her, pulled her down beside him, and rubbed his bristly chin +over her hair. "That's the wolf joke, William. I did make a lot of +money wolfing—on the square. I dug out a den of pups and struck a +little pocket of pretty rich gravel. I've been busy panning it out all +the time I could spare, till the creek froze up." +</P> + +<P> +"You found a gold mine?" Billy Louise gasped. "Why, whoever would have +thought—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I wouldn't call it a gold mine, exactly," he hastened to assure +her, before her imagination dazzled her. "There isn't enough of it. +It's just a pocket. I've cleaned up about eighteen hundred dollars, +this summer, besides these nuggets. Maybe more. And there's some left +yet. I found both ends of the streak; it lies along a ledge on the +side of a gully. I couldn't find anything except in that one streak of +gravel; and when that's gone she's done, as near as I can figure. But +it isn't all gone yet, lady mine. There's enough left to pay the +preacher, anyway. That big fellow I found along toward the last, just +before I quit working." He kissed her gravely. "Poor old girl! She's +dead game, all right, and she's kind of had the cards stacked against +her from the start. But things are going to come easier from now on, +if I'm any prophet. It's too bad—" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise read his thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Mommie looked so peaceful, Ward. At the last, I mean. If I could +have waked her up, I don't believe I'd have had the heart to do it. +She never was very happy; you know that. She couldn't seem to see the +happiness in little things. So many are like that. And she looked +happier—at the last—than I ever saw her look before. So—I'm +happier, too—since yesterday." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you?" Ward dropped his face against her hair and held it there +for a minute. It was not his cold altogether that had made his voice +break hoarsely over those two words. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know—" Billy Louise was lifting the nuggets one after the +other and letting them drop to her lap—"happiness is like gold, Ward. +We've got to pan it out of life ourselves. If we try to steal it from +someone else, we pay the penalty, don't you think? And so many go +looking and looking for great big chunks of it all—all—whatever they +do to it." She laughed a little at her ignorance of the technical +process. "You see what I mean, don't you? We get a streak of gravel; +that's life. And we can pan out happiness if we try—little nuggets +and sometimes just colors—but it keeps us hoping and working." +</P> + +<P> +"Doctor of philosophy!" Ward kissed her hair. "You're a great little +girl, all right. And I'm the buckaroo that has struck a mighty rich +streak of pay dirt in life, Wilhemina. I'm panning out happiness +millions to the pan right now." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise, attacked with a spasm of shyness, went abruptly back to +padding the makeshift crutches and changed the subject. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going home, soon as I fix you comfy," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Whereupon Ward protested most strenuously and did not look in the least +like a man who has just announced himself a millionaire in happiness. +</P> + +<P> +"What for?" he demanded, after he had exhausted himself to no purpose +in telling her that she should not leave the cabin until he could go +along. +</P> + +<P> +"I want eggs—for you, you ungrateful beast. And some bread for toast. +And I want to tell Phoebe and John where I am." +</P> + +<P> +"You think those Injuns are going to hurt themselves worrying? I don't +want any eggs and toast. I've managed all right on crackers and jerky +for six weeks, so I guess I can stand it a few hours longer. Still, if +you're crazy to go—" He dropped back on the pillow and turned his +face away. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise worked silently until she had made the crutches as soft on +top as she could. Then she hunted for Ward's razor and shaving-cup and +after one or two failures—through using too much water—she managed to +make a cup of very nice lather. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, buckaroo, don't be a sulky kid," she said, firmly as she could. +"You know it's hard enough for me to go off and leave you here like +this. But, as you say, you've managed to get along for six weeks +without me, so—" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure. I could do it again, I reckon." Ward turned a gloomy pair of +eyes upon her. "What's the rush? Do you think it isn't proper—" +</P> + +<P> +"It's always proper to do what is right and helpful and kind," said +Billy Louise with dignity, because she had made up her mind and was +trying not to weaken. "I've lived in this country all my life, and I +guess my reputation will stand this little strain," she went on +lightly, "even if anyone finds it out. I've got to go, that's all. +Those people in the Cove—" It was eloquent of her stern justice that +she could not bring herself to speak them by name. +</P> + +<P> +"You aren't going to turn them over to the sheriff, are you, William? +Good Lord, girl! If I can—" +</P> + +<P> +"Your lather is getting cold," Billy Louise said evenly. "I ought to +have known better than mention the subject at all. I'm going to do +what's right. I believe I have some faint idea of right and wrong, +Ward Warren. And I'm not going to do anything that I don't feel is +right, or anything that I'll be sorry for. You might trust me, I +think. It's early yet—" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll come back before night, won't you?" From his tone, Ward had +yielded the point—and was minded to yield with what graciousness he +could command. It had occurred to him that he was behaving like a +selfish booby. Billy Louise should not call him weak-kneed; whatever +happened. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I don't think I can, Ward. I might send John." +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't bother. I don't want John." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't suppose he would be much comfort. I'll make a pot of +coffee, Ward, and I'll fill the lantern and fix it so you can heat a +cup when you want to; how will that be?" She brightened a little at +the idea. "And I'll fix your lungs up again before I go and bake some +nice, hot biscuits and put here, and butter, and fix you just as comfy +as possible. Or, if you can manage to get around with the crutches, +all the better. I'll leave things so you won't have to go outside for +a thing. +</P> + +<P> +"And, Ward"—she bent over him anxiously—"I'm going because I must. +For all our sakes I must go right away. And I'll come back to-morrow +just as early as I can get here. So if you are real good, and take +care of your cold, and get a little strong about walking, you can go +back with me. And to-morrow night you can sit in daddy's chair before +the fireplace, and we'll have chicken and—" +</P> + +<P> +"All right—all right!" Ward laughed suddenly. "Will you give me a +lump of sugar and let me look at all the pitty pittys in the album? +Oh, you William the Conqueror!" He caught her close, when he saw that +he had hurt her feelings a little, and held her a minute. "When I get +two good legs under me, Wilhemina," he promised softly, "I'm going to +stake myself to the job of taking care of you. Your cheeks are pretty +thin, little lady-girl. Damn the luck, anyway!" +</P> + +<P> +"Here's the lather. I'm going down and saddle up," said Billy Louise. +"When I come back, we'll see how the crutches work." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, say!" Ward called after her. "My saddle's behind a buck bush up +along the trail where the bank is cut straight. I forgot about that. +And would you mind bringing the looking-glass, William? How the deuce +do you think a man's going to shave without a glass? And that old +paper to wipe the lather on, while you're at it. I see the Billy of +you hasn't got to the shaving-point yet, at any rate!" +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise took down the glass and flung it on the bed, threw the +newspaper after it, and departed with her chin in the air to find his +saddle and bridle and carry them to the stable. +</P> + +<P> +Ward, sitting up in bed, stared at the closed door remorsefully. When +he was convinced that she did not intend to return even for the last +word which is so tempting to a woman, he reached for the glass, held it +up, and looked within. +</P> + +<P> +"Sufferin' saddle blankets!" he grunted and dropped the glass. "And +she could kiss a mug like that!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +"HM-MM!" +</H4> + +<P> +Floyd Carson was a somewhat phlegmatic young man, but he swore an +astonished oath when he saw Billy Louise galloping along the lane that +led nowhere except to the womanless abode of Samuel Seabeck. He walked +very fast to the stable, which was the first logical stopping-place, +and so he met Billy Louise before she had time to dismount, even +supposing she intended to do so. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Floyd! Is Mr. Seabeck at home?" Billy Louise was not one to +waste time in the superfluities of speech when she had anything on her +mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure. Get off, and I'll put up your horse. We're just through +eatin', but our grub carpenter will rustle something for yuh, all +right." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I can't stop this time. I'm not hungry, anyway. Just give a yell +for Mr. Seabeck, will you? I want to see him a minute." +</P> + +<P> +Floyd eyed her uncertainly, decided that Billy Louise was not in the +mood to yield to persuasion, and tactfully hurried off to find Seabeck +without shouting for him—lest he bring others also, who were evidently +not wanted at all. He took it that Billy Louise felt some diffidence +about visiting a strictly bachelor outfit, and he set himself to +relieve her of any embarrassment. +</P> + +<P> +Presently Seabeck himself came from the dirt-roofed, rambling cabin +which was his home and strode down the path, buttoning his coat as he +came. Floyd's face showed for a minute in the doorway before he +effaced himself completely, and not another man was in sight anywhere. +Billy Louise was grateful to circumstance; she had dreaded this visit, +though not for the reason Floyd Carson believed. +</P> + +<P> +"How de do, Miss MacDonald? Pretty nice day, but I'm afraid it's a +weather-breeder. The wind's trying to change, I notice." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and so I mustn't stop. Could you ride part way home with me, Mr. +Seabeck? I—want to talk with you about something. And I can't stop a +minute. I must get home." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, certainly, I'll go. If you'll wait just a minute while I saddle +up—or if you'd rather ride on, I'll overtake you." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll ride on, I think. Blue hates standing around, and he's a little +warm, too. You're awfully good, Mr. Seabeck—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, not at all!" Seabeck stubbed his toe on the stable doorsill in +his confusion at the praise. "I'll be right along, soon as I can slap +a saddle on." He disappeared, and Billy Louise turned and loped slowly +down the lane. +</P> + +<P> +So far, so good. Billy Louise tried to believe that it was all going +to be as plain sailing as this fortuitous beginning, but she was aware +of a nervous fluttering in her throat while she waited, and she knew +that she positively dreaded hearing Seabeck gallop up behind her on the +frozen trail. "Why will people do things that make a lot of trouble +for others?" she cried out petulantly. And then she heard the steady +<I>pluck, pluckety-pluck</I> of Seabeck's horse, and twisted her lips with a +whimsical acceptance of the part she had set herself to play. She +might smash things, she told herself, but at the worst it would be only +a premature smash. "Come, Bill," she adjured herself, pretending it +was what Ward would have said, had he looked into her mind. "Be a +Bill-the-Conk—and a good one! Shove in your chips and play for all +there is in it." +</P> + +<P> +"You must have some lightning method of saddling, Mr. Seabeck," she +smiled over her shoulder at him when he came up. +</P> + +<P> +"We learn to do things quick when we've handled cattle a few years," he +admitted. He had a diffident manner of receiving compliments which +pleased Billy Louise and gave her confidence a needed brace. She was +not a skilled coquette; she was too honest and too straightforward for +that. Still, nature places certain weapons in the hands of a woman, +and instinct shows her how to use them. Seabeck, from his very +unaccustomedness to women, seemed to her particularly pliable. Billy +Louise took her courage in both hands and went straight to the point. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Seabeck, I've always heard that you're an awfully square man," she +said. "Daddy seemed to think that you could be depended on in any kind +of a pinch. I hope it's true. I'm banking a lot on your squareness +to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I don't know about my being any better than my neighbors," he +said, with a twinkle of humor in his eyes, which were a bright, +unvarying blue. "But you can bank on my doing anything I can for you, +Miss MacDonald. I think I could be even better than square—to help a +plucky little girl who—" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't mean just the ordinary squareness," Billy Louise put in +quietly. "I mean bigness, too; a bigness that will make a man be more +than square; a bigness that will let him see all around a thing and +judge it from a bigger viewpoint than mere justice—" +</P> + +<P> +"Hm-mm—if you could trust me enough to—" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to, Mr. Seabeck. I'm going to take it for granted you're +bigger than your own squareness. And if you're not—if you're just a +selfish, weak, letter-perfect, honest man, I'll—feel like—thrashing +you." Without a doubt that was the Billy of her which spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take the thrashing if you think I need it," he promised, looking +at her with something more than admiration. "What have you done, Miss +MacDonald? If I can help you hide the body—" +</P> + +<P> +"There!" Billy Louise dared to wrinkle her nose at him—and I don't +know which of her did it. "I knew you'd play up like a good sport. +But what if it isn't a body? What if—what if you found some of your +cattle with—with a big D—run over your brand?" She had a perfectly +white line around her mouth and nostrils then, but she faced him +squarely. +</P> + +<P> +"Hm-mm!" Seabeck gave her a quick, sidewise glance and pulled +thoughtfully at the graying whiskers that pointed his chin. "I would +have been glad to lend you money, or help you in any way." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know." Billy Louise snapped her reins impatiently. "But what +would you do about the—cattle?" +</P> + +<P> +"What could I do? What would you want me to do? I should do whatever +would help you. I would—" +</P> + +<P> +"Would you—be as ready to help somebody else? Somebody I—thought +a—lot—of?" +</P> + +<P> +Seabeck, evidently, saw light. He cleared his throat and spat gravely +into a bush. "I see you don't trust me, after all," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I do. I've got to; I mean, I'd have to whether I did or not. It's +like this, Mr. Seabeck. It isn't the big D brand; of course you knew +it couldn't be. But it isn't yours, either. Someone was tempted and +was weak. They're sorry now. They want to do the right thing, and it +rests with you whether they can do it. You can shut them up in jail if +you like; you have a perfect right to do it. Some men would do that +and be able to sleep after it, I suppose. But I believe you're bigger +than that. I believe you're big enough to see that if a person goes +wrong and then sees the mistake and wants to pull back into the +straight trail, a man—even the one who has been wronged—would be +committing a moral crime to prevent it. To take a person who wants to +make a fresh, honest start, and shut that person up amongst criminals +and brand him as a criminal, seems to me a worse wrong than to steal a +few head of cattle; don't you think so, Mr. Seabeck?" +</P> + +<P> +What Mr. Seabeck thought did not immediately appear in speech. He was +pulling a little harder at his whiskers and staring at the ears of his +horse. +</P> + +<P> +"That would depend on the person," he said at last. "Some men are born +criminals." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, we aren't talking about that kind of a man. Surely to goodness +you don't call Charlie Fox a born criminal, or Marthy Meilke?" +</P> + +<P> +"Charlie Fox! Is that the person you mean, who has been—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is! And he is horribly sorry, and so is Marthy, and they'll +pay you for the cattle. And if you do anything mean about it, it will +simply kill poor old Marthy. You couldn't send her to the pen, Mr. +Seabeck. Think how she's worked there in the Cove; and Charlie has +worked like a perfect slave; and he was trying to get a start so +he—could—get married—" +</P> + +<P> +"Hm-mm!" Rumors had reached Seabeck, thanks to Billy Louise's dropped +lashes upon a certain occasion, which caused him to believe he saw +further light. +</P> + +<P> +"And if you're going to be horrid—" +</P> + +<P> +"Will the—lady he wants to marry give him another chance?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you think she ought to—if she l-loves him?" Billy Louise +studied the skyline upon the side farthest from Seabeck. +</P> + +<P> +"You say he wants to pay for the cattle and—" +</P> + +<P> +"He'll do anything he can to make amends," said Billy Louise, with +conviction. "He'll take his medicine and go to jail if you insist," +she added sorrowfully. "It will ruin his whole life, of course, and +break a couple of women's hearts, but—" +</P> + +<P> +"It's a bad thing, a mighty bad thing, when a man tries to get ahead +too fast." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a good thing when he learns the lesson without having to pay for +it with his whole future," Billy Louise amended the statement. +</P> + +<P> +Seabeck smiled a little behind his fingers that kept tugging at his +whiskers. +</P> + +<P> +"Did Charlie Fox send Miss Portia—" +</P> + +<P> +"He doesn't know I had any intention of coming," Billy Louise assured +him quickly and with perfect truth. "They'll both be awfully surprised +when they find it out"—which was also perfectly true—"and when they +see you ride up, they'll think you've got the sheriff at your back. I +haven't a doubt they—" +</P> + +<P> +"There are a few points I'd like to clear up, if you can help me," +Seabeck interrupted. "All this rustling that has been going on for the +past year and a half: are Fox and the Meilke woman mixed up in that? I +want," he said, "to help the young man—and her. But if they have been +operating on a large scale, I'm afraid—" +</P> + +<P> +"I believe Charlie must have been influenced in some ways by bad +acquaintances," Billy Louise answered more steadily than she felt. +"But his—rustling—has been of a petty kind. I won't apologize for +him, Mr. Seabeck. I think it's perfectly awful, what he has done. But +I think it would be more awful still not to give him a chance. The +other rustling is some outside gang, I'm sure. If Charlie was mixed up +with them, it's very slightly—just enough to damn him utterly if he +were arrested and tried. He isn't a natural criminal. He's just weak. +And he's learned his lesson. It's up to you, Mr. Seabeck, to say +whether he shall have a chance to profit by the lesson. And there's +poor old Marthy in it, too. She just worships Charlie and would do +anything—even steal for him." +</P> + +<P> +Seabeck meditated for a mile, and Billy Louise watched him uneasily +from the tail of her eye. To tell the plain truth, she was in a panic +of fear at what she had done. It had looked so simple and so +practicable when she had planned it; and now when the words were out +and the knowledge had reached Seabeck and was beyond her control, she +could not think of any good reason for telling him. +</P> + +<P> +Last night, when she lay curled up by the stove under Ward's wolf-skin +coat, this seemed the only possible way out: To tell Seabeck and trust +to his kindness and generosity to refrain from pushing the case. To +have Charlie Fox give back what he had stolen or pay for it—anything +that would satisfy Seabeck's sense of justice—and let him start +honestly. She had thought that Seabeck would be merciful, if she told +him in the right way; but now, when she stole a glance at his bent, +brooding face, she was frightened. He did not look merciful, but stern +and angry. She remembered then that stealing cattle is the one crime a +cattleman finds it hard to forgive. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise might have spared herself some mental anguish if she could +have known that Seabeck was brooding over the wonder of a woman's love +that pardons and condones a man's sins. He was wishing that such a +love as Billy Louise's had come to him, and he was wondering how a man +could be tempted to go wrong when such a girl loved him. He was +laboring under a misapprehension, of course. Billy Louise had +permitted him to misunderstand her interest in the matter. If he had +known that she was pleading solely for Marthy—poor, avaricious, gray, +old Marthy—perhaps his mercy would have been less tinged with that +smoldering resentment which was directed not so much at the wrongdoer, +as at fate which had cheated him. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm glad you came and told me this," he said at last. "Very glad, +indeed, Miss MacDonald. Certain steps have been taken lately to push +this—wipe out this rustling and general lawlessness, and if you had +not told me, I'm afraid the mills of justice would have ground +your—friends. Of course the law would be merciful to Mrs. Meilke. No +jury would send an old woman like that— By the way, that breed they +have had working for them—he is in the deal, too, I take it." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, of course. They had to have someone to help. Marthy can't do +any riding." Billy Louise spoke with a dreary apathy that betrayed how +the reaction had set in. "She stayed in the Cove, in case anyone came +prowling down there. It seems there's a wire fastened to the gate, and +it rings a bell down at the house somewhere when the gate is opened. +And besides that she had a dog that would tackle strangers. I don't +believe," she went on, after a little silence, "that Marthy would have +turned dishonest for herself. She was grasping, and all she cared for +was getting ahead. It—sort of grew on her, after the years of trying +to dig a bare living out of the ground. I—can understand that; and I +can see how she would go to any length almost for—Charlie. But—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, let's not think any more about them until we have to." There +was a certain crude attempt at soothing her anxieties. "You've trusted +me, Miss MacDonald. I'll try and not disappoint you in the matter, +though, unless they are quite separate from the gang which is being run +down, it may be hard to protect them. Do you know—whether—any other +cowman has suffered from their—mm-mm—haste to get rich?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think there's anyone but you," Billy Louise replied lifelessly. +</P> + +<P> +"Hm-mm—do you know, Miss MacDonald, whether there was any intimacy +between—your friends—and the man we had for stock inspector, Mr. +Olney?" +</P> + +<P> +"I—can't say, as to that." Billy Louise, you see, did not know much +about details, but the little she did know made her hedge. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a queer story about Olney. You know he has left the country, +don't you? It seems he rode very hurriedly up to the depot at Wilmer +to take the train. Just as he stepped on, a fellow who knew him by +sight noticed a piece of paper pinned on the back of his coat. He +jerked it loose. It was a—m-m—very peculiar document for a man to be +wearing on his back." Seabeck pulled at his whiskers, but it was not +the pulling which quirked the corners of his lips. "The man said Olney +seemed greatly upset over something and had evidently forgotten the +paper until he felt it being pulled loose. He said Olney looked back +then, and he was the color of a pork-rind. The train was pulling out. +The man took the paper over to a saloon and let several others read it. +They—mm-mm—decided that it should be placed in the hands of the +authorities. Have—m-m—your—friends ever mentioned the matter to +you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Billy Louise, and her eyes were wide. +</P> + +<P> +"Hm-mm! We must discover, if we can, Miss MacDonald, whether they are +in any way implicated with this man Olney. I believe that this is at +present more important than the recovery of any—m-m—cattle of mine +which they may have appropriated." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise looked at him for a minute. "Mr. Seabeck, you're awfully +dear about this!" she told him. "I haven't been as square as you; and +I've been— Listen here, Mr. Seabeck! I don't love Charlie Fox a bit. +I love somebody else, and I'm going to marry him. He's so square, I'd +hate to have him think I even let you believe something that wasn't +true. It's Marthy I'm thinking of, Mr. Seabeck. I was afraid you +wouldn't let Charlie off just for her sake, but I thought maybe if you +just thought I—wanted you to do it for mine, why, maybe—with two +women to be sorry for, you'd kind of—" +</P> + +<P> +"Hm-mm!" Seabeck sent her a keen, blue, twinkling glance that made +Billy Louise turn hot all over with shame and penitence. "Hm-mm!" he +said again—if one can call that a saying—and pulled at his graying +whiskers. "Hm-mmm!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +MARTHY +</H4> + +<P> +Billy Louise led the way down the gorge, through the meadow, and along +the orchard to the little gate. The Cove seemed empty and rather +forlorn, with the wind creeping up the river and rattling the dry +branches of the naked fruit trees. Not much more than twenty-four +hours had slid into the past since Billy Louise had galloped away from +the place, yet she felt vaguely that life had taken a big stride here +since she last saw it. Nothing was changed, though, as far as she +could see. A few cattle fed in the meadow next the river, a fattening +hog lifted himself from his bed of straw and grunted at them as they +passed. A few chickens were hunting fishworms in the thawed places of +the garden, and a yellow cat ran creepingly along the top rail of the +nearest corral, crouched there with digging claws and pounced down into +a flock of snowbirds. A drift of dead apple leaves stirred uneasily +beside the footpath through the berry bushes. Billy Louise started +nervously and glanced over her shoulder at Seabeck. For some reason +she wanted the comfort of his presence. She waited until he came up to +her—tall, straight like a soldier, and silent as the Cove itself. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm—scared," said Billy Louise. She did not smile either when she +said it. "I—hate empty-feeling places. I'm—afraid of emptiness." +</P> + +<P> +"Yet you are always riding alone in the hills." Seabeck looked down at +her with a puzzled expression in his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"The hills aren't empty," she told him impatiently. "They're just big +and quiet. This is—" She flung out a hand and did not try to find a +word for what she felt. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I go first? I thought you would rather—" +</P> + +<P> +"I would." Billy Louise pulled herself together, angry at her sudden +impulse to run, as she had run from Ward's quiet cabin. She remembered +that unreasoning panic—was it really only yesterday?—and went +steadily up the path and across the little ditch which Marthy had dug. +Why must sordid trouble and dull misery hang over a beauty-spot like +this? she thought resentfully. +</P> + +<P> +She stopped for a minute on the doorstep, hesitating before she opened +the door. Behind her, Seabeck drew close as if he would shield her +from something; perhaps he, too, felt the deadly quiet and emptiness of +the place. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise opened the door and stepped into the kitchen. She stopped +and stood still, so that her slim figure would have hidden the interior +from the eyes of Seabeck had he not been so tall. As it was, she +barred his way so that he must stand on the step outside. +</P> + +<P> +By the kitchen table, with her elbows on the soiled oilcloth, sat +Marthy. Her uncombed hair hung in wisps about her head; her hard old +face was lined and gray, her hard eyes dull with brooding. Billy +Louise, staring at her from the doorway, knew that Marthy had been +sitting like that for a long, long time. +</P> + +<P> +She went over to her diffidently. Hesitatingly she laid her gauntleted +hand on Marthy's stooped shoulder. She did not say anything. Marthy +did not move under her touch, except to turn her dull glance upon +Seabeck, standing there on the doorstep. +</P> + +<P> +"C'm in," she said stolidly. "What'd yuh come fer?" +</P> + +<P> +"Miss MacDonald will perhaps explain—" +</P> + +<P> +"She ain't got nothin' to explain," said hard old Marthy with grim +finality. "I'll do what explainin's to be done. C'm in. Don't stand +there like a stump. And shut the door. It's cold as a barn here, +anyway." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Marthy!" cried Billy Louise, with the sound of tears in her voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't oh Marthy me," said the harsh voice flatly. "I don't want no +Marthyin' nor no sympathy. Well, old man, you're here to colleck, I +s'pose. Take what's in sight; 'tain't none of it yourn, far's I know, +but anything you claim you kin have, fer all me. I've lived honest all +my days an' worked fer what I got. I've harbored thieves in my old age +and trusted them that wa'n't fit to be trusted. I've allus paid my +debts, Seabeck. I'm willin' to pay now fer bein' a fool." +</P> + +<P> +"W-where's Charlie?" Billy Louise leaned and whispered the question. +</P> + +<P> +"I d'no, and I don't care. He's pulled out—him an' that breed. I'll +have t' pay yuh for seven growed cattle I never seen till yist'day, +Seabeck. You can set yer own price on 'em. I ain't sure, but I've got +an idee they was shot las' night an' dumped in the river. You c'n set +yer price. I've got rheumatiz so bad I couldn't go 'n' put a stop to +nothin'—but—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Marthy!" Billy Louise was shivering and crying now. "Marthy! +Don't be so—so hard. It was all Charlie—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Marthy harshly, "it was all Charlie. He was a thief, an' I +was sech a simple-minded old fool I never knowed what he was. I let +him go ahead, an' I set in the house with a white apurn tied on me an' +thought I was havin' an easy time. I set here and let him rob my +neighbors that I ain't never harmed er cheated out of a cent, and +soon's he thought he was found out, he—left ole Marthy to look after +herself. Never so much as fed the hogs or done the milkin' first! +Looky here, Seabeck! You'll git paid back, an' I'll take your figgers +fer what I owe, but if you git after Charlie, I'll—kill yuh. You let +'im go, I'm the one he hurt most—and I ain't goin'—" She laid her +frowsy old head on her arms, like one who is utterly crushed and dumb. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Marthy!" Billy Louise knelt and threw her arms around Marthy's +shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"You've got to come and lie down, Marthy," said Billy Louise, after a +long, unbroken silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Seabeck, if you'll start a fire, I'll make some tea for her. +Come, Marthy—just to please me. Do it for Billy Louise, Marthy." +</P> + +<P> +The old woman rose stiffly, and with a feebleness that seemed utterly +foreign to her usual energy, permitted Billy Louise to lead her from +the kitchen. In the sitting-room that Charlie had built and furnished +for her, Marthy lay and stared around her with that same dull apathy +she had shown from the first. Only once did she manifest any real +emotion, and that was when Billy Louise came in with some tea and toast. +</P> + +<P> +"You take all them books outa them shelves an' burn 'em up," she +commanded. "An' you take them two pictures off'n that shelf, of him +an' her, an' bring 'em t' me." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise set the toast and tea down on a chair and brought the +pictures. She did not say a word, but she looked a little scared and +her eyes were very big, just as they had been when Ward mistook her for +Buck Olney and so let her see into another one of the dark places of +life. It seemed to Billy Louise that she was being compelled to look +into a good many dark places, lately. +</P> + +<P> +Marthy took the two photographs and looked at the first with hatred. +"The Jezebel! She won't git to run it over ole Marthy," she muttered +with sullen triumph and twisted the cardboard spitefully in her gnarled +old fingers. "She can't come here an' take all I've got an' never give +me a thankye for it. I'm shet uh her, anyway." She twisted again and +yet again, till the picture was a handful of ragged scraps of +cardboard. Then she raised herself to an elbow and flung the fragments +far from her and lay down again with glum satisfaction. +</P> + +<P> +Her fingers touched the other picture, which had slid to the couch. +Mechanically she picked it up and held it so that the light from the +window struck it full. This was Charlie's face—Charlie with the +falsely frank smile in his eyes, and with his lips curved as they did +when he was just going to say, "Now, Aunt Martha!" in tender protest +against her too eager industry. +</P> + +<P> +Marthy's chin began to quiver while she looked. Her lips sagged with +the pull of her aching heart. For the third time in her life Billy +Louise saw big, slow tears gather in Marthy's hard blue eyes and slide +down the leathery seams in her cheeks. Billy Louise looked, found her +vision blurring with her own tears, and turned and tiptoed from the +room. +</P> + +<P> +Seabeck was gone somewhere on his horse. Billy Louise guessed shrewdly +that he was down in the meadows, looking over the cattle and trying to +estimate the extent of the thievery. She put Blue in the stable and +fed him, with that half-mechanical habit of attending to the needs of +one's mount which becomes second nature to the range-bred. She would +not go on to the Wolverine; that needed no decision; she accepted it at +once as a fact. Marthy needed her now more than anyone. More even +than Ward, though Billy Louise hated to think of him up there alone and +practically helpless. But Marthy must have her to-night. Marthy was +facing her bitterest sorrow since Minervy died, and Marthy was old. +Ward, Billy Louise reminded herself sternly, was not old, and he was +facing happiness—so far as he or anyone knew. She wanted very much to +be with Ward, but she could not delude her conscience into believing +that he needed her more than did Marthy. +</P> + +<P> +Seabeck returned after awhile, and Billy Louise, who was watching from +the doorway, met him at the little gate as he was coming up to the +house. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, how bad is it, Mr. Seabeck?" she asked sharply, just because she +felt the imperative need of facts—she who had struggled so long in the +quicksands of suspicion and doubts and fears and suspense. +</P> + +<P> +"Hmm-mm—how bad is it—in the house?" he countered. "The real crime +has been committed there, it seems to me. A few head of cattle, more +or less, don't count for much against the broken heart of an old woman." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" Billy Louise, her hands clenched upon the gate, stared up +wide-eyed into his face. And this was the real Seabeck, whom she had +known impersonally all her life! This was the real man of him, whom +she had never known; a flawless diamond of a soul behind those bright +blue eyes and that pointed, graying beard; poet, philosopher, gentleman +to the bone. "Oh! You saw that, too! And they're your cattle that +were stolen! You saw it—oh, you're—you're—" +</P> + +<P> +"Hmm-mm—a human being, I hope, Miss MacDonald, as well as a mere +cattleman. How is the old lady?" +</P> + +<P> +"Crying," said Billy Louise, with brief directness. "Crying over the +picture of that—swine. Think of his running off and leaving her here +all alone—and not even doing the chores first!" (Here, you must know, +was broken an unwritten law of the ranch.) "And Marthy's got +rheumatism, too, so she can hardly walk—" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll attend to the chores, Miss MacDonald." Seabeck's lips quirked +under the fingers that pulled at his whiskers. "You say—over his +picture?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, over his picture!" Billy Louise spoke with a suppressed fury. +"With that honest look in his eyes—oh, I could kill him!" +</P> + +<P> +"Hmm-mm—it does seem a pity that one can't. But if she can cry—" +</P> + +<P> +"I see. You believe too that tears are a necessary kind of weakness +for a woman, like smoking tobacco is for a man—or swearing. Well, I +can just tell you, Mr. Seabeck, that some tears pull the very soul out +of a person; they're the red-hot pinchers of the torture-chamber of +life, Mr. Seabeck. Every single, slow tear that Marthy sheds right now +is taking that much away from her life. Why, she—she idolized +that—that devil. She hadn't much that was lovable in poor old Jase; +he was just her husband; he wasn't even a real man. And she never had +any children to love, except a little girl that died. And she's worked +here and scrimped and saved till she got just fairly comfortable, and +then Charlie Fox came and patted her on the back and called her a game +little lady, and poor old Marthy just poured out all the love and all +the trust she had in her, on him! And she's old, and she had starved +all her life for a little love—a little affection and a few kind +words. I don't suppose Jase kissed her once in twenty years; I +couldn't imagine him getting up steam enough to kiss anybody! And +Charlie petted her and did little things for her that nobody had ever +done in her life. It meant a whole lot to Marthy to have a man take +the water bucket away from her and give her a little hug and tell her +she mustn't think of carrying water; oh, you're a man, and I don't +suppose you can realize; I didn't myself, till lately—" Billy Louise +blushed and then twisted her lips, wondering if love had taught her all +this. +</P> + +<P> +"And so Marthy just leaned more and more on him and let him take care +of her and pet her; and she never once dreamed he was doing anything +crooked. I thought she did, I know, Mr. Seabeck. I thought she was in +it, too; but I see now that Marthy has been living the woman in her, +these last two years; she'd never had a chance before. And now to have +him—to know he's just a common thief and to have him go off and leave +her—Mr. Seabeck, I'd be willing to bet all I've got that Marthy would +have forgiven his stealing cattle, if he had just stayed. She'd have +done anything on earth for him; and the bigger the sacrifice she made +for him, the more she would have loved him; women are like that. But +to have him go off—and—leave her—and not bother his head about what +happened to her, just so he got out of it—Mr. Seabeck, that's going to +kill Marthy. It's going to kill her by inches." +</P> + +<P> +"I—see," he assented, looking thoughtfully at the flushed face and +big, shining eyes of Billy Louise. (I wonder if Seabeck was not +thinking how he had known Billy Louise impersonally all her life and +yet had never met the real Billy Louise until to-day!) +</P> + +<P> +"And yet," she added bitterly, "she's going to protect him if it takes +every cent she's managed to rake together these last thirty years. You +heard what she told you. She said she'd kill you if you hurt Charlie. +She'd try it, too." +</P> + +<P> +"Hmm-mm, yes! My life has been threatened several times to-day." +Seabeck looked at her with eyes a-twinkle, and Billy Louise blushed to +the crown of her Stetson hat. "Do you think, Miss MacDonald, she would +feel like talking business for a few minutes?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes; if she's like me, she'll want to get the agony over with." +Billy Louise turned with a twitch of the shoulders. She felt chilled, +somehow. She had not quite expected that Seabeck would want to talk +about his stolen stock at all. She had rather taken it for granted +that he would let that subject lie quiet for awhile. Oh, well, he was +a cattleman, after all. +</P> + +<P> +Marthy did not attempt to rise when Seabeck followed Billy Louise into +the sitting-room. She caught up her apron and wiped her eyes and her +nose, however, and she also slid Charlie's picture under the cheap +cushion. After that she faced Seabeck with harsh composure and waited +for the settlement. +</P> + +<P> +"Hm-mm! I have been looking over the cattle," he began, sitting on the +edge of a chair and turning his black hat absently round and round by +the brim. "You—mm-mm—you tell me there were seven head of grown +stock—" +</P> + +<P> +"That they shot and throwed in the river, with the brands cut out," +interpolated Marthy stolidly. "I heard 'em say that's how they would +git rid of 'em, an' I heard 'em shootin' down there." +</P> + +<P> +"Hmm-mm, yes! Do you know just what—" +</P> + +<P> +"Five dry cows 'n' two steers—long two-year-oles, I jedged 'em to be." +Marthy was certainly prompt enough and explicit enough. And her lips +were grim, and her faded blue eyes hard and steady upon the face of +Seabeck. +</P> + +<P> +"Hmm-mm—yes! I find also," he went on in his somewhat precise voice +that had earned him the nickname of "Deacon" among his punchers, "that +there are more young stock vented and rebranded than I—er—sold your +nephew. Fourteen head, to be exact. With the cattle you tell me which +were—mm-m—disposed of last night, that would make twenty-one head of +stock for which—mm-mm—I take it you are willing to pay." +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't got the money now," Marthy stated, too apathetic to be either +defiant or placating. "You c'n fix up the papers t' suit yerself. +I'll sign anything yuh want." +</P> + +<P> +"Hmm-mm—yes! A note covering the amount, with legal rate of interest, +will be—quite satisfactory, Mrs. Meilke. I shall make a lump sum at +the going price for mixed stock. If you have a blank note, I—" +</P> + +<P> +"You kin look in that desk over there," permitted Marthy. "If yuh +don't find any there, there ain't none nowhere." +</P> + +<P> +Seabeck did not find any blank notes. He found an eloquent confusion +of jumbled letters and accounts and papers, and guessed that the owner +had done some hasty sorting and straightening of his affairs. He +sighed, and his blue eyes hardened for a minute. Then Billy Louise +moved from the door and went over to kneel comfortingly beside Marthy, +and Seabeck looked at the two and sighed again, though his eyes were no +longer stern. He pulled a sheet of paper toward him and wrote steadily +in a prim, upright chirography that had never a flourish anywhere, but +carefully crossed t's and carefully dotted i's and punctuation marks of +beautiful exactness. +</P> + +<P> +"You will please sign here, Mrs. Meilke," he said calmly, coming over +to them with the sheet of paper laid smoothly upon a last-year's +best-seller and with Charlie's fountain pen in his other hand. "And if +Miss MacDonald will also sign, as an endorser, I think I can safely do +away with any mortgage or other legal security." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise stood up and gave him one look—which Seabeck did not +appreciate, because he did not see it. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd ruther give a mortgage," Marthy said uneasily, sitting up suddenly +and looking from one to the other. "I don't want Billy Louise to git +tangled up in my troubles. She's got plenty of her own. Her maw's +just died, Mr. Seabeck. And I'll bet there was a hospital 'n' doctor's +bill bigger 'n this cattle note, to be paid. I don't want to pile on—" +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Marthy, you be still. I'm perfectly willing to sign this note +with you. If it will satisfy Mr. Seabeck, I'm sure it's the very least +we can do—or—expect." Billy Louise, bless her heart, was trying very +hard to be grateful to Seabeck in spite of the slump he had suffered in +her estimation. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'll want your written word that yuh won't prosycute Charlie nor +help nobody else prosycute him," stipulated Marthy, with sudden +shrewdness. "If me 'n Billy Louise signs this note, we'll pay it; and +we want some pertection from you, fer Charlie." +</P> + +<P> +"Hmm-mm—I see!" He turned and went back to the littered desk and +wrote carefully again upon another sheet of paper. "I think this will +be quite satisfactory," he said, and handed the paper to Marthy. +</P> + +<P> +"Git my specs, Billy Louise—off 'n the shelf over there," she said, +and read the paper laboriously, her lips forming the letters of every +word which contained more than one syllable. Marthy, remember, was a +plainswoman born and bred. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess that'll do," she pronounced at last, pushing the spectacles up +on her lined forehead. "You read it, Billy Louise, 'n' see what yuh +think." +</P> + +<P> +"I think it's all right, Marthy," said Billy Louise, after she had read +the document twice. "It's a bill of sale; and it also wipes the slate +clean of any possible—I think Mr. Seabeck is very c-clever." +</P> + +<P> +Whereupon Marthy signed the note, with a spluttering of the abused pen +in her stiffened old fingers and a great twisting of her grim mouth as +she formed the capitals. Then Billy Louise wrote her name with a fine, +schoolgirl ease and a little curl on the end of the last d. Seabeck +took the paper from the tips of Billy Louise's supercilious fingers, +returned with it to the desk for a blotter, hunted an envelope, folded +the note carefully, and laid it away inside. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe that is all, Mrs. Meilke. I hope you will suffer no further +uneasiness on account of your—nephew." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm liable t' suffer some gittin' that five hundred dollars paid up," +Marthy returned with some acerbity. "I'm much obleeged to yuh, Mr. +Seabeck, fer bein' so easy on us. If yuh hadn't drug Billy Louise into +it, I'd say yer too good to be human." +</P> + +<P> +"Hmm-mm—not at all," Seabeck stammered deprecatingly and left the room +with what haste his natural dignity would permit. +</P> + +<P> +That ended the Seabeck part of the whole sordid affair, except that he +remained for another hour, doing chores and making everything snug for +the night. Also he filled the kitchen woodbox as high as he could pile +the sticks and brought water to last overnight—since Charlie's plan to +pipe water into the cabin had remained a beautiful plan and nothing +more. Billy Louise thanked Seabeck, when he was ready to go. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew you were square, and you're really big-souled, too. I'll +remember it always, Mr. Seabeck." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you?" Seabeck looked down at her, with his hand upon the latch. +"Even if you are put in a position where you must pay that note—you +will still— Hm-mm! I see. Before I go, Miss MacDonald, I should +like your permission to send a man down here to look after things." +</P> + +<P> +"No, you mustn't." Billy Louise spoke with prompt decision. "Marthy +might think you were—you see, it wouldn't do. I'll see about getting +a man. If you will take this note up and leave it in the mail-box for +me, John Pringle will come up to-morrow. We'll manage all right." +</P> + +<P> +"You're quite right. But, Miss MacDonald, there is something else. +I—er—should like to give you a little—wedding gift, since you +honored me with the news of your approaching—mm-m—marriage. As an +old neighbor, and one of your most sincere admirers, who would feel +greatly honored by your friendship, I—should like to have you accept +this—" He held something out to Billy Louise and pulled open the door +for instant escape. "Good night, Miss MacDonald. I think it will +storm." Then he was gone, hurrying down the narrow path with long +strides, his tall figure bent to the wind, his coat napping around his +lean legs. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise closed the door and her half-open mouth and let down her +lifted eyelids. Standing with her back against the wall, she turned +that something—an envelope—over twice, then tore off the end and +pulled out the contents. It was the note she and Marthy had signed no +longer than an hour ago, and written large across the face of it were +the words: "Paid, Samuel Seabeck." +</P> + +<P> +"The—old—darling!" said Billy Louise under her breath and went +straight in to show it to Marthy. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +ALL RIGHT AND COMFY +</H4> + +<P> +Seabeck was a fine weather prophet, for that time at least. It did +storm that night and the next day and the next; a howling, tearing +blizzard that carried the snow so far and so fast that it almost wore +it out; so that when the spasm was over, the land lay bleaker and +raggeder than ever, with hard-packed drifts in all the hollows and bare +ground between. Of course it was out of the question for Billy Louise +to leave the Cove while the storm lasted, so she took care of Marthy +and the pigs and chickens and cows, and between whiles she tormented +herself with direful pictures of Ward up there alone on Mill Creek. +Sometimes she saw him raving in fever and wanting a drink which he +could not get, so that thirst tortured him; then calling for her, when +she could not come. Sometimes she saw him trying to hobble somewhere +on those crutches, and falling exhausted—breaking more bones, perhaps; +or catching more cold, or something. She was a most distressed Billy +Louise, believe me, and she wished a hundred times a day that she had +stayed with Ward; she wished that, in spite of Marthy's need of her. +She was terribly sorry for Marthy; but Marthy had not broken any leg, +and besides, she was not in love with Marthy. +</P> + +<P> +On the second day John Pringle battled through the storm to see what +Billy Louise would have him do. And Billy Louise gave him instructions +about finding a man and sending him up to the Cove at once, and looking +after the Wolverine ranch until she came, and having Phoebe send up +some clothes for her. She felt better when she had set the wheels in +motion again, and as she stood in the door and watched John's broad, +stolid back out of sight on his homeward journey, she made up her mind +that she would start at daylight for Mill Creek, and she didn't care +whether it stormed or not. She simply would not leave Ward there alone +any longer. She almost wished that she had told Seabeck about Ward; he +would have sent a man over to look after him. But she was selfish, and +she wanted Ward to herself; so she had not so much as mentioned his +name to Seabeck. +</P> + +<P> +She milked the two cows by lantern light, next morning; and the pigs +did not seem to want to leave their nests when she poured their +breakfast into the trough by the wavering light she carried. She made +coffee for Marthy and took it to her in bed, and told her that she +would leave plenty of wood and kindling, and that Marthy must sleep as +long as she could and not worry about a single, living thing. She said +she must get an early start, because it might be "bad going" and she +meant to bring Ward back with her if he were able to travel at all. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't be in two places at once, Marthy, so if you don't mind, I'll +bring him down here where I can look after the two of you at the same +time. You'll let me, won't you? Or else," she added hopefully, "I'll +take you both down home. Would you rather—" +</P> + +<P> +"I'd ruther stay here where I b'long," said Marthy dully. "But I don't +want you should go t' any trouble about me, Billy Louise. I've rustled +fer m'self all my life, and I guess I kin yit. If it wa'n't fer my +rheumatiz, I'd ask no odds of anybody. I ain't goin' t' leave, anyway. +Charlie might come back, er—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you needn't leave." Billy Louise told herself that she was not +disappointed, because she had not hoped to persuade Marthy to leave the +Cove. "You don't mind if I bring Ward down here, do you, Marthy?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I don't mind nothin' you kin do," said Marthy in the same dull +tone, pouring her saucer full of coffee and spilling some on her +pillow, because her hands were not as steady as they used to be. "He +kin sleep in Charlie's room, if yuh want he should." She took two big +swallows that emptied the saucer, handed the dish to Billy Louise, and +lay down again. "I don't seem to care about nothin'," she remarked +tonelessly. "I'd jest as soon die as live. I wisht you'd send word to +Seabeck I want t' see him, Billy Louise. Oh, it ain't about Charlie," +she added harshly. "He's shet uh me, and I'm shet uh him. I—got some +other business with Seabeck. Tell him to bring a couple uh men along +with him." +</P> + +<P> +"Is there any hurry, Marthy?" Billy Louise stood holding the cup and +saucer in her two hands, and stared down anxiously at the lined old +face on the pillow. A faint, red glow was in the sky, and the +lamp-light dimmed with the coming of day. "You don't feel—badly, do +you, Marthy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Me? No, Why should I feel bad? But I want t' see Seabeck and a couple +of his men, jest as quick as you kin git word to 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"Which ones?" Billy Louise was plainly puzzled. Was Marthy going to +make him take those cattle back? It was like her. Billy Louise did +not blame her for feeling that way, either. If she had had the money, +she would have paid him herself for the cattle. +</P> + +<P> +"It don't matter which ones. You send 'im word, Billy Louise, like the +good girl yuh always have been. You've always kinda took the place of +my Minervy to me, Billy Louise; and I won't bother yuh much longer." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, of course I will! The stage will go up this forenoon. I'll send +a note to Seabeck. It won't be any bother at all. What shall I say? +Just that you want to see him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I kin write it m'self, I guess, if you'll bring me a pencil and paper. +I can't seem t' git used to a pen. I kin write all I want t' say." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise let it go at that. She brought the paper and pencil and +went after Blue, while Marthy, sitting up in bed, wrote her note. +Billy Louise was eager to start; and I don't think anyone should blame +her if she hurried Marthy a little, and if her parting words were few, +and her manner slightly abstracted. She knew just how Marthy was +feeling—or thought she did; and she was simply wild with anxiety over +Ward. +</P> + +<P> +Blue discovered before she was out of the gorge that his lady was wild +over something. Never had she come so near to being a merciless rider +as on that nippy morning. There were drifts: Blue went through them in +great lunges. There were steep hills: but there was no stopping at the +top to breathe awhile and admire the view. Billy Louise rode with an +eye upon the climbing sun, and with her mind busy adding up miles and +minutes. +</P> + +<P> +She rode up the creek trail at a long lope, and she pulled up at the +stable and slid off Blue, who was wet to his ears and moving every rib +when he breathed. (Blue was a good horse, with plenty of speed and +stamina, but Billy Louise had given him all he wanted, that morning.) +She went straight to a corner of the hay corral and stopped with her +hands clutching the top wire. +</P> + +<P> +"Ward Warren, for heaven's sake, what are you doing?" You couldn't +have told from her tone that she had been crying, a mile back, from +sheer anxiety, or that she "loved him to pieces." She sounded as if +she did not love him at all and was merely disgusted with his actions. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm trying to sink my loop on this damned buzzard-head of a horse," +Ward retorted glumly. "I've been trying for about an hour," he added, +grinning a little at his own plight. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's a lucky thing for you he won't let you," Billy Louise +informed him sternly, stooping to crawl under the bottom wire. "You've +got about as much sense as—" She did not say what. "Give me that +rope, and you take yourself and your crutches out of the corral, Mr. +Smarty. I just had a hunch you couldn't be trusted to behave yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"Brave Buckaroo got lonesome," Ward said, looking at her with eyes +alight, as he hobbled slowly toward her. "You'll have to open the gate +for me, William. Rattler'll make a break for the open if he sees a +crack as wide as your little finger." +</P> + +<P> +By then he was near enough to reach out an arm and pull her close to +him. "Oh, William girl, I'm sure glad to see you once more. I got +scared. I thought maybe I just dreamed you were here; so I tackled—" +</P> + +<P> +"You tackled more than you could handle," Billy Louise finished with +her lips close to his. "You haven't got any sense at all. You might +have known I'd come the very first minute I could." +</P> + +<P> +"I know—I know." +</P> + +<P> +"And you ought to know you mustn't try to ride Rattler, Ward. What if +he'd pitch with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"In that case, I'd pile up, I reckon. Say, William, a broken leg does +take a hell of a time to get well. But all the same, I'll top old +Rattler, all right. I'd top anything rather than spend another night +in that jail." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll ride Blue," Billy Louise told him calmly "I'm going to ride +Rattler myself." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you are—not!" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to say I can't? Do you think—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I guess you can, all right, but—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if I can, I'm going to. If you think I can't handle a measly +old skate like that—" +</P> + +<P> +"He's been running out for nearly two months, Wilhemina—" +</P> + +<P> +"And look at his ribs! If you'll just kindly go in the house while I +saddle—" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll kindly stay right here, lady-girl. You don't know Rattler—" +</P> + +<P> +"And you don't know Billy Louise MacDonald." She wrinkled her nose at +him and turned back to unsaddle Blue. "I really didn't intend to go +back right now," she said, "but seeing you've got your heart set on it, +I suppose we might as well." Then she added: "We're only going as far +as the Cove, anyway; and I really ought to hurry back to look after +Marthy. Charlie Fox and Peter pulled out and left her there all +solitary alone. I've been staying with her since I left here. I told +her we'd be down there, and stay till—further notice." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise did not give Ward much opportunity for argument. He was +too awkward with his crutches to keep up with her, and she managed to +be on the move most of the time. +</P> + +<P> +I may as well admit that she was horribly afraid of Rattler, and +horribly afraid that he and Ward would find it out. She did not hurry +much. She took plenty of time to put Ward's saddle on Blue, and when +she finally took her rope and went in after Rattler, who was regarding +her from the corner of the stack where he might run either way, she +wished that Ward was elsewhere—and she did not much care where. +</P> + +<P> +But Ward was anxious, and he stayed where he was by the corner of the +stable and swore in violent undertones because he was condemned to look +on while his Wilhemina took long chances on getting hurt. Not a move +of hers escaped his fear-sharpened eyes, while she went carelessly +close to Rattler, and then, with a quick flip, landed the loop neatly +over his head. Ward would have felt less pleased if he had known how +her heart was thumping. He saw only the whimsical twist of her lips +and thought that she was enjoying a distinctly feminine sense of +triumph at her success. +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise led Rattler boldly up to where lay her saddle and Ward's +bridle. She hoped she did not look scared, but she was wondering all +the time what Rattler would do when she "piled on"; pile her off, +probably, her pessimism told her, for Billy Louise was no lady +broncho-fighter, for all she rode so well on horses that she knew. +There is a difference. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure you want to tackle him, lady-girl?" Ward asked her, after he had +himself attended to the bridling—since Rattler was touchy about the +head. "Of course, he isn't bad, when you know him; but he's liable to +be pretty snuffy after running out so long. And he never had a woman +on him. You better let me ride him." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be silly. You couldn't even mount him, with that game leg. And +besides, don't you see I've been wanting an excuse to ride Rattler ever +since I knew you? You must have a very poor opinion of my riding." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, if you put it that way—" Ward yielded, just as she knew he +would. "I haven't a doubt but what you can handle him if you take a +notion. Only—if you got hurt—" +</P> + +<P> +"But I won't." Billy Louise braced her courage with a smile and picked +up the saddle blanket. But Ward took it from her and hobbled close +enough to adjust it. +</P> + +<P> +"He knows me," he explained meaningly. "Better let me saddle up. He +don't know but what I can cave a rib or two in, if he don't behave. +Just hand me the saddle, William, please." +</P> + +<P> +"You're only trying to scare me out," Billy Louise accused him, with a +vast relief well hidden. "I'm not a bit afraid of him." +</P> + +<P> +"All right; that'll help some." He steadied himself by the horse's +twitching shoulder while he reached carefully for the cinch. "I guess +I'm more scared than you are." +</P> + +<P> +"I know you are. I've taken too many tumbles to let the prospect of +another one worry me, anyway. Why, Blue ditched me himself, three +different times when I first began to ride him. And even yet the old +devil would like to, once in a while." Billy Louise was actually +talking herself rapidly into a feeling of confidence. +</P> + +<P> +She needed it. When she had helped Ward upon Blue—and that was not +easy, either, considering that he only had one leg fit to stand on—and +had gone to the cabin for her bag of nuggets and Ward's roll of money +which he had forgotten, and had exhausted every other excuse for delay, +she picked up Rattler's reins and wound her fingers in his mane, and +took hold of the stirrup as nonchalantly as if she were mounting Blue. +</P> + +<P> +She went up at the instant when Rattler jumped sidewise from her. She +got partly into the saddle, clung there for a few harrowing seconds, +and then went over his head and plump into a snowdrift beside the +stable. +</P> + +<P> +"Good God!" groaned Ward and went white and weak as he watched. +</P> + +<P> +"Good gracious!" grumbled Billy Louise, righting herself and digging +snow out of her collar and sleeves. "Stop your laughing, Ward Warren!" +(Ward was not laughing, and she knew it.) "I'll ride that ornery +cayuse, just to show him I can. You Rattler, I'll fix you for that!" +She turned to Ward and twisted her lips at him. "I see now why you +named him that," she said. "Because he rattles your teeth loose." +</P> + +<P> +"You keep off him!" Ward shouted sternly. +</P> + +<P> +"You keep still!" Billy Louise shouted back at him. "We're going to +find out right now who's boss." +</P> + +<P> +Whether she referred to Rattler or to his master she did not stipulate; +perhaps she meant both of them. At any rate, she caught the horse +again and mounted, a great deal more cautiously than she had at first, +in spite of Ward's threats and entreaties. She got fairly into the +saddle and stayed there—with the help of the horn and the luck that +had thus far carried her through almost anything she undertook. She +was not a bit ashamed of "pulling leather." +</P> + +<P> +"Now we're all right and comfy," she announced breathlessly, when the +first fight was over and Rattler, like his master, had yielded to the +inevitable. "And we know who's boss, and we're all of us +squindiciously happy, because we're headed for home. Aren't we, +buckaroo?" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose so," Ward mumbled doubtingly, for a moment eyeing her +sidelong. He was not quite over his scare yet. +</P> + +<P> +"And say, buckaroo!" Billy Louise reined close, so that she could +reach out and pinch his arm a little bit. "Soon as your leg is all +well, and you're every speck over the hookin'-cough, why—you can be +the boss!" +</P> + +<P> +"Can I?" +</P> + +<P> +"Honest, you can. I've"—Billy Louise had the grace to blush a +little—"I've always thought I'd love to have somebody bully me and +boss me and 'buse me. And I—" Her lips twitched a little. "I think +you can qualify. What was that you said just as I was getting on the +second time? I was too busy to listen, but—" +</P> + +<P> +"But what? I don't remember that I said anything." Ward got hold of +her free hand and held it tight. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, you did! It was sweary, too." +</P> + +<P> +"Was it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it was. You sweared at Flower of the Ranch-oh." +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise stopped at that, since Ward refused to be baited. She +sensed that there were bigger things than a "sweary" sentence in the +forefront of her buckaroo's mind. She waited. +</P> + +<P> +They came to the gate, and Billy Louise freed her hand from his clasp +and dismounted, since it was a wire gate and could not be opened on +horseback. She closed it after him, looked to her cinch, tightened it +a little, patted Rattler forgivingly on the neck, caught the horn with +one hand and the stirrup with the other, and went up quite like a man, +while Ward watched her intently. +</P> + +<P> +"'In sooth, I know not why you are so sa-ad,'" murmured Billy Louise, +when she swung alongside in the trail. +</P> + +<P> +Ward caught her hand again and did not let go; so they rode hand in +hand down the narrow valley. +</P> + +<P> +"I was wondering—" he hesitated, drawing in a corner of his lip, +biting it, and letting it go. "Wilhemina, if old Lady Fortune takes a +notion to give me another kick or two, just when life looks so good to +me—" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, we'll kick back just as hard as she does," threatened Billy +Louise courageously. "Don't let happiness get on your nerves, Ward." +</P> + +<P> +"If I wasn't crippled, it wouldn't. But when a man's down and out, +he—thinks a lot. The last three days, I've lived a whole lifetime, +lady-girl. Everything seems to be coming my way, all at once. And I'm +afraid; what if I can't make good? If I can't make you happy"—he +squeezed her fingers so that Billy Louise had to grit her teeth to keep +from interrupting him—"or if anything should happen to you—Lord! +I—I never knew what it was to be crazy scared till I saw you fall off +Rattler. I—" +</P> + +<P> +"You've got nerves, buckaroo. You've been shut up there alone so long +you see things all distorted. We're going to be happy, because we'll +be together, and we've so much to do and so much to think of. You must +realize, Ward, that we've got three places to take care of, and you and +me and poor old Marthy. She hasn't anybody, Ward, but us. And she's +changed so—got so old—just in the last few days. I never knew a +person could change so much in such a little while. She's just let go +all holds and kind of sagged down, mentally and physically. We'll have +to take care of her, Ward, as long as she lives. That's why I'm taking +you there—so we can look after her. She won't leave the Cove. I—I +was hoping," she added shyly, "that we could sit in front of our own +fireplace, Ward, and have nice cozy evenings; but—-well, there always +seems to be something for me to do for somebody, Ward." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you Wilhemina!" Ward slipped his arm around her, to the disgust +of Rattler and Blue, and made shift to kiss her twice. "Long as you +live, you'll always be doing something for somebody; that's the way +you're made. And nobody's been doing things for you; but if the Lord +lets me live, that's going to be my job from now on." +</P> + +<P> +He said a great deal more, of course. They had nearly fifteen miles to +go, and they rode at a walk; and a man and a maid can say a good deal +at such a time. But I don't think they would like to have it all +repeated. Their thoughts ranged far: back over the past and far into +the future, and clung close to the miracle of love that had brought +them together. There is one thing which Billy Louise, even in her most +self-revealing mood, did not tell Ward, and that is her doubts of him. +Never once did he dream that she had suspected him and wrung her heart +because of her suspicions—and in that I think she was wise and kind. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +They found Seabeck and Floyd Carson and another cowboy at the Cove, +just preparing to leave. Marthy, it transpired, had wanted to make her +will, so that Billy Louise would have the Cove when Marthy was done +with it. Billy Louise cried a little and argued a good deal, but +Marthy had not lost all her stubbornness, and the will stood unchanged. +</P> + +<P> +When Ward understood all of the circumstances, he hobbled into the +kitchen and signaled Seabeck to follow him; and there he counted out +five hundred dollars from his last gold-harvest and with a few crisp +sentences compelled Seabeck to accept the money. (At that, Seabeck +stood a loser by Charlie's thievery, but no one knew it save himself, +since he never mentioned the matter.) +</P> + +<P> +Billy Louise and Ward were married just as soon as Ward was able to +make the trip to the county-seat, which was just as soon as he could +walk comfortably with a cane. +</P> + +<P> +They stayed the winter in the Cove, and a part of the spring. Then +they buried grim, gray old Marthy up on the side hill near Jase, where +she had asked them to lay her work-worn body when she was gone. +</P> + +<P> +They were very busy and very happy and pretty prosperous with their +three ranches and what gold Ward washed out of the gravel-bank while +they were living up on Mill Creek, so that he could prove up on his +claim. They never heard of Charlie Fox again, or of Buck Olney—and +they never wanted to. +</P> + +<P> +If you should some time ride through a certain portion of Idaho, you +may find the tiny valley of the Wolverine and the decaying cabins which +prove how impossible it is for a couple to live in three places at +once. If you should be so fortunate as to meet Billy Louise, she might +take you through the canyon and point out to you her cave and +Minervy's. It is possible that she might also show you the washout +which always made her and Ward laugh when they passed it. And if you +ride up over the hill and along the upland and down another hill, you +cannot fail to find the entrance to the Cove; and perhaps you will like +to ride down the gorge and see the little Eden hidden away there. You +may even ride as far as Mill Creek; but you will be told, very likely, +that no one ever found any gold there. And if you should meet them, +give my regards to Billy Louise and Ward—who never calls himself a +football these days. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<I>The greatest pleasure in life is that of reading. Why not then own +the books of great novelists when the price is so small</I> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<I>Of all the amusements which can possibly be imagined for a +hard-working man, after his daily toil, or in its intervals, there is +nothing like reading an entertaining book. It calls for no bodily +exertion. It transports him into a livelier, and gayer, and more +diversified and interesting scene, and while he enjoys himself there he +may forget the evils of the present moment. Nay, it accompanies him to +his next day's work, and gives him something to think of besides the +mere mechanical drudgery of his every-day occupation—something he can +enjoy while absent, and look forward with pleasure to return to.</I> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<I>Ask your dealer for a list of the titles in Burt's Popular Priced +Fiction</I> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +<I>In buying the books bearing the A. L. Burt Company imprint you are +assured of wholesome, entertaining and instructive reading</I> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BEST OF RECENT FICTION<BR> +</H3> + +<PRE> +Adventures of Jimmie Dale. Frank L. Packard. +Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. A. Conan Doyle. +Adventures of the D. C. I. Major C. E. Russell. +Affair in Duplex 9B, The. William Johnston. +Affair at the Chateau, The. Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. +Affinities and Other Stories. Mary Roberts Rinehart. +After House, The. Mary Roberts Rinehart. +After Noon. Susan Ertz. +Ah, the Delicate Passion. Elizabeth Hall Yates. +Ailsa Page. Robert W. Chambers. +Alcatraz. Max Brand. +All at Sea. Carolyn Wells. +All the Way by Water. Elizabeth Stancy Payne. +Altar of Friendship, The. Blanche Upright. +Amateur Gentleman. Jeffery Farnol. +Amateur Inn, The. Albert Payson Terhune. +Anabel at Sea. Samuel Merwin. +An Accidental Accomplice. William Johnston. +Ancestor Jorico. William J. Locke. +And They Lived Happily Ever After. Meredith Nicholson. +Angel Esquire. Edgar Wallace. +Angel of Terror. Edgar Wallace. +Anne of the Island. L. M. Montgomery. +Anne's House of Dreams. L. M. Montgomery. +Annihilation. Isabel Ostrander. +Ann's Crime. R. T. M. Scott. +An Ordeal of Honor. Anthony Pryde. +Anything But the Truth. Carolyn Wells. +April and Sally June. Margaret Piper Chalmers. +Are All Men Alike, and The Lost Titan. Arthur Stringer +Aristocratic Miss Brewster, The. Joseph C. Lincoln. +Around Old Chester. Margaret Deland. +Arrant Rover, The. Berta Ruck. +As a Thief in the Night. R. Austin Freeman. +A Self-Made Thief. Hulbert Footner. +Astounding Crime on Torrington Road, The. William Gillette. +At Sight of Gold. Cynthia Lombardi. +At the Foot of the Rainbow. James B. Hendryx +At the Mercy of Tiberias. Augusta Evans Wilson +At the South Gate. Grace S. Richmond +Auction Block, The. Rex Beach. +Aunt Jane of Kentucky. Eliza C. Hall +Aurelius Smith—Detective. R. T. M. Scott +Autocrat, The. Pearl Doles Bell. +Aw Hell! Clarke Venable + +Bab: a Sub-Deb. Mary Roberts Rinehart. +Babe Ruth's Own Book of Baseball. George Herman Ruth. +Backwoods Princess, A. Hulbert Footner. +Bad One, The. John Farrow. +"Barabbas." Marie Corelli. +Barberry Bush. Kathleen Norris. +Barrier, The. Rex Beach. +Bars of Iron, The. Ethel M. Dell. +Bartenstein Mystery, The. J. S. Fletcher. +Bar-20. Clarence E. Mulford. +Bar-20 Days. Clarence E. Mulford. +Bar 20 Rides Again, The. Clarence E. Mulford. +Bar-20 Three. Clarence E. Mulford. +Bat Wing. Sax Rohmer. +Beauty and the Beast. Kathleen Norris. +Beauty Mask, The. H. M. Clamp. +Beginners, The. Henry Kitchell Webster. +Beg Pardon Sir! Reginald Wright Kauffman. +Bella Donna. Robert Hichens. +Bellamy Trial, The. Frances Noyes Hart. +Belonging. Olive Wadsley. +Beloved Pawn, The. Harold Titus. +Beloved Rajah, The. A. E. R. Craig. +Beloved Traitor, The. Frank L. Packard. +Beloved Vagabond, The. William J. Locke. +Beloved Woman, The. Kathleen Norris. +Beltane the Smith. Jeffery Farnol. +Benson Murder Case, The. S. S. Van Dine. +Best Ghost Stories, The. Edited by Bohun Lynch. +Beyond the Frontier. Randall Parrish. +Bigamist, The. John Jay Chichester. +Big Brother. Rex Beach. +Big Mogul, The. Joseph C. Lincoln. +Big Shot, The. Frank L. Packard. +Big Timber. Bertrand W. Sinclair. +Bill the Conqueror. P. Q. Wodehouse. +Bill—The Sheik. A. M. Williamson. +Bird of Freedom. Hugh Pendexter. +Black Abbot, The. Edgar Wallace. +Black Bartlemy's Treasure. Jeffery Farnol. +Black Bull, The. H. Bedford-Jones. +Black Buttes. Clarence E. Mulford. +Black Company, The. W. B. M. Ferguson. +Black Flemings, The. Kathleen Norris. +Black Butterflies. Elizabeth Jordan. +Black Glove, The. J. G. Sarasin. +Black Ivory. Polan Banks. +Black Magician, The. R. T. M. Scott. +Black Oxen. Gertrude Atherton. +Black Stamp, The. Will Scott. +Black Turret, The. Patrick Wynnton. +Blades. George Barr McCutcheon. +Blair's Attic. Joseph C. Lincoln and Freeman Lincoln. +Blatchington Tangle, The. G. D. H. and Margaret Cole. +Bleston Mystery, The. Robert Milward Kennedy. +Bloody Ground. Oscar J. Friend. +Blue Blood. Owen Johnson. +Blue Car Mystery, The. Natalie Sumner Lincoln. +Blue Castle, The. L. M. Montgomery. +Blue Hand. Edgar Wallace. +Blue Jay, The. Max Brand. +Bob, Son of Battle. Alfred Ollivant. +Bondwoman, The. G. U. Ellis. +Born Rich. Hughes Cornell. +Borrowed Shield, The. 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Harold Bindloss. +Bush That Burned, A. Marjorie Barclay McClure. +Buster, The. William Patterson White. +Butterfly. Kathleen Norris. + +Cabbages and Kings. O. Henry. +Cabin at the Trail's End. Sheba Hargreaves +Callahans and the Murphys. Kathleen Norris. +Calling of Dan Matthews. Harold Bell Wright. +Can Women Forget? Florence Riddell. +Cape Cod Stories. Joseph C. Lincoln. +Captain Brand of the Schooner "Centipede." Lieut. Henry A. Wise. +Cap'n Dan's Daughter. Joseph C. Lincoln. +Cap'n Eri. Joseph C. Lincoln. +Cap'n Jonah's Fortune. James A. Cooper. +Captains of Souls. Edgar Wallace. +Cap'n Sue. Hulbert Footner. +Cap'n Warren's Wards. Joseph C. Lincoln. +Cardigan. Robert W. Chambers. +Carib Gold. Ellery H. Clark. +Carnac's Folly. Sir Gilbert Parker. +Carry On, Jeeves! P. G. Wodehouse. +Case and the Girl. Randall Parrish. +Case Book of Sherlock Holmes, The. A. Conan Doyle. +Cask, The. Freeman Wills Crofts. +Cat-O'Mountain. Arthur O. Friel. +Cat's Eye, The. R. Austin Freeman. +Catspaw, The. Terry Shannon. +Cattle. Winifred Eaton Reeve. +Cattle Baron, The. Robert Ames Bennet. +Cavalier of Tennessee. Meredith Nicholson. +Celestial City, The. Baroness Orczy. +Certain Dr. Thorndyke, A. R. Austin Freeman. +Certain People of Importance. Kathleen Norris. +Chaffee of Roaring Horse. Ernest Haycox. +Chance—and the Woman. Ellis Middleton. +Charteris Mystery. A. Fielding. +Cherry Square. Grace S. Richmond. +Cheyne Mystery, The. Freeman Wills Crofts. +Child of the North. Ridgwell Cullum. +Child of the Wild. Edison Marshall. +Children of Divorce. Owen Johnson. +Chronicles of Avonlea. L. M. Montgomery. +Cinema Murder, The. E. Phillips Oppenheim. +City of Lilies, The. Anthony Pryde and R. K. Weeks. +City of Peril, The. Arthur Stringer. +City of the Sun, The. Edwin L. Sabin. +Clair De Lune. Anthony Pryde. +Clever One, The. Edgar Wallace. +Click of Triangle T. Oscar J. Friend. +Clifford Affair, The. A. Fielding. +Clock Strikes Two, The. Henry Kitchell Webster. +Clouded Pearl, The. Berta Ruck. +Cloudy in the West. William Patterson White. +Club of Masks, The. Allen Upward. +Clue of the New Pin, The. Edgar Wallace. +Clue of the Twisted Candle. Edgar Wallace. +Coast of Enchantment. Burton E. Stevenson. +Cock's Feather. Katherine Newlin Burt. +Cold Harbour. Francis Brett Young. +Colorado Jim. George Goodchild. +Come Home. Stella G. S. Perry. +Coming of Cassidy, The. Clarence E. Mulford. +Coming of Cosgrove, The. Laurie Y. Erskine. +Coming of the Law, The. Charles A. Selzer. +Communicating Door, The. Wadsworth Camp. +Concerning Him. Introduced by the writer of "To M. L. G." +Confidence Man, The. Laurie Y. Erskine. +Conquest of Canaan, The. Booth Tarkington. +Conquering Lover, The. Pamela Wynne. +Conqueror Passes, A. Larry Barretto. +Constant Nymph, The. Margaret Kennedy. +Contraband. Clarence Budington Kelland. +Copper Moon. Edwin Bateman Morris. +Corbin Necklace, The. Henry Kitchell Webster. +Corsican Justice. J. G. Sarasin. +Corson of the J. C. Clarence E. Mulford. +Cottonwood Gulch. Clarence E. Mulford. +Court of Inquiry, A. Grace S. Richmond. +Cow Woman, The. George Gilbert. +Crime at Red Towers. Chester K. Steele. +Crime in the Crypt, The. Carolyn Wells. +Crimson Circle, The. Edgar Wallace. +Crooked. Maximilian Foster. +Crooked Cross, The. Charles J. Dutton. +Crook's Shadow, The. J. Jefferson Farjeon. +Cross Trails. Harold Bindloss. +Cruel Fellowship. Cyril Hume. +Cryder of the Big Woods. George C. Shedd. +Cry in the Wilderness, A. Mary E. Wilier. +Crystal Cup, The. Gertrude Athenon. +Cup of Fury, The. Rupert Hughes. +Curious Quest, The. E. Phillips Oppenheim. +</PRE> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="transnote"> +[Transcriber's note: the catalog listing ended here.] +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Ranch at the Wolverine, by B. M. 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