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diff --git a/29131.txt b/29131.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4af6aa --- /dev/null +++ b/29131.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11366 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Out of the Depths, by Robert Ames Bennet, +Illustrated by George Brehm + + +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: Out of the Depths + A Romance of Reclamation + + +Author: Robert Ames Bennet + + + +Release Date: June 15, 2009 [eBook #29131] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUT OF THE DEPTHS*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 29131-h.htm or 29131-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29131/29131-h/29131-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29131/29131-h.zip) + + +Transcriber's note: + + The author consistently refers to a handgun as a "Colt's." + This is a Colt's revolver, though the word "revolver" is + not used. + + + + + +OUT OF THE DEPTHS + +A Romance of Reclamation + +by + +ROBERT AMES BENNET + +Author of "Out of the Primitive," "The Shogun's Daughter," +"Which One," Etc. + +With Illustrations by George Brehm + + + + + + + +[Illustration: It was a wild race [_Page 32_]] + + + + +Chicago +A. C. McClurg & Co. +1913 + +Copyright +A. C. McClurg & Co. +1913 + +Published March, 1913 + +Copyrighted in Great Britain + +Press of the Vail Company +Coshocton, U. S. A. + + + + +TO + +"THE SONS OF MARTHA" + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. Deep Canyon 1 + II. A Yearling Sold 9 + III. Queen of What? 20 + IV. Downhill and Up 32 + V. Into the Depths 39 + VI. A Test of Caliber 52 + VII. The Chance of Reclamation 68 + VIII. A Man's Size Horse 81 + IX. The Snake 93 + X. Coming Events 110 + XI. Self-Defense 125 + XII. The Meeting 138 + XIII. The Other Lady's Husband 148 + XIV. A Descent 162 + XV. Levels and Slants 176 + XVI. Metal and Mettle 185 + XVII. A Shot in the Dusk 197 + XVIII. On the Brink 207 + XIX. The Plotters 218 + XX. Indian Shoes 232 + XXI. Madonna Dolorosa 244 + XXII. A Real Wolf 254 + XXIII. The Temptation 268 + XXIV. Blind Love 280 + XXV. The Descent Into Hell 291 + XXVI. In the Gloom 303 + XXVII. Lower Depths 315 + XXVIII. Light in the Darkness 327 + XXIX. The Climber 339 + XXX. Lurking Beasts 349 + XXXI. Confessions 357 + XXXII. Over the Brink 366 + XXXIII. Friends in Need 374 + XXXIV. Reclamation 388 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + PAGE + + It was a wild race _Frontispiece_ + + It sounded its shrill, menacing rattle 106 + + "You have something to tell me--your voice--your + eyes--" 286 + + Another desperate clutch at the rope--still another 328 + + + + +OUT OF THE DEPTHS + +CHAPTER I + +DEEP CANYON + + +The hunter was riding leisurely up the steep mountain side above Dry +Mesa. On such an ascent most city men would have preferred to climb +afoot. But there was a month's layer of tan on the hunter's handsome, +supercilious face. He balanced himself lightly on his flat English +saddle, and permitted the wiry little cow pony to pick the best path +over the ledges and up the stiff slopes between the scattered pines. + +In keeping with his saddle, the hunter wore English riding breeches +and leggins. Otherwise he was dressed as a Texas cowboy of the past +generation. His sombrero was almost Mexican in its size and +ornateness. But his rifle was of the latest American pattern, and in +place of the conventional Colt's he carried an automatic pistol. As +his horse patiently clambered with him up towards the top of the +escarpment the man gazed indolently about between half-closed eyelids +and inhaled the smoke from an unbroken "chain" of gilt-tipped +cigarettes. + +The pony scrambled up the last ledges and came to a halt on the rim of +High Mesa. It had been a long, hard climb. Tough as he was and +mountain bred, the beast's rough coat was lathered with sweat and his +flanks were heaving. The hunter's gaze roamed carelessly over the +hilly pine-clad plateau of the upper mesa, while he took a nip of +brandy from a silver-cased flask and washed it down with a drink of +the tepid water in his canteen. + +Having refreshed himself, he touched a patent lighter to another +cigarette, chose a direction at random, and spurred his pony into a +canter. The beast held to the pace until the ascent of a low but steep +ridge brought him down to a walk. With the change of gait the hunter +paused in the act of lighting a fresh cigarette, to gaze up at the +sapphire sky. The air was reverberating with a muffled sound like +distant thunder. Yet the crystal-clear dome above him showed no trace +of a cloud all across from the magnificent snowy ranges on the east +and north to the sparsely wooded mountains and sage-gray mesas to the +south and west. + +"Can't be thunder," he murmured--"no sign of a storm. Must be a +stream. Ah! cool, fresh water!" + +The sharp-roweled spurs goaded the pony up over the round of the ridge +as fast as he could scramble. At the top he broke into a lope and +raced headlong down the other side of the ridge through the tall +brush. The reverberating sound of water was clearer but still muffled +and distant. + +The rider let his reins hang slack and recklessly dug in his spurs. +The pony leaped ahead with still greater speed and burst out of the +brush on to a narrow open slope that led down to the brink of a canyon. +The hunter saw first the precipice on the far side of the yawning +chasm--then the near edge, seemingly, to his startled gaze, right +under his horse's forefeet. He was dashing straight at the frightful +abyss. + +A yell of terror burst from his lips, and he sought to fling himself +backwards and sideways out of the saddle. His instinctive purpose was +to fall to the ground and clutch the grass tufts. But in the same +moment that he tried to throw himself off, the nimble pony swerved to +the left so abruptly that the man's effort served only to keep himself +balanced on the saddle. Had he remained erect or flung himself to the +other side he must have been hurled off and down over the precipice. + +Nor was the danger far from past. Carried on down the slope by the +momentum of their headlong rush, the plunging pony "skidded" to the +very brink of the precipice. Though the man shrank down and sought to +avert his face, he caught a glimpse of the black depths below them as, +snorting with fear, the pony wrenched himself around on the rim shelf +of the edge. + +For an instant--an instant that was an age of sickening suspense to +his rider--the pony toppled. But before the man could shriek out his +horror, the agile beast had recovered his balance and was scrambling +around, away from the edge. He plunged a few yards up the slope, and +stopped, wheezing and blowing. + +The man flung the reins over the pony's head and slipped to the +ground. For a minute or longer he lay outstretched, limp and +white-faced. When he looked up, the pony was stolidly cropping a tuft +of grass. Beasts are not often troubled with imagination. The hunter +remembered his brandy flask. After two long pulls at its contents, the +vivid coloring began to return to his cheeks. + +He rose to his feet and walked down to a ledge on the brink of the +precipice with an air of bravado. But when he looked over into the +chasm, he quickly shrank back and crouched on his hands and knees. +Before again peering over he stretched himself out flat on the level +ledge and grasped an out-jutting point of rock. + +Beneath his dizzy eyes the precipitous sides of the canyon dropped away +seemingly into the very bowels of the earth,--far down in sheer +unbroken walls of black rock for hundreds and thousands of feet. He +flattened closer to the rock on which he lay, and sought to pierce +with his gaze the blue-black shadows of the stupendous rift. Every +nerve in his body tingled; his ankles ached with the exquisite pain of +that overpowering sight. + +The chasm was so narrow and its depth so great that only in one place +did the noonday sun strike down through its gloomy abyss to the +bottom. At that single spot he could distinguish the foam and flash of +the rushing waters, but elsewhere his only evidence of the sunken +torrent beneath him was the ceaseless reverberations that came rolling +up out of the depths. + +"_Mon Dieu!_" he muttered. "To think I came so near--!... Must be what +they call Deep Canyon." + +He crept away from the brink. As he rose to his feet his trembling +fingers automatically placed a cigarette between his lips and applied +the patent lighter. Soothed by the narcotic, he stood gazing across at +the far side of the canyon while he sucked in and slowly exhaled the +smoke. With the last puff he touched a fresh cigarette to the butt of +the first, thrust it between his lips, and snipped the cork stub over +the edge into the canyon. + +"There you are--take that!" he mocked the abyss. + +As he turned away he drew out an extremely thin gold watch. The +position of the hour hand brought a petulant frown to his white +forehead. He hastened to mount his pony. Short as had been the rest, +the wiry little animal had regained his wind and strength. Stung by +the spurs, he plunged up the side of the ridge and loped off along +its level top, parallel with the canyon. + +The hunter drew his rifle from its saddle sheath and began to +scrutinize the country before him in search of game. A pair of +weather-beaten antlers so excited him that he even forgot to maintain +his chain of cigarettes. His dark eyes shone bright and eager and his +full red lips grew tense in resolute lines that completely altered the +previous laxity of his expression. + +He had covered nearly a mile when he was rewarded for his alertness by +a glimpse of a large animal in the chaparral thicket before him. He +drew rein to test the wind in approved book hunter fashion. There was +not a breath of air stirring. The mesa lay basking in the dry, hot +stillness of the July afternoon. He set the safety catch of his rifle, +ready for instant firing, stretched himself flat on his pony's neck, +and started on. + +The animal in the thicket moved slowly to the right, as if grazing. At +frequent intervals the hunter caught glimpses of its roan side, but +could not see its head or the outline of its body. At seventy-five +yards, fearful that his game might take fright and bolt, he turned his +horse sideways, and slipped down to aim his rifle across the saddle. +It was his first deer. He waited, twitching and quivering with "buck +fever." + +Part of the fore quarters of the animal became visible to his excited +gaze through a small gap in the screening bushes. The muzzle of his +rifle wobbled all around the mark. Unable to steady it, he caught the +sights as they wavered into line, and pulled the trigger. + +The report of the shot was followed by a loud _bawl_ and a violent +crashing in the thicket. There could be no doubt that the animal had +been hit and was seeking to escape. It was running across the top of +the ridge towards the canyon. The hunter sprang around the head of his +pony and threw up his rifle, which had automatically reloaded itself. +As it came to his shoulder, the wounded animal burst out of cover. It +was a yearling calf. + +But the sportsman knew that he had shot a deer, and a deer was all he +saw. He was now fairly shaking with the "fever." His finger crooked +convulsively on the automatic firing lever. Instantly a stream of +bullets began to pour from the wildly wavering muzzle, and empty +shells whirred up from the ejector like hornets. + +Before the hunter could realize what was happening, his magazine was +exhausted, the last cartridge fired, and the shell flipped out. But he +paid no heed to this. His eyes were on the fleeing calf. His +cartridges were smokeless. Through the slight haze above his rifle +muzzle he saw the animal pitch forward and fall heavily upon the round +of the ridge. It did not move. + +Tugging at the bridle to quicken his horse's pace, he hastened forward +to examine his game. He was still so excited that he was almost upon +the outstretched carcass before he noticed the odd scar on its side. +He bent down and saw that the mark was a cattle brand seared on the +hide with a hot iron. + +His first impulse was to jump on his pony and ride off. He was about +to set his foot in the stirrup when the apprehensive glance with which +he was peering around shifted down to the canyon. His gaze traveled +back from the near edge of the chasm, up the two hundred yards of +slope, and rested on the yearling as though estimating its weight. + +It was a fat, thoroughbred Hereford. He could not lift it on his pony, +and he had no rope to use as a drag-line. He shook his head. But the +pause had given him time to recover from his panic. He shrugged his +shoulders, drew a silver-handled hunting knife, and awkwardly set +about dressing his kill. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A YEARLING SOLD + + +Three riders came galloping along the ridge towards the hunter. At +sight of his pony the grizzled cowman in the lead signed to his +companions and came to a sudden stop behind a clump of service-berry +bushes. The others swerved in beside him, the bowlegged young puncher +on the right with his hand at his hip. + +"Jumping Jehosaphat!" he exulted. "We shore have got him, Mr. Knowles, +the blasted--" His thin lips closed tight to shut in the oath as he +turned his gaze on the lovely flushed face of the girl beside him. +When his cold gray eyes met hers they lighted with a glow like that of +fire through ice. + +"You better stay here, Miss Chuckie," he advised. "We're going to cure +that rustler." + +"But, Kid, what if--No, no! wait!" she cried at sight of his drawn +Colt's. "Daddy, stop him! The man may not be a rustler." + +"You heard the shooting," answered the cowman. + +"Yes, but he may have been after a deer," answered the girl, lifting +her lithe figure tiptoe in the stirrups of her man's saddle to peer +over the bushes. + +"Deer?" rejoined the puncher. "Who'd be deer-hunting in July?" + +"Then a bear. He fired fast enough," remarked the girl. + +"Not much chance of that round here," said the cowman. "Still, it +might be. At any rate, Kid, this time I want you to wait for me to ask +questions _before_ you cut loose." + +"If he don't try any funny business," qualified the puncher. + +"Course," assented Knowles. "Chuckie, you best stay back here." + +"Oh, no, Daddy. There's only one man and between you and Kid--" + +"_Sho!_ Come on, then, if you're set on it. Kid, you circle to the +right." + +The puncher wheeled his horse and rode off around the chaparral. The +girl and Knowles, after a short wait, advanced upon the hunter. They +were soon within a few yards of him and in plain view. His pony +stopped browsing and raised its head to look at them. But the man was +stooped over, with his face the other way, and the incessant, +reverberating roar of the canyon muffled the tread of their horses on +the dusty turf. + +The puncher crashed through the corner of the thicket and pulled up on +the top of the slope immediately opposite the hunter. The latter +sprang to his feet. The puncher instantly covered him with his +long-barreled revolver and snapped tersely: "Hands up!" + +"My--ante!" gasped the hunter. "A--a road agent!" + +But he did not throw up his hands. With the rash bravery of +inexperience, he dropped his knife and snatched out his automatic +pistol. On the instant the puncher's big revolver roared. The pistol +went spinning out of the hunter's hand. Through the smoke of the shot +the puncher leveled his weapon. + +"Put up your hands!--put them up!" screamed the girl, urging her horse +forward. + +The hunter obeyed, none too soon. For several moments he stood rigid, +glaring half dazed at the revolver muzzle and the cool hard face +behind it. Then slowly he twisted about to see who it was had warned +him. The girl had ridden up within a few feet. + +"You--you _tenderfoot_!" she flung at him. "Are you locoed? Hadn't you +any more sense than to do that? Why, if Daddy hadn't told Mr. Gowan to +wait--" + +"You shore would have got yours, you--rustler!" snapped the puncher. +"It was you, though, Miss Chuckie--your being here." + +"But he's not a rustler, Kid," protested the girl. "Where are your +eyes? Look at his riding togs. If they're not tenderfoot, howling +tenderfoot--!" + +"Just the same, honey, he's shot a yearling," said Knowles, frowning +at the culprit. "Suppose you let me do the questioning." + +"Ah--pardon me," remarked the hunter, rebounding from apprehension to +easy assurance at sight of the girl's smile. "I would prefer to be +third-degreed by the young lady. Permit me to salute the Queen of the +Outlaws!" + +He bent over the fingers of one hand to raise his silver-banded +sombrero by its high peak. It left his head--and a bullet left the +muzzle of the puncher's revolver. A hole appeared low down in the side +of the sombrero. + +"That'll do, Kid," ordered the cowman. "No more hazing, even if he is +a tenderfoot." + +"Tenderfoot?" replied Gowan, his mouth like a straight gash across his +lean jaws. "How about his drawing on me--and how about your yearling? +That bullet went just where it ought to 've gone with his hat down on +his head." + +There was no jesting even of the grimmest quality in the puncher's +look and tone. He was very cool and quiet--and his Colt's was leveled +for another shot. + +The hunter thrust up his hands as high as he could reach. + +"You--you surely can't intend to murder me!" he stammered, staring from +the puncher to the cowman. "I'll pay ransom--anything you ask! Don't let +him shoot me! I'm Lafayette Ashton--I'll pay thousands--anything! My +father is George Ashton, the great financier!" + +"New York?" queried Knowles. + +"No, no, Chicago! He--If only you'll write to him!" + +The girl burst into a ringing laugh. "Oh!" she cried, the moment she +could speak, "Oh, Daddy! don't you see? He really thinks we're a bunch +of wild and woolly bandits!" + +The hunter looked uncertainly from her dimpled face to Gowan's ready +revolver. Turning sharply about to the cowman, he caught him in a +reluctant grin. With a sudden spring, he placed the girl between +himself and the scowling puncher. Behind this barrier of safety he +swept off his hat and bowed to the girl with an exaggerated display of +politeness that hinted at mockery. + +"So it's merely a cowboy joke," he said. "I bend, not to the Queen of +the Outlaws, but to the Princess of the Cows!" + +Her dimples vanished. She looked over his head with the barest shade +of disdain in her expression. + +"The joke came near to being on us," she said. "Kid, put up your gun. +A tenderfoot who has enough nerve and no more sense than to draw when +you have the drop on him, you've hazed him enough." + +Gowan sullenly reloaded his Colt's and replaced it in its holster. + +"That's right," said Knowles; but he turned sharply upon the offender. +"Look here, Mr. Ashton, if that's your name--there's still the matter +of this yearling. Shooting stock in a cattle country isn't any +laughing matter." + +"But, I say," replied the hunter, "I didn't know it was your cow, +really I didn't." + +"Doesn't make any difference whose brand was on the calf. Even if it +had been a maverick--" + +"But that's it!" interrupted Ashton. "I didn't see the brand--only +glimpses of the beast in the chaparral. I thought it a deer until +after it fell and I came up to look." + +"You shore did," jeered Gowan. "That's why you was hurrying to yank +off the hide. No chance of proving a case on you with the brand down +in Deep Canyon." + +"Indeed no," replied Ashton, drawing a trifle closer to the girl's +stirrup. "You are quite wrong--quite. I was dressing the animal to +take it to my camp. Because I had mistaken it for a deer was no reason +why I should leave it to the coyotes." + +"What business you got hunting deer out of season?" questioned +Knowles. + +"Pardon me, but are you the game warden?" asked Ashton, with a +supercilious smile. + +"Never you mind about that," rejoined the cowman. "Just you answer my +question." + +Ashton shrugged, and replied in a bored tone: "I fail to see that it +is any of your affair. But since you are so urgent to learn--I prefer +to enjoy my sport before the rush of the open season." + +"Don't you know it's against the law?" exclaimed the girl. + +"Ah--as to that, a trifling fine--" drawled the hunter, again +shrugging. + +"Humph!" grunted Knowles. "A fine might get you off for deer. Shooting +stock, though, is a penitentiary offense--when the criminal is lucky +enough to get into court." + +"Criminal!" repeated Ashton, flushing. "I have explained who I am. My +father could buy out this entire cattle country, and never know it. +I'll do it myself, some day, and turn the whole thing into a game +preserve." + +"When you do," warned Gowan, "you'd better hunt a healthier climate." + +"What we're concerned with now," interposed Knowles, "is this +yearling." + +"The live or the dead one, Daddy?" asked the girl, her cheeks +dimpling. + +"What d'you--Aw--_haw! haw! haw!_--The live or the dead one! Catch +that, Kid? The live or the dead one! _Haw! haw! haw!_" + +The cowman fairly roared with laughter. Neither of the young men +joined in his hilarious outburst. Gowan waited, cold and unsmiling. +Ashton stiffened with offended dignity. + +"I told you that the shooting of the animal was unintentional," he +said. "I shall settle the affair by paying you the price usually asked +for veal." + +"You will?" said the cowman, looking down at the indignant tenderfoot +with a twinkle in his mirth-reddened eyes. "Well, we don't usually +sell veal on the range. But I'll let you have this yearling at cutlet +prices. Fifty dollars is the figure." + +"Why, Daddy," interrupted the girl, "half that would be--" + +"On the hoof, yes; but he's buying dressed veal," broke in the cowman, +and he smiled grimly at the culprit. "Fifty dollars is cheap for a +deer hunter who goes round shooting up the country out of season. He +can take his choice--pay for his veal or make a trip to the county +seat." + +"That's talking, Mr. Knowles," approved Gowan. "We'll corral him at +Stockchute in that little log calaboose. He'll have a peach of a time +talking the jury out of sending him up for rustling." + +"This is an outrage--rank robbery!" complained Ashton. "Of course you +know I will pay rather than be inconvenienced by an interruption of +my hunting." He thrust his slender hand into his pocket, and drew it +out empty. + +"Dead broke!" jeered Gowan. + +Ashton shrugged disdainfully. "I have money at my camp. If that is not +enough to pay your blackmail, my valet has gone back to the railway +with my guide for a remittance of a thousand dollars, which must have +come on a week ago." + +"Your camp is at the waterhole on Dry Fork," stated Knowles. "Saw a +big smoke over there--tenderfoot's fire. Well, it's only five miles, +and we can ride down that way. We'll go to your camp." + +"Ye-es?" murmured Ashton, his ardent eyes on the girl. "Miss--er--Chuckie, +it is superfluous to remark that I shall vastly enjoy a cross-country +ride with you." + +"Oh, really!" she replied. + +Heedless of her ironical tone, he turned a supercilious glance on +Knowles. "Yes, and at the same time your papa and his hired man can +take advantage of the opportunity to deliver my veal." + +"What's that?" growled the cowman, flushing hotly. + +But the girl burst into such a peal of laughter that his scowl relaxed +to an uncertain smile. + +"Well, what's the joke, honey?" he asked. + +"Oh! oh! oh!" she cried, her blue eyes glistening with mirthful +tears. "Don't you see he's got you, Daddy? You didn't sell him his +meat on the hoof. You've got to dress and deliver his cutlets." + +"By--James!" vowed Gowan. "Before I'll butcher for such a knock-kneed +tenderfoot I'll see him, in--" + +"Hold your hawsses, Kid," put in Knowles. "The joke's on me. You go on +and look for that bunch of strays, if you want to. But I'm not going +to back up when Chuckie says I'm roped in." + +Gowan looked fixedly at Ashton and the girl, swore under his breath, +and swung to the ground. He came down beside the calf with the +waddling step of one who has lived in the saddle from early childhood. +Knowles joined him, and they set to work on the calf without paying +any farther heed to the tenderfoot. + +Ashton, after fastidiously wiping his hands on a wisp of grass, placed +his hunting knife in his belt and his rifle in its saddle sheath. He +next picked up his pistol, but after a single glance at the side +plate, smashed in by Gowan's first shot, he dropped the ruined weapon +and rather hurriedly mounted his pony. + +The girl had faced away from the partly butchered carcass. As Ashton +rode around alongside, her pony started to walk away. Instead of +reining in, she glanced demurely at Ashton, and called over her +shoulder: "Daddy, we'll be riding on ahead. You and Kid have the +faster hawsses." + +"All right," acquiesced Knowles, without pausing in his work. + +Gowan said nothing; but he glanced up at the jaunty back of the +tenderfoot with a look of cold enmity. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +QUEEN OF WHAT? + + +Heedless of the men behind him, Ashton rode off with his ardent gaze +fixed admiringly upon his companion. The more he looked at her the +more astonished and gratified he was to have found so charming a girl +in this raw wilderness. + +As a city man, he might have considered the healthy color that glowed +under the tan of her cheeks a trifle too pronounced, had it not been +offset by the delicate mold of her features. Her eyes were as blue as +alpine forget-me-nots. + +Though she sat astride and the soft coils of her chestnut hair were +covered with a broad-brimmed felt hat, he was puzzled to find that +there really was nothing of the Wild West cowgirl in her costume and +bearing. Her modest gray riding dress was cut in the very latest +style. If her manner differed from that of most young ladies of his +acquaintance, it was only in her delightful frankness and total +absence of affectation. Yet she could not be a city girl on a visit, +for she sat her horse with the erect, long-stirruped, graceful, +yielding seat peculiar to riders of the cattle ranges. + +"Do you know," he gave voice to his curiosity, as she directed their +course slantingly down the ridge away from Deep Canyon, "I am simply +dying to learn, Miss Chuckie--" + +"Perhaps you had better make it 'Miss Knowles,'" she suggested, with a +quiet smile that checked the familiarity of his manner. + +"Ah, yes--pardon me!--'Miss Knowles,' of course," he murmured. "But, +you know, so unusual a name--" + +"You mean Chuckie?" she asked. "It formerly was quite common in the +West--was often used as a nickname. My real name is Isobel. I +understand that Chuckie comes from the Spanish Chiquita." + +"Chiquita!" he exclaimed. "But that is not a regular name. It is only +a term of endearment, like Nina. And you say Chuckie comes from +Chiquita? Chiquita--dear one!" + +His large dark eyes glowed at her brilliant with audacious admiration. +Her color deepened, but she replied with perfect composure: "You see +why I prefer to be addressed as 'Miss Knowles'--by you." + +"Yet you permitted that common cowpuncher to call you Miss Chuckie." + +The girl smiled ironically. "For one thing, Mr. Ashton, I have known +Kid Gowan over eight years, and, for another, he is hardly a _common_ +cowpuncher." + +"He looks ordinary enough to me." + +"Well, well!" she rallied. "I should have thought that even to the +innocent gaze of a tenderfoot--Let me hasten to explain that the +common or garden variety of cowshepherd is to be distinguished in many +respects from his predecessor of the Texas trail." + +"Texas trail?" he rejoined. "Now I know you're trying to string me. +This Gowan can't be much older than I am." + +The girl dropped her bantering tone, and answered soberly: "He is only +twenty-five, and yet he is a full generation older than you. He was +born and raised in a cow camp. He is one of the few men of the type +that remain to link the range of today with the vanished world of the +cattle frontier." + +"Yet you say that the fellow is only my age?" + +"In years, yes. But in type he belongs to the generation that is +past--the generation of longhorns, long drives, long Colt's, and short +lives; of stampedes, and hats like yours, badmen, and Injins." + +"Surely you cannot mean that this--You called him 'Kid.'" + +"Kid Gowan," she confirmed. "Yes, he holds to the old traditions even +in that. There are six notches on the hilt of his 'gun,' if you count +the two little ones he nicked for his brace of Utes." + +"What! He is a real Indian fighter, like Kit Carson?" + +"Oh, no, it was merely a band of hide hunters that came over the line +from Utah, and Mr. Gowan helped the game warden run them back to their +reservation." + +"He actually killed two of them?" + +"Yes," replied the girl, her gravity deepening to a concerned frown. +"The worst of it is that I'm not altogether certain it was necessary. +Men out here, as a rule, think much too little of the life of an +Indian." + +"Ah!" murmured Ashton. "Two Indians. But didn't you speak of six +notches?" + +"Six," confirmed the girl, her brow partly clearing. "The others were +different. Three were rustlers. The sheriff's posse overtook them. +Both sides were firing. Kid circled around and shot three. He happened +to have a long-range rifle. Daddy says they threw up their hands when +the first one fell; but Kid explained to me that he was too far away +to see it." + +"Ah!" murmured Ashton the second time, and he put up his hand to the +hole in the front of his sombrero. + +"The last was two years ago," went on the girl. "There was a dispute +over a maverick. Kid was tried and acquitted on his plea of +self-defense. There were no witnesses. He claimed that the other man +drew first. Two empty shells were found in the other man's revolver, +and only one in Kid's. That cleared him." + +Ashton took off his hat and stared at the holes where the heavy +forty-four bullet had gone in and gone out. He was silent. + +"You see, poor Kid has been unfortunate," remarked the girl, as she +headed her pony down over the edge of the mesa. "That time with the +rustlers, all the posse were firing, and he just happened to be the +one that got the best aim; and the time with the Indians, I'm sure he +did not shoot to kill. It just happened that way. He told me so +himself." + +Ashton ran his tongue over his lip. "Yes--I suppose so," he muttered. + +"Kid has all the good qualities and only a few of the faults of the +old-time cowboys," went on the girl. "He is almost fiercely loyal to +Daddy's interests. That's why he led a raid on a sheep outfit, four +years ago, when almost half of a large flock were run over into Deep +Canyon--poor innocent beasts! Daddy was furious with Kid; but there was +no legal proof as to who were members of the attacking party, and the +sheep were destroying our range. All of Daddy's cattle would have +starved." + +"He was not punished?" murmured Ashton. + +"Daddy could not be expected to discharge him, could he, when Kid did +it to save our range? You see, it was just because he was so very +loyal. You must not think from these things that he--It is true he is +suspicious of strangers, but he always has been very kind and gentle +to me. I am very fond of him." + +"You are?" exclaimed Ashton, stirred from his uneasy depression. "I +should hardly have thought him the kind to interest a girl like you." + +"Really?" she bantered. "Why not? I have lived on the range ever since +I was fourteen." + +He stared at her incredulously. "Since you were fourteen?" + +"For nine years," she added, smiling at his astonishment. + +"But--it can't be," he protested, his eyes on her stylish costume. "At +least, not all the time." + +She nodded at him encouragingly. "So you _can_ see--a little. Nearly +all my winters have been spent in Denver, except one in Europe." + +"Europe?" he repeated. + +"We didn't cross in a cattle boat," she flashed back at him, dimpling +mischievously. "Nor did I go as the Queen of the Rancho, or of the +Roundup, or even of the Wild and Woolly Outlaw Band." + +He flushed with mortification. "I am only too well aware, Miss +Knowles, how you must regard me." + +"Oh, I do not regard you at all--as yet," she bantered. "But of course +I could not expect you to know that Daddy's sister is one of the +Sacred Thirty-six." + +"Sacred--? Is that one of the orders of nuns?" + +"None whatever," she punned. In the same moment she drew a most +solemn looking face. "My deah Mistah Ashton, I will have you to +understand my reference was to that most select coterie which +comprises Denver's Real Society." + +"Indeed!" he said, with a subtle alteration in his tone and manner. +"You say that your aunt is one of--" + +"My aunt by adoption," she corrected. + +"Adoption?" + +"I am not Daddy's natural daughter. He adopted me," explained the girl +in her frank way. + +"Yes?" asked Ashton, plainly eager to learn more of her history. + +Without seeming to observe this, she adroitly balked his curiosity--"So, +you see, Daddy's sister is only my aunt by adoption. Still, she has been +very, very good to me; though I love Daddy and this free outdoor +life so much that I insist on coming back home every spring." + +"Ah, yes, I see," he replied. "Really, Miss Knowles, you must think me +a good deal of a dub." + +"Oh, well, allowances should be made for a tenderfoot," she bantered. + +"At least I recognized your queenliness, even if at first I did +mistake what you were queen of," he thrust back. + +"So you still insist I'm a queen? Of what, pray?" + +"Of Hearts!" he answered with fervor. + +His daring was rewarded with a lovely blush. But she was only +momentarily disconcerted. + +"I am not so sure of that," she replied. "Though it's not Queen of +Spades, because I do not have to work; and it can't be Diamonds, +because Daddy is no more than comfortably well to do--only six +thousand head of stock. But as for Hearts--No, I'm sure it must be +Clubs; I do so love to knock around. Really, if ever they break up +this range, it will break my heart same time." + +"Break up the range? How do you mean?" + +"Put it under irrigation and turn it into orchards and farms, as they +have done so many places here on the Western Slope. You know, Colorado +apples and peaches are fast becoming famous even in Europe." + +"I do not wonder, not in the least--if I am to judge from a certain +sample of the Colorado peach," he ventured. + +This time she did not blush. "I am quite serious, Mr. Ashton," she +reproved him. "Daddy owns only five sections. The rest of his range is +public land. If settlers should come in and homestead it, he would +have to quit the cattle business. You cannot realize how fearfully we +are watching the irrigation projects--all the Government reclamation +work, and the private dams, too. There seems to be no water that can +be put on Dry Mesa, yet the engineers are doing such wonderful things +these days." + +Ashton straightened on his saddle. "That is quite true, Miss Knowles. +You know, I myself am an engineer." + +"Oh!" she exclaimed in dismay. "You, an engineer? Have you come here +to see if our mesa can be irrigated?" + +"No, indeed, no, I shall not do that," he replied. "I have not the +slightest thought of such a project. I am merely out for sport." + +She eyed him uncertainly. "But--We get all the reports--There is an +Ashton connected with that wonderful Zariba Dam, just being finished +in Arizona." + +"That is my father. He is interested in it with a Mr. Leslie. They are +financing the project. But I have nothing to do with it, nothing +whatever, I assure you. The engineer is another man, a fellow +named--" + +He paused as if unable to remember. The girl looked at him with a +shade of disappointment in her clear eyes. + +"A Mr. Blake--Thomas Blake," she supplied the name. "I thought you +might have known him." + +"Ah--Blake?" he murmured hesitatingly. "Why, yes, I did at one time +have somewhat of an acquaintance with him." + +"You did?" she cried, her eyes brilliant with excitement. "Oh, tell +me! I--" She faltered under his surprised stare, and went on rather +lamely: "You see, I--we have been immensely interested in the Zariba +Dam. The reports all describe it as an extraordinary work of +engineering. And so we have been curious to learn something about the +engineer." + +"But if you're so opposed to irrigation projects?" he thrust. + +"That makes no difference," she parried. "We--Daddy and I--cannot but +admire such a remarkable engineer." + +Ashton shrugged. "The dam was a big thing. I fail to see why you +should admire Blake just because he happened to blunder on the idea +that solved the difficulty." + +"You do not like him," she said with frank directness. + +He hesitated and looked away. When he replied it was with evident +reluctance: "No, I do not. He is--You would hardly admire him +personally, even though he did bully Genevieve Leslie into marrying +him." + +"He is married?" exclaimed the girl. + +"No wonder you are surprised," said Ashton. "It was the most amazing +thing imaginable--she the daughter of H. V. Leslie, one of our +wealthiest financiers, and he a rough, uncouth drunkard." + +"Drunkard?" almost screamed the girl. "No, no, not drunkard! I cannot +believe it!" + +"He certainly was one until just before Genevieve married him," +insisted Ashton. "I hear he has managed to keep sober since." + +"O-o-oh!" sighed Miss Isobel, making no effort to conceal her vast +relief. She attempted a smile. "I am so glad to hear that he is all +right now. Of course he must be!... You say he married an heiress?" + +"She is worth three millions in her own right, and Leslie is as daft +over him as she is. Leslie and my father are the ones who backed him +on the Zariba Dam." + +"How interesting! And I suppose Mr. Blake is a Western man. So many of +the best engineers come from the West." + +Ashton looked at her suspiciously. He could not make out her interest +in Blake. She apparently had come to regard the engineer as a sort of +hero. Yet why should she continue to inquire about him, now that she +knew he was a married man? + +"I'm sure I cannot tell you," he replied, somewhat stiffly. "The +fellow seems to have come from nowhere. Had it not been for an +accident, he would never have got within speaking distance of +Genevieve, but they happened to be shipwrecked together alone--on the +coast of Africa." + +"Wrecked?--shipwrecked? How perfectly glorious!" + +"I wouldn't mind it myself--with you!" he flashed back. + +"I might," she bantered. "This Mr. Blake, I imagine, was hardly a +tenderfoot." + +"No, he was a roughneck," muttered Ashton. + +"You do not like him," she remarked the second time. + +"Why should I, a low fellow like that? I've heard that he even brags +that he started in the Chicago slums." + +The girl put her hand to her bosom. "In the--the Chicago slums!" she +half whispered. + +"No wonder you are surprised," said Ashton. "Anyone would presume +that he would keep such a disgrace to himself. It shows what he +is--absolutely devoid of good taste." + +"Is he--What does he look like?" she eagerly inquired. + +Ashton shrugged. "Pardon me. I prefer not to talk any more about the +fellow." + +Miss Isobel checked her curiosity. "Very well, Mr. Ashton." She looked +around, and suddenly flourished her leathern quirt. "Look--there are +Kid and Daddy trying to head us. Come on, if you want a race. I'm +going to beat them down to Dry Fork." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DOWNHILL AND UP + + +The lash of the quirt fell with a swish on the flank of the girl's +pony. He did not wait for a second hint, but started down the steep +slope "on the jump." Before Ashton realized what was happening, his +own horse was following at the same breakneck pace. + +Down plunged the two ponies--down, down, down the sharply pitched +mountain side, leaping logs and stones, crashing through brush, +scrambling or slithering stiff-legged down rock slides. It was a wild +race, a race that would have been utterly foolhardy with any other +horses than these mountain bred cow ponies. A single misstep would +have sent horse and rider rolling for yards, unless sooner brought up +against tree or rock. + +Most of the color had left Ashton's cheeks, but his full lips were set +in resolute lines. His gaze alertly took in the ground before his +horse and at the same time the girl's graceful, swaying figure. +Fortunately he knew enough to let his horse pick his own way. But such +a way as it was! Had not the two animals been as surefooted as goats +and as quick as cats, both must have pitched head over heels, not +once, but a score of times. + +They had leaped down over numbers of rocks and logs and ledges, and +the girl had not cast back a single glance to see if Ashton was +following. But as they plunged down an open slope she suddenly twisted +about and flung up a warning hand. + +"Here's a jump!" she cried--as though they had not been jumping every +few yards since the beginning of that mad descent. + +Hardly had she faced about again when her pony leaped and dropped with +her clear out of sight. Ashton gasped and started to draw rein. He was +too late. Three strides brought his horse to a ledge fully six feet +high. The beast leaped over the edge without making the slightest +effort to check himself. + +Ashton uttered a startled cry, but poised himself for the shock with +the cleverness of a skillful rider. His pony landed squarely, and at +once started on again as if nothing unusual had happened. + +The girl was already racing down the lower slope, which was more +moderate, or rather, less immoderate than that above the ledge. She +looked around and waved her hand gayly when she saw that Ashton had +kept his seat. + +The salute so fired him that he gave his pony the spur and dashed +recklessly down to overtake her. At last he raced alongside and a +little past her. She looked at his overridden pony and drew rein. + +"Hold on," she said. "Better pull up a bit. You don't want to blow +your hawss. 'Tisn't everyone can take that jump as neatly as he did." + +"But the others?" he panted--"they'll beat us!" + +"They cut down to the right. It's nothing to worry about if they do +head us. They've got the best hawsses. We'll jog the rest of the +way." + +"Of course," he hastened to agree, "if you prefer." + +"I'd prefer to lope uphill and down, but--" she nodded towards his +pony's heaving flanks--"no use riding a willing hawss to death." + +"No danger of that with this old nag. He's tough as a mule," Ashton +assured her, though he followed her example by pulling his mount in to +a walk. + +"A mule knows enough to balk when he's got enough," she informed him. + +He did not reply. With the lessening of his excitement habit sent his +hand to his open packet of cigarettes. He had not smoked since before +shooting the calf. As they came down into the shallow valley between +the foot of the mesa and a parallel line of low rocky hills he could +wait no longer. His lighter was already half raised to the gilt-tipped +cigarette when it was checked by etiquette. He bowed to the girl as a +matter of form. + +"Ah, pardon me--if you have no objections," he said. + +"I have," was her unexpected reply. + +"Er--what?" he asked, his finger on the spring of the lighter. + +"You inquired if I have any objections," she answered. "I told you the +truth. I dislike cigarettes most intensely." + +"But--but--" he stammered, completely taken aback, "don't your cowboys +all smoke?" + +"Not cigarettes--where I ever see them," she said. + +"And cigars or pipes?" he queried. + +"One has to concede something to masculine weakness," she sighed. + +"Unfortunately I have no cigars with me, not even at my camp, and a +pipe is so slow," he complained. + +"Oh, pray, do not deprive yourself on my account," she said. "You'll +find the cut between those two hills about as short a way to your camp +as this one, if you prefer your cigarettes to my company." + +"Crool maid!" he reproached, not altogether jestingly. He even looked +across at the gap through the hills to which she was pointing. Then he +saw the disdain in her blue eyes. He took the cigarette from his lips, +eyed it regretfully, and flung it away with a petulant fillip. + +"There!" he said. Meeting her amused smile, he added in the injured +tone of a spoiled child. "You don't realize what a compliment that +is." + +"What?--abstaining for a half hour or so? If I asked you to break off +entirely, and you did it, I would consider that a real compliment." + +"I should say so!" + +"But I am by no means sure that I would care to ask you," she +bantered. + +"You're not? Why, may I inquire?" + +"I do not like to make useless requests." + +"Useless!" he exclaimed, his self-esteem stung by her raillery. "Do +you think I cannot quit smoking them?" + +"I think you do not care to try." + +Impulsively he snatched out a package of his expensive cigarettes and +tossed it over his shoulder. Another and another and still others +followed in rapid succession, until he had exhausted his supply. + +"How's that?" he demanded her approval. + +"Well, it's not so bad for a start-off," she answered with an absence +of enthusiasm that dashed him from his pose of self-abnegation. + +"You don't realize what that means," he complained. + +"It means, jilt Miss Nicotine in haste, and repent at leisure." + +"You're ragging me! You ought to be particularly nice to me. I did it +for you." + +"Thanks awfully. But I didn't ask you to do it, you know." + +"Oh, now, that's hardly--when I did it because of what you said." + +"Well, then, I promise to be nice to you until events do us part. That +will be in about five minutes. Over there is Dry Fork Gulch. The +waterhole is just down around this hill." + +Ashton took his ardent gaze off the girl's face long enough to glance +to his left. He recognized the tremendous gorge in the face of the +mountain side that he had tried to ascend the previous day. It ran in +with a moderately inclined bottom for nearly a mile, and then scaled +up to the top of High Mesa in steep slopes and sheer ledges. + +His eyes followed the dry gravelly creek bed around to the right, and +he nodded: "Yes, my camp is just over the corner of those crags. But +surely, Miss Knowles, you will not end our acquaintance there." + +She met his appealing look with a level glance. "Seriously, Mr. +Ashton, don't you think you had better move camp to another section? +It seems to me you have done quite enough unseasonable deer hunting." + +Without waiting for him to reply, she urged her horse into a lope. His +own mount was too jaded for a quick start. When he overtook the girl +she had rounded the craggy hill on their right and was in sight of a +scattered grove of boxelders below a dike of dark colored trap rock +that outcropped across the bed of the creek. + +Above the natural dam made by this dike the valley was bedded up with +sand and large gravel washed down by the torrential rush of spring +freshets. Below it the same wild floods, leaping down in a twenty-foot +fall, had gouged out a pothole so wide and deep that it was never +empty of water even in the driest seasons. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +INTO THE DEPTHS + + +At the top of the bank made by the dike the girl pointed with her +quirt down to the rock-rimmed pool edge where a pair of riders were +just swinging out of their saddles. + +"Hello, Daddy! We're coming, Kid," she called, and she turned to +explain to Ashton. "They came around the other end of the hills; a +longer way but better going. How's this? Thought you said you were +camped here." + +"Yes, of course. Don't you see the tent? It's right there among +the--Why, what--where is it?" cried Ashton, gaping in blank +amazement. + +"We'll soon see," replied the girl. + +Their horses were scrambling down the short steep slope to the pool, +where the other horses were drinking their fill of the cool water. The +two men watched Ashton's approach, Knowles with an impassive gaze, +Gowan with cold suspicion in his narrowed eyes. + +"Well, honey," asked the cowman, "did you have him pulling leather?" + +"No, and I didn't lose him, either," she replied, with a mischievous +glance at Gowan. "I took that jump-off where the white-cheeked steer +broke its neck. He took it after me without pulling leather." + +"Huh!" grunted the puncher. "Mr. Tenderfoot shore is some rider. We're +waiting for him now to ride around and find that camp where we were to +deliver his veal." + +Ashton stared with a puzzled, half-dazed expression from the tentless +trees beside him to the fore and hind quarters of veal wrapped in +slicker raincoats and fastened on back of the men's saddles. + +"Well?" demanded Knowles. "Thought you said you were camped here." + +"I am--that is, I--My tent was right there between those two trees," +said Ashton. "You see, there are the twigs and leaves I had my valet +collect for my bed." + +"Shore--valleys are great on collecting beds of leaves and sand and +bowlders," observed Gowan. + +"There's his fireplace," said the girl, wheeling her horse through a +clump of wild rosebushes. "Yes, and he's right about the tent, too. It +is a bed. Here's a dozen cigarette boxes and--What's this, Mr. Ashton! +Looks as if someone had left a note for you." + +"A note?" he muttered, slipping to the ground. + +He ran over to the spot to which she was pointing. On a little pile of +stones, in front of where his tent had been pitched, a piece of +coarse wrapping paper covered with writing was fluttering in the light +breeze. He snatched it up and read the note with fast-growing +bewilderment. + +"What is it?" sympathetically questioned the girl, quick to see that +he was in real trouble. + +He did not answer. He did not even realize that she had spoken. With +feverish haste he caught up an opened envelope that had lain under the +paper. Drawn by his odd manner, Knowles and Gowan came over to stare +at him. He had torn a letter from the envelope. It was in typewriting +and covered less than a page, yet he gaped at it, reading and +re-reading the lines as if too dazed to be able to comprehend their +meaning. + +Slowly the involved sentences burned their way into his consciousness. +As his bewilderment cleared, his concern deepened to dismay, and from +dismay to consternation. His jaw dropped slack, his face whitened, the +pupils of his eyes dilated. + +"What is it? What's the matter?" exclaimed the girl. + +"Matter?"--His voice was hoarse and strained. He crumpled the letter +in a convulsive grasp--"Matter? I'm ruined!--ruined! God!" + +Knowles and the girl were both silent before the despair in the young +man's face. Gowan was more obtuse or else less considerate. + +"Shore, you're plumb busted, partner," he ironically condoled. "Your +whole outfit has flown away on the wings of the morning. Hope you +won't tell us the pay for your veal has vamoosed with the rest." + +"Oh, Kid, for shame!" reproved the girl. "Of course Daddy won't ask +for any pay--now." + +Ashton burst into a jangling high-pitched laugh. + +"No, no! there's still my pony and saddle and rifle and watch!" he +cried, half hysterically. "Take them! strip me! Here's my hat, too! I +paid forty-five dollars for it--silver band." He flung it on the +ground. "There's a hole in it--I wish the hole were through my head!" + +"Now, now, look here, son. Keep a stiff upper lip," said Knowles. +"Don't act like you're locoed. It's all right about that veal, as +Chuckie says, and you oughtn't to make such a fuss over the loss of a +camp outfit." + +"Camp outfit?" shrilled Ashton. "If that were all! if that were all! +What shall I do? Lost--all lost!--father--all! Ruined! Oh, my God! +What shall I do? Oh, my God! Oh--" Anguish and despair choked the cry +in his throat. He collapsed in a huddled, quivering heap. + +"_Sho!_ It can't be as bad as that, can it?" condoled the cowman. + +"Go away!" sobbed the prostrated man. "Go away! Take my pony--all! +Only leave me!" + +"If ever I saw a fellow plumb locoed!" muttered Gowan, half +awe-struck. + +"Maybe he'll come to his senses if we leave him," suggested Knowles. +He took a step towards Ashton. "All right, son, we'll go. But we'll +leave you half that veal, and we won't take your hawss. D'you want +help in looking for your outfit?" + +Ashton shook his downbent head. + +"Well, if you want to let the thieves get away with it, that's your +own lookout. You'd better strike back to the railroad." + +"Go away! Leave me!" moaned Ashton. + +"Gone to smash--clean busted!" commented Gowan, as he turned about to +go to his horse, his spurs jingling gayly. + +Knowles followed him, shaking his head. The girl had been gazing at +Ashton with an expression that varied from sympathetic commiseration +to contemptuous pity. As her adopted father and Gowan mounted, she +rode over to them. + +"Go on," she said. "I'll overtake you as soon as I've watered my +hawss." + +"You're not going to speak to that kettle of mush again, Miss +Chuckie," remonstrated Gowan. + +"Yes, I am, Kid, and you know you wouldn't stop me if you could. He +needs it. I'm glad you smashed his pistol. A rifle is not so handy." + +Knowles stared over the bushes at the huddled figure on the ground. +"Look here, Chuckie, you can't mean that?" + +"Yes," she insisted. "He is ready to do it right now, unless someone +throws him a rope and hauls him out of the slough." + +"Lot of fuss over a tenderfoot you never saw before today," grumbled +Gowan. + +"That's not like you, Kid," she reproached. "Besides, you don't want +the trouble of digging a grave. It would have to be deep, to keep out +the coyotes. Daddy, you're forgetting the veal." + +"So I am," agreed the cowman. "Ride on, Kid. You'll be carrying most +weight." + +The puncher reluctantly wheeled his horse and started down the bank of +the dry stream. Knowles unfastened the hind quarters of veal from +behind the cantle of his saddle, lifted them into a fork of one of the +low trees, and rode off after Gowan, folding up his blood-stained +slicker. + +The girl at once slipped from her pony and walked quietly around to +the drooping, despairing man. + +"Mr. Ashton," she softly began, "they have gone. I have stayed to find +out if there is anything I can do." + +She paused for him to reply. His shoulders quivered, but he remained +silent. She went on soothingly: "You are all unstrung. The shock was +too sudden. It must have been a terrible one! Won't you tell me about +it? Perhaps that will make you feel better." + +"As if anything could when I am ruined, utterly ruined!" he moaned. + +"But how? Please tell me," she urged. + +Slowly he raised his haggard face and looked up at her. There could be +no question but that she was full of sincere sympathy and concern for +him. Her eyes shone upon him with all the motherly tenderness that any +good woman, however young, has in her heart for those who suffer. + +"It's all in this--this letter," he muttered brokenly. "Expected my +remittance in it--Got ruin! ruin!" + +"It had been opened," suggested the girl. "Perhaps those who took your +outfit also took your remittance money." + +"No, there wasn't any--not a cent! My valet had my written instructions +to open it and cash the money orders--that weren't there! He and the +guide--they came back. The letter had told them all, all! I was not +here. They took the outfit--the money--divided it. Left that note--they +had no more use for me.... Ruined! utterly ruined!" + +"But if you wish us to run them down?" + +"No--good riddance! What they took is less than what I owed them. +Ungrateful scoundrels!" + +"That's it!" approved the girl. "Get up your spunk. Cuss, if you like. +Rip loose, good and hard. It will ease you off." + +"It's no use," he groaned, slumping back into his posture of abject +dejection. + +"Oh, come, now!" she encouraged. "You're a young, healthy man. What if +you have been bucked off this time? There are lots other hawsses in +Life's corral." + +He hung his head lower. + +She went on, in an altered tone: "Mr. Ashton, it is evident you have +been bred as a gentleman. I wish you to give me your word that you +will not put an end to yourself." + +There was a prolonged pause. At last he stirred as if uneasy under her +steady gaze. He could not see her eyes, yet he seemed to feel them. +Twice he started to speak, but checked himself and hesitated. The +third time he muttered a reluctant, "I--will not." + +"Good! I have your word," she replied. "I must go now. When you've +shaken yourself together a bit, come down to the ranch. You ride down +Dry Fork to the junction, and then three miles up Plum Creek. Daddy'll +be glad to put you up a few days until you can think of what to do to +get a new start. Good-by!" + +She went back to her horse as lightfooted and graceful as an antelope. +But he did not look up after her, nor did he respond to her cordial +parting. For a long time after she rode away he continued to crouch as +she had left him, motionless, almost torpid with the immensity of his +loss. + +The sun sank lower and lower. It touched the skyline of High Mesa and +dipped below. The shadow of twilight fell upon Dry Fork and the +waterhole. The man shivered and, as if afraid that the darkness would +rush upon him, hastily opened his clenched hand and smoothed out the +crumpled letter. + +To his bloodshot eyes, the accusing words seemed to glare up at him in +letters of fire: + + Sir: + + We have been instructed by our client, Mr. George Ashton, to + inform you that he has at last learned the full particulars of + the manner in which you obtained possession of the plans of Mr. + Thomas Blake, C.E., drawn by him for the competition on the then + projected Michamac bridge; how you copied said plans and + destroyed the originals, and was awarded the construction of + said bridge on said copied plans presented by you as of your own + device and invention; that you were awarded and did enjoy the + office of Resident Engineer of said bridge during a period + covering the greater part of the construction thereof, and + received the full salary of said office, to and until said Blake + took charge of said bridge, which had been imperilled by your + incompetence; and said Blake, against your strenuous objections + and opposition and at great personal risk, saved said bridge + from destruction. + + Wherefore, because of the disgrace which you have, by reason of + the aforesaid actions and conduct, brought upon his name, and + because of various and sundry acts of disobedience, as well as + your life of frivolity and dissipation,--our client has + instructed us to inform you, that he has cut you off from him + absolutely; that he has drawn a new will wherein the amount of + your legacy is fixed at the sum of one ($1.00) dollar; that he + will no longer make you an allowance in any sum whatever; that + he no longer regards you as his son; that any communication + addressed to him by you, either directly or indirectly, will not + be received or read by him; and that he absolutely refuses to + see you or to grant you a personal interview. + + Respectfully, etc. + +The signature was that of his father's confidential lawyers, and +below, to the left, lest there be no possibility of misunderstanding, +were his name and address in full: "Mr. Lafayette Ashton, Stockchute, +Colorado." + +Again he bent over with his head on his breast and the letter clutched +convulsively in his slender palm. + +A bloodcurdling yell brought him to his feet with a sudden leap. He +still did not know the difference between the cry of a coyote and the +deeper note of a timber wolf. He hastily started a fire, and ran to +fetch his rifle from the saddle sheath. The pony was quietly munching +a wisp of grass as best he could with the bit in his mouth. The +unconcern of the beast reassured his master, who, however, filled the +magazine of his rifle before offsaddling. + +Having hobbled the pony for the night, Ashton laid the rifle on the +rim of the pool, stripped, and dived in. He went down like a plummet, +reckless of the danger of striking some upjutting ledge. He may have +forgotten for the moment his word to the girl, or he may have +considered that it did not prevent him from courting death by +accident. + +But, deeply as he dived, he failed to reach bottom. He came up, +puffing and blowing, and swam swiftly around the pool before +scrambling out to dress. The combined effect of the vigorous exercise, +the grateful coolness of the water, and the riddance of the day's dust +and sweat brought him ashore in a far less morbid frame of mind. Going +up the bank, he pulled the hind quarters of veal from the tree and +sliced off three or four ragged strips with his knife. After washing +them, he put them to broil over his smoky fire of green twigs. The +"cutlets" came off, one half raw and the other half burned to a crisp. +But he had not eaten since the early forenoon. He devoured the mess +without salt, ravenously. He topped off with the scant swallow of +brandy left in his flask. + +Stimulated by the food and drink, he set about gathering a large heap +of wood. Three or four coyotes had approached his camp, attracted by +the scent of the calf meat. With the fading of twilight into night +they came in closer, making such a racket with their yelping and +wailing that he thought himself surrounded by a pack of ravenous +wolves. + +He could not see how his pony was unconcernedly grazing within a few +yards of one of the cowardly beasts. Had the wistful singers been +timber wolves, the animal soon would have come hobbling in near the +fire; but Ashton did not know that. He flung on brush and crouched +down near the blaze, rifle in hand, peering out into the blackness. +Every moment he expected to hear that terrible cry of which he had +read, the death-scream of a horse, and then to hear the crunching of +bones between the jaws of the ferocious wolves. + +He had spent the previous night alone in camp, peacefully sleeping. +But then the yells of the beasts of darkness had been far away, and +the walls of his tent had shut him in from the wild. Tonight his +nerves had been shattered by the terrible blow of his father's +repudiation. Worst of all, he had no tobacco with which to soothe +them. + +His dread of the supposed wolf pack in a way eased the anguish of +his ruin by diverting his mind. But the lack of cigarettes served +only to put a more frightful strain on his overwrought nerves. He +felt it first in a vague discomfort that set his hands to groping +automatically through his pockets. The absence of the usual box +roused his consciousness, with a dismayed start, to the realization +that he was absolutely without his soothing drug. The absconding +guide and valet had taken the large store he had in camp, and, to +please Miss Knowles, he had flung away all that were left in his +pockets. + +From vague fumbling he instantly concentrated his mind on an eager +search for a packet that might have been overlooked, either in his +pockets or around the camp. He could find none, nor even a single +cigarette. His nerves were now clamoring wildly for their soothing +poison. So great was the strain that it began to affect his mind. He +fancied that the wolf pack was closing in to attack him. Twice he +fired his rifle at imaginary eyes out in the darkness. + +All the time the craving for nicotine increased in intensity, until he +was half frantic. Midnight found him, torch in hand, crawling around +on the ground where his tent had been pitched, hunting for cigarette +stubs. He had only to look close in order to find any number. Most +were no more than cork tips, but some had at least one puff left in +them, and a few had been only half smoked. + +Beside the bed he came upon almost a handful, close together. By this +time his jangled nerves were "toning down." He became conscious of +great weariness. He stretched out on his leafy bed, and with his head +pillowed on his arm, luxuriously sucked in the drugging smoke. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A TEST OF CALIBER + + +When he opened his eyes the sun was beating down into his face. He had +slept far into the morning. He stood up to stare around. His horse was +cropping the grass near the lower side of the grove. There was no sign +of any wolves. He walked over to his fireplace. The fire had burned to +ashes hours ago. He started a fresh one with his patent lighter, and +turned to where he had left the veal. It was gone. + +He went a few steps farther, and found a bone gnawed clean of every +shred of meat and gristle. A fox is a far less cunning thief than a +coyote. The quantity of calf meat had alone saved his saddle and +bridle, and even at that, one of the bridle reins was slashed and the +stirrup leathers were gnawed. He looked from the white bone to the +saddle, and ripped out a half dozen vigorous Anglo-Saxon oaths. It was +not nice, but the explosion argued a far healthier frame of mind than +either his morbid hysteria of the previous afternoon or his frenzy of +the night. + +After the outburst of anger had spent itself, he realized that he was +hungry. The feeling became acute when he remembered that he had +absolutely nothing on hand to eat. He hastened to saddle up. As he was +about to mount he paused to look uncertainly up the trail on which he +had thrown away the cigarettes. While he stood vacillating, his hand +went to his hip pocket and drew out the silver-cased brandy flask. He +looked at it, and its emptiness reminded him that he was thirsty. He +went down to the pool for a drink. Having filled his flask, he +returned up the bank and sprang into the saddle. + +His horse, in fine fettle after the night's rest and grazing, started +off on the jump, cow pony fashion. Ashton gave him his head, and the +horse bore him at a steady lope down along the stream, crossing over +to the other bank of the dry bed, of his own volition, when the going +became too rough on the near side. The direction of the railway was +now off across the sagebrush flats to Ashton's right, but he allowed +his horse to continue on down the creek. About four miles from the +waterhole he approached a bunch of grazing cattle. He drew rein and +walked his horse past them, looking for a herder. There was none in +sight. The animals were on their home range. He rode on down the creek +at a canter. + +A mile farther on, as he neared another scattered bunch of cattle, +something thwacked the dry ground a little in front and to the left of +him, throwing up a splash of sand and dust. His pony snorted and +leaped ahead at a quickened pace. + +Ashton turned to look back at the spot--and instinctively ducked as a +bullet pinged past his ear so close that he felt the windage on his +cheek. He did not lack quickness of perception. He glanced up the open +slope to his left, and grasped the fact that someone was shooting at +him with a rifle from the crest of the ridge half a mile distant. + +Instantly he flung himself flat on his pony's neck and dug in his +spurs. The pony bounded forward with a suddenness that spoiled the aim +of the third bullet. It whined past over the beast's haunches. The +fourth shot, best aimed of all, smashed the silver brandy flask in +Ashton's hip pocket. Had he been upright in the saddle, the +steel-jacketed bullet must have pierced him through the waist. + +With a yell of terror, he flattened himself still closer to his pony's +neck and dug in his spurs at every jump. The beast was already going +at a pace that would have won most quarter-mile sprints. Just after +the fourth shot he swept in among the scattered bunch of cattle, +running at his highest speed. Still Ashton swung his sharp-roweled +spurs. He knew that the range of a high-power rifle is well over a +mile. + +To his vast surprise, the shooting ceased the moment he raced into +line with the first steer. The short respite gave him time to recover +his wits. + +As the pony sprinted clear of the last steer in the bunch, a fifth +bullet ranged close down over Ashton's head. He pulled hard on the +right rein and leaned the same way. The sixth shot burned the skin on +the pony's hip as he swerved suddenly towards the edge of the creek +channel. He made a wild leap out over the edge of the cut bank and +came plunging down on a gravel bar. At once he started to race along +the dry stream bed. But instead of spurring, Ashton now tugged at the +bridle. + +The pony swung to the left and came to a halt close in under the bank. +Ashton cautiously straightened from his crouch. When erect he was just +high enough to see over the edge of the bank. Looking back and up the +ridge, he saw the figure of a man clearly outlined against the sky. +His lips closed in resolute lines; his dark eyes flashed. Jerking out +his rifle, he set the sight for fifteen hundred yards, and began +firing at the would-be murderer as coolly and steadily as a marksman. + +Before he had pulled the trigger the third time the man leaped +sideways and knelt to return his fire. At once Ashton gripped his +rifle still more firmly and drew back the automatic lever. The +crackling discharge was like the fire of a miniature Maxim gun. Puffs +of dust spouted up all around the man on the ridge crest. He sprang to +his feet and ran back out of sight, jumping from side to side like an +Indian. + +"Ho!" shouted Ashton. "He's running! I made him run!" + +He sat up very erect in his saddle, staring defiantly at the place +where the murderer had disappeared. + +"The coward! I made him run!" he exulted. + +He shifted his grip on his rifle, and the heat of the barrel reminded +him that he had emptied the magazine. He reloaded the weapon to its +fullest capacity, and stood up in his stirrups to stare at the ridge +crest. The murderer did not reappear. Ashton's exultance gave place to +disappointment. He was more than ready to continue the duel. + +He rode down the creek, searching for a place to ascend the cut bank. +But by the time he came to a slope he had cooled sufficiently to +realize the foolishness of bravado. Not unlikely the murderer was +lying back out of sight, ready to shoot him when he came up out of the +creek. He reflected, and decided that the going was quite good enough +in the bottom of the creek bed. He rode on down the channel, over the +gravel bars, at an easy canter. + +After a half mile the bank became so low and the creek bed so sandy +that he turned up on to the dry sod. As he did so he kept his eye +warily on the now distant ridge. But no bullet came pinging down after +him. + +Instead, he heard the thud of galloping hoofs, and twisted about just +in time to see a rider top a rise a short distance in front of him. +He snapped down his breech sight and faced the supposed assailant with +the rifle ready at his shoulder. Almost as quickly he lowered the +weapon and snatched off his sombrero in joyful salute. The rider was +Miss Knowles. + +She waved back gayly and cantered up to him, her lovely face aglow +with cordial greeting. + +"Good noon!" she called. "So you have come at last? But better late +than never." + +"How could I help coming?" he gallantly exclaimed. + +"I see. The coyotes stole your cutlets, and you were hungry," she +bantered, as she came alongside and whirled her horse around to ride +with him down the creek. + +"How did you guess?" he asked. + +"I know coyotes," she replied. "They're the worst--" She stopped +short, gazing at the bleeding flanks of his pony. "Oh, Mr. Ashton! how +could you? I did not think you so cruel!" + +"Cruel?" he repeated, twisting about to see what she meant. "Ah, you +refer to the spurring. But I simply couldn't help it, you know. There +was a bandit taking pot shots at me as I passed the ridge back +there." + +"A bandit--on Dry Mesa?" she incredulously exclaimed. + +"Yes; he pegged at me eight or nine times." + +The girl smiled. "You probably heard one of the punchers shooting at a +coyote." + +"No," he insisted, flushing under her look. "The ruffian was shooting +at me. See here." + +He put his hand to his left hip pocket, one side of which had been +torn out. From it he drew his brandy flask. + +"That was done by the third or fourth shot," he explained. "Do you +wonder I was flat on my pony's neck and spurring as hard as I could?" + +The girl took the flask from his outstretched hand and looked it over +with keen interest. In one side of the silver case was a small, neat +hole. Opposite it half of the other side had been burst out as if by +an explosion within. She took off the silver cap, shook out the +shattered glass of the inner flask, and looked again at the small +hole. + +"A thirty-eight," she observed. + +"Pardon me," he replied. "I fail to--Ah, yes; thirty-eight caliber, +you mean." + +"It is I who must ask pardon," she said in frank apology. "Your rifle +is a thirty-two. I heard a number of shots, ending with the rattle of +an automatic. Thought you were after another deer." + +He could afford to smile at the merry thrust and the flash of dimples +that accompanied it. + +"At least it wasn't a calf this time," he replied. "Nor was it a doe. +But it may have been a buck." + +"Indian?" she queried, with instant perception of his play on the +word. + +"I didn't see any war plumes," he admitted. + +"War plumes? Oh, that _is_ a joke!" she exclaimed. She chanced to look +down at the shattered flask, and her merriment vanished. "But this +isn't any joke. Didn't you see the man who was shooting at you?" + +"Yes, after I jumped my pony down into the creek. Perhaps the bandit +thought he had tumbled us both. He stood up on top the ridge, until I +cut loose and made him run." + +"He ran?" + +Ashton's eyes sparkled at the remembrance, and his chest began to +expand. Then he met the girl's clear, direct gaze, and answered +modestly: "Well, you see, when I had got down behind the bank our +positions were reversed. He was the one in full view. It's curious, +though, Miss Knowles--shooting at that poor calf, under the impression +it was a deer, I simply couldn't hold my rifle steady, while--" + +"No wonder, if it was your first deer," put in the girl. "We call it +buck fever." + +"Yes, but wouldn't you have thought my first bandit--Why, I couldn't +have aimed at him more steadily if I had been made of cast iron." + +"Guess he had made you fighting mad," she bantered; but under her +seeming levity he perceived a change in her manner towards him +immensely gratifying to his humbled self-esteem. + +"At first I was just a trifle apprehensive--" He hesitated, and +suddenly burst out with a candid confession--"No, not a trifle! +Really, I was horribly frightened!" + +This was more than the girl had hoped from him. She nodded and smiled +in open approval. "You had a good right to be frightened. I don't +blame you for spurring that way. Look. It wasn't only one shot that +came close. There's a neat hair brand on your hawss's hip that wasn't +there yesterday." + +"Must have been the shot just before we took the bank," said Ashton, +twisting about to look at the streak cut by the bullet. "The first was +the only other one that didn't go higher." + +"But what did the man look like?" questioned Miss Isobel. "I can't +imagine who--Can it be that your guide has a grudge against you on +account of his pay?" + +"I wouldn't have thought it possible before yesterday, though he was a +surly fellow and inclined to be insolent." + +"All such men are apt to be with tenderfeet," she remarked, permitting +herself a half twinkle of her sweet eyes. "But I should have thought +yours would have kept on going. Whatever you may have owed him, he had +no right to steal your outfit. He must be a real badman, if it's true +he is the party who did this shooting." + +"I shouldn't be at all surprised," agreed Ashton. In her concern over +him she looked so charming that he would have agreed if she had told +him the moon was made of green cheese. + +She shook her head thoughtfully, and went on: "I can't imagine even +one of our badmen trying to murder you that way. Their usual course +would be to come up to you, face to face, pick a quarrel, and beat you +to it on the draw. But whoever the cowardly scoundrel is, we'll turn +out the boys, and either run him down or out of the country." + +"If it's my guide, he probably is running already." + +"I hope so," replied the girl. + +"You do! Don't you want him punished?" exclaimed Ashton. + +"Of course, but you see I don't want Kid to--to cut another notch on +his Colt's." + +"I must say, I cannot see how that--" + +"You could if you realized how kind and good he has been to me all +these years. Do you know, when I first came West, I couldn't tell a +jackrabbit from a burro. Daddy had told me that each had big ears, and +I got them mixed. And actually I didn't know the off from the nigh +side of a hawss!" + +"But we--er--have horses and riding-schools in the East," put in +Ashton. + +She parried the indirect question without seeming to notice it. "You +proved that yesterday, coming down from High Mesa. I felt sure I would +have you pulling leather." + +"Pulling leather?" he asked. "You see, I own to my tenderfootness." + +"Grabbing your saddle to hold yourself on," she explained. Before he +could reply, she rose in her stirrups and pointed ahead with her +quirt. "Look, that's the top of the biggest haystack, up by the +feed-sheds. You'll see the buildings in half a minute." + +Unheeded by Ashton, she had guided him off to the left, away from Dry +Fork, across the angle above its junction with Plum Creek. They were +now coming up over the divide between the two streams. Ashton failed +to locate the haystack until its two mates and the long, half-open +shelter-sheds came into view. + +A moment later he was looking at the horse corral and the group of log +ranch houses. Below and beyond them the scattered groves of Plum Creek +stretched away up across the mesa--green bouquets on the slender +silver ribbon of the creek's midsummer rill. + +"Well?" she asked. "What do you think of my home?" + +"Your summer home," he suggested. + +"No, my real home," she insisted. "Auntie couldn't be nicer or fonder +than she is; but her house is a residence, not a home, even to her. +Anyway, here, where I have Daddy and Kid--I do so hope you and Kid +will become friends." + +"Since you wish it, I shall try to do my part. But it is a matter that +might take time, and--" he smiled ruefully and concluded with seeming +irrelevance--"I have no home." + +She gazed at him with the look of tender motherly sympathy that he had +been too distraught to really feel the previous day. "Do not say that, +Mr. Ashton! Though a ranch house is hardly the kind of home to which +you are accustomed, you will find that we range folks retain the +old-fashioned Western ideas of hospitality." + +"My dear Miss Knowles!" he exclaimed with ardent gallantry, "the mere +thought of being under the same sky with you--" + +"Don't, please," she begged. "This _is_ the blue sky we are under, not +a stuccoed ceiling." + +"Well, I really meant it," he protested, greatly dashed. + +"Kid often says nice things to me. But he speaks with his hands," she +remarked. + +"Deaf and dumb alphabet?" he queried wonderingly. + +"Hardly," she answered, dimpling under his puzzled gaze. "Actions +speak louder than words, you know." + +"Ah!" he murmured, and his look indicated that she had given him food +for thought. + +They were now cantering down the long easy slope towards the ranch +buildings. The girl's quick eye perceived a horseman riding towards +the ranch from one of the groves up Plum Creek. + +"There's Kid coming in," she remarked. "He went out early this morning +after a big wolf that had killed a calf. He reported last evening that +he found the carcass over near the head of Plum Creek. A wolf that +gets to killing calves this time of year is a pretty costly neighbor. +Daddy told Kid to go out and try to get him." + +"I'm glad you didn't let him get _this_ calf-killer," observed +Ashton. + +"Oh, as soon as we saw your tenderfoot riding togs--!" she rejoined. +"Seriously, though, you must not mind if the men poke a little fun at +you. Most of them are more farmhands than cowboys, but Kid will be apt +to lead off. I do so want you to be agreeable to Kid. He is almost a +member of the family, not a hired man." + +"I shall try to be agreeable to him," replied Ashton, a trifle +stiffly. + +The puncher had seen them probably before they saw him. He was riding +at a pace that brought him to the horse corral a few moments ahead of +them. When they came up he nodded carelessly in response to Ashton's +studiously polite greeting, "Good day, Mr. Gowan," and turned to +loosen the cinch of his saddle. + +"You've been riding some," remarked the girl, looking at the puncher's +heaving, lathered horse. + +"Jumped that wolf--ran him," replied Gowan, as he lifted off his +saddle and deftly tossed it up on the top rail of the corral. + +"You're in luck," congratulated Miss Isobel. She explained to Ashton: +"The cattlemen in this county pay fifteen dollars for wolf scalps. +That's in addition to the state bounty." + +Ashton sprang off to offer her his hand. But she was on the ground as +soon as he. Gowan stared at him between narrowed lids, and replied to +the girl somewhat shortly: "I didn't get him this time, Miss +Chuckie." + +"You didn't? That's too bad! You don't often miss. I wish you had been +with me, to run down the scoundrel who tried to murder Mr. Ashton." + +Gowan burst into the harsh, strained laughter of one who seldom gives +way to mirth. He checked himself abruptly and cast a hostile look at +Ashton. "By--James, Miss Chuckie, you don't mean to say you let a +tenderfoot string you?" + +"How about this?" asked the girl. She held out the silver flask, which +she had not returned to Ashton. + +Gowan gave it a casual glance, and answered almost jeeringly: "Easy +enough for him to set it up and plug it--if he didn't get too far +away." + +"His rifle is a thirty-two. This was done by a thirty-eight," she +replied. + +"Thirty-eight?" he repeated. "Let's see." He took the flask from her, +drew a rifle cartridge from his belt, and fitted the steel-jacketed +bullet into the clean, small hole. "You're right, Miss Chuckie. It +shore was a thirty-eight." He turned sharply on Ashton. "Where'd it +happen? Who was it?" + +"Over on that dry stream," answered Ashton. "Unfortunately the fellow +was too far away for me to be able to describe him." + +"But we think it may have been his guide," explained the girl. + +"Guide?" muttered Gowan, staring intently at Ashton. + +"Yes. You see, if he was mean enough to help steal Mr. Ashton's +outfit, he--" + +"Shore, I savvy!" exclaimed the puncher. "I'll rope a couple of fresh +hawsses, and go out with Mr. Ashton after the two-legged wolf." + +"That's like you, Kid! But you must wait at least until you've both +had dinner. Mr. Ashton, I'm sure, is half starved." + +"Me, too, Miss Chuckie. But you know I'd rather eat a wolf or a +rustler or even a daring desperado than sinkers and beans, any day." + +"You'll come in with us and see what Daddy has to say about it," the +girl insisted. + +She started to loosen her saddle-cinch. Gowan handed back the silver +flask, and stripping off saddle and bridle from her horse, placed them +on the rail beside his own. Ashton waited, as if expecting a like +service. The puncher started off beside Miss Isobel without looking at +him. Ashton flushed hotly, and hastened to do his own unsaddling. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE CHANCE OF RECLAMATION + + +Beyond the bunkhouse, which was the nearest building to the corral, +stood the low but roomy log structure of the main ranch house. As +Ashton came around the front corner, close behind Gowan and the girl, +Knowles rose from his comfortable chair in the rustic porch, knocked +out the half burned contents of his pipe and extended a freckled, +corded hand to the stranger. + +"Howdy, Mr. Ashton! Glad to see you!" he said with hearty hospitality. +"Hope you've come to ease up our lonesomeness by a month or two's +visit." + +"Why, I--You're too kind, really!" replied Ashton, his voice quavering +and breaking at the unexpected cordiality of the welcome. "If you--I +shall take advantage of your generous offer. You see, I'm rather in a +box, owing to my--" He caught himself up, and tightened his slackening +lip. "But you'll pardon me if I ask you to let me do something in +return for your hospitality." + +"We don't sell our hospitality on the range," brusquely replied the +cowman. + +"Oh, no, no, I did not mean--I could not pay a penny. I'm utterly +destitute--a--a pauper!" A spasm of bitter despair contorted his +handsome face. + +Knowles and the girl hastily looked away from him, that they might not +see him in his weakness. But he rallied and forced a rather unsteady +laugh at himself. "You see, I haven't quite got used to it yet. I've +always had money. I never really had to work. Now I must learn to earn +a living. It's very good of you, Mr. Knowles, but--there's that veal. +If only you'll let me work out what I owe you." + +"You don't owe me a cent for the yearling," gruffly replied the +cowman. "Don't know what I could put you at, anyway." + +"Might use him to shoo off the rattlers and jackrabbits from in front +the mowing machine," suggested Gowan. + +"Mr. Ashton can ride," interposed the girl, with a friendliness of +tone that brought Gowan to a thin-lipped silence. + +"That's something," said Knowles, gazing speculatively at the slim +aristocratic figure of the tenderfoot. "You're not built for pitching +hay, but like as not you have the makings of a puncher. Ever throw a +rope?" + +"Never. I shall start practicing the art--at once." + +"No, not until you and Kid have had dinner," gayly contradicted the +girl. "We've had ours. But Yuki always has something ready. Kid, if +you'll show Mr. Ashton where to wash, I'll tell Yuki." + +She darted through the open doorway into the house. At a curt nod from +Gowan, Ashton followed him around to the far side of the house, +leaving Knowles in the act of hastily reloading his pipe. Under a +lean-to that covered a door in the side of the house was a barrel of +water and a bench with two basins. On a row of pegs above hung a +number of towels, all rumpled but none dirty. + +Gowan pointed to a box of unused towels, and proceeded to lather and +wash himself. Ashton took a towel, and after rinsing out the second +washbasin, made as fastidious a toilet as the scant conveniences of +the place would permit. There were combs and a fairly good mirror +above the soap shelf. Gowan went in by the side door, without waiting +for his companion. Ashton presently followed him, having looked in +vain for a razor to rid himself of his two days' growth of beard. + +The long table told him that he had entered the ranch mess-hall, or +rather, dining-room. Though the table was covered with oilcloth and +the rough-hewn logs of the outer walls were lime-plastered only in the +chinks, the seats were chairs instead of benches, and between the gay +Mexican _serape_ drapes of the clean windows hung several well-done +water color landscapes, appropriately framed in unbarked pine. On the +oiled deal floor were scattered half a dozen Navajo rugs. + +Gowan had taken a seat at one end of the table. As Ashton sat down at +the neatly laid place opposite him, a silent, smiling, deft-handed Jap +came in from the kitchen with a heaping trayful of dishes. For the +most part, the food was ordinary ranch fare, but cooked with the skill +of a _chef_. The exceptions were the fresh milk and delicious unsalted +butter. On most cattle ranches, the milk comes from "tin cows" and the +butter from oleomargarine tubs. + +The two diners were well along in their meal, eating as earnestly and +as taciturnly as the Jap served, when Miss Isobel came in with her +father. The girl had dressed for the afternoon in a gown of the latest +style, whose quiet color and simple lines harmonized perfectly with +her surroundings. She smiled impartially at puncher, tenderfoot, and +Jap. + +"Thank you, Yuki. I see you did not keep our hungry hunters +waiting.--Mr. Ashton, I have told Daddy about that shooting." + +"It's a mighty strange happening. You might tell us the full +particulars," said Knowles. + +Ashton at once gave a fairly accurate account of the affair. He could +hardly exaggerate the peril he had incurred, and the touch of +exultance with which he described his defeat of the murderer was quite +pardonable in a tenderfoot. + +"Strange--mighty strange. Can't understand it," commented the cowman +when Ashton had finished his account. + +"It shore is, Mr. Knowles," added Gowan. "The only thirty-eight on the +ranch is mine. That seems to clear our people." + +"Of course! It could not possibly be any of our people!" exclaimed the +girl. + +"Mr. Ashton thinks it might have been his guide," went on Gowan. + +"His guide? What caliber was his rifle?" shrewdly queried the cowman. + +"Why, I--really I cannot remember," answered Ashton. "I know it was of +a larger bore than mine, but that is all." + +"Um-m," considered Knowles. "Looks rather like he's the man. Can't +think of anyone else. Trouble is, if he was laying in wait for you, +his horse would be fresh. Must have covered a right smart bit of +territory by now." + +"I'll go out and take a look at his tracks," said Gowan, rising with a +readiness that brought a nod of approval from his employer. + +"You'll be careful, Kid," cautioned the girl, with a shade of concern +in her tone. + +"He'll keep his eye open, Chuckie," reassured her father. "It's the +other fellow wants to be careful, if he hasn't already vamoosed. Hey, +Kid?" + +"I'll get him, if I get the chance," laconically replied Gowan, +looking from the girl to Ashton with the characteristic straightening +of his lips that marked the tensing of his emotions. + +As he left the room Miss Isobel smiled and nodded to Ashton. "You see +how friendly he is, in spite of his cold manner to strangers. I +thought he had taken a dislike to you, yet you saw how readily he +offered to go out after your assailant." + +"More likely it's because he thinks it would discredit us to let such +a scoundrel get away," differed her father. "However, he'll leave you +alone, Mr. Ashton, if you stay with us as a guest, and will only haze +you a bit, if you insist upon joining our force." + +"You mean, working for you? I must insist on that," said Ashton, with +an eager look at the girl. "If only I can do well enough to be +employed right along!" + +The cowman grunted, and winked solemnly at his daughter. "Yes, I can +understand your feeling that way. How about the winter, though? You +mayn't like it over here so well then." + +Ashton flushed and laughed at the older man's shrewdness; hesitated, +and confessed candidly: "No, I should prefer Denver in winter." + +Miss Isobel blushed in adorable payment of his compliment, but thrust +back at him: "We bar cowboys in the Sacred Thirty-six." + +He winced. Her stroke had pierced into his raw wound. + +"Oh!--oh!" she breathlessly exclaimed. "I didn't mean to--Oh, I'm so +sorry!" + +He dashed the tears from his eyes. "No, you--don't apologize! It's +only that I'm--Please don't fancy I'm a baby! You see, when a fellow +has always lived high--on top, you know--and then to have everything +go out from under him without warning!" + +"Keep a stiff upper lip, son," advised Knowles. "You'll pull through +all right. It isn't everyone in your fix that would be asking for +work." + +Ashton laughed a trifle unsteadily. "It's very kind of you to say +that, Mr. Knowles. I--I wish a steady position, winter as well as +summer." + +"How about Denver?" asked Knowles. + +"That can wait," replied Ashton. He met the girl's smile of approval, +and rallied fully. "Yes, that can wait--and so can I." + +Again the girl blushed, but she found a bantering rejoinder: "With you +and Kid and Daddy all waiting for me to come home, I suppose I'll have +to cut the season short." + +"The winters here are like those you read about up at the North +Pole," the cowman informed Ashton. "But we get our sunshine back along +in the spring." + +"Oh, Daddy! you're a poet!" cried his daughter, flinging her arm +around his sunburnt neck. + +"Wish I were one!" enviously sighed Ashton. The cowman gave him a look +that brought him to his feet. "Mr. Knowles," he hastened to ask, "if +you'll kindly tell me what my work is to be this afternoon." + +The older man's frown relaxed. "Did you come out here from Stockchute?" + +"Yes." + +"Think you could find your way back?" + +"Why, yes; though we wandered all around--But surely, Mr. Knowles, +you'll not require me--" + +"I want a man to ride over with some letters and fetch the mail. I'll +need Gowan for work you can't do. Chuckie was to have gone; but I +can't let her now, until we're more sure about that man who shot at +you." + +"I see." + +"Well, have you got the nerve, in case the man is loose over that +way?" + +Ashton's eyes flashed. "I'll go! Perhaps I'll get another crack at the +scoundrel." + +"Keep cool. It's ninety-nine chances in the hundred he's on the run +and'll keep going all week." + +"Shall I start now? As we came by a very roundabout way--We went first +in the opposite direction, and then skirted High Mesa down from the +mountains. So, you see, I may have a little difficulty--" + +"No you won't. There's our wagon trail. Even if you got off that, all +you'd have to do would be to keep headed for Split Peak. That's right +in line with Stockchute. But you'll not start till morning. I haven't +got all my letters written. That'll give you all day to go and come. +It's only twenty-five miles over there. Chuckie, you show this new +puncher of ours over the place, while I write those letters." + +"I'll start teaching him how to throw a rope," volunteered the girl. + +She led the way out through a daintily furnished front room, in which +Ashton observed an upright piano and other articles of culture that he +would never have expected to come upon in this remote section. In +passing, the girl picked up a wide-brimmed lacy hat. + +Once outside, she first took Ashton for a walk up Plum Creek to where +half a dozen men were at work with a mowing machine and horse rakes +making hay of the rich bunch-grass. + +"Daddy feeds all he can in winter," she explained. "The spring when I +first came back from Denver I cried so over the starving cattle that +he promised to always afterwards cut and stack all the hay he could. +And he has found it pays to feed well. We would put a lot of land into +oats, but, as you see, there's not enough water in the creek." + +"That's where an irrigation system would come in," remarked Ashton. + +"Oh, I hope you don't think it possible to water our mesa!" she cried. +"I told you how it would break up our range." + +"I assure you, I don't think at all," he replied. "I'm not a +reclamation engineer--never specialized on hydraulics." + +She flashed an odd look at him. "You never? But Mr. Blake--that +wonderful engineer of the Zariba Dam--he would know, wouldn't he?" + +"I--suppose he would--that is, if he--" Ashton hesitated, and +exclaimed, "But that's just it!" + +"What?" she asked. + +"Why, to--to have him come here. He's the luckiest for blundering on +ways to do things," muttered Ashton. He added with growing bitterness: +"Yes, if there's any way at all to do it, you'd have him flooding your +whole range--deluging it. He's got all those millions to back him." + +"You do not like him," said the girl. She looked off towards High +Mesa, her face glowing with suppressed excitement. "No doubt you are +right--as to his ability. But--don't you see?--if it can be done, it +is bound to be done sooner or later. All the time Daddy and I--and +Kid, too--are living under this constant dread that it may be +possible. But if such an engineer as--as Mr. Blake came and looked +over the situation and told us we needn't fear--don't you see how--?" + +"You don't mean that you--?" Ashton, in turn, left his question +unfinished and averted his face. + +"Yes," she answered. "I'm sure it will be best to put an end to this +uncertainty. So I believe I shall send for--for Mr. Blake." + +"But--why for--for him--in particular?" he stammered. + +"I am sorry you dislike him," she said, regaining her composure when +she saw that he too was agitated. + +He did not reply. She tactfully changed the subject. By the time they +had circled around, back to the half open feed-sheds, he was gayly +chatting with her on music and the drama. When they came down to the +horse corral she proceeded to lecture him on the duties of a cowboy +and showed him how to hold and throw a rope. Under her skillful +tuition, he at last learned the knack of casting an open noose. + +Evening was near when they returned to the house. As before, they +caught Knowles in the front porch contentedly puffing at his pipe. He +dropped it down out of sight. The girl shook her finger at him, nodded +to Ashton, and went indoors. Immediately the cowman put his pipe back +into his mouth and drew another from his pocket, together with an +unopened sack of tobacco. + +"Smoke?" he asked. + +Ashton's eyes gleamed. In the girl's presence he had been able to +restrain the fierce craving that had tortured him since dinner. Now it +so overmastered him that he almost snatched the pipe and tobacco out +of the cowman's hand. The latter gravely shook his head. + +"Got it that bad, have you?" he deplored. + +Ashton could not answer until his pipe was well under way. + +"I'm--I'm breaking off," he replied. "Haven't had a cigarette all +day--nor anything else. A-ah!" + +"Glad you like it," said Knowles. "A pipe is all right with this kind +of tobacco. You can't inhale it like you can cigarettes, unless you +want to strangle." + +"I shall break off entirely as soon as I can," asserted Ashton. + +"Well," considered Knowles, "I'm not saying you can't or won't. It's +mighty curious what a young fellow can do to please a pretty girl. +Just the same, I'd say from the color of Kid's fingers that he hasn't +forgotten how to roll a fat Mexican _cigaretto_.--Hello! 'Talk of the +devil--' Here he comes now." + +Gowan came around the corner of the house, his spurs jingling. His +eyes were as cold and his face as emotionless as usual. + +"Well?" asked Knowles. "Have a seat." + +"Didn't get him," reported Gowan, dropping into a chair. "Near as I +could make out, he cut straight across for the railroad, on the +jump." + +"Then it must have been that guide!" exclaimed Ashton. + +"Looks that way," added Knowles. "Glad of it. We won't see him again, +unless you want to notify the sheriff, when you ride over tomorrow." + +"No, oh, no. I am satisfied to be rid of him." + +"If he don't come back," remarked Gowan. + +"He won't," predicted Knowles. + +"Well, not for a time maybe," agreed Gowan. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A MAN'S SIZE HORSE + + +At dusk the sonorous boom of a Japanese gong gave warning of the +approach of the supper hour. A few minutes later a second booming +summoned all in to the meal. Miss Isobel sat at one end of the table; +her father at the other. Along the sides were the employes, Ashton and +Gowan at the corners nearest the girl. A large coal oil lamp with an +artistic shade cast a pink light on the clean white oilcloth of the +table and the simple tasteful table service. + +Yuki, the silent Jap, served all with strict impartiality, starting +with the mistress of the house and going around the table in regular +succession, either one way or the other. The six rough-appearing +haymakers used their knives with a freedom to which Ashton was +unaccustomed, but their faces were clean, their behavior quiet, and +their occasional remarks by no means inapt. + +After the meal they wished Miss Knowles a pleasant "Good-night," and +left for the bunkhouse. But Ashton and Gowan, at the smiling +invitation of the girl, followed her into the front room. Knowles +came in a few minutes later and, with scarcely a glance at the young +people, settled down beside a tableful of periodicals and magazines to +study the latest Government report on the reclamation service. + +Ashton had entered the "parlor" under the impression that here he +would have Gowan at a disadvantage. To his surprise, the puncher +proved to be quite at ease; his manners were correct and his +conversation by no means provincial. A moment's reflection showed +Ashton that this could not well be otherwise, in view of the young +fellow's intimacy with Miss Chuckie Isobel. + +Another surprise was the discovery that Gowan had a remarkably good +ear for music and knew even more than the girl about the masters and +their works. There was a player attachment to the piano, and the girl +and Gowan had a contest, playing the same selections in turn, to see +which could get the most expression by means of the mechanical +apparatus. If anything, the girl came out second best. At least she +said so; but Ashton would not admit it. + +Between times the three chatted on a thousand and one topics, the girl +always ready to bubble over with animation and merriment. She bestowed +her dimpled smiles on both her admirers with strict impartiality and +as impartially stimulated each to his best with her tact and gay +wit. + +At nine o'clock sharp Knowles closed his report and rose from his +comfortable seat. + +"Time to turn in, boys. Coal oil costs more than sunlight," he +announced, in the flat tone of a standing joke. "We'll take a jog down +creek to the Bar-Lazy-J ranch, first thing tomorrow, Kid.--Ashton, +you'd better start off in the cool, before sunup. Here's my bunch of +letters, case I might forget them." + +He handed over half a dozen thinly padded envelopes. Gowan was already +at the door, hat in hand. + +"Good night, Mr. Knowles. Good night, Miss Chuckie. Pleasant dreams!" +he said. + +"Same to you, Kid!" replied the girl. + +"May I give and receive the same?" asked Ashton. + +"Of course," she answered. "But wait a moment, please. I've some +letters to go, myself, if you'll kindly take them with Daddy's." + +As she darted into a side room, Knowles stepped out after Gowan. When +the girl returned, Ashton took the letters that she held out to him +and deliberately started to tie them in a packet with those of her +father. His sole purpose was to prolong his stay to the last possible +moment. But inadvertently his eye caught the name "Blake" on one of +the envelopes. His smile vanished; his jaw dropped. + +"Why, Mr. Ashton, what is the matter?" said the girl. + +"I--I beg your pardon," he replied. "I did not realize that--But it's +too absurd--it can't be! You did not mean what you said this +afternoon. It can't be you're writing to that man to come here." + +"I am," she replied. + +"But you can't--you must not. He's the very devil for doing impossible +things. He'll be sure to turn loose a flood on you--drown you +out--destroy your range!" + +"If it can be done, the sooner we know it the better," she argued. +"Daddy says little, but it is becoming a monomania with him--the +dread. I wish to put an end to his suspense. Besides, if--if this Mr. +Blake is as remarkable as you and the reports say he is, it will be +interesting to meet him. My only fear is that so great an engineer +will not think it worth while to come to this out-of-the-way +section." + +"The big four-flusher!" muttered Ashton. + +"How you must dislike him! It makes me all the more curious to see +him." + +"Does your father know about this letter?" queried Ashton. + +"You forget yourself, sir," she said. + +Meeting her level gaze, he flushed crimson with mortification. He +stood biting his lip, unable to speak. + +She went on coldly: "I do not ask you to tell me the cause of your +hatred for Mr. Blake. I assume that you are a gentleman and will not +destroy my letter. But even if you should do so, it would mean only a +short delay. I shall write him again if I receive no reply to this." + +Ashton's flush deepened. "I did not think you could be so hard. But--I +presume I deserved it." + +"Yes, you did," she agreed, with no lessening of her coldness. + +"I see you will not accept an apology, Miss Knowles. However, I give +you my word that I will deliver your letter to the postmaster at +Stockchute." + +He started out, very stiff and erect. As he passed through the doorway +she suddenly relented and called after him: "Good night, Mr. Ashton! +Pleasant dreams!" + +He wheeled and would have stepped back to reply had not Knowles spoken +to him from the darkness at the end of the porch: "This way, Ashton. +Kid is waiting to show you to the bunkhouse. You'll find a clean bunk +and new blankets. I've also issued you corduroy pants and a pair of +leather chaps from the commissary. Those city riding togs aren't +hardly the thing on the range. There's a spare saddle, if you want to +change off from yours." + +"Thank you for the other things; but I prefer my own saddle," replied +Ashton. + +He now perceived the dim form of Gowan starting off in the starlight, +and followed him to the bunkhouse. The other men were already in +their beds, fast asleep and half of them snoring. Gowan silently lit a +lantern and showed the tenderfoot to an unoccupied bunk in the far +corner of the rough but clean building. After a curt request for +Ashton to blow out the lantern when through with the light, he +withdrew, to tumble into a bunk near the door. + +Ashton removed twice as many garments as had the puncher, and slipped +in between his fresh new blankets, after several minutes spent in +finding out how to extinguish the lantern. For some time he lay +listening. He had often read of the practical jokes that cowboys are +supposed always to play on tenderfeet. But the steady concert of the +snoring sleepers was unbroken by any horseplay. Presently he, too, +fell asleep. + +He was wakened by a general stir in the bunkhouse. Day had not yet +come, but by the light of a lantern near the door he could see his +fellow employes passing out. He dressed as hastily as he could in his +gloomy corner, putting on his new trousers and the stiff leather +chapareras in place of his breeches and leggings. Gowan came in, +glanced at him with a trace of surprise, and went out with the +lantern. + +Ashton followed to the house and around into the side porch. The other +men were making their morning toilets by lantern light, each drying +face and hands on his own towel. Ashton and Gowan waited their turn +at the basins, and together went into the lamplit dining-room, where +the Jap cook was serving bacon, coffee, and hot bread. Ashton lingered +over his meal, hoping to see Miss Isobel. But neither she nor her +father appeared. + +Gowan had gone out with the other men. Presently he came back to the +side door and remarked in almost a friendly tone: "Your hawss is ready +whenever you are, Ashton." + +"Thanks," said Ashton, rising. "The poor old brute must be rather +stiff after the spurring I gave him yesterday." + +Gowan did not reply. He had gone out again. Somewhat nettled, Ashton +hastened after him. Dawn had come. The gray light in the east was +brightening to an exquisite pink. The clear twilight showed the +puncher waiting at the front of the house beside a saddled horse. A +glance showed Ashton that the saddle and bridle were his own, but that +the horse was a big, rawboned beast. + +"That's not my pony," he said. + +"This here Rocket hawss ain't _any_ pony," agreed Gowan. "He's a man's +size hawss. Ain't afraid you'll drop too far when you fall off, are +you?" + +"You're trying to get me on a bucking bronco!" said Ashton, +suspiciously eying the bony, wild-eyed brute. + +"He's no outlaw," reassured Gowan. "Most all our hawsses are liable +to prance some when they've et too many rattlers. But Miss Chuckie +said you can ride." + +"I can," said Ashton, tightening the thong of his sombrero down across +the back of his head and buttoning his coat. + +"Roped this Rocket hawss for you because Mr. Knowles wants his mail by +sundown," remarked Gowan. "He shore can travel some when he feels like +it. Don't know as you'll need your spurs. Here's a five-spot Mr. +Knowles said to hand you by way of advance. Thought you might want to +refresh yourself over at Stockchute. Wouldn't rather have another +saddle and bridle, would you?" + +"Kindly thank Mr. Knowles for me," said Ashton, pocketing the five +dollar bill. "No--the horse is hard-mouthed, but I prefer my own +saddle and bridle." + +He drew his rifle from its sheath, wiped the dew from the butt, and +tested the mechanism. The horse cocked his ears, but stood motionless +while the rifle was taken out and replaced. Ashton picked up the reins +from the ground and threw them over the horse's head. The beast did +not swing around, but his ewe neck straightened and his entire body +stiffened to a peculiar rigidity. + +Ashton tested the tightness of his saddle girth, and paused to gaze at +the closed front door of the house. Aside from his saddle and +burlesque sombrero, he looked every inch a puncher, both in dress and +in bearing. But Miss Isobel missed the effect of his new _ensemble_. +She missed also the interesting spectacle of his mounting. + +If he had never ridden a cow pony he would have been thrown and +dragged the instant he put his foot in the narrow metal stirrup. The +horse was watching him alertly, every muscle tense. Ashton smiled +confidently, spoke to the beast in a quiet tone, and pulled on the off +rein. The horse bent his head to the pull, for the moment off his +guard. In a twinkling Ashton had his foot in the stirrup and was up in +the saddle. His toe slipped into the other stirrup as the horse jumped +sideways. + +The leap was tremendous, but it failed to unseat Ashton. It was +instantly followed by other wild jumps--whirling forward and sidelong +leaps, interspersed with frantic plunging and rearing. Gowan looked +on, agape with amazement. The tenderfoot stuck fast on his flat little +saddle and only once pulled leather. Rocket was not a star bucker, but +he had thrown more than one half-baked cowboy. + +Finding that he could not unseat his rider, the beast suddenly gave +over his plunging, and bolted at furious speed down the smooth slope +towards Plum Creek. Before they had gone half a furlong Ashton +realized that he was on a blooded horse of unusual speed and a +runaway. He could not hope to pull down so tough-mouthed a beast with +his ordinary curb. The best he could do was to throw all his weight on +the right rein. Unable altogether to resist the steady tug at his +head, the racing horse gradually swerved until he was headed across +the mesa towards the jagged, snow-streaked twin crests of Split Peak. + +Horse and rider were still in the curve of their swift flight when +Isobel Knowles came out into the porch, yawning behind her plump, +sunbrowned hand. A glance at Gowan cut the yawn short. She looked +alertly afield and at once caught sight of the runaway. + +"Kid!--O-oh!" she cried. "Mr. Ashton!--on Rocket!" + +Gowan spun about to her with a guilty start, but answered almost +glibly: "You said he could ride, Miss Chuckie." + +"He'll--he'll be killed!--Daddy!" + +Knowles stepped out through the doorway, cocking his big blue-barreled +Colt's. Gowan hastily pointed towards the runaway. Knowles looked, and +dropped the revolver to his side. "What's up?" he growled. + +"Kid--he--he put Mr. Ashton on Rocket!" breathlessly answered his +daughter. + +"Sorry to contradict you, Miss Chuckie," said Gowan. "He put himself +on." + +"He's on yet," dryly commented the cowman. "May be something to that +boy, after all." + +"But, Daddy!--" + +"Now, just stop fussing yourself, honey. He and Rocket are going +smooth as axlegrease and bee-lining for Stockchute. How did the hawss +start off?--skittish?" + +"Enough to make the tenderfoot pull leather," said Gowan. + +"If he stuck at all, with that fool saddle--!" rejoined Knowles. +"Don't you worry, honey. He sure can fork a hawss--that tenderfoot." + +"Oh, yes," the girl sighed with relief. "If Rocket started off +bucking, and he kept his seat, of course it's all right. See him take +that gully!" + +"You sure gave me a start, honey, calling out that way.--Well, Kid, +it's about time we were off. I'll get my hat." + +Gowan stepped nearer the girl as her father went inside. "I'll leave +it to the tenderfoot to tell you, Miss Chuckie. He'll have to own up I +gave him fair warning. Told him he wouldn't need his spurs, and asked +if he'd have another bit and saddle; but it wasn't any use. He's the +kind that won't take advice." + +"I know you meant it as a joke, Kid. You did not realize the danger of +his narrow stirrups. Had he been caught in mounting or had he been +thrown, he would almost certainly have been dragged. And for you to +give him our one ugly hawss!" + +"You said he could ride," the puncher defended himself. + +"I'll forgive you for your joke--if he comes back safe," she +qualified, without turning her gaze from the now distant horse and +rider. + +Gowan started for the corral, the slight waddle of his bowlegged gait +rather more pronounced than usual. When Knowles came out with his hat, +the runaway was well up on the divide towards Dry Fork. Rocket was +justifying his name. + +In a few seconds the flying horse and rider had disappeared down the +far slope. The girl followed her father and Gowan to the corral, and +after they had ridden off, she roped and saddled one of the three +horses in the corral. She mounted and was off on the jump, riding +straight for the nearest point on the summit of the divide. + +As, presently, she came up towards the top of the rise, she gazed +anxiously ahead towards Dry Fork. Before she could see over the bend +down to the creek channel, she caught sight of a cloud of dust far out +on the mesa beyond the stream. She smiled with relief and wheeled +about to return. The tenderfoot had safely crossed the stream bed. He +would have Rocket well in hand before they came to rough country. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE SNAKE + + +Early in the afternoon, having nothing else to do, Isobel again +saddled up and started off towards Dry Fork. Her intention was to ride +out on the road to Stockchute and meet Ashton, if he was not too +late. + +As she rode up one side of the divide, a hat appeared over the bend of +the other side. She could not mistake the high peak of that comic +opera sombrero. Ashton was almost back to the ranch. Her first thought +was that he had gone part way, and given up the trip. The big sombrero +bobbed up and down in an odd manner. She guessed the cause even before +Ashton's head and body appeared, rising and falling rhythmically. She +stared as Rocket swept up into view, covering the ground with a +long-strided trot. + +Ashton waved to her. She waved back. A few moments later they were +close together. As she spun her pony around, he pulled in his horse to +a walk, patting the beast's neck and speaking to him caressingly. + +"Back already?" she asked. "Surely, you've not been to Stockchute--Yes, +you have!" Her experienced eye was taking in every indication of his +horse's condition. "He's been traveling; but you've handled him well." + +"He's grand!" said Ashton. "Been putting him through his paces. I +suppose he is your father's best mount." + +"Daddy and Kid ride him when they're in a hurry or there's no other +horse handy." + +"You can't mean--? Then perhaps I can have him again occasionally." + +"You like him, really?" + +"All he needs is a little management," replied Ashton, again patting +the horse's lean neck. + +"If you wish to take him in hand, I'll assign him to you. No one else +wants him." + +"As your rural deliveryman's mount--" began Ashton. He stopped to show +the bulging bag slung under his arm. "Here's the mail. Do you wish +your letters now?" + +"Thank you, no." + +"Here is this, however," he said, handing her a folded slip of paper. + +She opened it and looked at the writing inside. It was a receipt from +the postmaster at Stockchute to Lafayette Ashton for certain letters +delivered for mailing. The address of the letter to Thomas Blake was +given in full. The girl colored, bit her lip, and murmured +contritely: "You have turned the tables on me. I deserved it!" + +"Please don't take it that way!" he begged. "My purpose was merely to +assure you the letter was mailed. After all, I am a stranger, Miss +Knowles." + +"No, not now," she differed. + +"It's very kind of you to say it! Yet it's just as well for me to +start off with no doubts in your mind, in view of the fact that in two +or three weeks--" + +"Yes?" she asked, as he hesitated. + +"I--Your father will hardly keep me more than two weeks, unless--unless +I make good," he answered. + +"I guess you needn't worry about that," she replied, somewhat +ambiguously. + +He shrugged. "It is very good of you to say it, Miss Knowles. I know I +shall fail. Can you expect anyone who has always lived within touch of +millions, one who has spent more in four years at college than all +this range is worth--He cut my allowance repeatedly, until it was only +a beggarly twenty-five thousand." + +"Twenty-five thousand dollars!" exclaimed Isobel. "You had all that +to--to throw away in a single year?" + +"He cut me down to it the last year--a mere bagatelle to what I had +all the time I was at college and Tech.," replied Ashton, his eyes +sparkling at the recollection. "He wished me to get in thick with the +New Yorkers, the sons of the Wall Street leaders. He gave me leave to +draw on him without limit. I did what he wished me to do,--I got in +with the most exclusive set. Ah-h!--the way I made the dollars fly! +Before I graduated I was the acknowledged leader. What's more, I led +my class, too--when I chose." + +"When you chose!" she echoed. "And now what are you going to do?" + +The question punctured his reminiscent elation. He sagged down in his +saddle. "I don't know," he answered despondently. "_Mon Dieu!_ To come +down to this--a common laborer for wages--after _that_! When I think +of it--when I think of it!" + +"You are not to think of it again!" she commanded with kindly +severity. "What you are to remember all the time is that you are now a +man and honestly earning your own living, and no longer a--a leech +battening on the sustenance produced by others." + +He winced. "Was that my fault?" + +"No, it was your father's. I marvel that he did not utterly ruin +you." + +"He has! In his last will he cuts me off with only a dollar." + +"So that was it?--And you think that ruined you? I say it saved you!" +she went on with the same kindly severity. "You were a parasite. Now +the chance is yours to prove that you have the makings of a man. You +have started to prove it. You shall not stop proving it. You are not +going to be a quitter." + +"No!" he declared, straightening under her bright gaze. "I will not +quit. I will try my best to make good as long as the chance is given +me." + +"Now you're talking!" she commended him breezily. + +"How could I do otherwise when you asked me?" he replied with a grave +sincerity far more complimentary than mere gallantry. + +She colored with pleasure and began to tell him of the cattle and +their ways. + +When they reached the corral she complimented him in turn by allowing +him to offsaddle her horse. They walked on down to the house and +seated themselves in the porch. As he opened the bag of mail for her +she noticed that her hand was empty and turned to look back towards +the corral. + +"Your receipt from the postmaster," she remarked; "I must have dropped +it." + +He sprang up. "If you wish to keep it, I shall go back and find it for +you." + +"No, oh, no; unless you want it yourself," she replied. + +"Not I. The matter is closed, thanks to your kindness," he declared, +again seating himself. + +He was right, in so far as they were concerned. Yet the matter was +not closed. That evening, when Knowles and Gowan returned from their +day of range riding, the younger man noticed a crumpled slip of paper +lying against the foot of the corral post below the place where he +tossed up his saddle. He picked it up and looked to see if it was of +any value. An oath burst from his thin-drawn lips. + +"Shut up, Kid!" remonstrated Knowles. "I'm no more squeamish than +most, but you know I don't like any cussing so near Chuckie." + +"Look at this!" cried Gowan--"Enough to make anybody cuss!" + +He thrust out the slip of paper close before his employer's eyes. +Knowles took it and read it through with deliberate care. + +"Well?" he said. "It's a receipt from the postmaster to Ashton for +those letters I sent over by him. What of it?" + +"_Your_ letters?" asked Gowan, taken aback. "Did you write that one +what is most particularly mentioned, the one to that big engineer +Blake?" + +"No. What would I be doing, writing to him or any engineer? They're +just the people I don't want to have any doings with." + +"Then if you didn't write him, who did?" questioned Gowan, his mouth +again tightening. + +"Why, I reckon you'll have to do your own guessing, Kid--unless it +might be Ashton did it." + +"That's one leg roped," said Gowan. "Can you guess why he'd be writing +to that engineer?" + +"Lord, no. He may have the luck to know him. Mr. Blake is a mighty big +man, judging from all accounts; but money stands for a lot in the +cities and back East, and Ashton's father is one of the richest men in +Chicago. I looked it up in the magazine that told about his helping to +back the Zariba Dam project." + +"That's another leg noosed--on the second throw," said Gowan. "Another +try or two, and we'll have the skunk ready for hog-tying." + +"How's that?" exclaimed the cowman. "You've got something up your +sleeve." + +"No, it's that striped skunk that's doing the crooked playing," +snapped Gowan. "Can't you savvy his game? It's all a frame-up--his +sending off his guide and outfit, so's to let on to you he'd been +busted up and kicked out by his dad. You take him in to keep his +pretty carcass from the coyotes--which has saved them from being +poisoned." + +"Now, look here, Kid, only trouble about you you're too apt to go off +at half-cock. This young fellow may not be--" + +"He shore is a snake, Mr. Knowles, and this receipt proves it on him," +broke in the puncher. "Ain't you taken him into your employ?--ain't +you treated him like he was a man?" + +"Well, 'tisn't every busted millionaire would have asked for work, and +he seems to mean it." + +"Just a bluff! You don't savvy the game yet. Busted millionaire--_bah!_ +He's the coyote of that bunch of reclamation wolves. He comes out here +to sneak around and get the lay of things. We happen to catch him +rustling. To save his cussed carcass, he lets out about who his dad +is. Course he couldn't know we'd got all the reports on that Zariba +Dam and who backed the engineer, nor that we'd know all about Blake." + +"Well?" asked Knowles, frowning. + +"So he works us for suckers,--worms in here with us where he can learn +all about you and your holdings; ropes a job with you, and gets off +his report to that engineer Blake, first time he rides over to town." + +"Is that all your argument?" asked Knowles. + +"Ain't it enough?" rejoined Gowan. "Ain't he and that bunch all in +cahoots together? Ain't this sneaking cuss's dad either the partner or +the boss of Blake? Ain't Blake engaged in reclamation projects? You +shore see all that. What follows?--It's all a frame-up, I tell you. +Young Ashton comes out here as a sort of forerider for his concern; +finds out what his people want to know, and now he's sent in his +report to Blake. Next thing happens, Blake'll be turning up with a +surveying outfit." + +Knowles scratched his head. "Hum-m-m--You sure put up a mighty stiff +argument, Kid. I'm not so sure, though.... Um-m-m--Strikes me some of +your knots might be tighter. First place, there wasn't any play-acting +about the way the boy went plumb to pieces there at the waterhole. +Next place, a man like his father, that's piled up a mint of money, +isn't going to send out his son as forerider in a hostile country. +Lastly, I've read a lot more about that engineer Blake than you have, +and I've sized him up as a man who won't do anything that isn't square +and open." + +"Maybe he ain't in on the dirty side of the deal," admitted Gowan. +"How about this letter, though?" + +"Just a friendly writing, like as not," answered the cowman. "No, +Kid--only trouble with you is you're too anxious over the interests of +Dry Mesa range. I appreciate it, boy, and so does Chuckie. But that's +no reason for you to take every newcomer for a wolf 'til he proves +he's only a dog." + +"You won't do anything?" asked the puncher. + +"What d'you want me to do?" + +"Fire him--run him off Dry Mesa," snapped Gowan. + +"Sorry I can't oblige you, Kid," replied Knowles. "You mean well, but +you'll have to make a better showing before I'll turn adrift any man +that seems to be trying to make good." + +Gowan looked down. After a brief pause he replied with unexpected +submissiveness: "All right, Mr. Knowles. You're the boss. Reckon you +know best. I don't savvy these city folks." + +"Glad you admit it," said Knowles. "You're all wrong in sizing him up +that way. I've a notion he's got a lot of good in him, spite of his +city rearing. I wouldn't object, though, if you wanted to test him out +with a little harmless hazing, long as you didn't go too far." + +"No," declined Gowan. "I've got my own notion of what he is. There's +just one way to deal with skunks, and that is, don't fool with them." + +The cowman accepted this as conclusive. But when, a little later, +Ashton met Gowan at the supper table he was rendered uneasy by the +cold glint in the puncher's gray eyes. As nothing was said about the +postmaster's receipt, he could conjecture no reason for the look other +than that Gowan was planning to render him ridiculous with some cowboy +trick. + +Isobel had assured him with utmost confidence that the testing of his +horsemanship by means of Rocket had been intended only as a practical +joke, and that Gowan would never have permitted him to mount the horse +had he considered it at all dangerous. Yet the fellow might next +undertake jokes containing no element of physical peril and +consequently all the more humiliating unless evaded. + +In apprehension of this, the tenderfoot lay awake most of that night +and fully half of the next. His watch was fruitless. Each night Gowan +and the other men left him strictly alone in his far dark corner of +the bunkhouse. In the daytime the puncher was studiously polite to him +during the few hours that he was not off on the range. + +The third evening, after supper, Gowan handed Isobel the horny, +half-flattened rattles of an unusually large rattlesnake. + +"What is it? Do you wish me to guess his length?" she asked, evidently +surprised that he should fetch her so commonplace an object. "I make +it four feet." + +"You're three inches short," he replied. + +"Well, what about it?" she inquired. + +"Nothing--only I just happened to get him up near the bunkhouse, Miss +Chuckie. Thought I'd tell you, in case he has a mate around." + +"We must all look sharp. You, too, Mr. Ashton. They are more apt to +strike without warning, this time of year." + +"I know," remarked Ashton. "It's before they cast their old skin, and +it makes them blind." + +"Too early for that," corrected Knowles. "I figure it's the long spell +of the summer's heat. Gets on their nerves, same as with us." + +"They shore are mighty like some humans," observed Gowan. "Look at the +way they like to snuggle up in your blankets on a cool night. +Remember how I used to carry a hair rope on spring round-up?" + +"I remember that they used to crawl into the bunkhouse before the +floor was laid," said Isobel. She smiled at Ashton. "That was the Dry +Mesa reptilian age. I first learned to handle a 'gun' shooting at +rattlers. There were so many we had to make it a rule to kill everyone +we could. But there hasn't been one killed so near the house for +years." + +"They often go in pairs. This one, though, may have been a lone +stray," added Gowan. He looked at his employer. "Talking about strays, +guess I'd best go out in the morning and head back that Bar-Lazy-J +bunch. I can take an iron along and brand those two calves, same +trip." + +Knowles nodded and returned to his Government report. The two young +men and Isobel began an evening's entertainment at the piano. Ashton +enjoyed himself immensely. Though so frank and unconstrained in +manner, the girl was as truly refined as the most fastidiously reared +ladies of the East. + +At the end of the delightful evening he withdrew with Gowan to the +bunkhouse, reluctant to leave, yet aglow with pleasure. Isobel had so +charmed him that he lay in his bunk forgetful of all else than her +limpid blue eyes and dimpled cheeks. But after his two nights of +broken rest he could not long resist the heaviness that pressed +together his eyelids. He fell asleep, smiling at the recollection of +the girl's gracious, "Good-night and pleasant dreams!" + +With such a kindly wish from her, his dreams certainly should have +been heavenly. Yet he began the night by sinking into so profound a +sleep that he had no dreams whatever. When at last he did rouse to the +dream-state of consciousness, it was not to enjoy any pleasant fantasy +of music and flowers. + +He was lying in Deep Canyon, down at the very bottom of those gloomy +depths. About him was an awful stillness. The river of the abyss was +no longer roaring. It had risen up, up, up to the very rim of the +precipices--and all the tremendous weight of its waters was above him, +bearing down upon him, smothering him, crushing in his chest! He +sought to shriek, and found himself dumb. + +Suddenly an Indian stood over him, a gigantic Indian with feet set +upon his breast. The red giant was a medicine man, for he clashed and +rattled an enormous gourd full of bowlders. + +The rattle sounded sharper, shriller, more vibrant in the ears of the +rousing sleeper. His eyelids fluttered, rose a little way, and snapped +wide apart. His eyes, bared of their covers, glared in utter horror of +that which they saw. Their pupils dilated, their balls bulged as if +about to burst from the sockets. + +The weight was still on his chest,--a weight far more to be dreaded +than a canyon full of water or the foot of an Indian Titan. It was a +weight of living, quivering coils. Above those coils, clearly +illuminated in the full daylight that streamed through the open door +of the bunkhouse, there upreared a hideous gaping maw, set with four +slender curved fangs of dazzling whiteness. + +The snake's eyes, green as emeralds, glared down into the face of the +man with such intense malignancy that they seemed to stream forth a +cold evil light. Fortunately he was paralyzed with fright. The +slightest movement would have caused that fanged maw to lash down into +his face. + +Something partly obscured the light in the doorway. Ashton was too +terrified to heed. But the snake was more sensitive to the change in +the light. Without altering the deadly poise of its head, it again +sounded its shrill, menacing rattle. The shadow passed and the light +streamed in as before. The rattling ceased. There followed a pause of +a few seconds' duration--To the man every second was an age-long +period of horror. + +A faint metallic click came from across the room. Slight as was the +sound, the irritated snake again set its rattle to quivering. The +triangular head flattened back for the delayed stroke at the ashen +face of the man. The billowing coils stiffened--the stroke started. In +the same instant came a report that to the strained ears of the man +sounded like the crashing roar of a cannon. + +[Illustration: It sounded its shrill, menacing rattle] + +The head and forepart of the snake's body shot alongside his face, +writhing in swift convulsions. The first touch of its cold scales +against his cheek broke the spell of horror that had bound him. He +jerked his head aside, and flung out his left hand to push the hideous +thing from him. As his fingers thrust away the nearest coil, the head +flipped around on its half-severed neck, and the deadly jaws +automatically gaped and snapped together. Two of the dripping poison +fangs struck in the cushion of flesh on the outer edge of Ashton's +hand. With a shriek, he flung the dying snake on the floor and put the +wounded hand to his mouth. + +"He struck you!" cried the voice of Isobel, "but only on the hand, +thank goodness! Wait, I'll fix it. Lie still." + +She came swiftly across the room, thrusting a long-barreled automatic +pistol into its holster under a fold of her skirt. Her other hand drew +out a locket that was suspended in her bosom. + +"Whiskey! I'm bitten!" panted Ashton, sucking frantically at his +wounds. "Quick! I'm bitten. Give me whiskey!" + +"Steady, steady," she reassured. "It's not bad--only on your hand. +Give it to me. Here's something a thousand times better than +whiskey--permanganate." + +While speaking, she caught up his neckerchief from the head of the +bunk and knotted it about the wrist of the wounded hand tightly enough +to check the circulation. + +"Now hold it steady," she directed. "Won't have to use a knife. You +tore open the holes when you jerked off the horrid thing." + +Obedient but still sweating with fear, he held up the bleeding hand. +She had opened her locket, in which were a number of small, +dark-purple crystals. Two of the larger ones she thrust lengthwise as +deeply as she could into the little slits gashed by the fangs. Another +large and two small crystals were all that she could force into the +openings. + +"There!" she cheerily exclaimed. "That will kill the poison in short +order, and will not hurt you a particle. It's the best thing there is +to cheat rattlers,--just cheap, ordinary permanganate of potash. If +people only had sense enough always to carry a few crystals, no one +would ever die of rattlesnake bites." + +"I've--I've heard that whiskey--" began Ashton. + +"Yes, and far more victims die from the whiskey than from the bites," +rejoined Isobel. + +"But a stimulant--" + +"Stimulant, then heart depressant--first up, then down--that's +alcohol. No, you'll get only one poison, the snake's, this time. So +don't worry. You'll soon be all right. Even had you been struck in the +face, quick action with permanganate would have saved you." + +He shuddered. "Ah!... But if you had not come!" + +"It was fortunate, wasn't it?" she remarked. "I did not know you were +in here. I was going up to the corral and heard the rattle as I came +past. It was so faint that I might not have noticed it, had not Kid +told of killing the rattler yesterday." + +Ashton stared fearfully at his blackening hand. Isobel smiled and +began to unknot the neckerchief. + +"There is nothing to fear," she insisted. "That is due only to lack of +circulation. You'll soon be all right. Come up to the house as soon as +you can and get two or three cups of coffee. I'll tell Yuki." + +She hastened out. When he had made sure that the still writhing snake +was far over on the floor, he slipped from his bunk and dressed as +quickly as was possible without the use of his numbed hand. Shirt, +trousers, boots--he stopped for no more, but hurried after Isobel. +Whether because of the effects of the poison or merely as the reaction +of the shock, he felt faint and dizzy. Several cups of hot strong +coffee, however, went far towards restoring him. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +COMING EVENTS + + +Knowles had gone with Gowan to cut out and drive back the stray cattle +belonging to the adjoining range. They returned during the regular +supper hour. The cowman washed quickly and hastened in to the table. +Gowan, however, loitered just outside the door, fastening and +refastening his neckerchief. He entered the dining-room while Isobel +was in the midst of telling her father about the snake. + +"Did you hear, Kid?" she asked, when she finished her vivid account. + +"Yes, Miss Chuckie. I was slicking-up close 'longside the door. I +heard all you told," he replied as he took his seat at the corner next +to the animated girl. "We shore have got one mighty lucky tenderfoot +on this range." + +"Indeed, yes!" exclaimed Ashton. "Had not Miss Chuckie chanced to be +passing as the monster rattled--You know, she says that she might not +have heeded it but for your killing the other snake yesterday. That +put her on the alert." + +The puncher stared across the table at the city man with a coldly +speculative gaze. "You shore are a lucky tenderfoot," he repeated. +"'Tain't every fellow gets that close to a rattler this time of year +and comes out of it as easy as you have. All I can see is you're kind +of pale yet around the gills." + +Ashton held up his bandaged left hand. "Ah, but I have also this +memento of the occasion. It is far from a pleasant one, I assure +you." + +"Feels 'most as bad as a bee sting, don't it?" ironically condoled the +puncher. + +"What I can't make out," interposed Knowles, "is how that rattler got +up into Mr. Ashton's bunk." + +Gowan again stared across at the tenderfoot, this time with unblinking +solemnity. "Can't say, Mr. Knowles," he replied. "Except it might be +that desperado guide of his came around in the night and brought him +Mr. Rattler for bedfellow." + +"Oh, Kid!" remonstrated Isobel. "It's not a joking matter!" + +"No, you're dead right, Miss Chuckie," he agreed. "There shore ain't +any joke about it." + +"Ah, but perhaps I can make one," gayly dissented Ashton. "Had you not +interfered, Miss Chuckie, the poor snake would have taken one bite, +and then curled up and died. I'm so charged with nicotine, you know." + +Neither Isobel nor the puncher smiled at this ancient witticism. But +Knowles burst into a hearty laugh, which was caught up and reenforced +by the hitherto silent haymakers. + +"By--James! Ashton, you'll do!" declared the cowman, wiping his eyes. +"When a tenderfoot can let off a joke like that on himself it's a sure +sign he's getting acclimated. Yes, you'll make a puncher, some day." + +Ashton smiled with gratification, and looked at Isobel in eager-eyed +appeal for the confirmation of the statement. She smiled and nodded. + +Upon his return from his remarkable ride to town she had assured him +that he need not worry. Her present kindly look and the words of her +father might have been expected to remove his last doubts. Such in +fact was the result for the remainder of the evening. + +But that night the new employe must have given much anxious thought to +the question of his future and his great need to "make good." The +liveliness of his concern was shown by his behavior during the next +two weeks. His zeal for work astonished Knowles quite as much as his +efforts to be agreeable to his fellow employes gratified Miss Isobel. +He charmed the Japanese cook with his praise of the cooking, he +flattered the haymakers with his interest in their opinions. Towards +the girl and her father he was impeccably respectful. + +Within ten days he was "Lafe" to everybody except Gowan and the Jap. +The latter addressed him as "Mistah Lafe"; Gowan kept to the +noncommittal "Ashton." The puncher had become more taciturn than ever, +but missed none of the home evenings in the parlor. He watched Ashton +with catlike closeness when Isobel was present, and seemed puzzled +that the interloper refrained from courting her. + +"Don't savvy that tenderfoot," he remarked one day to Knowles. "All +his talk about his dad being a multimillionaire--Acted like it at the +start-off. Came down to this candidate-for-office way of comporting +himself. It ain't natural." + +"Not when he's on the same range with Chuckie?" queried the cowman, +his eyes twinkling. "Why don't you ever go into Stockchute and paint +the town red?" + +"That's another thing," insisted Gowan. "He started in with Miss +Chuckie brash as all hell. Now he acts towards her like I feel." + +"That's natural. He soon found out she's a lady." + +"No, it ain't natural, Mr. Knowles--not in him, it ain't. Nor it ain't +natural for him to be so all-fired polite to everybody, nor his +pestering you to find work for him." + +"And it's not natural for a tenderfoot to gentle a hawss like Rocket +the way he's done already," rallied Knowles. "That crazy hawss follows +him about like a dog." + +"Yes; Ashton feeds him sugar, like he does the rest of you," rejoined +the puncher. "It ain't natural in his brand of tenderfoot--Bound to +ride out, if there's any riding to do; bound to fuss and stew around +the corral; bound to help with the haying; bound to help haul the +water; bound to practice with his rope every moment he ain't doing +something else. Can't tell me there ain't a nigger in that woodpile." + +"Now, don't go to hunting out any more mares' nests, Kid," admonished +Knowles. "He's just a busted millionaire, that's all; and he's proving +he realizes it. Guess the smash scared him. He's afraid he can't make +good. Chuckie says he thinks I'll turn him adrift if he doesn't hustle +enough to earn his salt." + +"Why not fire him anyway? You don't need him, and you won't need him," +argued the puncher. + +"Well, he helps keep Chuckie entertained. With you and him both on the +place, she might conclude to stay over the winter, this year." + +Gowan's mouth straightened to a thin slit. "Better send her to Denver +right off." + +"Look here, Kid," reproved the cowman. "You've had your chance, and +you've got it yet. I've never interfered with you, and I'm not going +to with him. It's for Chuckie to pick the winner. Like as not it'll be +some man in town, for all I know. She has the say. Whether he wears a +derby or a sombrero, she's to have her own choice. I don't care if +he's a millionaire or a busted millionaire or a bronco buster, +provided he's a man, and provided I'm sure he'll treat her right." + +Gowan lapsed into a sullen silence. + +Mounted as before on Rocket, Ashton had already made a second trip to +Stockchute for mail, returning almost as quickly as on his wild first +ride. Monday of his third week at the ranch he was sent on his third +trip. As before, he started at dawn. But this time he did not come +racing back early enough for a belated noon meal as he had on each of +the previous occasions. + +By mid-afternoon Isobel began to grow uneasy. Remarkable as had been +the efforts of his new rider's training, there was the not improbable +chance that Rocket had reverted to his ugly tricks. She shuddered as +she pictured the battered corpse of the city man dragging over the +rocks and through the brush, with a foot twisted fast in one of the +narrow iron stirrups. + +Her father and Gowan were off on their usual work of inspecting the +bunches of cattle scattered about the range. The other men were as +busy as ever mowing more hay and hauling in that which was cured. She +was alone at the ranch with the Jap. At four o'clock she saddled her +best horse and rode out towards Dry Fork. She hoped to sight Ashton +from the divide. But there was no sign of any horseman out on the +wide stretch of sagebrush flats. + +She rode down to Dry Fork, crossed over the sandy channel, and started +on at a gallop along the half-beaten road that wound away through the +sagebrush towards the distant Split Peak. An hour found her nearing +the pinyon clad hills on the far side of Dry Mesa, with still no sign +of Ashton. + +By this time she had worked herself into a fever of excitement and +dread. Her relief was correspondingly great when at last she saw him +coming towards her around the bend of the nearest hill. But his horse +was walking and he was bent over in the saddle as if injured or +greatly fatigued. Puzzled and again apprehensive, she urged her pony +to sprinting speed. + +When he heard the approaching hoofs Ashton looked up as if startled. +But he did not wave to her or raise his sombrero. As she came racing +up she scrutinized his dejected figure for wounds or bruises. There +was nothing to indicate that he had been either shot or thrown. His +sullen look when she drew up beside him not unnaturally changed her +anxiety to vexation. + +"What made you so slow?" she queried. "You know how eager I am for the +mail each time. You might as well have ridden your own hawss." + +"It--has come," he muttered. + +"What?" she demanded. + +"The letter from him." + +"Him?" echoed the girl, trying hard to cover her confusion with a look +of surprise. + +His dejection deepened as he observed her heightened color and the +light in her eyes. "Yes, from him," he mumbled. + +"Oh, you mean Mr. Blake, I suppose," she replied. Lightly as she +spoke, she could not suppress the quiver of eagerness in her voice. +"If you will kindly give it to me now." + +He drew out a letter, not from among the other mail in his pouch, but +from his pocket. Her look of surprise showed that she was struck with +the oddness of this. She was too excited, however, to consider what +might be its meaning. She tore open the letter and read it swiftly. +Her sparkling eyes and glowing cheeks when she looked up served only +to increase Ashton's gloom. + +"So the fellow is coming," he groaned. "What else could I have +expected?" + +The girl held out the open letter to him. It was in typewriting, +addressed from Chicago, and read:-- + + Dear Madam: + + In reply to your letter of inquiry regarding an inspection to + determine the feasibility of irrigating certain lands in your + vicinity--my fee for personal inspection and opinion would be + $50. per day and expenses, if I came as consulting engineer. + However, I am about to make a trip to Colorado. If you can + furnish good ranch fare for my wife, son, and self as guests, + will look over your situation without charge. Wife wishes to + rough-it, but must have milk and eggs. Will leave servants in + car at Stockchute, where we shall expect a conveyance to meet us + Thursday, the 25th inst., if terms agreeable. + + Respectfully yours, + THOMAS BLAKE. + +Ashton crumpled the letter in his clenched hand as he had crumpled the +letter from his father's lawyers. + +"He is coming! he really is coming!" he gasped. "Thursday--only three +days! Genevieve too!" + +"And his son!" cried Isobel, too excited to heed the dismay in her +companion's look and tone. "He and his family, too, as my guests!" + +"Yes," said Ashton bitterly. "And what of it when he floods you off +your cattle range? By another year or two, the irrigation farmers will +be settling all over this mesa, thick as flies." + +"Oh, no; it is probable that Mr. Blake will find there is no chance to +water Dry Mesa," she replied, in a tone strangely nonchalant +considering her former expressions of apprehension. She drew the +crumpled letter from his relaxing fingers, and smoothed it out for a +second reading. + +"'Wife, son, and self,'" she quoted. "Son? How old is he?" + +"I don't know. They've been married nearly two years," muttered +Ashton. + +"Then it's a baby!--oh! oh! how lovely!" shrieked the girl. "And its +mamma wants to rough it! She shall have every egg and chicken on the +place--and gallons of cream! We shall take the skim milk." + +Still Ashton failed to enthuse. "To them that have, shall be given, +and from him who has lost millions shall be taken all that's left!" he +gibed. + +"No, we'll still have the skim milk," she bantered, refusing to notice +his cynical bitterness. + +"I'm a day laborer!" he went on, still more bitterly. "I'm afraid of +losing even my skim milk--And two weeks ago I thought myself certain +of three times the millions that he will get when her father dies!" + +"No use crying over spilt milk, or spilt cream, either!" she replied. + +The note of sympathetic concern under her raillery brought a glimmer +of hopefulness into his moody eyes. + +"If I did not think your father will drive me away!" he murmured. + +"Why should he?" she asked. + +"Because when Blake comes--" Ashton paused and shifted to a question. +"Will you tell your father about their coming?" + +"Of course. I did not tell him about writing, because it would only +have increased his suspense. But now--Let's hurry back!" + +A cut of her quirt set her pony into a lope. Rocket needed no urging. +He followed and maintained a position close behind the galloping pony +without breaking out of his rangy trot. Occasionally Isobel flung back +a gay remark over her shoulder. Ashton did not respond. He rode after +her, silent and depressed, his eyes fixed longingly on her graceful +form, ever fleeing forward before him as he advanced. + +Once clear of the sagebrush, she drew rein for him to come up. They +rode side by side across Dry Fork and over the divide. When they +stopped at the corral she would have unsaddled her pony had he not +begged leave to do her the service. As reward, she waited until he +could accompany her to the house. + +They found her father and Gowan resting in the cool porch after a +particularly hard day's ride. The puncher was strumming soft melodies +on a guitar. Knowles was peering at his report of the Reclamation +Service, held to windward of a belching cloud of pipe smoke. His +daughter darted to him regardless of the offending incense. + +"Oh, Daddy!" she cried. "What do you think! Mr. Blake is coming to +visit us!" + +"Blake?" repeated the cowman, staring blankly over his pipe. + +"Yes, Mr. Blake, the engineer--the great Thomas Blake of the Zariba +Dam." + +"By--James!" swore Gowan, dropping his guitar and springing up to +confront Ashton with deadly menace in his cold eyes. "This is what +comes of nursing scotched rattlers! This here tenderfoot skunk has +been foreriding for that engineer! I warned you, Mr. Knowles! I told +you he had sent for him to come out here and cut up our range with his +damned irrigation schemes!" + +"I send for Blake--I?" protested Ashton. He burst into a discordant +laugh. + +"Laugh, will you?" said Gowan, dropping his hand to his hip. + +The girl flung herself before him. "Stop! stop, Kid! Are you locoed? +He had nothing to do with it. I myself sent for Mr. Blake." + +"_You!_" cried Gowan. + +The cowman slowly stood up, his eyes fixed on the girl in an +incredulous stare. "Chuckie," he half whispered, "you couldn't ha' +done it. You're--you're dreaming, honey!" + +"No. Listen, Daddy! It's been growing on you so--your fear that we'll +lose our range. I thought if Mr. Blake came and told you it can't be +done--Don't you see?" + +"What if he finds it can?" huskily demanded Knowles. + +"He can't. I'm sure he can't. If he builds a reservoir, where could he +get enough water to fill it? The watershed above us is too small. He +couldn't impound more than three thousand acre feet of flood waters +at the utmost." + +"How about the whole river going to waste, down in Deep Canyon?" +queried her father. + +"Heavens, Mr. Knowles! How would he ever get a drop of water out of +that awful chasm?" exclaimed Ashton. "I looked down into it. The river +is thousands of feet down. It must be way below the level of Dry +Mesa." + +"I'm not so sure about that," replied the cowman. "Holes are mighty +deceiving." + +"Well, what if it ain't so deep as the mesa?" argued Gowan, for once +half in accord with Ashton. "It shore is deep enough, ain't it? Even +allowing that this man Blake is the biggest engineer in the U.S., +how's he going to pump that water up over the rim of the canyon? The +devil himself couldn't do it." + +"If I am mistaken regarding the depth, that is, if the river really is +higher than the mesa," remarked Ashton, "there is the possibility that +it might be tapped by a tunnel through the side of High Mesa. But even +if it is possible, it still is quite out of the question. The cost +would be prohibitive." + +"You see, Daddy!" exclaimed Isobel. "Lafe knows. He's an engineer +himself." + +"How's that?" growled her father, frowning heavily at Ashton. "You +never told me you're an engineer." + +"I told Miss Chuckie the first day I met her," explained Ashton. "Ever +since then I've been so busy trying to be something else--" + +"Shore you have!" jeered Gowan. + +"But about Mr. Blake, Daddy?" interposed Isobel. "I'm certain he'll +find that no irrigation project is possible; and if _he_ says so, you +will be able to give up worrying about it." + +"So that's your idea," he replied. "Of course, honey, you meant well. +But he's a pretty big man, according to all the reports. What if he--" +The cowman stopped, unable to state the calamity he dreaded. + +"Yes, what if?" bravely declared his daughter. "Isn't it best to know +the worst, and have it over?" + +"Well--I don't know but what you're right, honey." + +"It's your say, Mr. Knowles," put in Gowan. "If you want the +tenderfeet on your range, all right. If you don't, I'll engage to head +back any bunch of engineers agoing, and I don't care whether they're +dogies or longhorns." + +"There is to be no surveying party," explained Isobel. "Mr. Blake is +coming to visit us with his wife and baby. Here is his letter." + +"Hey?" ejaculated Knowles. He read the letter with frowning +deliberation, and passed it on to Gowan. "Well, he seems to be square +enough. Guess we'll have to send over for him, honey, long as you +asked him to come." + +"Oh, you will, Daddy!" she cried. She gave him a delicious kiss and +cuddled against his shoulder coaxingly. "You'll let me go over in the +buckboard for them, won't you?" + +"Kind of early in the season for you to begin hankering after city +folks," he sought to tease her. + +"But think of the baby!" she exclaimed as excitedly as a little girl +over the prospect of a doll. "A baby on our ranch! I simply must see +it at the earliest possible moment! Besides, it will look better for +our hospitality for me to meet Mrs. Blake at the train, since +she--That's something I meant to ask you, Lafe. What does Mr. Blake +mean by saying they will leave the servants in the car?" + +"I presume they are traveling in Mr. Leslie's private car, and will +have it sidetracked at Stockchute," answered Ashton. + +"_Whee-ew!_" ejaculated Knowles. "Private car! And we're supposed to +feed them!" + +"It is just because of the change we will give them that they are +coming out here," surmised Isobel. "Look at the letter again. Mr. +Blake expressly writes that his wife wishes to rough-it. Of course she +cannot know what real roughing-it means. But if she is coming to us +without a maid, we shall like her as much as--as Mr. Blake." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +SELF-DEFENSE + + +Nothing more was said about the trip to town until late Wednesday +evening. As Knowles slammed shut his book and the young men rose to +withdraw to the bunkhouse, he asked Gowan casually: "Got those harness +hawsses in the corral?" + +"Brought 'em in this afternoon. Greased the buckboard and overhauled +the harness. Everything's in shape," answered the puncher. + +Knowles merely nodded. Yet in the morning, immediately after the usual +early breakfast, Gowan went up to the corral and returned driving a +lively pair of broncos to the old buckboard. Ashton happened to come +around the house as Knowles stepped from the front door. The cowman +was followed by his daughter, attired in a new riding habit and a +fashionable hat with a veil. + +"You're just in time, Lafe," said Knowles. "Saddle a couple of hawsses +and follow Chuckie to town. I misdoubt that seat is cramped for three, +and a baby to boot." + +"But I--it looks quite wide to me," said Ashton, flushing and drawing +back. + +"You know the size of Blake and his lady--I don't," replied the +cowman. "Just the same, I want you to go along with Chuckie. There's +not a puncher in this section would harm her, drunk or sober; but the +fellows that come in and go out on the railroad are sometimes another +sort." + +"Of course I--if necessary," stammered Ashton. "Yet may I ask you to +excuse me? In the event of trouble, Mr. Gowan, you know--" + +"Great snakes!" called Gowan from the buckboard. "Needn't ask _me_ to +go, twice!" + +"Can't spare you today," said Knowles, his keen eyes fixed on Ashton +in unconcealed amazement. + +It was inconceivable. For the first time in his career as an employe, +the tenderfoot was attempting to evade a duty,--a duty that comprised +a fifty-mile ride in company with Miss Isobel Knowles! + +The girl looked at Ashton with a perfect composure that betrayed no +trace of her feelings. + +"I'm sure there's no reason whatever why Lafe should go, if he does +not wish to," she remarked. "Any of my hawsses will lead to the +buckboard." + +"He's going to town with you," said Knowles, his jaw setting hard with +stubborn determination. + +"Why, of course, Mr. Knowles, if you really think it necessary," +reluctantly acquiesced Ashton. He put his hand into his pocket, +shrugged, and asked in a hesitating manner: "May I request--I have +only a small amount left from that five dollars. If you consider there +are any wages owing me--Going to town, you know." + +"Lord!" said the cowman. "So that's what you stuck on. 'Fraid of +running out of change with a lady along. Here's the balance of your +first month's wages, and more, if you want it." + +He drew out a fat wallet and began counting out banknotes. + +"Oh, no, not so many," said Ashton. "I wish only what you consider as +owing to me now." + +"You'll take an even hundred," ordered Knowles, forcing the money on +him. "A man doesn't feel just right in town unless he's well heeled. +Only don't show more than a ten at a time in the saloon." + +"You have chosen me to act as your daughter's escort," replied +Ashton. + +Quick to catch the inference of his remark, Isobel flashed him a look +of approval, but called banteringly as she darted out to the +buckboard: "Better move, if you expect to get near enough to escort +me, this side of Stockchute." + +Gowan sprang down to hand her into the buckboard. She took the reins +from him and spoke to the fidgetting broncos. They plunged forward and +started off on a lope. Ashton perceived that she did not intend to +wait for him. He caught Gowan's look of mingled exultance and envy, +and dashed for the corral. Rocket was outside, but at his call trotted +to meet him, whinnying for his morning's lump of sugar. Ashton flung +on saddle and bridle, and slipped inside the corral to rope his own +pony. Haste made him miss the two first throws. At last he noosed the +pony, and slapped on the girl's saddle and bridle. + +As he raced off, pounding the pony with his rope to keep him alongside +Rocket, Knowles waved to him from the house. He had saddled up in less +than twice the time that Gowan could have done it,--which was a record +for a tenderfoot. He waved back, but his look was heavy despite the +excitement of the pursuit. + +He expected to overtake Isobel in a few minutes. This he could have +done had he been able to give Rocket free rein. But he had to hold +back for the slower-gaited pony. Also, the girl had more of a start +than he had at first realized, and she did her best to hold the +handicap. Hitched to the light buckboard, her young broncos could have +run a good part of the way to Stockchute. She was far out on the flat +before she at last tired of the wild bumping over ruts and sagebrush +roots, and pulled her horses down to a walk. + +"I could have kept ahead clear across to the hills," she flung back at +him as he galloped up. + +"You shouldn't have been so reckless!" he reproached. "Every moment +I've been dreading to see you bounced out." + +"That's the fun of it," she declared, her cheeks aglow and eyes +sparkling with delight. + +"But the road is so rough!" he protested. "Wouldn't it be easier for +you to ride my pony? He's like a rocking-chair." + +"No," she refused. But she smiled, by no means ill pleased at his +solicitude for her comfort. She halted the broncos, and said +cordially: "Tie the saddle hawsses to the back rail, and pile in. We +may as well be sociable." + +He hastened to accept the invitation. She moved over to the left side +of the seat and relinquished the lines to him. With most young ladies +this would have been a matter-of-course proceeding; from so +accomplished a horsewoman it was a tactful compliment. He appreciated +it at its full value, and his mood lightened. They rattled gayly +along, on across the flats, up and down among the pinyon clad hills, +and through the sage and greasewood of the valleys. + +He had thought the country a desolate wilderness; but now it seemed +a Garden of Eden. Never had the girl's loveliness been more +intoxicating, never had her manner to him been more charming and +gracious. He could not resist the infection of her high spirits. For +the greater part of the trip he gave himself over to the delight of +her merry eyes and dimpling, rosy cheeks, her adorable blushes and +gay repartee. + +All earthly journeys and joys have an ending. The buckboard creaked up +over the round of the last and highest hill, and they came in sight of +the little shack town down across the broad valley. Though five miles +away, every house, every telegraph pole, even the thin lines of the +railroad rails appeared through the dry clear air as distinct as a +miniature painting. Miles beyond, on the far side of the valley, +uprose the huge bulk of Split Peak, with its white-mantled shoulders +and craggy twin peaks. + +But neither Ashton nor Isobel exclaimed on this magnificent view of +valley and peak. Each fell silent and gazed soberly down at the dozen +scattered shacks that marked the end of their outward trip. Rapidly +the gravity of Ashton's face deepened to gloom and from gloom to +dejection. The horses would have broken into a lope on the down grade. +He held them to a walk. + +Chancing to gaze about and see his face, the girl started from her +bright-eyed daydream. "Why, Lafe! what is it?" she inquired. "You look +as you did the other day, when you brought the mail." + +"It's--everything!" he muttered. + +"As what?" she queried. + +He shrugged hopelessly, hesitated, and drew out the roll of bills +forced on him by Knowles. "Tell me, please, just how much of this is +mine, at your father's usual rate of wages, and deducting the real +value of that calf." + +"Why, I can't just say, offhand," she replied. "But why should you--" + +"I shall tell you as soon as--but first--" He drew out his watch. +"This cost me two hundred and fifty dollars. It is the only thing I +have worth trading. Would you take it in exchange for Rocket and the +balance of this hundred dollars over and above what is due me?" + +"Why--no, of course, I wouldn't think of such a thing. It would be +absurd, cheating yourself that way. Anyhow, Rocket is your horse to +ride, as long as you wish to." + +"But I would like him for my own. How about trading him for my pony +and the wages due me?" + +"Well, that wouldn't be an unfair bargain. Your hawss is the best cow +pony of the two." + +"It is very kind of you to agree, Miss Chuckie! Here is all the +money; and here is the watch. I wish you to accept it from me as +a--memento." + +"Mr. Ashton!" she exclaimed, indignantly widening the space between +them as much as the seat would permit. + +"Please!" he begged. "Don't you understand? I am going away." + +"Going away?" she echoed. + +"Yes." + +"But--why?" + +"Because he is coming." + +"Mr. Blake?" + +"Yes. I cannot stay after he--" + +"But why not? Has he injured you? Are you afraid of him?" + +"No. I'm afraid that you--" Ashton's voice sank to a whisper--"that +you will believe what he--what they will say against me." + +"Oh!" she commented, her expression shifting swiftly from sympathetic +concern to doubt. + +He caught the change in her look and tone, and flushed darkly. + +"There are sometimes two sides to a story," he muttered. + +"Tell me your side now," she suggested, with her usual directness. + +His eyes fell before her clear honest gaze. His flush deepened. He +hung his head, biting his twisted lip. After several moments he began +to speak in a hesitating broken murmur: + +"I've always been--wild. But I graduated from Tech.--not at the foot +of my class. My father--always busy piling up millions--never a word +or thought for me, except when I overspent my allowance. I was in +a--fast set. My father--threatened me. I had to make good. I took a +position in old Leslie's office--Genevieve's father. I--" + +He paused, licked his lips, hesitated, and abruptly went on again, +this time speaking with almost glib facility: "There was an engineers' +contest for a projected bridge over Michamac Strait. I started to draw +plans, that I might enter the contest, but I did not finish in time. +The plans of the other engineers were all rejected. I continued to +work on mine. After the contest I happened to pick up a piece of torn +plan out of the office wastebasket, and it gave me a suggestion how to +improve the central span of my bridge." + +"Yes?" asked the girl, her interest deepening. + +He again licked his lips, hesitated, and continued: "There was no +name on that torn plan--nothing to indicate to whom it had belonged. +So I used it--that is, the suggestion I got from it, and was awarded +the bridge on my plans. This made me the Resident Engineer of the +bridge, and I had it almost completed when this man Blake came back +from Africa after Genevieve, and claimed that I had--had stolen his +plans of the bridge. It seems they were lost in Mr. Leslie's office. +He claimed he had handed them in to me for the contest. But so had +all the other contestants, and their plans were not lost. It may have +been that one of the doorkeepers tore his plans up, out of +revenge. Blake was a very rough brute of a fellow at that time. He +quarreled with the doorkeeper because the man would not admit him +to see Mr. Leslie--threatened to smash him. Afterwards he accused +Mr. Leslie of stealing his plans." + +"Oh, no, no! he couldn't have done that! He can't be that kind of a +man!" protested Isobel. + +"It's true! Even he will not deny it. Old Leslie thought him +crazy--then. It was different when he came back and accused me! He had +been shipwrecked with Genevieve. They were alone together all those +weeks, and so one can--" Ashton checked himself. "No, you must not +think--He saved her. When they came back he claimed the bridge as his +own--those lost plans." + +"His plans? So that was it! And you--?" + +"Of course they believed him. What was my word against his with +Genevieve and Leslie. Leslie's consulting engineer was an old pal of +Blake's. So of course I--I'll say though that Blake agreed to put it +that I had only borrowed his idea of the central span." + +"That was generous of him, if he really believed--" + +"Did he?--did Genevieve? Do they believe it now? You see why I must go +away." + +"I don't any such thing," rejoined the girl. + +"You don't?" he exclaimed. "When they are coming here, believing I +did it! They must believe it, all of them! And my father--after all +this time--They agreed not to tell him. Yet he has found out. That +letter, up at the waterhole--it was from his lawyers. He had cut me +off--branded me as an outcast." + +"Without waiting to hear your side--without asking you to explain? How +unjust! how unfair!" cried Isobel. + +Ashton winced. "I--I told you I--my record was against me. But I was +his son--he had no right to brand me as a--a thief! My valet read the +letter. He must have told the guide--the scoundrels!" + +Tears of chagrin gathered in the young man's dark eyes. He bit his lip +until the blood ran. + +"O-o-oh!" sighed the girl. "It's all been frightfully unjust! You +haven't had fair play! I shall tell Mr. Blake." + +"No, not him!--not him!" Ashton's voice was almost shrill. "All I wish +is to slip away, before they see me." + +"You don't mean, run away?" she said, quietly placing her little +gauntlet-gloved hand on his arm. "You're not going to run away, +Lafe." + +"What else?" he asked, his eyes dark with bitter despair. "Would you +have me return, to be booted off the range when they tell your +father?" + +"Just wait and see," she replied, gazing at him with a reassuring +smile. "You've proved yourself a right smart puncher--for a +tenderfoot. You're in the West, the good old-style West, where it's a +man's present record that counts; not what he has been or what he has +done. No, you're not going to run. You're going to face it out--and +going to stay to learn your new profession of puncher and--_man_!" + +"But they will not wish to associate with me." + +"Yes, they will," she predicted. "I shall see to that." + +He took heart a little from her cheery, positive assurance. "Well, if +you insist, I shall not go until they show--" + +"They'll not recognize you at first. That will give me a chance to +speak before they can say anything disagreeable. I'm sure Mr. Blake +will understand." + +"But--Genevieve?" + +"If she married him when he was as rough as you say, and if he agrees +to let bygones be bygones, you need have no fear of Mrs. Blake. Only +be sure to go into raptures over the baby. Tell her it's the perfect +image of its father." + +"What if it isn't?" objected Ashton gloomily. + +She dimpled. "One must allow for the difference in age; and there's +always some resemblance--each must have a mouth and eyes and ears and +a nose." + +He caught himself on the verge of laughter. Her eyes were fixed upon +him, pure and honest and dancing with mirth. A sudden flood of +crimson swept up his face from his bristly, tanned chin to his white +forehead. He averted his gaze from hers. + +"You're _good_!" he choked out. "I don't deserve--But I can't go--when +you tell me to stay!" + +"Of course you can't," she lightly rejoined. "Look! There's the train +coming. Push on the lines!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE MEETING + + +A word started the horses into a lope. The buckboard was whirled along +over the last two miles to Stockchute in a wild race against the +train. The steam horse won. It had sidetracked the private car +attached to the rear of the last pullman and was puffing away +westward, when Ashton guided his running team in among the crude +shacks of the town. He swung around at a more moderate pace towards +the big chute for cattle-loading, and fetched up a few yards out from +the rear step of the private car. + +An assiduous porter had already swung down with a box step. A big, +square-faced, square-framed man of twenty-eight or thirty stepped out +into the car vestibule. He sprang to the ground as Miss Knowles +stepped from the buckboard. She had lowered her veil, but it failed to +mask the extreme brilliancy of her eyes and her quick changes of +color. Her face, flushed from the excitement of the race into town, +went white when she first saw the man in the vestibule; flushed again +when he sprang down; again paled; and, last of all, glowed radiantly +as she advanced to meet him. + +He hastened to her, baring his big head of its Panama, and staring at +her fashionable hat and dress in frank surprise. + +"Mr. Blake!" she murmured. + +At the sound of her voice he started and fixed his light blue eyes on +her veiled face with a keen glance. She turned pale and as quickly +blushed, as if embarrassed by his scrutiny. + +"Excuse me!" he apologized. "You are Miss Knowles?" + +"Yes," she murmured. + +"Knowles?" he repeated, half to himself. "Strange! Haven't I met you +before?" + +"In Denver?" she suggested. "I spend my winters in Denver. But there +was one in Europe." + +"No, it wouldn't be either. You must excuse me, Miss Knowles. There +was something about your voice and face--rather threw me off my +balance. If you'll kindly overlook the bungling start-off! I'm greatly +pleased to meet you. My wife will be, too. May I ask you to step +aboard the car?--No, here she is now." + +A graceful, rather small lady, dressed with elegant simplicity, had +come out into the car vestibule. + +"Jenny, here's Miss Knowles now," said Blake. "She came to meet us +herself." + +"That was very good of you, Miss Knowles," said the lady, as the two +advanced towards her. "We are very glad to meet you. Will you not +come up out of the sun?" + +The white-uniformed porter promptly stood at attention. Blake as +promptly offered his hand. The girl accepted his assistance and +mounted the car steps with an absence of awkwardness instantly noted +by Mrs. Blake. That lady held out a somewhat thin white hand as Isobel +drew off her gauntlet gloves. But she did not stop with the light firm +handclasp. Lifting the girl's veil, she kissed her full on her coral +lips. + +"We shall be friends," she stated, a smile in her hazel eyes. + +"I hope so," murmured the girl, blushing with delight. "The only +question is whether you will like me." + +Mrs. Blake patted the plump, sunbrowned hand that she had not yet +relinquished. She was little if any older than the girl, but her air +was that of matronly wisdom. "My dear, can you doubt it? I was +prepared to like even the kind of young woman my husband told me to +expect." + +"Bronco Bess, Queen of the Cattle Camp," suggested the girl, dimpling. +"Wait till you see me rope and hogtie a steer." + +Mrs. Blake smiled, and looked across at Ashton, who sat motionless +under the shadow of his big sombrero, his face half averted from the +car. + +"I've a real surprise for you," said the girl. "Mr. Blake, if I may +tell it to you also." + +Blake swung up the steps, hat in hand. "It can't be half as pleasant +as the surprise you've already given us," he said. + +"I fear not," she replied, with a quick change to gravity. She looked +earnestly into their faces. "Still, I hope--yes, I really believe it +will please you when you consider it. But first, I want to tell you +that out here it's our notion that a man should be rated according to +his present life, and not blamed for his past mistakes." + +"Certainly not!" agreed Mrs. Blake, with a swift glance at her +husband. "If a man has mounted to a higher level, he should be upheld, +not dragged down again." + +"That's good old-style Western fair play," added Blake. + +"I'm so glad you take it that way!" said Isobel. "A young man utterly +ruined in fortune--partly at least through his own fault--came to us +and asked to be hired. He has been a hard worker and a gentleman. His +name is Lafayette Ashton." + +"Ashton?" said Blake, his face as impassive as a granite mask. + +"Yes. He has told me all about the bridge. He wished to go away, +because he thought you and Mrs. Blake would not like to meet him. I +told him you would be willing to let bygones be bygones, and help him +start off with a new tally card." + +"Lafayette Ashton working--as a cowboy!" murmured Mrs. Blake. + +"He is still a good deal of a tenderfoot. But he is learning fast; and +work!--the way he pesters Daddy to find him something to do!" + +"He certainly must be a changed man," dryly commented Blake. + +"_Cherchez la femme_," said his wife. + +"Mrs. Blake!" protested the girl, blushing. + +"What's that?" he asked. + +"'Find the woman,'" explained Mrs. Blake. + +"That's easy," he said, fixing his twinkling eyes on the rosy-faced +girl. + +"But I'm sure it has not been because of me--at least not altogether," +she qualified with her uncompromising honesty. + +"I wouldn't blame him even if it was altogether," said Blake. + +"Then you will be willing to overlook your past trouble with him?" + +"Since you say he has straightened out--yes." + +"That's good of you! That's what I expected of you!" exclaimed the +girl. "That is he, in the buckboard." + +Without a word, Blake started down the car steps. + +"Bring him here at once, Tom," said Mrs. Blake. + +Her husband went up beside the motionless figure in the buckboard and +held out his hand. "Glad to meet you, Ashton," he said with +matter-of-fact heartiness. "Jenny wants you to come to her. We're not +ready to start, as we were not certain we would be met." + +"Miss--Mrs. Blake wishes me to come!" mumbled Ashton. + +"Yes," said Blake, gripping the other's hesitatingly extended hand. + +Ashton flushed darkly. "But I--I can't leave the horses," he replied. + +Blake signed to the porter, who hastened forward. "Hold the lines for +this gentleman, Sam." + +Ashton reluctantly gave the lines into the mulatto's sallow hands and +stepped from the buckboard. His head hung forward as he followed +Blake. But at the foot of the steps he removed his sombrero and forced +himself to look up. Isobel was smiling down at him encouragingly. He +looked from her to Mrs. Blake, his handsome face crimson with shame. + +"How do you do, Lafayette?" Mrs. Blake greeted him with quiet +cordiality. "This is a pleasant surprise." + +"Yes--yes, indeed! I--yes, very!" he stammered, so embarrassed that he +would have stuck at the foot of the steps had not Blake started him up +with a vigorous boost. + +Mrs. Blake gave him her hand. "You look so strong and hearty!" she +remarked. "It speaks well for the fare Miss Knowles provides." + +"Oh, that credit is due our Jap chef," laughed the girl. "I can cut +out a cow from the herd better than I can bone a chop. But the butter +and eggs and cream that are awaiting you--Which reminds me that we've +yet to see It." + +"It?" asked Blake. + +"Yes, him--the _baby_!" + +"Oh, you dear girl!" cooed Mrs. Blake. "Come in and see him." + +Isobel followed her into the car. Blake nodded to Ashton. But the +younger man shrank away from the door. + +"If you'll kindly excuse me," he muttered. "It would remind me too +much of--the time when--No, I'd rather not." + +"Of course," assented Blake with ready understanding. "How do you like +this country? I went through here once on a railway survey. It's rare +good luck--this chance to visit Miss Knowles. Jenny is a little run +down, as you see." + +"I shall trust that her visit to this locality will soon quite restore +her," remarked Ashton. + +"It will. The doctors said Maine; I said Colorado. It has done you no +end of good. You are looking particularly fine and fit." + +"It has helped me--in more ways than one," murmured Ashton. + +"Glad to hear you say it!" responded Blake in hearty approval. + +Ashton turned from him as Isobel appeared in the doorway, cuddling a +lusty, rosy-cheeked baby. The mother hovered close behind her. + +"Look at him!" jeered Blake with heavily feigned derision. "Did you +ever see such a big, fat, lubberly--" + +"Yes, look at him, Lafe," said the girl, stepping out into the +vestibule. "He is only a yearling, but isn't he just the perfect image +of his father?" + +Ashton burst into a ringing laugh, but abruptly checked himself at +sight of the sober face of the young mother. "I--I beg pardon!" he +stammered. "I--she--Miss Knowles--that is what she told me to tell you +about him." + +"And you didn't play up worth a little bit, Lafe!" complained the +girl. + +It was Blake's turn to laugh. "You--!" he accused. "Schemed to frame +up a case on us did you!" + +His wife smiled faintly, not altogether certain that an aspersion had +not been cast upon her chuckling son. + +"But it's partly true, really," remarked Ashton, peering at the baby's +big pale-blue eyes. + +Blake burst into a hilarious roar. But Mrs. Blake now beamed upon +Ashton. "Then you, too, see the resemblance, Lafayette! Isn't it +wonderful, and he so young? His name is Thomas Herbert Vincent Leslie +Blake.--Now, my dear, if you please, I shall take him in. We must be +preparing to start, if it is so long a drive." + +"Do let me hold him until you and Mr. Blake are ready," begged the +girl. + +"I am not quite sure that--You will be careful not to drop him? He is +tremendously strong, and he squirms," dubiously assented the fond +mother. "Come, Tom. We must not keep Miss Knowles waiting." + +Blake disappeared with her into the luxuriously furnished car. + +"Isn't he a dear?" cooed the girl, clasping the baby to her bosom and +kissing his chubby clenched hands. He stared up into her glowing face +with his round light-blue eyes. "Thomas Blake!--Tom Blake!" she +whispered. + +Ashton did not heed the words. He was gazing too intently at the girl +and the child. His eyes glistened with a wonderment and longing so +exquisitely intense that it was like a pain. The girl sank down in one +of the cane chairs and laid the baby on his back. He kicked and +gurgled, seized one of his upraised feet and thrust a pink big toe in +between his white milk teeth. + +"That's more than you can do, Lafe!" challenged the girl. + +She glanced up, dimpling with merriment,--met the adoration in his +eyes, and looked down, blushing. He attempted to speak, but the words +choked into an incoherent sound like a sob. He jumped from the car and +hurried to take the lines from the porter. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE OTHER LADY'S HUSBAND + + +Miss Knowles did not seem to observe Ashton's deflection. She remained +worshipfully downbent over the wriggling, chuckling baby until its +parents reappeared. + +Mrs. Blake had changed to an easy and serviceable dress of plain, +strong material. The skirt, cut to walking length, showed that +her feet and ankles were protected by a pair of absurdly small +laced boots. Her husband had shifted to an equally serviceable +costume--flannel shirt, broad-brimmed felt hat, and surveyor's +boots. + +"Crossing the plains we packed a trunk with what we considered most +necessary," said Mrs. Blake, as she took the baby. "It is not a large +one, and in addition there is only my satchel and the level and the +lunch my maid is putting up for us." + +"There is room for more, if you wish," replied Isobel. "But we can +send over here for anything you need, any time." + +"You're not going to let us really rough-it!" complained Mrs. Blake, +as her husband swung her to the ground. "Were it not for Thomas +Herbert--" + +"--We'd go to Africa again and eat lions," Blake completed the +sentence. "Wait, though--we may have a chance at mountain lions." + +The porter had gone to help a manservant fetch the trunk from the +other end of the car. Isobel untied the saddle horses from the rear of +the buckboard. The trunk was lifted in, and Blake lashed it on, +together with his level rod and tripod, using Ashton's lariat. + +"Level is in the trunk," he explained, in response to Ashton's look of +inquiry. "I suppose we ride." + +"I think it will be better if Lafe drives," objected Isobel. "I am so +reckless, and you don't know the road, as he does. The only thing is +Rocket--Lafe has about trained him out of his tricks. But I should +warn you that the hawss has been rather vicious." + +"Tom will ride him," confidently stated Mrs. Blake. + +Her husband took the bridle reins of the big horse and mounted him +with the agility of a cowboy. For a moment Rocket stood motionless. +Then, whether because of Blake's weight or the fact that he was a +stranger, all the beast's newly acquired docility vanished. He began +to plunge and buck even more violently than when first mounted by +Ashton. + +Half a hundred Stockchuteites--all the residents of the town and +several floaters--had come down to inspect the palatial private car +and its passengers. At Rocket's first leap these highly interested +spectators broke into a murmur of joyful anticipation. They were about +to see the millionaire tenderfoot pull leather. + +Yet somehow the event failed to transpire. Blake sat the flat saddle +as if glued fast to it. His knees and legs were crushing against the +sides of the leaping, whirling beast with the firmness of an iron +vise. He held both hands upraised, away from the "leather." + +Presently Rocket's efforts began to flag. Instead of seeking to quiet +the frantic beast, Blake began to whoop and to strike him with his +hat. Thus taunted, Rocket resorted to his second trick. He took the +bit in his teeth and started to bolt. The crowd scattered before +the rush of the runaway. But they need not have moved. Blake +reached down on each side of the beast's outstretched neck and +pulled. Tough-mouthed as he was, Rocket could not resist that +powerful grip. His head was drawn down and backwards until his trumpet +nostrils blew against his deep chest. After half a dozen wild plunges, +he was forced to a stand, snorting but subdued. + +"That's some riding, Miss Chuckie!" called the burly sheriff of the +county. "Your guest forks a hawss like a buster." + +The girl rode forward beside Blake, her face radiant. She paid him the +highest of compliments by taking his riding as a matter of course; but +in her eyes was a look strangely like that of his wife's fond gaze,--a +look of pride at his achievement, rather than admiration. + +"We'll ride ahead of the team to keep clear of the dust," she +remarked. + +He twisted about and saw that Ashton was starting to drive after them. +His wife's elderly maid was waving her handkerchief from one of the +car windows. The porter and the manservant stood at attention. He +exchanged a nod and smile with his wife, patted Rocket's arched neck +and clicked to him to start. + +"This is great, Miss Knowles!" he said. "I did not look for such fun, +first crack out of the box. And--if you don't mind my saying it--it's +such a jolly surprise your being what you are." + +The girl blushed with pleasure. "I--we have been so eager to meet +you," she murmured. She added hurriedly, "On account of your wonderful +work as an engineer, you know." + +"I wouldn't have suspected Ashton of bragging for me," he replied. + +"Oh, he--he says you have a remarkable knack of hitting on the +solution of problems. But it's in the engineering journals and reports +that we've read about your work. Perhaps that is why you thought we +had met before. After reading about you so much, I felt that I already +knew you, and so my manner, you know--" + +He shook his head at this seemingly ingenuous explanation. "No, there +is something about your voice and face--" His eyes clouded with +the grief of a painful memory; his head sank forward until his square +chin touched his broad chest. He muttered brokenly: "But that's +impossible.... Anyway--better for them they died--better than to +live after...." + +Behind her veil the girl's face became deathly white. He raised his +head and looked at her with a wistful gleam of hope. She had averted +her face from him and was gazing off at the hills with dim unseeing +eyes. + +"Pardon me, Miss Knowles," he said, "but do you mind if I ask what is +your first name?" + +She hesitated almost imperceptibly before replying: "I am called +Chuckie--Chuckie Knowles. Doesn't that sound cowgirlish? We always +have a chuck-wagon on the round-ups, you know. But it's a name that +used to be quite common in the West." + +"Yes, it comes from the Spanish Chiquita," he said. He repeated the +word with the soft caressing Spanish accent, "_Che-kee-tah!_" + +A flood of scarlet swept up into the girl's pallid face, and slowly +subsided to her normal rich coloring. After a short silence she asked +in a conventional tone: "I suppose you are glad to get away from +Chicago. The last papers we received say that the East is sweltering +in one of those smothery heat waves." + +"It's the humidity and close air that kills," said Blake. "I ought to +know. I lived for years in the slums." + +"Oh, you--you really speak of it--openly!" the girl exclaimed. + +"What of it?" he asked, astonished in turn at her lack of tact. + +"Nothing--nothing," she hastened to disclaim. "Only I know--have read +about the dreadful conditions in the Chicago slums. It is--it must be +so painful to recall them--That was so rude of me to--" + +"Not at all," he interrupted. To cover her evident confusion he held +up his white hand in the scorching sunrays and commented jovially: +"Talk about Eastern heat--this is a hundred and five Fahrenheit at the +very least! A-a-ah!" He drew in a deep breath of the dry pure air. +"This is something like! When you get your land under ditch, you'll +have a paradise." + +"Oh, but you do not understand," she replied. "We want you to find out +and tell us that Dry Mesa _cannot_ be watered. Irrigation would break +up Daddy's range and put him out of business. It is just what we do +not want." + +"I see," said Blake, with instant comprehension of the situation. + +"I know it cannot be done. But there are so many reclamation projects, +and Daddy has read and read about them until he almost has a bee in +his bonnet." + +"Yet you sent for me--an engineer." + +"Because I knew that when _you_ told him our mesa couldn't be watered, +he would stop worrying. You know, you are quite a hero with us. We +have read all about your wonderful work." + +Blake's pale eyes twinkled. "So I'm a hero. Will you dynamite my +pedestal if I figure out a way to water your range?" + +She flashed him a troubled glance, but rallied for a quick rejoinder: +"Even you can't pump the water out of Deep Canyon, and Plum Creek is +only a trickle most of the year." + +"I see you want me to make my report as dry as I can write it," he +bantered. + +"No," she replied, suddenly serious. "We wish the exact truth, though +we hope you'll find it dry." + +"Then you are to blame if the matter does not figure out your way," he +warned her. "You've given me a problem. If there is any possible way +for me to irrigate your mesa, I am bound to try my best to work it +out. Hadn't you better head me off before I start in? At present I +haven't the remotest desire to do this except to comply with your +wishes." + +"It's as I told Daddy," she said. "If there really is a way, the +sooner we know it the better. It is the uncertainty that is bothering +Daddy. If your report is for us, all well and good; if against us, he +will stand up and fight and forget about worrying." + +"Fight?" asked Blake. + +"Fight the project, fight against the formation of any irrigation +district. He owns five sections. The reservoir might have to be on his +patented land. He'd fight fair and square and hard--to the last +ditch!" + +"Isn't that a Dutchman's saying?" asked Blake humorously. + +The girl's tense face relaxed, and she burst out in a ringing laugh. +She shifted the conversation to less serious subjects, and they +cantered along together, laughing and chatting like old friends. + +By this time Ashton and Mrs. Blake had gradually come to the same +stage of pleasant comradeship. Ashton had started the drive in a +sullen mood, his manner half resentful and wholly embarrassed. Of this +the lady was tactfully oblivious. Avoiding all allusion to the +catastrophe that had befallen him, she told him the latest news of the +mutual friends and acquaintances in whom ordinarily he would have been +expected to be interested. + +She even spoke casually of his father. His face contracted with pain, +but he showed no bitterness against the parent who had disowned him. +After that her graciousness towards him redoubled. With Isobel for +excuse, she gradually shifted the conversation to ranch life and his +employment as cowboy. In many subtle ways she conveyed to him her +admiration of the manner in which he had turned over a new leaf and +was making a clean fresh start in life. + +After delicately intimating her feelings, she at once turned to less +personal topics. The last traces of his embarrassment and moodiness +left him, and he began to talk quite at his ease, though with a +certain reserve that she attributed to the vast change in his +fortunes. In return for her kindness, he repaid her by showing a real +interest in Thomas Herbert Vincent Leslie Blake. + +That young man spent his time chuckling and crowing and kicking, until +overcome with sleep. Two hours out from Stockchute he awoke and +vociferously demanded nourishment. Promptly the party was brought to a +halt. They were among the pinyons on one of the hillsides. While the +baby took his dinner, Isobel laid out the lunch and the men burned +incense in the guise of a pair of Havana cigars produced by Blake. + +The lunch might have been put up in the kitchen of a first-class +metropolitan hotel. The fruit was the most luscious that money could +buy; the sandwiches and cake would have tempted a sated epicure; the +mineral water had come out of an ice chest so nearly frozen that it +was still refreshingly cool. But--what was rather odd for a lunch +packed in a private car--it included no wine or whiskey or liqueur. +Blake caught Ashton's glance, and smiled. + +"You see I'm still on the waterwagon," he remarked. "I've got a +permanent seat. There have been times when it looked as if I might be +jolted off, but--" + +"But there's never been the slightest chance of that!" put in his +wife. She looked at Isobel, her soft eyes shining with love and pride. +"Once he gets a grip on anything, he never lets go." + +"Oh, I can believe that!" exclaimed the girl with an enthusiasm that +brought a shadow into the mobile face of Ashton. + +"A man can't help holding on when he has something to hold on for," +said Blake, gazing at his wife and baby. + +"That's true!" agreed Ashton, his eyes on the dimpled face of Isobel. + +Refreshed by the delicious meal, the party prepared to start on. But +they did not travel as before. While Ashton was considerately washing +out the dusty nostrils of the horses with water from his canteen, +Isobel decided to drive with Mrs. Blake. Declaring that it would be +like old times to sit a cowboy saddle, the big engineer lengthened the +girl's stirrup leathers and swung on to the pony. This left Rocket to +his owner. + +At first Ashton seemed inclined to be stiff with his new road-mate. +But as they jogged along, side by side, over the hills and across the +sagebrush flats, Blake restricted his talk to impersonal topics and +spared his companion from any allusion to their past difficulties. +Throughout the ride, however, the two men maintained a certain reserve +towards each other, and at no time approached the cordial intimacy +that developed between the girl and Mrs. Blake before the end of their +first mile together. + +After telling merrily about her dual life as summer cowgirl and winter +society maiden, Isobel drifted around, by seemingly casual association +of ideas, to the troublesome question of irrigation on Dry Mesa, and +from that to Blake and his work as an engineer. + +"I do so hope Mr. Blake finds that there is no project practicable," +she went on. "He has warned me that if there seems to be any chance to +work out an irrigation scheme on our mesa he is bound to try to do +it." + +"And he would do it," added Mrs. Blake with quiet confidence. + +"Then I hope and pray he will find there is no chance, because Daddy +would have to oppose him. That would be such a pity! He and I have +read so much about Mr. Blake's work that we have come to regard him as +our--as one of our heroes." + +Mrs. Blake smiled. It was very apparent, despite the quietness and +repression of her high-bred manner, that she was very much in love +with her husband. + +The girl continued in a meekly deferential tone: "So you will not mind +my worshiping him. He is a hero, a real hero! Isn't he?" + +The words were spoken with an earnestness and sincerity that won Mrs. +Blake to a like candor. "You are quite right," she said. "Lafayette +may have told you how Mr. Blake and I were wrecked on the most savage +coast of Africa. He saved me from wild beasts and tropical storms, +from fever and snakes,--from death in a dozen horrible forms. Then, +when he had saved me--and won me, he gave me up until he could prove +to himself that he was worthy of me." + +"He did?" cried the girl. "But of course!--of course!" + +"Yet that was nothing to the next proof of his strength and manhood," +went on the proud wife. "He destroyed a monster more frightful than +any lion or tropical snake--he overcame the curse of drink that had +come down to him from--one of his parents." + +"From--from his--" whispered the girl, her averted face white and +drawn with pain. + +Mrs. Blake had bent over to kiss the forehead of her sleeping baby and +did not see. "If only all parents knew what terrible misfortunes, +what tortures, their transgressions are apt to bring upon their +innocent children!" she murmured. + +"He told me that he won his way up out of the--the slums," said +Isobel. "It must be some men fail to do that because they have +relatives to drag them down--their families." + +"It seems hard to say it, yet I do not know but that you are right, my +dear," agreed Mrs. Blake. "Strong men, if unhampered, have a chance to +fight their way up out of the social pit. But women and girls, even +when they escape the--the worst down there, can hardly hope ever to +attain--And of course those that fall!--Our dual code of morality is +hideously unjust to our sex, yet it still is the code under which we +live." + +The girl drew in a deep, sighing breath. Her eyes were dark with +anguish. Yet she forced a gay little laugh. "Aren't we solemn +sociologists! All we are concerned with is that _he_ has won his way +up, and there's no one ever to drag him down or disgrace him; and--and +you won't be jealous if I set him up on a pedestal and bring incense +to him on my bended knees." + +"Only you must give Thomas Herbert his share at the same time," +stipulated the mother. + +The girl burst into prolonged and rather shrill laughter that passed +the bounds of good breeding. Her emotion was so unrestrained that when +she looked about at her surprised companion her face was flushed and +her eyes were swimming with tears. + +"Please, oh, do please forgive me!" she begged with a humility as +immoderate as had been her laughter. "I--I can't tell you why, but--" + +"Say no more, my dear," soothed Mrs. Blake. "You are merely a bit +hysterical. Perhaps the excitement of our coming, after your months of +lonely ranch life--" + +"You're so good!" sighed the girl. "Yes, it was due to--your coming. +But now the worst is over. I'll not shock you again with any more such +outbursts." + +She smiled, and began to talk of other things, with somewhat unsteady +but persistent gayety. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A DESCENT + + +When the party arrived at the ranch, the girl hostess took Mrs. Blake +to rest in the clean, simply furnished room provided for the visitors. +Blake, after carrying in their trunk single-handed, went to look +around at the ranch buildings in company with Ashton. + +On returning to the house, the two found Knowles and Gowan in the +parlor with the ladies. Isobel had already introduced them to Mrs. +Blake and also to her son. That young man was sprawled, face up, in +the cowman's big hands, crowing and valiantly clutching at his bristly +mustache. + +Gowan sat across from him, perfectly at ease in the presence of the +city lady. But, with his characteristic lack of humor, he was unmoved +by the laughable spectacle presented by his employer and the baby, and +his manner was both reserved and watchful. + +At sight of Blake, Isobel called to her father in feigned alarm: "Look +out, Daddy! Better stop hazing that yearling. Here comes his sire." + +Knowles gave the baby back to its half-fearful mother, and rose to +greet his guest with hospitable warmth: "Howdy, Mr. Blake! I'm +downright glad to meet you. Hope you've found things comfortable and +homelike." + +"Too much so," asserted Blake, his eyes twinkling. "We came out +expecting to rough-it." + +"Well, your lady won't know the difference," remarked Knowles. + +"You're quite mistaken, Daddy, really," interposed his daughter. "She +and Mr. Blake were wrecked in Africa and lived on roast leopards. +We'll have to feed them on mountain lions and bobcats." + +"If you mean that, Miss Chuckie," put in Gowan, "I can get a bobcat in +time for dinner tomorrow." + +The girl led the general outburst of laughter over this serious +proposal. "Oh! oh! Kid! You'll be the death of me!--Yet I sent you a +joke-book last Christmas!" + +"Couldn't see anything funny in it," replied the puncher. "I haven't +lost it, though. It came from you." + +To cover the girl's blush at this blunt disclosure of sentiment, Mrs. +Blake somewhat formally introduced her husband to the puncher. He +shook Blake's hand with like formality and politeness. But as their +glances met, his gray eyes shone with the same cold suspicion with +which he had regarded Ashton at their first meeting. Before that look +the engineer's friendly eyes hardened to disks of burnished steel, +and his big fist released its cordial grip of the other's small, bony +hand. He gave back hostility for hostility with the readiness of a +born fighter. Gowan was the first to look away. + +The incident passed so swiftly that only Knowles observed the outflash +of enmity. His words indicated that he had anticipated the puncher's +attitude. He addressed Blake seriously: "Kid has been with us ever +since he was a youngster and has always made my interests his own. +Chuckie has been telling us what you said about putting through any +project you once started." + +Blake nodded. "Yes. That is why I suggested to Miss Knowles that she +call off the agreement under which I came on this visit. We shall +gladly pay board, and I'll merely knock around; or, if you prefer, +we'll leave you and go back tomorrow morning." + +"No, Daddy, no! we can't allow our guests to leave, when they've only +just come!" protested Isobel. + +"As for any talk about board," added her father, "you ought to know +better, Mr. Blake." + +"My apology!" admitted Blake. "I've been living in the East." + +"That explains," agreed the cowman. "Even as far east as Denver--I've +got a sister there; lives up beyond the Capitol. But I've talked with +other men there from over this way. They all agree you might as well +look for good cow pasture behind a sheep drive as for hospitality in a +city. Sometimes you can get what you want, and all times you're sure +to get a lot of attention you don't want--if you have money to +spend." + +"That's true. But about my going ahead here?" inquired Blake. "Say the +word, and I put irrigation on the shelf throughout our visit." + +Knowles shook his head thoughtfully. "No, I reckon Chuckie is right. +We'd best learn just how we stand." + +"What if I work out a practical project? There's any amount of good +land on your mesa. The lay of it and the altitude ought to make it +ideal for fruit. If I see that the proposition is feasible, I shall be +bound to put water on all of your range that I can. I am an +engineer,--I cannot let good land and water go to waste." + +"The land isn't going to waste," replied Knowles. "It's the best +cattle range in this section, and it's being used for the purpose +Nature intended. As for the water, Chuckie has figured out there isn't +more than three thousand acre feet of flood waters that can be +impounded off the watershed above us. That wouldn't pay for building +any kind of a dam." + +"And the devil himself couldn't pump the water up out of Deep Canyon," +put in Gowan. + +"The devil hasn't much use for science," said Blake. "It has almost +put him out of business. So he is not apt to be well up on modern +engineering." + +"Then you think you can do what the devil can't?" demanded Knowles. + +"I can try. Unless you wish to call off the deal, I shall ride around +tomorrow and look over the country. Maybe that will be sufficient to +show me there is no chance for irrigation, or, on the contrary, I may +have to run levels and do some figuring." + +"Then perhaps you will know by tomorrow night?" exclaimed Isobel. + +"Yes." + +"Well, that's something," said the cowman. "I'll take you out first +thing in the morning.--Lafe, show Mr. Blake the wash bench. There goes +the first gong." + +When, a little later, all came together again at the supper table, +nothing more was said about the vexed question of irrigation. Isobel +had made no changes in her table arrangements other than to have a +plate laid for Mrs. Blake beside her father's and another for Blake +beside her own. + +The employes were too accustomed to Miss Chuckie to be embarrassed by +the presence of another lady, and Blake put himself on familiar terms +with them by his first remarks. If his wealthy high-bred wife was +surprised to find herself seated at the same table with common +workmen, she betrayed no resentment over the situation. Her perfect +breeding was shown in the unaffected simplicity of her manner, which +was precisely the same to the roughest man present as to her hostess. + +Even had there been any indications of uncongeniality, they must have +been overcome by the presence of Thomas Herbert Vincent Leslie Blake. +The most unkempt, hard-bitten bachelor present gazed upon the majesty +of babyhood with awed reverence and delight. The silent Jap +interrupted his serving to fetch a queer rattle of ivory balls carved +out one within the other. This he cleansed with soap, peroxide and hot +water, in the presence of the honorable lady mother, before presenting +it to her infant with much smiling and hissing insuckings of breath. + +After supper all retired at an early hour, out of regard for the +weariness of Mrs. Blake. + +When she reappeared, late the next morning, she learned that Knowles, +Gowan and her husband had ridden off together hours before. But Isobel +and Ashton seemed to have nothing else to do than to entertain the +mother and child. Mrs. Blake donned one of the girl's divided skirts +and took her first lesson in riding astride. There was no sidesaddle +at the ranch, but there was a surefooted old cow pony too wise and +spiritless for tricks, and therefore safe even for a less experienced +horsewoman than was Mrs. Blake. + +Knowles and Gowan and the engineer returned so late that they found +all the others at the supper table. Blake's freshly sunburnt face was +cheerful. Gowan's expression was as noncommittal as usual. But the +cowman's forehead was furrowed with unrelieved suspense. + +"Oh, Mr. Blake!" exclaimed Isobel. "Don't tell us your report is +unfavorable." + +"Afraid I can't say, as yet," he replied. "We've covered the ground +pretty thoroughly for miles along High Mesa and Deep Canyon. If the +annual precipitation here is what I estimate it from what your father +tells me, it would be possible to put in a drainage and reservoir +system that would store four thousand acre feet. Except as an +auxiliary system, however, it would cost too much to be practicable. +As for Deep Canyon--" He turned to his wife. "Jenny, whatever else +happens, I must get you up to see that canyon. It's almost as grand and +in some ways even more wonderful than the Canyon of the Colorado." + +"Then I must see it, by all means," responded Mrs. Blake. "I shall +soon be able to ride up to it, Isobel assures me." + +"Within a few days," said the girl. "But, Mr. Blake, pardon me--How +about the water in the canyon? You surely see no way to lift it out +over the top of High Mesa?" + +"I'm sorry, but I can't even guess what can be done until I have run a +line of levels and found the depth of the canyon. I tried to estimate +it by dropping in rocks and timing them, but we couldn't see them +strike bottom." + +"A line of levels? Will it take you long?" + +"Maybe a week; possibly more. If I had a transit as well as my level, +it would save time. However, I can make out with the chain and compass +I brought." + +"Mr. Blake is to start running his levels in the morning," said +Knowles. "Lafe, I'd like you to help him as his rodman, if you have no +objections. As you've been an engineer, you can help him along faster +than Kid.--You said one would do, Mr. Blake; but if you need more, +take all the men you want. The sooner this thing is settled, the +better it will suit me." + +"The sooner the better, Daddy!" agreed Isobel, "that is, if our guests +promise to not hurry away." + +"We shall stay at least a month, if you wish us to," said Mrs. Blake. + +"Two months would be too short!--And the sooner we are over with this +uncertainty--Lafe, you'll do your utmost to help Mr. Blake, won't +you?" + +"Yes, indeed; anything I can," eagerly responded Ashton. + +Gowan's face darkened at sight of the smile with which the girl +rewarded the tenderfoot. Yet instead of sulking, he joined in the +evening's entertainment of the guests with a zeal that agreeably +surprised everyone. His guitar playing won genuine praise from the +Blakes, though both were sophisticated and critical music lovers. + +Somewhat earlier than usual he rose to go, with the excuse that he +wished to consult Knowles about some business with the owner of the +adjoining range. The cowman went out with him, and did not return. An +hour later Ashton took reluctant leave of Isobel, and started for the +bunkhouse. Half way across he was met by his employer, who stopped +before him. + +"Everybody turning in, Lafe?" + +"Not at my suggestion, though," replied Ashton. + +"Reckon not. Mr. Blake and his lady are old friends of yours, I take +it." + +"Mrs. Blake is," stated Ashton, with a touch of his former arrogance. +"We made mud-pies together, in a hundred thousand dollar dooryard." + +"Humph!" grunted Knowles. "And her husband?" + +The darkness hid Ashton's face, but his voice betrayed the sudden +upwelling of his bitterness: "I never heard of him until he--until a +little over three years ago. I wish to Heaven he hadn't taken part in +that bridge contest!" + +"How's that?" asked Knowles in a casual tone. + +"Nothing--nothing!" Ashton hastened to disclaim. "You haven't been +talking with Miss Chuckie about me, have you, Mr. Knowles?" + +"No. Why?" + +"It was only that I explained to her how I came to be ruined--to lose +my fortune. You see, the circumstances are such that I cannot very +well say anything against Blake; yet he was the cause--it was owing to +something he did that I lost all--everything--millions! Curse him!" + +"You've appeared friendly enough towards him," remarked Knowles. + +"Yes, I--I promised Miss Chuckie to try to forget the past. But when I +think of what I lost, all because of him--" + +"So-o!" considered the cowman. "Maybe there's more in what Kid says +than I thought. He's been cross-questioning Blake all day. You know +how little Kid is given to gab. But from the time we started off he +kept after Blake like he was cutting out steers at the round-up." + +"Blake isn't the kind you could get to tell anything against himself," +asserted Ashton. + +"Well, that may be. All his talk today struck me as being straightforward +and outspoken. But Kid has been drawing inferences. He keeps hammering +at it that Blake must be in thick with his father-in-law, and that all +millionaires round-up their money in ways that would make a rustler go +off and shoot himself." + +"Business is business," replied Ashton with all his old cynicism. +"I'll not say that H. V. Leslie is crooked, but I never knew of his +coming out of a deal second best." + +"Well, at any rate, it's white of Blake to tell us beforehand what he +intends to do if he sees a chance of a practical project." + +"Has he told you everything?" scoffed Ashton. + +"How about his offer to drop the whole matter and not go into it at +all?" rejoined Knowles. + +Ashton hesitated to reply. For one thing, he was momentarily +nonplused, and, for another, the Blakes had treated him as a +gentleman. But a fresh upwelling of bitterness dulled his conscience +and sharpened his wits. + +"It may have been to throw you off your guard," he said. "Blake is +deep, and he has had old Leslie to coach him ever since he married +Genevieve. He could have laid his plans,--looked over the ground, and +found out just what are your rights here,--all without your suspecting +him." + +"Well, I'm not so sure--" + +"Have you told him what lands you have deeds to?" + +"No, but if he knows as much about the West as I figure he does, he +can guess it. Fence every swallow of get-at-able water to be found on +my range this time of year, and you won't have to dig a posthole off +of land I hold in fee simple. Plum Creek sinks just below where Dry +Fork junctions." + +"But you can't have _all_ the water?" exclaimed Ashton incredulously. + +"Yes, every drop to be found outside Deep Canyon this time of year. +There's my seven and a half mile string of quarter-sections blanketing +Plum Creek from the springs to down below Dry Fork, and five +quarter-sections covering all the waterholes. That makes up five +sections. A bunch of tenderfeet came in here, years ago, and preempted +all the quarter-sections with water on them. Got their patents from +the government. Then the Utes stampeded them clean out of the country, +and I bought up their titles at a fair figure." + +"And you own even that splendid pool up where I had my camp?" + +"Everything wet on this range that a cow or hawss can get to, this +time of year." + +Ashton considered, and advised craftily: "Don't tell him this. Does +Miss Chuckie know it?" + +"She knows I have five sections, and that most of it is on Plum Creek. +I don't think anything has ever been said to her about the waterholes. +But why not tell Blake?" + +"Don't you see? Even if he finds a way to get at the water in Deep +Canyon, he will first have to bore his tunnel. He and his construction +gang must have water to drink and for their engines while they are +carrying out his plans. You can lie low, and, when the right time +comes, get out an injunction against their trespassing on your land." + +"Say, that's not a bad idea. The best I could figure was that they +might need one of my waterholes for a reservoir site. But why not call +him when he first takes a hand?" asked Knowles. + +"No, you should not show your cards until you have to," replied +Ashton. "With all Leslie's money against you, it might be hard to get +your injunction if they knew of your plans. But if you wait until they +have their men, machinery and materials on the ground, you will have +them where they must buy you out at your own terms." + +"By--James!" commented Knowles. "Talk about business sharps!" + +"I was in Leslie's office for a time," explained Ashton. "Your +interests are Miss Chuckie's interests. I'm for her--first, last, and +all the time." + +"Um-m-m. Then I guess I can count on you as sure as on Gowan." + +"You can. I am going to try my best to win your daughter, Mr. Knowles. +She's a lady--the loveliest girl I ever met." + +"No doubt about that. What's more, she's got grit and brains. That's +why I tell you now, as I've told Kid, it's for her to decide on the +man she's going to make happy. If he's square and white, that's all I +ask." + +"About my helping Blake with his levels," Ashton rather hastily +changed the subject. "I am in your employ--and so is he, for that +matter. Don't you think I have a right to keep you posted on all his +plans?" + +"Well--yes. But he as much as says he will tell them himself." + +"Perhaps he will, and perhaps he won't, Mr. Knowles. I've told you +what Leslie is like; and Blake is his son-in-law." + +"Well, I'm not so sure. You and Kid, between you, have shaken my +judgment of the man. It can't do any harm to watch him, and I'll be +obliged to you for doing it. If it comes to a fight against him and +the millions of backing he has, I want a fair deal and--But, Lord! +what if we're making all this fuss over nothing? It doesn't stand to +reason that there's any way to get the water out of Deep Canyon." + +"Wait a week or so," cautioned Ashton. "In my opinion, Blake already +sees a possibility." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +LEVELS AND SLANTS + + +At sunrise the next morning Blake screwed his level on its tripod and +set up the instrument about a hundred yards away from the ranch house. +Ashton held the level rod for him on a spike driven into the foot of +the nearest post of the front porch. Blake called the spike a +bench-mark. For convenience of determining the relative heights of the +points along his lines of levels, he designated this first "bench" in +his fieldbook as "elevation 1,000." + +From the porch he ran the line of level "readings" up the slope to the +top of the divide between Plum Creek and Dry Fork and from there +towards the waterhole on Dry Fork. At noon Isobel and Mrs. Blake drove +out to them in the buckboard, bringing a hot meal in an improvised +fireless-cooker. + +"And we came West to rough-it!" groaned Blake, his eyes twinkling. + +"You can camp at the waterhole where Lafe did, and I'll send Kid out +for that bobcat," suggested the girl. "You could roast him, hair and +all." + +"What! roast Gowan?" protested Blake. "Let me tell you, Miss +Chuckie--you and my wife and Ashton may like him that much, but I +don't!" + +"You need not worry, Mr. Tenderfoot," the girl flashed back at him. +"Whenever it comes to a hot time, Kid always gets in the first fire, +without waiting to be told." + +"Don't I know it?" exclaimed Ashton. "Maybe you haven't noticed this +hole in my hat, Mrs. Blake. He put a bullet through it." + +"But it's right over your temple, Lafayette!" replied Mrs. Blake. + +"Lafe was lifting his some-berero to me, and Kid did it to haze +him--only a joke, you know," explained Isobel. "Of course Lafe was in +no danger. It was different, though, when somebody--we think it was +his thieving guide--took several rifle shots at him. Tell them about +it, Lafe." + +Ashton gave an account of the murderous attack, more than once +checking himself in a natural tendency to embellish the exciting +details. + +"Oh! What if the man should come back and shoot at us?" shuddered Mrs. +Blake, drawing her baby close in her arms. + +"No fear of that," asserted Isobel. "Kid found that he had fled +towards the railroad. That proves it must have been the guide. He +would never dare come back after such a crime." + +"If he should, I always carry my rifle, as you see," remarked Ashton; +adding, with a touch of bravado, "I made him run once, and I would +again." + +"I'm glad Miss Chuckie is sure he will not come back," said Blake. "I +don't fancy anyone shooting at me that way." + +"Timid Mr. Blake!" teased the girl. "Genevieve has been telling me how +you faced a lion with only a bow and arrow." + +"Had to," said Blake. "He'd have jumped on me if I had turned or +backed off.--Speaking about camping at that waterhole, I believe we'll +do it, Ashton, if it's the same thing to you. It would save the time +that would be lost coming and going to the ranch." + +"Save time?" repeated Isobel. "Then of course we'll bring out a tent +and camp kit for you tomorrow. Genevieve and I can ride or drive up to +the waterhole each day, to picnic with you." + +"It will be delightful," agreed Mrs. Blake. + +"You ride on ahead and wait for us in the shade," said her husband. +"We'll knock off for the day when we reach that dolerite dike above +the waterhole.--If you are ready, Ashton, we'll peg along." + +He started off to set up his level as briskly as at dawn, though the +midday sun was so hot that he had to shade the instrument with his +handkerchief to keep the air-bubble from outstretching its scale. His +wife and the girl drove on up Dry Fork to the waterhole. + +Mrs. Blake was outstretched on her back, fast asleep, and Isobel was +playing with the baby under the adjoining tree, when at last the +surveyors came up on the other side of the creek and ended their day's +run with the establishment of a bench-mark on the top of the dike +above the pool. Blake seemed as fresh as in the morning. He took a +moderate drink of water dipped up in the brim of his hat, and without +wakening his wife, sat down beside her to "figure up" his fieldbook. + +Ashton had come down to the pool panting from heat and exertion. It +was the first time that he had walked more than half a mile since +coming to the ranch, for he had immediately fallen into the cowboy +practice of saddling a horse to go even short distances. He had his +reward for his work when, having soused his hot head in the pool and +drunk his fill, he came up to rest in the shade of Isobel's tree. Very +considerately the baby fell asleep. To avoid disturbing him and his +mother, the young couple talked in low tones and half whispers very +conducive to intimacy. + +Ashton did his utmost to improve his opportunity. Without openly +speaking his love, he allowed it to appear in his every look and +intonation. The girl met the attack with banter and raillery and +adroit shiftings of the conversation whenever his ardent inferences +became too obvious. Yet her evasion and her teasing could not always +mask her maidenly pleasure over his adoration of her loveliness, and +an occasional blush betrayed to him that his wooing was not +altogether unwelcome. + +He was in the seventh heaven when Mrs. Blake awoke from her +health-giving sleep and her husband closed his fieldbook. The girl +promptly dashed her suitor back to earth by dropping him for the +engineer. + +"Mr. Blake! You can't have figured it out already?" she exclaimed. +"What do you find?" + +"Only an 'if,' Miss Chuckie," he answered. "If water can be stored or +brought by ditch to this elevation, practically all Dry Mesa can be +irrigated. Our bench-mark there on the dike is more than two hundred +feet above that spike we drove into your porch post." + +"Is that all you've found out today?" + +"All for today," said Blake. "I could have left this line of levels +until later, but I thought I might as well get through with them." + +"You would not have run them if you had thought they would be +useless," she stated, perceiving the point with intuitive acuteness. + +"I like to clean up my work as I go along," he replied. "If you wish +to know, I have thought of a possible way to get water enough for the +whole mesa. It depends on two 'ifs.' I shall be certain as to one of +them within the next two days. The other is the question of the depth +of Deep Canyon. If I had a transit, I could determine that by a +vertical angle,--triangulation. As it is, I probably shall have to go +down to the bottom." + +"Go down to the bottom of Deep Canyon?" cried the girl. + +"Yes," he answered in a matter-of-course tone. "A big ravine runs +clear down to the bottom, up beyond where your father said you first +met Ashton. I think it is possible to get down that gulch.--Suppose we +hitch up? We'll make the ranch just about supper-time." + +Ashton hastened to bring in the picketed horses. When they were +harnessed Isobel fetched the sleeping baby and handed him to his +mother; but she did not take the seat beside her. + +"You drive, Lafe," she ordered. "I'm going to ride behind with Mr. +Blake. It's such fun bouncing." + +All protested in vain against this odd whim. The girl plumped herself +in on the rear end of the buckboard and dangled her slender feet with +the gleefulness of a child. + +"Mr. Blake will catch me if I go to jolt off," she declared. + +The engineer nodded with responsive gayety and seated himself beside +her. As the buckboard rattled away over the rough sod, they made as +merry over their jolts and bounces as a pair of school-children on a +hayrack party. + +Mrs. Blake sought to divert Ashton from his disappointment, but he +had ears only for the laughing, chatting couple behind him. The fact +that Blake was a married man did not prevent the lover from giving way +to jealous envy. Chancing to look around as he warned the hilarious +pair of a gully, he saw the girl grasp Blake's shoulder. Natural as +was the act, his envy flared up in hot resentment. Except on their +drive to Stockchute, she had always avoided even touching his hand +with her finger tips; yet now she clung to the engineer with a grasp +as familiar as that of an affectionate child. Nor did she release her +clasp until they were some yards beyond the gully. + +Mrs. Blake had seen not only the expression that betrayed Ashton's +anger but also the action that caused it. She raised her fine +eyebrows; but meeting Ashton's significant glance, she sought to pass +over the incident with a smile. He refused to respond. All during the +remainder of the drive he sat in sullen silence. Genevieve bent over +her baby. Behind them the unconscious couple continued in their +mirthful enjoyment of each other and the ride. + +When the party reached the ranch, the girl must have perceived +Ashton's moroseness had she not first caught sight of her father. He +was standing outside the front porch, his eyes fixed upon the corner +post in a perplexed stare. + +"Why, Daddy," she called, "what is it? You look as you do when playing +chess with Kid." + +"Afraid it's something that'll annoy Mr. Blake," replied the cowman. + +"What is it?" asked Blake, who was handing his wife from the +buckboard. + +As the engineer faced Knowles, Gowan sauntered around the far corner +of the house. At sight of the ladies he paused to adjust his +neckerchief. + +"Can't understand it, Mr. Blake," said the cowman. "Somebody has +pulled out that spike you drove in here this morning." + +"Pulled the spike?" repeated Gowan, coming forward to stare at the +post. "That shore is a joke. The Jap's building a new henhouse. Must +be short of nails." + +"That's so," said Knowles. "I forgot to order them for him. I'm mighty +sorry, Mr. Blake. But of course the little brown cuss didn't know what +he was meddling with." + +"Jumping Jehosaphat!" ejaculated Gowan. "That shore is mighty hard +luck! I reckon pulling that spike turns your line of levels adrift +like knocking out the picket-pin of an uneasy hawss." + +Blake burst into a hearty laugh. "That's a fine metaphor, Mr. Gowan. +But it does not happen to fit the case. It would not matter if the +spike-hole had been pulled out and the post along with it, so far as +concerns this line of levels." + +"It wouldn't?" muttered Gowan, his lean jaw dropping slack. He +glowered as if chagrined at the engineer's laughter at his mistake. + +Without heeding the puncher's look, Blake began to tell Knowles the +result of his day's work. While he was speaking, they went into the +house after his wife and the girl, leaving Gowan and Ashton alone. +Equally sullen and resentful, the rivals exchanged stares of open +hostility. Ashton pointed a derisive finger at the spike-hole in the +post. + +"'Hole ... and the post along with it!'" he repeated Blake's words. +"On bridge work it might have caused some trouble. But a preliminary +line of levels--_Mon Dieu_! A Jap should have known better--or even a +yap!" With a supercilious shrug, he swung back into the buckboard and +drove up to the corral. + +Gowan's right hand had dropped to his hip. Slowly it came up and +joined the other hand in rolling a thick Mexican cigarette. But the +puncher did not light his "smoke." He looked at the spike-hole in the +post, scowled, and went back around the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +METAL AND METTLE + + +At dawn Blake and Ashton drove up to the waterhole on Dry Fork with +their camp equipment. There they left the outfit in the buckboard and +proceeded with the line of levels on up the creek bed into the gorge +from which it issued. + +For more than a mile they carried the levels over the bowlders of the +gradually sloping bottom of that stupendous gash in the mountain side. +So far the work was fairly easy. At last, however, they came to the +place where the bed of the gulch suddenly tilted upward at a sharp +angle and climbed the tremendous heights to the top of High Mesa in +sheer ascents and cliff-like ledges. Blake established a bench-mark at +the foot of the acclivity, and came forward beside Ashton to peer up +the Titanic chute between the dizzy precipices. From where they stood +to the head of the gulch was fully four thousand feet. + +"What do you think of it?" asked the engineer. + +"I think this is where your line ends," answered Ashton, and he rolled +a cigarette. He had been anything but agreeable since their start from +the ranch. + +"We of course can't go up with the level and rod," said Blake, smiling +at the absurdity of the suggestion. "Still, we might possibly chain it +to the top." + +Ashton shrugged. "I fail to see the need of risking my neck to climb +this goat stairway." + +"Very well," agreed Blake, ignoring his companion's ill humor. "Kindly +take back the level and get out the chain." + +Ashton started off without replying. Blake looked at the young man's +back with a regretful, half-puzzled expression. But he quickly +returned to the business in hand. He laid the level rod on a rock and +inclined it at the same steep pitch as the uptilt of the gorge bottom. +Over the lower end of this he held a plumb bob, and took the angle +between the perpendicular line of the bob-string and the inclined line +of the rod with a small protractor that he carried in his notebook. +The angle measured over fifty degrees from the horizontal. + +Having thus determined the angle of inclination, the engineer picked a +likely line of ascent and started to climb the gulch chute. He went up +in rapid rushes, with the ease and surefootedness of a coolheaded, +steel-muscled climber. He stopped frequently, not because of weariness +or of lack of breath, but to test the structure and hardness of the +rocks with a small magnifying glass and the butt of his pocket knife. + +At last, nearly a thousand feet up, his ascent was stopped by a sheer +hundred-foot cliff. He had seen it beetling above him and knew +beforehand that he could not hope to scale such a precipice; yet he +clambered up to it, still examining the rock with minute care. As he +walked across the waterworn shelf at the foot of the sheer cliff, his +eye was caught by a wide seam of quartz in the side wall of the +gulch. + +Going on over to the vein, he looked at it in several places through +his magnifying glass. Everywhere little yellow specks showed in the +semi-translucent quartz. He drew back across the gorge to examine the +trend of the vein. It ran far outward and upward, and in no place was +it narrower than where it disappeared under the bed of the gorge. + +His lips pursed in a prolonged, soundless whistle. But he did not +linger. Immediately after he had estimated the visible length and dip +of the seam, he began his descent. Arriving at the foot without +accident, he picked up the level rod and swung away down the gulch. + +He saw nothing of Ashton until he had come all the distance down +across the valley to the dike above the pool. His assistant was in the +grove below, assiduously helping Miss Knowles to erect a tent that the +girl had improvised from a tarpaulin. Genevieve and Thomas Herbert +were interesting themselves in the contents of the kit-box. The two +ladies had ridden up to the camp on horseback, Isobel carrying the +baby. + +When Blake came striding down to them, the girl left Ashton and ran +to meet him, her eyes beaming with affectionate welcome. + +"What has kept you so long?" she called. "Lafe says the gulch is +absolutely unclimbable. I could have told you so, beforehand." + +"You are right. I tried it, but had to quit," replied Blake, engulfing +her outstretched hand in his big palm. + +When he would have released her, she caught his fingers and held fast, +so that they came down to his wife hand in hand. Oblivious of Ashton's +frown, the girl dimpled at Mrs. Blake. + +"Here he is, Genevieve," she said. "We have him corralled for the rest +of the morning." + +"Sorry," replied Blake, stooping to pick up his chuckling son. "We +can't knock off now." + +"But if you cannot continue your levels?" asked his wife. "From what +Lafayette told us, we thought you would not start in again until after +lunch." + +"No more levels until tomorrow," said Blake. "But I must settle one of +my big 'ifs' by night. To do it, Ashton and I will have to go up on +High Mesa and measure a line. There's still two hours till noon. We'll +borrow your saddle ponies, Miss Chuckie, and start at once, if Jenny +will put us up a bite of lunch." + +"Immediately, Tom," assented Mrs. Blake, delighted at the opportunity +to serve her big husband. + +"When shall we take Genevieve to see the canyon?" asked the girl. "I am +sure she can ride up safely on old Buck." + +"We have only the two saddle horses today," replied Blake. "If our +measurement settles that 'if' one way, I shall start a line of levels +up the mountain tomorrow morning, if the other way, any irrigation +project is out of the question, and we shall go up to the canyon merely +as a sightseeing party." + +"Ah!" sighed the girl. "'If!' 'if'--I do so hope it turns out to be +the last one!" + +Blake looked at her with a quizzical smile. "Perhaps you would not, +Miss Chuckie, if you could see all the results of a successful water +system." + +"You mean, turning our range into farms for hundreds of irrigationists," +she replied. "I suppose I am selfish, but I am thinking of what it +would mean to Daddy. Just consider how it will affect us. For years +this land has been our own for miles and miles!" + +"Well, we shall see," said Blake, his eyes twinkling. + +"Yes, indeed!" she exclaimed. "Lafe, if you'll help me saddle up and +help Mr. Blake rush up to do that measuring, I'll--I'll be ever so +grateful!" + +Though all the more resentful at Blake over having to leave her +company, Ashton eagerly sprang forward to help the girl saddle the +ponies. When they were ready, she filled his canteen for him and took +a sip from it "for luck." Genevieve had packed an ample lunch in a +gamebag, along with her husband's linked steel-wire surveyor's chain. + +Ten minutes after Blake's arrival, he handed the baby to its mother +and swung into the saddle. Ashton had already mounted, fired by a kind +glance from the girl's forget-me-not eyes. In his zeal, he led the way +at a gallop around the craggy hill and across the intervening valley +to the escarpment of High Mesa. Had not Blake checked him, he would +have forced the pace on up the mountain side. + +"Hold on," called the engineer. "We want to make haste slowly. That +buckskin you're on isn't so young as he has been, and my pony has to +lug around two hundred pounds. We'll get back sooner by being +moderate. Besides you don't wish to knock up old Buck. He is about the +only one of these jumpy cow ponies that is safe for Jenny." + +"That's so," admitted Ashton. "Suppose you set the pace." + +He stopped to let Blake pass him, and trailed behind up the mountain +side. He had headed into a draw. The engineer at once turned and began +zigzagging up the steep side of the ridge that thrust out into the +valley between the draw and the gulch of Dry Fork. At the stiffest +places he jumped off and led his pony. None too willingly, Ashton +followed the example set by his companion. There were some places +where he could not have avoided so doing--ledges that the old +buckskin, despite his years of mountain service, could hardly scramble +up under an empty saddle. + +Long before they reached the point of the ridge, Ashton was panting +and sweating, and his handsome face was red from exertion and anger. +But his indignation at being misguided up so difficult a line of +ascent received a damper when he reached the lower end of the ridge +crest. Blake, who had waited patiently for him to clamber up the last +sharp slope, gave him a cheerful nod and pointed to the long but +fairly easy incline of the ridge crest. + +"In mountain climbing, always take your stiffest ground first, when +you can," he said. "We can jog along pretty fast now." + +They mounted and rode up the ridge, much of the time at a jog trot. +Before long they came to the top of High Mesa, and galloped across to +one of the ridges that lay parallel with Deep Canyon. Climbing the +ridge, they found themselves looking over into a ravine that ran down +to the right to join another ravine from the opposite direction, at +the head of Dry Fork Gulch. Blake turned and rode to the left along +the ridge, until he found a place where they could cross the ravine. +The still air was reverberating with the muffled roar of Deep Canyon. + +From the ridge on the other side of the ravine, they could look down +between the scattered pines to the gaping chasm of the stupendous +canyon. But Blake rode to the right along the summit of the ridge until +they came opposite the head of Dry Fork Gulch. Here he flung the reins +over his pony's head, and dismounted. Ashton was about to do the same +when he caught sight of a wolf slinking away like a gray shadow up the +farther ravine. He reached for his rifle, and for the first time +noticed that he had failed to bring it along. In his haste to start +from camp he had left it in the tent. + +"_Sacre!_" he petulantly exclaimed. "There goes twenty-five dollars!" + +"How's that?" asked Blake. He looked and caught a glimpse of the wolf +just as it vanished. "Why don't you shoot?" + +"Left my rifle in camp, curse the luck!" + +"Keep cool," advised Blake. "It's only twenty-five dollars, and you +might have missed anyway." + +"Not with my automatic," snapped Ashton. "You needn't sneer about the +money. You've seen times when you'd have been glad of a chance at half +the amount." + +"That's true," gravely agreed the engineer. "What's more, I realize +that it is far harder for you than it ever was for me. I want to tell +you I admire the way you have stood your loss." + +"You do?" burst out the younger man. "I want to tell _you_ I don't +admire the way you ruined me--babbling to my father--when you +promised to keep still! You sneak!" + +Blake looked into the other's furious face with no shade of change in +his grave gaze. "I have never said a word to your father against you," +he declared. + +"Then--then how, after all this time--?" stammered Ashton, even in his +anger unable to disbelieve the engineer's quiet statement. He was +disconcerted only for the moment. Again he flared hotly: "But if you +didn't, old Leslie must have! It's all the same!" + +"No, it is not the same," corrected Blake. "As for my father-in-law, +if he said anything about--the past, I feel sure it was not with +intention to hurt your interests." + +"Hurt my interests! You know I am utterly ruined!" + +"On the contrary, I know you are not ruined. You have lost a large +allowance, and a will has been made cutting you off from a great many +millions that you expected to inherit. But you have landed square on +your feet; you have a pretty good job, and you are stronger and +healthier than you were." + +"If you break up Mr. Knowles' range with your irrigation schemes, I +stand to lose my job. You know that." + +"If the project proves to be feasible, I shall offer you a position on +the works," said Blake. + +"You needn't try to bribe me!" retorted Ashton. "I'm working for Mr. +Knowles." + +"Well, he directed you to help me with this survey," replied the +engineer, with imperturbable good nature. "The next move is to chain +across to the canyon." + +He pulled his surveyor's chain from the bag and descended the ridge to +an out-jutting rock above the head of the tremendous gorge in the +mountain side. Ashton followed him down. Blake handed him the front +end of the chain. + +"You lead," he said. "I'll line you, as I know where to strike the +nearest point on the canyon." + +Ashton sullenly started up the ridge, and the measurement began. As +Blake required only a rough approximation, they soon crossed the ridge +and chained down through the trees to the edge of Deep Canyon. Ashton +was astonished at the shortness of the distance. The canyon at this +point ran towards the mesa escarpment as if it had originally intended +to drive through into Dry Fork Gulch, but twisted sharp about and +curved back across the plateau. Even Blake was surprised at the +measurement. It was only a little over two thousand feet. + +"Noticed this place when out with Mr. Knowles and Gowan," he remarked, +gazing down into the abyss with keen appreciation of its awful +grandeur. "They told me it is the nearest that the canyon comes to the +edge of the mesa, until it breaks out, thirty or forty miles down." + +"How--how about that 'if' you said this measurement would settle?" +asked Ashton. + +"What's the time?" + +Ashton looked at his watch, frowning over the evasive reply. "It's +two-ten." + +"I'll figure on the proposition while we eat lunch," said Blake. "I +can answer you better regarding that 'if' when I have done some +calculating. Luckily I climbed up to examine the rock in the gulch." +He smiled quizzically at his companion. "You were right as to its +being unclimbable; but I found out even more than I expected." + +Ashton silently took the bag from him and arranged the lunch and his +canteen on a rock under a pine. The engineer figured and drew little +diagrams in his fieldbook while he ate his sandwiches. Ashton had half +drained the canteen on the way up the mountain. Before sitting down +Blake had rinsed out his mouth and taken a few swallows of water. +After eating, he started to take another drink, noticed his +companion's hot dry face, and stopped after a single sip. + +"Guess you need it more than I do," he remarked, as he rose to his +feet. "Time to start. I wish to go around and down the mountain on the +other side of the gulch." + +"How about the--the 'if'?" inquired Ashton. + +"Killed," answered Blake. "There now is only one left. If that comes +out the same way, Dry Mesa will have good cause to change its name." + +"You can tunnel through from the gulch to the canyon?" exclaimed +Ashton. + +"Yes; and I shall do so--if Deep Canyon is not too deep." + +"I hope it is a thousand feet below Dry Mesa!" said Ashton. + +"In the circumstances," Blake replied to the fervent declaration, "I +am glad to hear you say it." + +Ashton stared, but could detect no sarcasm in the other's smile of +commendation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +A SHOT IN THE DUSK + + +They returned to their grazing ponies, and at once started the descent +of the mountain, after crossing the ravine where they had seen the +wolf. Blake chose a route that brought them down into the valley above +the waterhole shortly before five o'clock. They cantered the remaining +distance along the wide, gravelly wash of the creek bed to the dike. + +Looking down from the dike, they saw that Knowles and Gowan had come +up the creek and were waiting for them in company with the ladies. +Ashton set spurs to his horse and dashed across above the pool, to +descend the slope to the party. Blake descended on the other side, to +water his horse and slake his own thirst. + +To Ashton's chagrin, Isobel joined Genevieve in hastening to meet the +engineer. He rode down beside the two men and jumped off to follow the +ladies. But Gowan sprang before him. + +"Hold on," he said. "Mr. Knowles wants your report." + +"If you'll oblige us, Lafe," added the cowman. "I'm pretty much worked +up." + +"You have cause to be!" replied Ashton. "He says the only question +left is whether the water in the canyon is not at too low a level. We +measured across from the creek gulch to the canyon. A tunnel is +practicable, he says." + +"Through all that mountain?" scoffed Gowan. "It's solid rock, clean +through. It would take him a hundred years to burrow a hole like +that." + +"You know nothing of engineering and its tools. We now have electric +drills that will eat into granite like cheese," condescendingly +explained Ashton. + +"Think I don't know that? But just you try to figure out how he's +going to get his electricity for his drills," retorted Gowan. + +Without stopping for his disconcerted rival to reply, he turned his +back on him and started towards Isobel. The girl was running up from +the pool, her face almost pitiful with disappointment. + +"Oh, Daddy!" she called, "Mr. Blake says that if the water in the +canyon--" + +"Needn't tell me, honey. I know already," broke in her father, +hastening to meet her. + +She flung her arms about his neck, and sobbed brokenly: "I'm--I'm so +sorry for you, D-Daddy!" + +"There, there now!" he soothed, awkwardly patting her back. "'Tisn't +like you to cry before you're hurt." + +"No, no--you! not me. It doesn't matter about me!" + +"Doesn't it, though! But I'm not hurt either, as yet. It's a long ways +from being a sure thing." + +"All the way down to the bottom of Deep Canyon!" put in Ashton. + +"And then some!" added Gowan. "I've hit on another 'if,' Miss +Chuckie." + +"You have? Oh, Kid, tell us!" + +"It's this: How's he going to get electricity to dig his tunnel?" + +Blake was coming up from the pool, with his baby in one arm and his +wife clinging fondly to the other. He met the coldly exultant glance +of Gowan, and smiled. + +"The only question regarding the power is one of cost, Mr. Gowan," he +said. "There is no coal near enough to be hauled. But gasolene is not +bulky. If there was water power to generate electricity, a tunnel +could be bored at half the cost I have figured. The point is that +there is no water power available, nor will there be until the tunnel +is finished." + +"What! You talk about finishing the tunnel? Didn't you say it is still +uncertain about the water?" demanded Knowles. + +"I was merely explaining to Mr. Gowan," replied Blake. "The question +he raised is one of the factors in our problem as to whether an +irrigation project is practicable. We now know that we have the land +for it, the tunnel site, the reservoir site--" he pointed to the +valley above the dike--"and I have figured that the cost of +construction would not be excessive. All that remains is to determine +if we have the water. I have already explained that this will require +a descent into the canyon." + +"You say that that will decide it, one way or the other?" queried +Knowles, his forehead creased with deep lines of foreboding. + +"Yes," replied Blake. "I regret that you feel as you do about it. +Consider what it would mean to hundreds, yes, thousands of people, if +this mesa were watered. I assure you that you, too, would benefit by +the project." + +"I don't care for any such benefit, Mr. Blake. I've been a cowman for +twenty-five years. I want to keep my range until the time comes for me +to take the long trail." + +"It would be hard to change," agreed the engineer. "However, the point +now is to find what Deep Canyon has to tell us." + +"You still think you can go down it?" + +"Yes, if I have ropes, a two-pound hammer, and some iron pins; +railroad spikes and picket-pins would do." + +"Going to rope the rocks and pull them up for steps?" asked Gowan. + +"I shall need two or three hundred feet of half-inch manila," said +Blake, ignoring the sarcasm. + +"They may have it at Stockchute," said Knowles. "Kid, you can drive +over with the wagon and fetch Mr. Blake all the rope and other things +he wants. I can't stand this waiting much longer." + +"There will be no time lost," said Blake. "It will take Ashton and me +all of tomorrow to carry a line of levels up the mountain." + +"Why need you do that, Tom?" asked his wife. + +"Yes, why, if all that's left is to go down into the canyon?" added +Isobel, dabbing the tears from her wet eyes. + +Ashton thrust in an answer before Blake could speak. "We must see how +high the upper mesa is above this one, Miss Chuckie, and then compare +the difference of altitude with the depth of the canyon, to see whether +its bottom is above or below the bottom of the gulch." + +"Oh--measure up and then down, to see which way is longest," said +Genevieve. + +"Sorry, ma'am," broke in Knowles. "We'll have to be starting now to +get home by dark. If you think you can trust me with that young man, +I'd like the honor of packing him all the way in. I've toted calves +for miles, so I guess I can hold onto a baby if I use both hands." + +"You shall have him!" replied Genevieve, smiling like a daughter as +she met the look in his grave eyes. "Tom, give Thomas to Mr. +Knowles--when he is safe in the saddle." + +Even Gowan cracked a smile at this cautious qualification. He hastened +to bring Isobel's horse and hold him for her--which gave Ashton the +opportunity to help her mount. Both services were needless, but she +rewarded each eager servitor with a dimpled smile. When Blake handed +the baby up to Knowles, his wife, untroubled by mock modesty, gave him +a loving kiss. He lifted her bodily into the saddle, and she rode off +with her three companions. + +Isobel, however, wheeled within the first few yards, and came back for +a parting word: "You can expect us quite early tomorrow. We will +overtake you on your way up the mountain. I wish Genevieve to see the +canyon. Good night--Pleasant dreams!" + +She had addressed Ashton, but her last smile was for Blake, and it was +undisguisedly affectionate. As she loped away after the others, Ashton +frowned, and, picking up his rifle, started off up the valley. Blake +was staring after the girl with a wondering look. He turned to cast a +quizzical glance at the back of the resentful lover. + +When the latter had disappeared around the hill, the engineer took the +frying pan and walked up into the creek bed above the dike. After +going some distance over the gravel bars, he came to a place where +the swirl of the last freshet had gouged a hole almost to bedrock. +Scooping a panful of sand and gravel from the bottom of the hole, he +went back and squatted down beside the pool within easy reach of the +water. + +He picked the larger pebbles from the pan, added water, and began to +swirl the contents around with a circular motion. Each turn flirted +some of the sand and water over the pan's beveled edge. Every little +while he renewed the water. At last the pan's contents were reduced to +a half dozen, irregular, dirty, little lumps and a handful of "black +sand" in which gleamed numbers of yellow particles. + +Blake put the nuggets into his pocket and threw the rest out into the +pool. He returned to the tent and sat down to re-check his level-book +and his calculations on the approximate cost of the tunnel. Sundown +found him still figuring; but when twilight faded into dusk, he put +away his fieldbook and started a fire for supper. + +He was in the act of setting on a pan of bacon when, without the +slightest warning, a bullet cut the knot of the loose neckerchief +under his downbent chin. In the same instant that he heard the ping of +the shot he pitched sideways and flattened himself on the ground with +the chuck-box between him and the fire. A roll and a quick crawl took +him into the underbrush beyond the circle of firelight. No second +bullet followed him in his amazingly swift movements. He lay +motionless, listening intently, but no sound broke the stillness of +the evening except the distant wail of a coyote and the hoot of an +owl. + +Half an hour passed, and still the engineer waited. The dusk deepened +into darkness. At last a heavy footfall sounded up on the dike. Blake +rose, and slipping silently to the tent, groped about until he found a +heavy iron picket-pin. + +Someone came down the slope and kicked his way petulantly through the +bushes to the dying fire. He threw on an armful of brush. The light of +the up-blazing flame showed Ashton standing beside the chuck-box, +rifle in hand. But he dropped the weapon to pick up the overturned +frying pan, which lay at his feet. + +"Hello, Blake!" he sang out irritably. "I supposed you'd have supper +waiting. Haven't turned in this early, have you?" + +"No," replied Blake, and he came forward, carelessly swinging the +picket-pin. "Thought I saw a coyote sneaking about, and tried to trick +him into coming close enough for me to nail him with this pin." + +"With that!" scoffed Ashton. "But it would do as well as my rifle. I +took a shot at a wolf, and then the mechanism jammed. I can't get it +to work." + +"You fired a shot?" asked Blake. + +"Yes. Was it too far off for you to hear? I circled all around these +hills." + +"No, I heard it," replied Blake, looking close into the other's sullen +face. "You may not have been as far away as you thought." + +"I was far enough," grumbled Ashton. "I've walked till I'm hungry as a +shark." + +"Do you realize that you want to be careful how you shoot with these +high-power rifles?" asked Blake. "They carry a mile or more." + +"I've carried mine more than that, and _it_ won't carry an inch," +complained Ashton. "Wish you would see if you can fix it, while I get +on some bacon." + +Blake took his scrutinizing gaze from his companion's face, and picked +up the rifle. Ashton showed plainly that he was tired and hungry and +very irritable, but there was no trace of guilt in his look or manner. +While he hurriedly prepared supper, Blake took apart the mechanism of +the rifle. He discovered the trouble at once. + +"This is easy," he said. "Nothing broken--just a screw loose. Have you +been monkeying with the parts, to see how they work?" + +"No; I don't care a hang how they work. What gets me is that they +didn't work!" + +"Queer, then, how this screw got loose," said Blake as he tightened it +with the blade of his pocket knife. "It sets tight enough. Of course +it might have come from the factory a bit loose, and jarred out with +the firing; but neither seems probable." + +"Is it all right now?" queried Ashton. + +"Yes.--Seems to me someone _must_ have loosened this screw." + +"What's the difference how it happened, if it will not happen again?" +irritably replied Ashton. "Guess this bacon is fried enough. Let's +eat." + +Blake recoupled the rifle, emptied the magazine, tested the mechanism, +refilled the magazine, and joined his ravenous companion in his +ill-cooked meal. + +Immediately after eating, Ashton flung himself down in the tent. A few +minutes later Blake crept in beside him and struck a match. The young +man had already fallen into the deep slumber of utter physical and +mental relaxation. Blake went outside and listened to the wailing of +the coyotes. Difficult as it was to determine the direction of their +mournful cries, he at last satisfied himself that they were circling +entirely around the camp. + +A watchdog could not have indicated with greater certainty that there +was no other wild beast or any human being lurking near the waterhole. +Blake crept back into the tent and was soon fast asleep beside his +companion. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +ON THE BRINK + + +Early to bed, early to rise. The two men were up at dawn. During the +night the coyotes had sneaked into the camp. But Blake had fastened +the food in the chuck-box and slung everything gnawable up in the +branches out of reach of the sly thieves. + +At sunrise the two started out on their day's work, Ashton carrying +his rifle and canteen and the level rod, Blake with the level and a +bag containing their lunch and a two-quart sirup-can of water. + +"We'll run a new line from the dike bench, around the hill and across +the valley the way we rode out yesterday," said the engineer, as they +climbed the slope above the waterhole. "That will give us a check by +cross-tying to the line of the creek levels where it runs into the +gulch." + +"Can't you trust to the accuracy of your own work?" asked Ashton with +evident intent to mortify. + +Blake smiled in his good-natured way. "You forget the first rule of +engineering. Always check when you can, then re-check and check +again.--Now, if you'll kindly give me a reading off that bench." + +Ashton complied, though with evident ill will. He had wakened in good +spirits, but was fast returning to his sullenness of the previous day. +He took his time in going from the bench-mark to the first turning +point. Blake moved up past him with inspiring briskness, but the +younger man kept to his leisurely saunter. In rounding the corner of +the hill twice as much time was consumed as was necessary. + +When they came to the last turn at the foot of the rocky slope, where +the line struck out across the valley towards the foot of the mountain +side, Ashton paused to roll a cigarette before holding his rod for the +reading. Small as was the incident, it was particularly aggravating to +an engineer. The reading would have taken only a moment, and he could +then have rolled his cigarette and smoked it while Blake was moving +past him for the next "set up." Instead, he deliberately kept Blake +waiting until the cigarette had been rolled and lighted. + +Blake "pulled up" his level and started forward, his face impassive. +Ashton leaned jauntily on the rod, sucked in a mouthful of smoke, and +raising his cigarette, flicked the ash from the tip with his little +finger. At the same instant a bullet from the crags above him pierced +the crown of his hat. He pitched forward on his face, rolled half +over, and lay quiet. + +Most men would have been dumfounded by the frightful suddenness of the +occurrence--the shot and the instant fall of Ashton. It was like a +stroke of lightning out of a clear sky. Blake did not stand gaping +even for a moment. As Ashton's senseless body struck the ground, he +sprang sideways and bent to lay down his instrument, with the +instinctive carefulness of an old railroad surveyor. A swift rush +towards Ashton barely saved him from the second bullet that came +pinging down from the hill crest. It burned across the back of his +shoulder. + +Heedless of the blood spurting from the wound in the side of Ashton's +head, Blake snatched up the automatic rifle and fired at a point +between two knobs of rock on the hill crest. Promptly a hat appeared, +then an arm and a rifle. It might have been expected that a bullet +would have instantly followed; yet the assassin was strangely +deliberate about getting his aim. Blake did not wait for him. He began +to fire as fast as the automatic ejector and reloader set the rifle +trigger. Three bullets sped up at the assassin before he had time to +drop back out of sight. + +Blake started up the hillside, his pale eyes like white-hot steel. He +was in a fury, but it was the cold fury of a man too courageous for +reckless bravado. He went up the hill as an Apache would have charged, +dodging from cover to cover and, wherever possible, keeping in line +with a rock or tree in his successive rushes. At every brief stop he +scanned the ridge crest for a sign of his enemy. But the assassin did +not show himself. For all that Blake could tell, he might be waiting +for a sure shot, or he might be lying with a bullet through his +brain. + +To avoid suicidal exposure, the engineer was compelled to veer off to +the right in his ascent. He reached the ridge crest without a shot +having been fired at him. Leaping suddenly to his feet, he scrambled +up to the flat top of a high crag, from which he could peer down upon +the others. The natural embrazure from which the assassin had fired +was exposed to his view; but the place was empty. He looked cautiously +about at the many huge bowlders behind which a hundred men might have +been crouching unseen by him, advantageous as was his position. To +flush the assassin would require a bold rush over and around the +rocks. + +Blake set his powerful jaw and gathered himself together for the leap +down from his crag. At that moment his alert eye caught a glimpse of a +swiftly moving object on the mesa at the foot of the far side of the +hill. It was a horse and rider racing out of sight around the bend of +a ridge point. + +Blake whipped the rifle to his shoulder. But the cowardly fugitive had +disappeared. He lowered the rifle and started back down the hill +faster than he had come up. Leaping like a goat, sliding, rushing--he +raced to the bottom in a direct line for Ashton. + +The victim lay as he had fallen, his head ghastly red with blood, +which was still oozing from his wound. Blake dropped down beside the +flaccid body and tore open the front of the silk shirt. He thrust in +his hand. For some moments he was baffled by the violent throbbing of +his own pulse. Then, at last, he detected a heartbeat, very feeble and +slow yet unmistakable. + +He turned Ashton on his side, and washing away the blood with water +from the canteen, examined the wound with utmost carefulness. The +bullet had pierced the scalp and plowed a furrow down along the side +of the skull, grazing but not penetrating the bone. + +"Only stunned.... Mighty close, though," muttered Blake. He looked at +the ashen face of the wounded man and added apprehensively, "Too +close!... Concussion--" + +Hastily he knotted a compress bandage made of handkerchiefs and +neckerchiefs around the bleeding head, and stretching Ashton flat +on his back, began to pump his arms up and down as is done in +resuscitating a drowned person. After a time Ashton's face began +to lose its deathly pallor. His heart beat less feebly; he drew in a +deep sighing breath, and stared up dazedly at Blake, with slowly +returning consciousness. + +"I'll smoke all I please and when I please," he murmured in a +supercilious drawl. + +Blake dashed his face with the cupful of water still left in the +canteen. The wounded man flushed with quick anger and attempted to +rise. + +"What--what you--How dare you?" he spluttered, only to sink back with +a groan, "My head! O-o-oh! You've smashed my head!" + +"You're in luck that your head _wasn't_ smashed," replied Blake. "It +was a bullet knocked you over." + +"Bullet?" echoed Ashton. + +"Yes. Scoundrel up on the hill tried to get us both." + +"Up on the hill?" Ashton twisted his head about, in alarm, to look at +the hill crest. "But if he--He may shoot again." + +"Not this time. I went up for him. He went down faster, other side the +hill. Saw him on the run. The sneaking--" Blake closed his lips on the +word. After a moment his grimness relaxed. "Came back to start your +funeral. Found you'd cheated the undertaker. How do you feel now?" + +"I believe I--" began Ashton, again trying to raise himself, only to +sink back as before. "My head!--What makes me so weak?" + +"Don't worry," reassured Blake. "It's only a scalp wound. You are weak +from the shock and a little loss of blood. I'll get you a drink from +my can, and then tote you into camp. You'll be all right in a day or +two." + +He fetched the can of water from his bag, which he had dropped beside +the level. Ashton drank with the thirstiness of one who has lost +blood. When at last his thirst was quenched, he glanced up at Blake +with a look of half reluctant apology. + +"I said something about your striking me," he murmured. "I did not +understand--did not realize I had been shot. You see, just before--" + +"That's all right," broke in Blake. "I owe you a bigger apology. Last +evening, while you were out hunting, someone took a shot at me. It +must have been this same sneaking skunk. I thought it was you." + +"You thought I could try to--to shoot you?" muttered Ashton. + +"Yes. There's the old matter of the bridge, and you seem to think I am +responsible for what your father has done. But after you came in, I +soon concluded that you had fired towards the camp unintentionally." + +"If you had asked," explained Ashton, "I was around at the far end of +these hills, nearly two miles from the camp, when I shot at the wolf +and the rifle went wrong." + +"That was a fortunate occurrence--your going out and seeing the wolf;" +said Blake. "If you hadn't taken that shot, we would not have known +your rifle was out of gear. My first bullet merely made the sneak rise +up to pot me. If the rapidity of the next three shots hadn't rattled +him, I believe he would have potted me, instead of running." + +"So that was it?" exclaimed Ashton. "Do you know, I believe it must be +the same scoundrel who attacked me the first day I rode down Dry +Fork. No doubt he remembered how I ripped loose at him with the +automatic-catch set." + +"Your thieving guide?" said Blake. "But why should he try to kill +me?" + +"I'm sure I don't know," murmured Ashton. "Another drink, please." + +"I shall tote you back to camp, and--No, I'll lay you over there in +the shade and go up to see if he is in sight." + +Picking up the wounded man as easily as if he had been a child, the +engineer carried him over under a tree, fetched him the can of water, +and for the second time climbed the rocky hillside. Scaling his +lookout crag, he surveyed the country below him. A mile down the creek +two riders were coming up towards the waterhole at an easy canter. He +surmised that they were his wife and Miss Knowles. + +Their approach brought a shade of anxiety into his strong face. He +swept the landscape with his glance. A little cloud of dust far out on +the mesa towards Split Peak caught his eye. He looked at it +steadfastly under his hand, and drew a deep breath of relief as he +made out a fleeing horse and rider. + +He descended to Ashton, and taking him up pick-a-back, swung away for +the camp with long, swift strides. Before he had gone half the +distance, he felt Ashton's arms loosening their clasp of his neck. He +caught him as he sank in a swoon. Without a moment's hesitation, he +slung his senseless burden up on his shoulder like a sack of meal, and +hastened on faster than before. + +Swiftly as he walked, the ladies reached the camp before him. When he +came to the top of the dike slope, his wife had dismounted and Isobel +was handing down the baby to her. As the girl slipped out of the +saddle she looked up the slope. With a startled cry, she darted to +meet Blake. + +Quick to forestall her alarm, he called in a gasping shout: "Not +serious--not serious!" + +"Oh, Tom--Mr. Blake!" she cried. "What has happened?" + +"Scalp wound--faint--blood loss," Blake panted in terse answer. + +"He is wounded? O-o-oh!" She ran up and looked fearfully at the +bloodsoaked bandages across Ashton's hanging head. + +Blake staggered on down the slope without pausing. Genevieve had +started to meet him. But at her husband's panting explanation, she +laid the baby on the nearest soft spot of earth and darted to the +kit-chest. She was opening a "first aid" box when Blake crashed +through the bushes and sank down with his burden under the first +tree. + +Genevieve hastened towards the men, calling to her companion: "Water, +Chuckie--that pail by the fireplace." + +The girl flew to fetch a bucket of water from the pool. + +Blake was peering anxiously down into Ashton's white face. +"Didn't--know--but--that--" he panted. + +"No," reassured his wife. "He will soon be all right." + +She drew the unconscious man flat on his back and held a bottle of +ammonia to his nostrils. The powerful stimulant revived him just as +the girl came running back with the water. He opened his eyes, and the +first object they rested upon was her anxious pitiful face. He smiled +and whispered gallantly: "Don't be afraid. I'm all right--now!" + +"Then I'll drink first," said Blake. + +He took a deep draught from the pail, doused a hatful of water over +his hot head and face, and stretched out to cool off. Genevieve, +assisted by the deeply concerned girl, took the handkerchief bandage +from Ashton's head and washed the wound with an antiseptic solution. +She then clipped away the hair from the edges and drew the scalp +together with a number of stitches. + +In this last the hardy cowgirl was unable to help. She clasped +Ashton's hand convulsively and sat shuddering. Ashton smiled up into +her tender pitying eyes. Genevieve had numbed his wound with cocaine. +He was quite satisfied with the situation. + +Another antiseptic washing and a compress of sterilized cotton bound +on with surgical bandages completed the operation. Then, when it was +all over with, the young mother, who had gone through everything with +the aplomb and deftness of a surgeon, quietly sank back in a faint. On +the instant Blake was reaching for the ammonia bottle. + +A whiff restored his wife to consciousness. She opened her eyes, and +smiling at her weakness, sought to rise. He held her down with gentle +force and ordered her to lie quiet. + +"I shall fetch Tommy," he added. "We'll all take a _siesta_ until +noon." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE PLOTTERS + + +When Blake came back with the baby, Isobel begged him for a full +account of how Ashton had been wounded. In relating the affair he +sought to minimize the danger that he had incurred, and he omitted all +mention of the bullet shot at him the previous evening. But his +account was frequently interrupted by exclamations from his wife and +Isobel. + +At the end he dwelt strongly on the cowardly haste of the assassin's +flight; only to be met by a shrewdly anxious rejoinder from the girl: +"He ran away after he attacked Lafe the other time. He will come back +again!" + +"Oh, Tom!" cried Genevieve--"if he does!" + +"We will get him, that is all there is to it," replied her husband. +"What do you say to that, Ashton?" + +"We will not have the chance," said Ashton. "I don't believe he has +nerve enough to try it the third time. But if he should--" + +"No, no! I hope he keeps running forever!" fervently wished Isobel. +"Don't you realize how close a miss that was, Lafe?--and the other +time, too?" + +"I like having one Miss close," he punned. + +The girl blushed, but failed to show any sign of resentment. + +Blake looked significantly at his wife. "Don't know but what I've +changed my mind about a _siesta_," he remarked. "Here's Tommy gone to +sleep just when I wanted to fight him. Do you think Miss Chuckie can +keep him and Ashton from running away if I go to bring in the level?" + +"You say you had started to run the line of levels across to the +mountain?" she asked. + +"Yes.... This little pleasantry has knocked us out of a day's work and +you out of your trip to the canyon." + +"But why couldn't I rod for you?" she suggested. "I noticed Lafayette +the other day. It seems easier than golfing." + +"It is." + +"Then I shall do it. A good walk is exactly what I need." + +"Genevieve!" hastily appealed Isobel. "Surely you'll not go off and +leave me--us!" + +"Thomas is asleep, and Lafayette needs to be quiet," was the demure +reply. "Come, Tom. We'll run the levels over to the foot of the +mountain, at least." + +With a reproachful glance at the smiling couple, the girl slipped over +to put Thomas Herbert between herself and Ashton. Blake found another +bag and can, which last he filled with water from the bucket. +Genevieve put on the cowboy hat that she had borrowed at the ranch, +and sprang up to join him. + +He paused for a question: "How about leaving the rifle?" + +Isobel put her hand to a fold in her skirt and drew out her +long-barreled automatic pistol. "I can do as well or better with +this," she answered. + +"What a wicked looking thing!" exclaimed Genevieve. "Surely, dear, you +do not shoot it?" + +"Shoot it!" put in Ashton. "Hasn't she told you about saving me from a +rattler?" + +"She did?" + +"Yes," he replied, and he told about the rattlesnake in the +bunkhouse. + +"But I ought to have shot quicker," Isobel explained, when he +finished. "I missed the head, though I aimed at it." + +"The way we've left Thomas about on the ground!" exclaimed Genevieve. +"Are there any of the horrid things around here? Is that why you carry +the pistol?" + +"No, no, don't be afraid. We've killed them out here, long ago, +because of the cattle. I carry my pistol on the chance of killing +wolves. They're dreadfully harmful to the calves and colts, you +know." + +"Good for you," praised Blake, as he picked up the rifle. "Well, we're +off." + +He started away, hand in hand with his wife. They were soon at the top +of the dike slope and almost dancing along over the dry turf. It was +months since they had been alone together in the open, and they were +still deeper in love than at the time of their marriage--if that were +possible. + +They soon reached the place where the shooting had occurred. Here they +picked up the lunch bag, Ashton's canteen and his hat, now punctured +with another bullet hole; and at once started to carry the line of +levels out across the valley. A few words of instruction made an +efficient rodwoman of Genevieve, so that they soon reached the foot of +the ridge up which her husband had led Ashton the previous day. Here +he established a bench-mark, and turned along the base of the +escarpment to the mouth of Dry Fork Gully, where he checked the line +of levels that had been run up the bed of the creek. + +"Good work--less than three tenths difference, and all that I am +concerned about is an error in feet," he commented. "It's getting +along towards noon. We'll go up the gulch, and eat our lunch in the +shade. This place is almost as much of a sight as the canyon." + +Genevieve more than agreed with her husband's opinion when he led her +up into the stupendous gorge and the walls of rock began to tower on +each side ever steeper and loftier. + +"Oh, I do not see how anything can be so grand, so awesome as this!" +she cried, gazing up the precipices. "It makes me positively giddy to +look at such heights!" + +"Better stop off for a while," advised Blake. "We are almost to where +the bottom tilts skyward. You can stargaze while we are eating lunch. +It's rougher along here. We can get on faster this way." + +He picked her up in his arms as though she were a feather, and carried +her on up the gulch to the foot of the Titanic chute. Here, resting on +a flat rock in the cool semi-twilight of the gorge bottom, they ate +their lunch and talked with as much zest as if they were still new +acquaintances. + +"Those awful cliffs!" she murmured, lowering her gaze from the +colossal walls above her. "I cannot bear to look at them any longer. +They overpower me!" + +"Wait till you look down into the canyon," replied her husband. "In +some ways it is more tremendous than the Grand Canyon of the +Colorado--the width is so much narrower in proportion to the depth." + +"What makes these frightful chasms?--earthquakes?" + +"Water," he replied. + +"Water? Not all these hundreds and thousands of feet cut down through +the solid rock!" + +"Every foot," he insisted. "Think of water flowing along in the +same bed and always washing sand and gravel and even bowlders +downstream--grind, grind, grind, through the centuries and hundreds of +centuries." + +"But there is no water here, Tom." + +"Not now, and no chance of any this time of year, else I wouldn't +have brought you in here. A sudden heavy June rain up above there +would pour down a torrent that would drown us before we could run +three hundred yards. Imagine a flood roaring down that bumpy +shoot-the-chutes." + +"I can't! It's too terrifying. Is that the way it will be if you get +the water and dig the tunnel?" + +"No. At this end, the tunnel may terminate any place from down here to +a thousand feet up, but in any event far below the top. I hope it +proves to be well up. The greater the drop to the level of the mesa, +the more turbines could be put in to generate electricity." + +"That sounds so inspiring! But, Dear--" Genevieve looked at her +husband with a shade of anxiety--"even if this project is feasible, do +you feel you should carry it through?" + +"You mean on account of Miss Chuckie and her father," he replied. "I +have considered their side of the matter, and even at the first I saw +how--Listen, Sweetheart. No one knows better than you that I'm an +engineer to the very marrow of my bones. My work in life is to +construct,--to harness the forces of nature and compel them to serve +mankind; and to save waste--waste material, waste energy--and put it +to use." + +"Don't I know, Tom!" + +"Well, then," he went on, "in the bottom of Deep Canyon is a +river--waste waters down there beyond the reach of this rich but +waterless land, down in the gloom, doing no good to anything or +anybody, frittering away their energy on barren rocks. Why, it's as +bad as the way Ashton, with all the good qualities we now see he has +in him--the way he dissipated his strength and his brains and his +father's money." + +"Ah, Dear! wasn't it a splendid thing when he was thrown out of his +rut of wastefulness?" + +"Otherwise known as the primrose path, or the great white way," added +Blake. "It certainly was a throw out. I'm as pleased as I am +astonished that he seems to have landed squarely on his feet." + +"What a marvelous change it has made in him!" exclaimed Genevieve. +"Sometimes I hardly can believe it really is Lafayette. He is so +serious and manly." + +"Good thing he has changed," replied Blake. "If Miss Chuckie hadn't +told us he had made a clean breast of that bridge, I should begin to +feel worried about--Do you know, Sweetheart, it's the strangest thing +in the world the way I feel towards that girl. It's not because she is +so lovely. Of course I enjoy her beauty, but that's not it. If Tommy +were a girl and grown up--that's how I feel." + +"She is a very dear, sweet girl." + +"So are several of your friends--our friends," said Blake. "This is +different. The very first day we met her, there was something about +her voice and face--seemed as though I already knew her." + +"She knew you, through what she had read of you. She warned me, in +that frank, charming way of hers, that you were a hero to her and I +must not mind if she worshiped you openly." + +Blake laughed pleasedly. "Isn't she the greatest! And the way she +chums with me! Wonder if that is what makes Ashton so sore at me? The +idiot! Can't he see the difference?" + +"Lovers always are blind," said Genevieve. + +"I'm not," he rejoined, his eyes, as he gazed down into hers, as blue +and tender as Isobel's. + +The young wife blushed deliciously and rewarded him with a kiss. + +"But about Chuckie?" she returned to the previous question. "You were +going to tell me--" + +"I am going to tell you something you will think is very fanciful--and +it is! Do you know why I am so taken with that girl? It's because +she reminds me of my sisters--what they might have grown to be!... +God!--" he bent over with his face in his shaking hands--"God! If only +they had gone any other way than--the way they did!" + +"My poor dear boy!" soothed his wife, her hand on his downbent head. +"Let us trust that they are in a happier world, a world where sorrow +and pain--" + +"If only I could believe that!" he groaned. + +Genevieve waited a few moments and with quiet tactfulness sought to +divert him from his grief: "If Chuckie reminds you of them, Dear--" + +"She might be either--only Mary, the older one, had dark brown eyes. +But Belle's were blue like Chuckie's." + +"What a pure blue her eyes are--the sweet true girl! Why can't you +regard her as your sister, and--and give over further thought of this +irrigation project?" + +Blake looked up, completely diverted. "You little schemer! So that's +what you've been working around to?" + +"But why not?" she insisted. + +"I'll tell you. It is because I am so fond of Chuckie that I am +determined to get water on Dry Mesa, if it is possible." + +"But--" + +"To make use of those waste waters," he explained; "to turn this dusty +semi-desert into a garden; and to benefit Chuckie by doubling the +value of her father's property." + +"How could that be, when the farmers would divide up his range?" + +"He owns five sections, Chuckie told me. What are they worth now? But +with water on them, even without a single tree planted, they would +sell as orchard land for more than all his herd; and he would still +have his cattle. He could sell them to the settlers for more than what +he now gets shipping them over the range." + +"I begin to see, Tom. I might have known it." + +"I'm telling you, of course. We're to keep it from them as a happy +surprise, because it may not come off. There's still the question +whether the water in the canyon--" + +"But if it is! How delightful it will be to help Mr. Knowles and +Chuckie, besides, as you say, turning this desert into a garden!" + +"That valley is a natural reservoir site to hold flood waters," +continued the engineer. "All that's needed is a dam built across the +narrow place above the waterhole, with the dike for foundation. I +would build it of rock from the tunnel, run down on a gravity tram." + +"You've worked it all out?" + +"Not all, only the general scheme. If the tunnel comes through high +enough up here, we shall be able to manufacture cheap electricity to +sell. Just think of our settlers plowing by electricity, and their +wives cooking on electric stoves." + +"You humorous boy!" + +"No, I mean it. There's another thing--I wouldn't whisper it even to +you if you weren't my partner as well as my wife. I have reason to +believe the creek bed above the dike is a rich placer. I've planned to +take Knowles and Ashton in on that discovery--Gowan, too, if Knowles +asks it." + +"A placer?" + +"Yes, placer mine--gold washed down in the creek bed. But it's a small +thing compared with another discovery I've made. Up there--" Blake +pointed up the steep ledges that he had climbed--"I found a bonanza." + +"Bonanza? What is that, pray?" + +"A mint, a John D. bank account, a--Guess?" + +"A gold mine! Oh, Tom, how romantic!" + +"Yes; it's free-milling quartz. We can mill it ourselves, and not have +to pay tribute to the Smelting Trust. That's romance--or at least +sounds like it. You will pay for all the development work, in return +for one-third share. I shall take a third, as the discoverer, and +Chuckie gets the remaining third as grub-staker." + +"As what?" + +"She is staking us with grub--food and supplies. If she had not sent +for me to come and look over the situation, I should not have been +here to stumble on this mine. So she gets a share." + +"I'm glad, glad, Tom! Isn't it nice to be able to do fine things for +others? I'm so glad for Chuckie's sake, because, if Lafayette keeps on +as he is doing now, he may win his father's forgiveness." + +"What has that to do with Chuckie?" + +"You and I know what she is, Dear; yet if she had no money, his father +might insist on regarding her as a mere farm girl. He is as--as +snobbish as I was when we were flung ashore by the storm, there in +Mozambique." + +"I fail to see that it matters any to Chuckie what Ashton senior +thinks." + +"Of course you don't see. You're as blind as when I--" the lady +blushed--"as when I had to fling myself at you to make you see. The +dear girl is as deeply in love with Lafayette as he is with her." + +"No? She doesn't show it. How can you tell?" + +"You know that Mr. Gowan is desperately in love with her." + +"That stands to reason. He couldn't help but be. Can't say I like +the fellow. He may be all right, though. Must have some good +qualities--Chuckie seems to be very fond of him." + +"As fond as if he were a brother. No; Lafayette is to be the happy +man--unless he backslides. We must help him." + +Blake nodded. "That's another thing that hangs on this project. If it +proves to be feasible, I can give Ashton a chance to make good as an +engineer. I used to think he must have bought his C.E. Now I see he +has the makings." + +"He can be brilliant when he chooses. If only he were not so--so +scatter-brained." + +"What he needed was a jolt heavy enough to shake him together. It +seems as though his father gave it to him." + +"That shock, and being picked up by Chuckie," agreed Genevieve. + +"We'll help her keep him braced until the cement sets," said her +husband. "It's even worse to let brains go to waste than water." + +"Far worse! What is the good of all your engineering--of all the +machinery, yes, and all the culture of civilization, if not to uplift +men and women? May the next generation work for the uplifting of all +mankind, both materially and spiritually!" + +"We might make a try at it ourselves," said Blake. "As for the future, +I know it will not be your fault if our member of the next generation +fails to do his share of uplift work." + +The young mother placed her hand on her bosom, and sprang up. "We +should be going back, Dear. Thomas will be wakening." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +INDIAN SHOES + + +They returned along the shadowy bottom of the great gorge to the +glaring sunshine of the open creek bed, where they had left the rod +and level. Blake placed both upon one of his broad shoulders, and gave +his wife the unencumbered arm to assist her somewhat hurried pace. + +As they approached the dike her hasty steps quickened to a run. She +darted ahead down to the camp. Thomas Herbert Vincent was vociferating +for his dinner. Blake followed at a walk. He was only a father. + +When he came down to the trees he found Isobel and Ashton alone. The +girl's manner was constrained and her color higher than usual. Ashton, +comfortably outstretched on a blanket with her saddle for pillow, +frowned petulantly at the intruder. But Isobel sprang up and came to +meet Blake, unable to conceal her relief. + +"I was so glad to see Genevieve," she said. "You came back just in +time." + +"How's that?" asked Blake, his eyes twinkling. + +She blushed, but quickly recovered from her confusion to dimple and +cast a teasing glance at Ashton. "Baby woke up," she answered. "You +may not know it, but babies cry when they fail to get what they +want." + +"He's getting what he wants--I'm not!" complained Ashton. + +"I--I must see if Genevieve needs anything," murmured the girl, and +she fled to the tent. + +"I need you!" Ashton called after her without avail. + +"How're you feeling?" inquired Blake. + +Ashton's frown deepened to a scowl. + +"Didn't mean how you feel towards me," added Blake. "I can guess that. +My reference was to your head." + +"I'm all right," snapped Ashton. "Needn't worry. I'm still weak and +dizzy, but I shall be quite able to do my work tomorrow." + +"That's fine," said the engineer, with insistent good humor. "However, +if you feel at all shaky in the morning, I can perhaps get Gowan, or +maybe Miss Chuckie would like to--" + +"No!" broke in Ashton. "She shall not! I will do it, I tell you." + +"Very well," said Blake. He put down the level and rod, but retained +the rifle. "Tell the ladies I shall be back before long. I am going +to look for something I forgot this morning." + +Without waiting for the other's reply, he returned up the dike slope +and around the bend of the hill to where Ashton had been shot. That +for which he was looking was not here, for he at once turned and +started up the hill. He climbed direct to the place where the assassin +had lain in wait. + +The bare ledge told Blake nothing, but from a crevice nearby he picked +out two long thirty-eight caliber rifle shells. He put them into his +pocket and went over to scan the mesa from the top of his lookout +crag. He could see no sign of the fugitive murderer. Down below the +mesa side of the hill, however, he saw a man riding up the bank of Dry +Fork, and recognized him as Knowles. + +Trained to alert observation by years of life on the range, the cowman +had already perceived Blake. He wheeled aside and rode towards the +hill when the engineer waved his hat and began to descend. The two met +at the foot of the rugged slope. + +"Howdy, Mr. Blake," greeted the cowman, "I thought I'd just ride up to +see how things are coming along." + +"Not so fast as they might, Mr. Knowles. We have stopped for +repairs." + +"Haven't broken your level?" + +"No. Ashton is laid up for the day with a scalp wound. We were shot +at this morning from up there--other side of the crest." + +"Shot at, and Lafe hit?" + +"Not seriously, though it could not well have been a closer shave. He +says he will be all right by tomorrow," said Blake, and he gave the +bald details of the occurrence in a few words. + +Knowles listened without comment, his leathery face stolid, but his +eyes glinting. When Blake had finished, he remarked shortly: "Must be +the same man. Let's see those shells." + +Blake handed over the two empty cartridge shells. + +"Thirty-eight," confirmed Knowles. "Same as were fired at Lafe before. +Kid and Chuckie showed me how a thirty-eight fitted the hole in Lafe's +silver flask. About where did the snake crawl down the hill?" + +"Not far from here. He could not have gone any considerable distance +along the top or side. He was down and riding away when I reached the +crags, and I had not lost much time coming up the other side." + +"It'll take an Indian to make out his tracks on this dry ground," +remarked the cowman. "We'll try a look, though, at his hawss's hoof +prints. Just keep behind, if you don't mind." + +He threw the reins over the head of his horse, and dismounted, to walk +slowly along the more level ground at the foot of the slope. Blake +followed, as he had requested, but scrutinizing the ground with a +gaze no less keenly observant than that of his companion. + +"Mighty queer," said Knowles, after they had carried their examination +over a hundred yards. "Either he came down more slanting or else--" + +"What do you make of this?" Blake interrupted, bending over a blurred +round print in the dust between two grass tufts. + +"_Sho!_" exclaimed the cowman as he peered at the mark. "That's why, +of course." + +"Indian shoes," said Blake. + +"You've seen a thing or two. You're no tenderfoot," remarked Knowles. + +"I have myself shrunk rawhide shoes on horses' hoofs when short of +iron shoes," Blake explained. "This would make a hard trail to run +down without hounds." + +The cowman straightened and looked at his companion, his weather-beaten +face set in quiet resolve. + +"I know what's better than hounds," he said. "This is one badman who +has played his game once too often. I'm going to run him down if it +takes all year and all the men in the county. There's a couple of Ute +bucks being held in the jail at Stockchute, to be tried for hunting +deer. I'm going to get the loan of them. The sheriff will turn out +with a posse, and we'll trail that snake, if it takes us clear over +into Utah." + +"We'll have a fair chance to get him with Ute trackers," agreed +Blake. + +Knowles shook his head. "Unless you're particular to come along, Mr. +Blake, I'd like you and Lafe to keep on with this survey. I've been +worrying over the chance of losing my range, till it's got on my +nerves." + +"Certainly, Mr. Knowles. I shall go ahead in the morning, if Ashton is +able to rod. It will be best, I suppose, for my wife and Miss Chuckie +to remain close at the ranch until you make sure where this trail +leads." + +"No; he's a snake, but the Indian shoes prove he's Western--He won't +strike at the ladies. Another thing, I'm going to give you Kid for +guard." + +"He may prefer to join the posse." + +"Of course he'll prefer that. You can count on Kid Gowan when it comes +to a man hunt. He'll stay, though, all right. I don't want Mrs. Blake +to think she has to stop indoors. With Kid on the lookout around your +camp, the ladies can feel free to come and go any time between sunup +and sundown, and you and Lafe can do what you want. There won't be any +more shooting, unless it's by Kid." + +"Very well," said Blake. "I'm not anxious to play hide and seek with a +man who shoots and runs. When can we expect the rope and spikes?" + +"That's another thing," replied Knowles. "Kid can be packing them and +your camp outfit up to the canyon while you and Lafe are running your +line of levels. He ought to be home by now. He was gone when the men +turned out this morning. Soon as I get back I'll send him up to camp +with you. He can bring along Rocket, to be ready for a chase, +providing we can find the brute. Queer about that hawss. Wanted to +ride him this morning. Found he'd got out and gone off the way he used +to before Lafe gentled him." + +While talking, the two men had returned to the cowman's horse and +started around the hill to the camp. They found Isobel and Genevieve +and the baby all engaged in entertaining Ashton. Knowles briefly +congratulated the wounded man, and led his pony down to the pool for a +drink. Blake had seated himself beside his wife. She handed the baby +to him, and remarking that she also wished to drink, she followed +Knowles. + +The cowman smiled at her reassuringly. "You're not afraid of any more +shooting, ma'am, are you?" he asked. "I've told your husband that Kid +is to come up to keep guard. He will stay right along, unless that +scoundrel is trailed down sooner." + +"Then I shall have no fear, Mr. Knowles." + +"You needn't, and you and Chuckie can come and go just the same as +ever. I don't want your visit spoiled. It's a great treat to all of us +to have you with us." + +"And to my husband and myself to be your guests! I have quite fallen +in love with your daughter, Mr. Knowles. If you'll permit me to say +it, you are very fortunate to have so lovely and lovable a girl." + +"Don't I know it, ma'am!" + +"So beautiful--and her character as beautiful as her face. How you +must prize her!" + +"Prize her!" repeated Knowles, his usual stolid face aglow with pride +and tenderness. "Why, ma'am, I couldn't hold her more in liking if she +was my own flesh and blood!" + +Genevieve suddenly bent down to hide the intense emotion that had +struck the color from her face. Yet after a moment's pause, she spoke +in a composed, almost casual tone: "Then Chuckie is not your own +daughter?" + +"Not in the way you mean. Hasn't she told you? I adopted her." + +"I see," remarked Genevieve, with a show of polite interest. "But of +course, taking her when a young infant, she has always thought of you +as her own father." + +"No--what I can't get over is that she feels that way, and I feel the +same to her, though I never saw or heard of her till she was going on +fourteen." + +"Ah!" Genevieve could no longer suppress her agitation. "Then she +is--I'm sure that she must be--You said she came from the East, from +Chicago?" + +"No, ma'am! I didn't say where she came from," curtly replied the +cowman. + +The shock of his brusqueness restored the lady to her usual quiet +composure. Looking up into his face, she found it as blank and +impenetrable as a cement wall. + +"You must pardon me," she murmured. "I myself am a Chicago girl, so +you must see how natural it is for me to hope that so sweet and +beautiful a girl as Chuckie came from my city." + +"Chuckie is my daughter," stated Knowles in a flat tone. + +"If you will kindly permit me to explain. My husband--" + +"Chuckie is my daughter, legally adopted," repeated the cowman. "You +can see what she is like. If that is not enough, ma'am, I can't +prevent you from declining our hospitality, though we'd be mighty +sorry to have you and your husband leave." + +The tears started into Genevieve's hazel eyes. "Mr. Knowles! how could +you think for a moment that I--that we--" + +"Excuse me, ma'am!" he hastened to apologize. "I didn't mean to hurt +your feelings. You see, I'm kind of prejudiced along some lines. I've +been bred up to the Western idea that it isn't just etiquette to ask +about people's antecedents. Real Western, I mean. Our city folks are +nearly as bad as you Easterners over family trees. As if a child isn't +as much descended from its mother's maternal grandmother as from its +father's paternal grandfather!" + +Genevieve smiled at this adroit diversion of the subject by the +seemingly simple Westerner, and replied: "My father's and mother's +parents were farm people. My husband worked his way up out of the +Chicago slums." + +"He did?" The cowman could not conceal his astonishment. He looked +curiously into the lady's high-bred face. "Well, now, that sure is +something to be right proud of--not that I'd have exactly expected you +to think so. If you'll excuse me, ma'am, I'm more surprised at the way +you feel about it than that he was able to do such a big thing." + +"No one is responsible for what he is born. But we are at least partly +entitled to the credit or discredit of what we become," she observed. + +"That's good American doctrine, ma'am--Western American!" approved +Knowles. + +"It should apply to women as well as men," she stated. + +"It ought," he dryly replied, and he jerked up the head of his pawing +horse. "Here, you! I guess it's high time we were starting in, ma'am. +Kid may think he's to lay over at the ranch until morning. We want to +get him out here before dusk. I don't reckon there's any show of that +snake coming back tonight, but it's as well to be on the safe side." + +He walked up the slope towards the others, unbuckling his cartridge +belt as he went. + +"Sling on your saddle, honey," he called to his daughter. + +The girl sprang up from beside Ashton and ran to fetch her own and +Genevieve's picketed ponies. Her father held out his belt and revolver +to the engineer. + +"Here's my Colt's, Mr. Blake," he said. "I have another at home. You +won't need it, but I may as well leave it. We're going to lope in now, +so as to hustle Kid out to you before night. Just swap me that +yearling for my gun. It wouldn't seem natural not to be toting +something that can make a noise." + +"Thomas never cries unless he needs attention," Genevieve sought to +defend her infant. + +"Yes, ma'am. It's a good thing he knows that much already. You have to +make yourself heard to get what you want in the world generally, as +well as in hostleries and eating-houses." + +Blake buckled on the cartridge belt, with its holstered revolver, and +went to help saddle the ponies. Ashton watched him and Isobel +narrowly. He was far from pleased with the familiarity of their talk +and manner towards one another. Twice the girl put her hand on Blake's +arm. + +In marked contrast to this affectionate intimacy, Isobel was distrait +and hurried when she came to take leave of the wounded man. He had +risen to his feet, and she could not ignore his proffered hand. But +she avoided his gaze and quickly withdrew her fingers from his warm +clasp to hurry off. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +MADONNA DOLOROSA + + +Blake was cooking supper when, shortly before sunset, Gowan drove up +to the waterhole, with a pony in lead behind the heavy wagon. Leaving +the wagon with the rope and other articles of his load on the far side +of the creek bed, he watered and picketed the horses, and came across +to the tent with his rifle and a roll of blankets. + +"Howdy, Mr. Blake. Got here in time for supper, I see," he remarked as +he unburdened himself. "Met Mr. Knowles and the ladies down near the +ranch. They told me about the shooting." He faced about to stare at +Ashton's bandaged head. "They told me you came mighty near getting +yours. You shore are a lucky tenderfoot." + +Ashton shrugged superciliously. "The worst of it is the additional +hole in my hat. I see you have a new one. Is that the latest style on +the range?" + +"Stetson, brand A-1.," replied the puncher. "How does it strike you, +Mr. Blake?--and my new shirt? Having a dude puncher on our range kind +of stirred up my emulosity. They don't have real cowboy attire like +his at an ordinary shorthorn cow town like Stockchute--but I did the +best I could." + +Blake made no response to this heavy badinage. He set the supper on +the chuck-box, and laconically said: "Come and get it." + +"Might have known you've been on round-up," remarked Gowan, with an +insistent sociability oddly at variance with his usual taciturn +reserve. "According to Miss Chuckie, you're some rider, and according +to Mr. Knowles, you can shoot. I wouldn't mind hearing from you direct +about that shooting this morning." + +Blake recounted the affair still more briefly than he had told it to +Knowles. + +"That shore was a mighty close shave," commented the puncher. "But you +haven't said what the fellow looked like." + +"He wore ordinary range clothes," replied Blake. "I couldn't see him +behind the rocks, and caught only a glimpse of him as he went around +the ridge. His horse was much the same build and color as Rocket." + +The puncher stared at Ashton with his cold unblinking eyes. "You shore +picked out a Jim Dandy guide, Mr. Tenderfoot. According to this, it +looks mighty like he's gone and turned hawss thief. Mr. Knowles says +your Rocket hawss has vamoosed. If he's moving to Utah under your +ex-guide, it'll take some lively posse to head him. What d'you say, +Mr. Blake?" + +"I think the man is apt soon to come to the end of his rope--after +dropping through a trap door," said the engineer. + +Gowan looked at him between narrowed eyelids, and paused with upraised +coffee cup to reply: "A man that has shown the nerve this one has +won't let anyone get close enough to rope him." + +"It will be either that or a bullet, before long," predicted Blake. +"The badman is getting to be rather out of date." + +"Maybe a bullet," admitted Gowan. "Never any rope, though, for his +kind.--Guess I'll turn in. It's something of a drive over to +Stockchute and back with the wagon, and I got up early. You and Ashton +might go on watch until midnight, and turn me out for the rest of the +night." + +"Very well," agreed Blake. + +The puncher stretched out on his blankets under a tree, a few yards +from the tent. Ashton took the dishes down to sand-scour them at the +pool, while Blake saw that everything damageable was disposed safe +from the knife-like fangs of the coyotes. + +"How about keeping watch?" asked Ashton, when he returned with the +cleansed dishes. "Shall I take first or second?" + +"Neither," answered Blake. "You will need all the sleep and rest you +can get. Tomorrow may be a hard day. Turn in at once." + +"If you insist," acquiesced Ashton. "I still am rather weak and +dizzy." He went to the tent and disappeared. + +Blake took the lantern and strolled across to the wagon, to look at +the numerous articles brought by Gowan. He set the lantern over in the +wagon bed on top of what seemed to be a heap of empty oat sacks, while +he overhauled the load. It included three coils of rope of a hundred +feet each, a keg of railroad spikes, two dozen picket-pins, two heavy +hammers, a pick and shovel, and a crowbar. + +The last three articles had not been ordered by Blake. The puncher had +brought them along, apparently with a hazy idea that the descent of +the canyon would be something on the order of mining. There were also +in the wagon two five-gallon kerosene cans to use in carrying water up +the mountain, a sack of oats, Gowan's saddle, and two packsaddles. + +In shifting one of the packsaddles to get at the hammers, Blake +knocked it against the sack on which the lantern had been set. The +lantern suddenly fell over on its side. Blake reached in to pick it +up, and perceived that the sack was rising in a mound. He caught up +one of the hammers, and held it poised for a stroke. From the sack +came a muffled rattle. The hammer descended in a smashing blow. + +The sack rose and fell as if something under it was squirming about +convulsively. But to Blake's surprise it did not fall aside and +disclose that which was making the violent movement. The squirming +lessened. He grasped an outer corner of the sack and jerked it upward. +It failed to flip into the air. The lower part sagged heavily. The +squirmer was inside and--the mouth of the sack was tied fast. + +Blake looked at it thoughtfully. After some moments, he placed the +sack where it had lain at first, and upset the keg of spikes on top of +it. He then carefully examined Gowan's saddle; but it told him +nothing. He shook his head doubtfully, and returned to camp. + +Going quietly around to Gowan, he set down the lantern close before +the puncher's face and stopped to light a cigar. Gowan stirred +restlessly and rolled half over, but did not open his eyes. Blake +smoked his cigar, extinguished the lantern, and quietly stretched out +on the edge of the sleeper's blankets. In a few moments he, too, was +asleep. + +About two o'clock Gowan stirred and rolled over, pulling at his +blankets. Instantly Blake was wide awake. The puncher mumbled, drew +the blankets closer about him, and lay quiet. Blake went into the tent +and dozed on his own blankets until roused by the chill of dawn. He +went down for a plunge in the pool, and was dressed and back at the +fireplace, cooking breakfast, when Gowan started up out of his heavy +slumber. + +"Yes, it's getting along about that time," Blake called to him +cheerfully. "You might turn out Ashton. He has made as good a night of +it as you have." + +Gowan had been staring at the dawn, his lean jaw slack. As Blake +spoke, he snapped his mouth shut and came over to confront the +engineer. "You agreed to call me at midnight," he said. + +"My apology!" politely replied Blake. "I know how you must feel about +it. But I hope you will excuse me. I saw that you, like Ashton, needed +a full night's sleep, and so did not disturb you." + +The puncher looked away and muttered: "I'm responsible for you to Mr. +Knowles. He sent me here to guard you." + +"That is true. Of course you will say it's owing to no fault of mine +that we have come through the night safely. Well, we have a big day's +work before us. May I ask you to call Ashton? Breakfast is ready." + +At this the puncher sullenly went to rouse the sleeper. Ashton came +out rubbing his eyes; but after a dip in the pool, he declared himself +restored by his long sleep and ready for a day's work. During the +night his bandage had come loose. He would have tossed it away, but +Blake insisted upon re-dressing the wound. He did so with as much +skill and almost as much gentleness as had his wife. + +When Blake and Ashton left the camp, the puncher was leading the +horses across to load their first packs. The two levelmen walked +briskly up the valley, carrying only enough food and water to last +themselves until evening, when Gowan was to have the camp moved to the +top of High Mesa. + +Beginning from his bench-mark at the foot of the mountain, Blake +carried the level line slantingly up the ridge side. The work was slow +and tedious, since the telescope of the level could never be on a +horizontal line either higher or lower respectively than the top and +bottom of the thirteen-foot rod. This necessitated setting-up the +instrument every few feet during the steepest part of the ascent. + +They saw nothing of Gowan, who had chosen a more roundabout but easier +trail. At midmorning, however, they were overtaken by Genevieve and +Isobel and Thomas Herbert Vincent Leslie Blake. Knowles had started +for Stockchute to seek the aid of the sheriff and his Indian +prisoners. The ladies divided the ascent into several stages, riding +ahead of the surveyors and resting in the shade of a rock or pine +until the men had passed them. + +Near noon, when the levels had been carried up close to the top of +High Mesa, Gowan rode down to the party to inquire where the new camp +was to be pitched. + +"I've brought up a lot this trip," he stated. "I can fetch the rest by +sundown, if I don't have to meander all over the mesa with these first +packs." + +"Where did you leave the packhorses?" asked Blake. + +"Up along the canyon where Ashton shot his yearling deer," answered the +puncher. "It's about half way between that gulch where you say you're +going down and the bend across from the head of Dry Fork Gulch." + +"We'll camp there," decided Blake. "It is on the shortest trail to +that gulch, and you'll not have time to get your second load farther +before dark." + +The puncher started back. But Isobel, who had come riding up with +Genevieve, called out to stop him: "Wait, Kid. It is almost noon. You +must take lunch with us." + +"Can't leave those hawsses standing with the packs, Miss Chuckie, if +they're to make another trip today," he replied. + +"Suppose you unload them and come back along the edge of the canyon?" +suggested Blake. "We shall knock off soon and all go over to give my +wife her first look at the canyon. We can eat lunch there together." + +To this Gowan nodded a willing assent, and he jogged away, with a half +smile on his thin lips. But that which pleased him had precisely the +opposite effect on Ashton. He did not fancy sharing the companionship +and attention of Miss Knowles with the puncher. As this interference +with his happiness was due to Blake, he showed a petulant resentment +towards the engineer that won him the girl's sympathetic concern. She +attributed his fretfulness to his wound. Blake made the same mistake. + +"You've done quite enough for the morning, Ashton, with that head of +yours," he said. "We're over the worst now, and can easily run on up +to the camp this afternoon. We shall knock off for a siesta." + +"Needn't try to make out I'm a baby!" snapped Ashton. + +"Leave your rod here," went on Blake, disregarding the other's +irascibility. "I'll take the level. It may enable us to see the bottom +of the canyon." + +He started on up the slope beside his wife's pony. Ashton was somewhat +mollified when he saw Isobel linger for him to walk beside her horse. +She was carrying the baby, who, regardless of scenic attractions, had +fallen asleep during the long climb from the lower mesa. The sight of +the child clasped to her bosom awakened all that was highest in his +nature. Concern over his wound had sobered her usual gay vivacity to a +look of motherly tenderness. + +"Do you know," he murmured during a pause in their conversation, "you +make me think of pictures of the Madonna!" + +"Lafe!" she protested, blushing and as quickly paling. "You should not +say such a thing. It is lovely--a beautiful thing to tell me; but--but +I do not deserve it!" + +"Madonna!--my Madonna!" he murmured in ardent adoration. + +"Oh, please! when I've asked you not to!" she implored. "It is not +right! I--I am not!--" Tears glistened in her soft eyes. She bent over +to suppress a sob that might have awakened the sleeping infant. + +Ashton gazed up at her, wonder and contrition mingling with his +deepening adoration. "Forgive me, Miss Chuckie! But I meant it--I feel +it! I never before felt this way towards any girl!... I know I have no +right to say anything now. I am a pennyless adventurer, a disgraced, +disinherited son, a mere cowpuncher apprentice; but if, by next +spring, I shall have--" + +"Oh, see. They're getting such a long way ahead of us!" exclaimed the +girl, urging her pony to a faster gait. + +The animal started forward with a suddenness that left Ashton behind. +He made no effort to regain his position beside the girl's stirrup. +Instead, he lagged farther and farther in the rear, his face crimson +with mortification and anger. As his chagrin deepened, his flush +became almost feverish and there was a suggestion of wildness in his +flashing eyes. It was as though his passion was intensifying some +injury to his brain caused by the concussion of the bullet on his +skull. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A REAL WOLF + + +When the loiterer came over the second ridge into view of the booming +chasm in the top of the plateau, he saw the others down near the +brink. The baby had been laid on a soft bed of pine needles, and Blake +was leading the ladies down to look over into the abyss, one on each +arm. + +Ashton's chagrin flared into jealous hate. He felt certain that the +girl was quite capable of strolling along the extreme edge of the +precipice without a trace of giddiness. Yet now she was clinging to +Blake even more closely than was Genevieve. There was more than +apprehension in the clasp of her little brown hand on the engineer's +shoulder. Her cheek brushed his sleeve. + +The anger of the onlooker was so intense that he did not see Gowan +riding towards him from the left. The puncher dismounted and came +forward, his cold gaze fixed on Ashton's face. + +"So you're beginning to savvy it, too," he remarked. + +Ashton confronted him, vainly attempting to mask his telltale look +and color with a show of hauteur. "I never discuss personal matters +with acquaintances of your stamp," he said. + +"That's too bad," coolly deplored Gowan. "Maybe you've heard the +saying about cutting off your nose to spite your face." + +"What do you mean?" + +"If you want to go it alone, I can't stop you," replied the puncher. +"Needn't think I'm sucking around you for any favors or friendship. If +this was my range, I would run you off it so fast you'd reach +Stockchute with your tongue hanging out like a dog's. That's how much +I like you." + +"The feeling is fully reciprocated, I assure you," rejoined Ashton. + +"All right. Now what're we going to do about him?--each play a lone +hand, or make it pardners for this deal?" + +"I--fail to understand," hesitated Ashton. + +"No, you don't," jeeringly contradicted the puncher. "It's a +three-cornered fight. You see it now, even if you have been too big a +fool to see it before. We can settle ours after. But I'm free to own +up to it that you're a striped skunk if you won't work with me first +to get rid of him. Look at him now--and him married!" + +Ashton's flush deepened to purple. "Married!--yes, married!" he choked +out. + +"Right alongside his wife, too!" Gowan thrust the goad deeper. "You'd +think even that brand of skunk would have more decency. Not that his +wife is any friend of mine, like she is yours. But for a man with such +a wife and baby ... with Miss Chuckie! The--" + +Gowan ended with a string of oaths so virulent that even Ashton's +half-mad anger was checked. + +"You may be--er--I fear that we--Perhaps it's not so bad as it +appears!" he stammered. + +"_Bah!_" disgustedly sneered the puncher, and he strode on ahead, +leaving Ashton torn between rage and doubt and terror of his own +furious jealousy. + +The others continued to stand on a flat ledge that here formed the lip +of the canyon. Genevieve was trembling with awed delight. Her husband +and the girl appeared more calm, but they were drinking in the +grandeur of the tremendous gorge below them with no less intense +appreciation of its gloomy vastness. + +Upstream, to their left, the precipices jutted so far out from each +wall of the canyon that they overlapped, a thousand or fifteen hundred +feet from the top. But downstream the upper part of the chasm flared +to a width that permitted the noonday sun to penetrate part way down +through the blue-black shadows. + +"O-o-o-oh!" sighed Genevieve, for the tenth time, and she clung +tighter than ever to the strong arm of her husband. "Isn't it +fearfully, fearfully delightful? It makes the soles of my feet tingle +to look at it!" + +"That tickly feeling!" exclaimed Isobel. "I often ride up here to the +canyon, I do so love to feel that way! Only with me it's like ants +crawling up and down my back." + +"O-o-o-oh!" again sighed Genevieve. "It--it so overpowers one!" + +"It's sure some canyon," admitted her husband. "That French artist Dore +ought to have seen it." + +"If only we had a copy of Dante's Inferno to read here on the brink!" +she whispered. + +"It always reminds me of Coleridge's poem," murmured Isobel, and she +quoted in an awed whisper: + + Where Alph, the sacred river, ran + Through caverns measureless to man, + Down to the sunless sea. + +"Fortunately for us, this is a canyon, not a string of measureless +caverns," said Blake. "It can be measured, one way or another. If I +had a transit, I could calculate the depth at any point where the +water shows--triangulate with a vertical angle. But it would cause a +long delay to send on for a transit. We shall first try to chain down +at that gulch break." + +Genevieve shrank back from the verge of the precipice and drew the +others after her. + +"Dear!" she exclaimed, "I did not dream it was so fearful. One has to +see to realize! You will not go down--promise me you will not go +down!" + +"Now, now, little woman," reproached Blake. "What's become of my +partner?" + +"But baby--? If you should leave him fatherless!" + +"Better that than for him to have a father who is a quitter! Just +wait, Sweetheart. That break looks much less overwhelming than these +sheer cliffs. You know I shall not attempt anything foolhardy. If it +is not possible to get down without too great risk, I shall give it up +and send for a transit." + +"Oh, will you?" exclaimed Isobel, hardly less apprehensive than his +wife. "Why not wait anyway until you can send for your transit?" + +"Because I cannot triangulate the bottom within half a mile upstream +from where the tunnel would have to be located. That roar and the +wildness of the water wherever we can see it is proof that it is +flowing down a heavy grade. At the point where I triangulated it might +be above the level of Dry Mesa, and way below the mesa here at the +tunnel site." + +"You could triangulate at the first place where the bottom can be +seen, beyond here," suggested Genevieve. + +"Suppose it proved to be lower than Dry Mesa, wouldn't that still +leave us up in the air?" he asked. "Like this--" + +He pulled out his notebook and drew a rough sketch. + +[Transcriber's Note: an illustration showing "Elevation of bench-mark +at foot of chute in Dry Fork Gulch" appears in the text here.] + +"I see, Dear," said his wife. "When do you plan to go down?" + +"Tomorrow morning." + +"Can you wait until we come up from the ranch?" + +"Yes. Mr. Knowles will no doubt be back by then. He can bring you out +early." + +"We shall come early, anyway," said Isobel. + +"Of course!" added Genevieve. She drew a deep breath. "I shall see the +place before you attempt to descend." + +Her husband nodded reassuringly and looked around to where Gowan and +Ashton stood waiting, several yards from one another. + +"About lunch time, isn't it?" he remarked. "Mr. Gowan will wish to be +starting soon to bring up his second load." + +At the suggestion, the ladies hastened to spread out their own lunch +and the one brought by Blake. When called by Isobel, Gowan came +forward to join the party, with rather less than his usual reserve in +his speech and manner. + +Ashton was the last to seat himself on the springy cushion of brown +pine needles, and he sat throughout the meal in moody silence. Blake +and the ladies attributed this to the fatigue of working through the +long hot morning while suffering from his unhealed wound. He repulsed +the sympathetic attentions of the Blakes. But he could not long +continue to resist the kindly concern of the girl. After lunch she +made him lie down in the shade while she bathed his wound with a good +part of the small supply of water remaining in the canteens. + +Gowan had been asking questions about the work. Blake explained at +some length why he considered it necessary not only to descend into +the canyon but to carry the line of levels down along the bed of the +subterranean stream to this point opposite Dry Fork Gulch. When Isobel +drew apart with Ashton the puncher did not look at them, though his +eyes narrowed to slits and his mouth straightened. + +"You shore have nerve to tackle it, Mr. Blake," he commented. +"Everything alive that I know of that's ever gone down into Deep Canyon +hasn't ever come up again, except it had wings." + +"We'll prove that the rule has an exception," replied Blake, smiling +away the reawakened apprehension of his wife. + +Gowan shook his head doubtfully, and strolled down the slope to peer +into the canyon. The level was directly in his path, set up firmly on +its tripod, about six feet from the brink. The puncher stopped beside +it to squint through the telescope. + +"You'll have one--peach of a time seeing anything through this +contraption down there," he remarked. "I can't see even right here in +the sun." + +"The telescope is out of focus," explained Blake. "Turn that screw on +the side." Gowan twisted a protruding thumbscrew. "Not that--the one +above it," directed Blake. + +"Can't stop to fool now," replied the puncher. "I've got to hustle +along." + +He started hastily around between the level and the precipice. The toe +of his boot struck hard against the iron toe of the outer tripod-leg. +He stumbled and sprawled forward on his hands and knees. Behind him +the instrument toppled over towards the brink. + +Genevieve cried out in alarm at Gowan's fall. Her husband sprang to +the rescue--not of the puncher, but of the level. It had crashed down +with its head to the chasm, and was sliding out over the brink. Blake +barely caught it by the tip of one of the legs as it swung up for the +plunge. He drew it back and set it up to see what damage had been done +to the head. Gowan watched him, tight-lipped. + +"This is luck!" exclaimed the engineer, after a swift examination. +"Nothing broken--only knocked out of adjustment. I can fix that in +half an hour. She struck with the telescope turned sideways. You must +have set the clamp screw." + +The puncher's face darkened. "Wish the--infernal machine had gone +plumb down to hell!" he growled. "It came near tripping me over the +edge." + +"My apology," said Blake. "I spraddled the tripod purposely to keep it +from being upset." + +"Oh, Kid, you've hurt yourself," called Isobel, as the puncher began +to wrap a kerchief about his hand. "Come here and let me bandage it." + +"No," he replied. "Two babies are enough for you to coddle at one +time. I've got to hit out." + +He turned his back on Blake and hurried up to his horse. The engineer +followed as far as the nearest tree, where he set up the instrument in +the shade and began to adjust it. + +"Good thing she has platinum crosshairs," he said to Ashton. "A fall +like that would have been certain to break the old-style spiderweb +hairs." + +Ashton did not reply. He was absorbed in a murmured conversation with +Isobel. Blake completed the adjustments of the level and stretched out +beside his wife to play with his gurgling son. A half hour of this +completed the two hours that he had set apart for the noon rest. He +placed the baby back in his wife's lap and stood up to stretch his +powerful frame. + +"How about it, Ashton?" he inquired. "Think you feel fit to rod this +afternoon? Don't hesitate to say no, if that's the right answer. I +expect my wife and Miss Chuckie, between them, can help me carry the +line as far as the camp." + +"I can do it alone," interposed the girl. "Let them both stay here and +rest all afternoon." + +"No, Miss Chuckie. I can and shall do my work," insisted Ashton, +springing up with unexpected briskness for one who had appeared so +fatigued. "It is you and Mrs. Blake who must stay here to rest--unless +you wish to keep us company." + +"Might we not go to the new camp and put it in order?" suggested +Genevieve. + +"What if that outlaw should come sneaking back?" objected Ashton. "It +seems to me you should keep with us." + +"He would not trouble us," replied Isobel. + +"Yet if he should? Anyway, Blake and I saw a wolf up here the other +day." + +"A real wolf! Where?" + +"Yes," answered Blake. "Over in the ravine the other side of the head +of Dry Fork Gulch." + +"He may attack you," argued Ashton. + +The girl laughed. "You're still a tenderfoot to think a wolf wouldn't +know better than that. Wish he didn't! It would mean the saving of a +half dozen calves this winter." She flashed out her long-barreled +automatic pistol and knocked a cone from the tree above Blake's head +with a swiftly aimed shot. + +Blake caught the cone as it fell and looked at the bullet hole through +its center. "Unless that was an accident, I should call it some +shooting," he remarked. + +"Accident!" she called back. "Stand sideways and see what happens to +your cigar." + +"No, thanks. I'll take your word for it. Just lit this one, and I've +only a few left. By by, Tommy! Don't let the wolves eat mamma and the +poor little cowlady!" + +He picked up the level and started off at a swinging stride. Ashton +followed several paces behind. His face was sullen and heavy, but in +their merriment over Blake's banter, the ladies failed to observe his +expression. + +They rested for a while longer. Then, after venturing down for another +awed look into the abyss, they rode along, parallel with the +stupendous rift, to the place selected for the new camp. As Gowan had +brought up the tent in one of the first packs, the ladies pitched it +on the level top of the ridge. + +"This is real camping!" delightedly exclaimed Genevieve, as they set +to gathering leafy twigs for bedding and dry branches for fuel. "How I +wish we could stay all night!" + +"We can, if you wish," replied Isobel. + +"Can we, really?" + +"Our men often sleep out in the open, this time of year. We shall take +the tent for ourselves. Won't it be fun! But will Thomas be all +right?" + +"I can manage with what I have until tomorrow afternoon." + +"How long do you think they will be down in the canyon?" the girl +inquired. + +Genevieve shuddered. "I wish I could tell! If only Tom finds that he +cannot get down at all, how thankful I shall be!" + +"And--Lafe!" murmured the girl. + +"It is possible that they may be unable to do it in one day," went on +Genevieve apprehensively--"Down, down into those dreadful depths, and +then along the river, all the way to where the tunnel is to be, and +back again, and then up the awful cliffs! Surely they cannot finish in +one day! Of course they will succeed--Tom can do anything, _anything_! +Yet how I dread the very thought--!" + +"We must prepare to stay right here on High Mesa until they do +finish!" declared Isobel. "It will be impossible to go back to the +ranch tomorrow if they are still in that frightful place! Kid will +have to take the hawsses down to the waterhole. He shall go on home, +and tomorrow morning fetch us cream and eggs and everything you need. +They will have to be told at the ranch; and if Daddy has returned, he +will come up to help and be with us." + +"You dear girl! The more I think of this terrible descent, the more I +dread it. I feel a presentiment that--But I must try to be brave and +not interfere with Tom's work! It will be a great comfort to have your +father with us." + +"Daddy will surely come if he has returned. Isn't he kind and good? He +couldn't have done more to make me happy if he had been my own real +father!" + +Genevieve smiled into the girl's glowing face. "Yes, dear. Yet I am +far from surprised, since _you_ are the daughter he wished to make +happy. I was more surprised to have him tell me you were adopted. You +have never said a word about it." + +"I--you see, I did not happen to," confusedly murmured the girl. + +"Chuckie Knowles is not your real name," Genevieve gently reproached +her. + +"No, it is the pet name Daddy gave me. My real one is--Isobel." + +"Isobel--?" + +"Yes. Daddy's sister, in Denver, always calls me that. But here on the +ranch--" + +"Isobel--?" repeated Genevieve, with a rising inflection. + +The color ebbed from the girl's face, but she answered steadily: +"Chuckie--Isobel--Knowles. I am Daddy's daughter. I have no other +father." + +"Is-o-bel--Is-o-bel," Genevieve intoned the name musically. "It has a +beautiful sound. I had a friend at school--Isabella--but we always +called her Belle." + +The girl suddenly faced away from her companion, and darted to meet +Blake and Ashton, who were bringing the line of levels up over the +ridge. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE TEMPTATION + + +When the ladies explained their plans for remaining in camp on High +Mesa, Blake gave a ready assent. + +"All right, Jenny. It'll be something like old times. Can't scare you +up any lions or fever, leopards or cyclones; but you may see that +wolf." + +"I should welcome all savage Africa if it would rid us of this awful +canyon!" replied his wife. + +"Won't you please give it up?" begged Isobel. "I am to blame for your +coming here. If anything should happen to you, I--I could never +forgive myself--never!" + +Blake looked at the two lovely, anxious faces before him, and smiled +gravely. "There you go again, and you have yet to see that gulch. But +even if you find that it looks dangerous, you wouldn't want me to let +a little risk interfere with my work, would you? Think of the fools +who climb the highest and steepest mountains just for sport. I am +going down there because it is necessary." + +"But is it?" the girl half sobbed. + +"Someone must do it, sooner or later," he replied, and he took his +wife's hand in his big palm. "Come, little woman, speak up. Do you +want your husband to be a shirker and quitter?" + +"Of course not, Tom. Yet one should be reasonable." + +"I have had enough experience in climbing to know not to attempt the +impossible, Sweetheart," he assured her. "The worst looking places are +not always the most dangerous. I promise you to take only reasonable +risks." + +"Have we time enough to look at the place this afternoon?" she +inquired. + +Blake glanced at the sun, and nodded. "The riding is good. We can get +back long before dark. Ashton, you had better stretch out and rest." + +"No, I shall go with you," replied Ashton, his lips set in as firm +lines as Blake's. + +"You cannot go, Lafe, unless you agree to ride my pony," said Isobel. + +"I'm not going to have Gowan call me a baby again," he objected. + +"You will need all your strength tomorrow," predicted Blake. + +"You must ride," insisted Isobel. + +"Very well--to please you," he agreed. "We shall take turns." + +Blake again looked at the sun. "As long as we are going, we may as +well carry forward the line of levels. We can take long turns nearly +all the way, so there will be little delay." + +"And I shall rod for you!" delightedly exclaimed Isobel. + +"Only part of the time," qualified Ashton with a sharpness that the +others attributed to his zeal to serve her. + +He filled his canteen from one of the cans of water brought up by +Gowan, and rinsed out the mouths and nostrils of the thirsty ponies. +This done, he and Genevieve mounted, and the party started off on a +route parallel with the canyon, which here trended back away from the +edge of the plateau. + +They soon came to where the surface of the mesa was slashed with +gulleys and ravines, all running down into the canyon. Blake swung away +from the canyon, in order to head the worst of these ravines or to +cross them where they were less precipitous. Presently, however, he +struck in again towards the great rift along the flank of a high +barren ridge. At last he led over the ridge and down to the side of a +very large ravine where it pitched into the canyon at an angle little +less steep than the descent of Dry Fork Gulch. + +The line of levels, as Blake had foretold, had been an easy one to +run. It was stopped on the corner of a shelf of rock that jutted out +above the gorge. Having provided a soft nest for the baby, the four +went out on the shelf and peered down the dizzy slope into the black +shadows of the depths. + +The two ladies drew back shuddering. Blake looked about at them and +seeing their troubled faces, sought to quiet their dread. + +"You have not looked close enough," he said. "With spikes and ropes, +the worst of this will be comparatively easy. There are ledges and +crevices all the way down. You cannot see the lower half. When I was +here with Gowan and Mr. Knowles, the sun was shining to the bottom. +The lower half of the descent is much less steep than this you see." + +Genevieve smiled trustfully. "Oh, if you say it is safe, Tom!" + +"We shall take down the rope and all the spikes we can carry," he +explained in further reassurance. "At the worst places a spike and a +piece of the rope will not only let us down safely, but can be left +for our ascent." + +"Then it will be all right!" sighed Isobel. + +"For him--yes!" broke in Ashton, his voice harsh and strained. He was +cringing back, white-faced, from the edge of the gulch. + +"Why, Lafe!" exclaimed the girl. "If Tom--Mr. Blake goes down, surely +you can't mean that you--" + +"He's used to climbing--I'm not!" Ashton sought to excuse himself. + +"Oh, very well," she said. "Of course it is not right to ask you to do +it if you suffer from vertigo. I shall ask Kid to take your place. If +he refuses, Daddy will do it." + +"That may mean delay," remarked Blake. "If that scoundrel really is +headed for Utah, your father may not be back for several days. Yet he +asked me to settle this matter as soon as possible." + +"Then, if Kid will not go down with you, I shall," declared the girl, +her blue eyes flashing. + +"No, no indeed, dear!" protested Genevieve. "It is simply impossible! +You shall not do it!" + +"I shall, unless Kid--" + +"You shall not ask him!" interposed Ashton, his pale face suddenly +flushing a hot red. "I am going down!" + +"You will, Lafayette?" cried Genevieve. "That is very brave and--and +kind of you!" + +"But if you have no experience in climbing?" objected Isobel in a tone +that transmuted the young man's angry flush into a glow of delight. + +"Don't inexperienced climbers go up the Alps with guides?" he +nonchalantly replied. "I can trust Blake to get me safe to the bottom. +He will need me in his business." + +"Good for you, Lafe!" commended Blake. + +It was the first time that he had ever addressed Ashton so familiarly. +He accompanied it with the proffer of his hand. But Ashton did not +look at him. He was basking in the frankly admiring gaze of Miss +Knowles. + +The party returned in the same manner that they had come out, for +Isobel firmly refused to permit Ashton to walk. Blake allowed her to +set the pace, and she chose such a rapid one that they reached camp a +full half hour before sunset. + +A few minutes later, as they were sitting down to a hastily prepared +supper, Gowan appeared with the second load from the lower camp. Blake +and Ashton sprang up to loosen the packs of the sweating, panting +horses. The puncher swung down from his saddle, not to assist them, +but to remonstrate with Isobel. + +"Been expecting to meet you, all the way up, Miss Chuckie," he said. +"Ain't you staying too late? You won't get home before long after +dark." + +"Mrs. Blake and I are not going down tonight, Kid," replied the girl, +and she explained the change of plans. + +Gowan listened attentively, though without commenting either by look +or word. When she had quite finished, he asked a single question: +"Think your Daddy won't mind, Miss Chuckie?" + +"He will understand that we simply can't leave here until Lafe +and--Mr. Blake are safe up out of the canyon." + +"All right. You're the boss," he acquiesced. "Just write out a list +of what you want. I'll take all the hawsses down to the waterhole, and +go on to the ranch. You can look for me back at sunup. The moon rises +between three and four." + +"Genevieve, will you make out the list? Sit down and eat, Kid." + +"Well, just a snack, Miss Chuckie. Wouldn't stop for that if the +hawsses didn't know the trail well enough to go down in the dark." + +"Have you seen any sign of the murderer?" inquired Ashton. + +Gowan drained the cup of scalding hot coffee handed to him by Isobel, +and answered jeeringly: "Don't worry, Tenderfoot. He won't try to get +you tonight. If he came back today, he saw me around. If he comes back +tonight, he won't think of climbing High Mesa to look for you." + +Blake came to the puncher with a list written by himself and his wife +on a leaf from his fieldbook. Gowan folded it in his hatband, washed +down the last mouthful of bread and ham that he had been bolting, and +went to shift his saddle to Isobel's pony, the youngest and freshest +of the horses. In two minutes he was riding away down the ridge, +willingly followed by the four other horses. They knew as well as he +that they were returning to the waterhole. + +As the campers again sat down to their supper Isobel paused with the +coffeepot upraised. "Genevieve," she inquired, "did you put cream on +the list?" + +"Why, no, my dear. It did not occur to me." + +"Nor may it to Yuki. He will be sure to send eggs and butter, but +unless he thinks to save tonight's cream--I'll run and tell Kid." + +Ashton sprang up ahead of her. "I'll catch him," he said, and sprinted +down the ridge. + +Racing around a thicket of scrub oak, he caught sight of Gowan more +than an eighth of a mile ahead. He whistled repeatedly. At last Gowan +twisted about in the saddle, and drew rein. He did not turn back, but +made Ashton come all the way to him. + +"Well, what's wanted?" he demanded. + +"Cream," panted Ashton. "Miss Chuckie says--tell Yuki." + +"Shore pop, I'll bring all there is," replied Gowan. Ashton started +back. "Hold on," said the puncher. "I want to say something to you, +and here's the chance." + +"What is it?" + +"About him. I want you to keep a mighty close watch tonight." + +"But you said that the murderer would not--" + +"_Bah!_ What does he count in this deal? It's this engineer. I've been +chewing it over all afternoon. Miss Chuckie is as innocent and +trusting as a lamb, spite of her winterings in Denver, and she's +plumb locoed over him, reading so much about him in the reports." + +"Still, it does not necessarily follow--" + +"Don't it, though!" broke in the puncher. "Guess you didn't find it +any funnier than I did seeing her hanging onto his shoulder." + +"Curse him!" cried Ashton, his jealousy flaring at the remembrance. + +"Now you're talking!" approved Gowan. "That shows you like her like I +do. You're not going to stand for her losing her fortune." + +"Her fortune?" + +"By his flooding us off our range." + +"Ah--as for that, I have been thinking it over. She told me Mr. +Knowles owns five sections. If water is put on them--Western Colorado +fruit lands are very valuable, you know." + +"That's a lie. Water can't make five sections worth a range +like ours. But supposing it could--" the puncher leaned towards +Ashton, his eyes glaring with the cold malignancy of a striking +rattlesnake's--"supposing it could, how about us letting her +lose her good name?" + +"Good God!" gasped Ashton. "It can't come to that!" + +"Can't it? can't it? Where's your eyes? And him a married man! The--" +Gowan cursed horribly. + +"You really believe it!" cried Ashton, convinced by the other's +outburst. + +"Believe it? I know it!" declared Gowan. "If you thought half as much +of her as I do--" + +"I do!--not half, but a hundred times more!" + +"Yes, you do?" + +"I swear it! I'd do anything for her!" + +"Except save her from him." + +"No, no! How can I? Tell me how!" + +The puncher bent nearer to the half-frenzied man. "You're going down +that gulch with him. Suppose a spike gets knocked out or a rope breaks +or a loose rock gets pushed over?" + +"God!" cried Ashton, putting his hands over his eyes. "That would be +murder!" + +"_Bah!_ You'd make a dog sick! Willing to do anything for her--except +save her from him! And nothing to it but just an accident that's just +as like as not to happen anyway." + +"But--murder!" shudderingly muttered Ashton. + +"Murder a skunk," sneered Gowan. "If saving her from him isn't a case +of justifiable homicide, what is? Don't you get the idea? Just a +likely accident, down there where nobody can see." + +Ashton dropped his hands, half clenched, to his sides. Beads of cold +sweat were gathering and running down his drawn face. + +"I can't!" he whispered. "I--I can't!" + +"Not if I agree to get out of the way and give you clear running?" +tempted Gowan. + +"You would?" + +"Yes. You see how much I like her. You rid her of him, and I'll let +you have her for doing it." + +Ashton shuddered. + +"Think it over--and watch him mighty close tonight," advised the +tempter. + +A red flush leaped into Ashton's face. Gowan struck his spurs into his +horse's flank and loped away. + +Ashton stood motionless. The puncher disappeared down the mountain +side. The twilight faded and darkness closed down about the tortured +man. He stood there motionless, his convulsed face alternately +flushing and paling, his eyes now clouding, now burning with rage and +hate. + +When at last he returned to the camp he kept beyond the circle of +firelight. Hurriedly he rolled up in his blankets for the night, +muttering something about his head and his need of rest for the next +day's work. The others accepted the explanation without question. They +formed a cheerful domestic group about the fire from which he was shut +out by his passion. + +The ladies withdrew into the tent at an early hour. Blake strolled +around the camp until after nine o'clock, but finally came with his +blankets and companionably rolled up near Ashton. He was soon fast +asleep. But Ashton lay tossing until after midnight. Weariness at +last weighed down the lids of his hot eyes and numbed his tortured +brain. He sank into a feverish sleep haunted with evil dreams. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +BLIND LOVE + + +At sunrise the harassed dreamer awoke to find Gowan gazing down at him +somberly. + +"You--you here?" he exclaimed, starting up on his elbow. "What is--" He +checked himself and muttered brokenly, "I've been dreaming--horrible +nightmares." + +"He's down there overhauling his outfit," said Gowan. "Hope you've +thought the matter over." + +"My answer must be the same. I cannot do it, I cannot!" replied +Ashton. He spoke hurriedly, as if afraid to linger on the thought. + +"You can't--not to save her and have me give her to you?" asked +Gowan. + +Ashton clenched his hands and bent over in an agony of doubt and +indecision. + +"You devil!" he groaned. + +"What! Because I'm willing to give her up, in order to see her +saved?" + +"Why don't you shoot him, if you're so anxious?" queried Ashton. + +"And hang for it," retorted the puncher. "You can do it with an +accident, and no risk. Anyway, that'll make things easier for his +wife--to have him meet a natural death. Won't be anything said about +why he was taken off. She hasn't begun to suspect what's going on +between him and--" + +Gowan paused, looked at the tent, and concluded: "I've done my part. I +won't say any more. But just you remember what I've told you. You +won't run any risk. Mr. Knowles hasn't come back yet. There'll be only +them and me along, and we won't be able to see you do it. Just +remember what it will mean to her--just remember that--when you get +him where a shove or a loosened spike--Savvy?" + +He went to loosen the diamond hitch of the packs that he had brought +with him from the ranch. Ashton sank back and lay brooding until the +girl came from the tent and called to inquire how he felt. Too +wretched to care about his appearance, he rose and went over to her. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed at sight of his haggard face. "You are ill!" + +"Only an attack of indigestion and loss of sleep--something I often +have," he lied. "A cup of coffee will set me up. Don't worry. I'm +strong--head doesn't bother me at all this morning, except a numb +feeling inside." + +"I shall dress the wound at once, while the coffee is boiling," she +replied. + +He would have objected. She silenced him with a look that acted on his +chafed spirit like oil upon a burn. Her kind, almost tender voice and +the soft touch of her fingers on his head soothed his anguish and +seemed to counteract the poison instilled by Gowan. He began to doubt +the puncher and the witness of his own eyes. + +When Blake and his wife came to breakfast, Ashton was so cheerful that +they hardly noticed the traces of haggardness that yet lingered in his +face. Blake at once centered the attention of all by explaining his +plans for the exploration of the canyon. In addition to the surveyor's +chain, a hammer, and the rope and spikes,--which were to be used only +in making the descent,--he and Ashton were to carry the level and rod +and a quantity of food. At the suggestion of Isobel, he agreed to take +her father's revolver and fire it at intervals, on the chance that the +watchers above might see the flash of the shots and so be able to +follow the progress of the explorers down in the depths. + +Genevieve quickly thought out signals to be given in response. If at +night, a torch was to be cast down into the chasm; if in the daytime, +a white flag, made of a sheet sent by Yuki, was to be waved out over +the brink. As the explorers might become confused in the gloom of the +canyon bottom, the point of the bend opposite Dry Fork Gulch was to be +marked by a beacon fire built on the verge of the canyon wall. + +Blake had already arranged everything that he and Ashton were to take +down with them. Immediately after breakfast the outfit was fastened on +the packhorses, together with food, water and blankets for those who +were to remain on the heights. The ladies were determined to keep +above the explorers at all points where the rim of the canyon could be +approached. Gowan was to fetch and carry for them and take the horses +down to the pool for water at night. + +Within half an hour after breakfast the party was jogging away from +camp, fully equipped for the great undertaking. Gowan was afoot. His +horse, as well as the regular pack animals, was heavily loaded with +stores. He walked with Isobel, who had insisted that Ashton should +ride her pony. Blake strode along at his wife's stirrup, carrying his +son in a clasp as tender as it was strong. + +The engineer was the only cheerful member of the party. Even Thomas +Herbert, that best tempered of babies, was peevish and fretful. He was +instinctively reflexing the suppressed nervousness and anxiety of his +mother. Gowan and Ashton were as gloomy in look and speech as the +shadowy depths of the canyon. Isobel bravely sought to respond to +Blake's confidence in the favorable outcome of the survey; but her +smile, like Genevieve's, was forced and her eyes were troubled. + +They reached the point of attack as the rays of the morning sun were +beginning to strike down into the side gorge. This was as Blake had +planned. He at once began to direct the preparations for the descent, +himself doing the lion's share of the work. + +A long detour to a point higher up the ravine offered an easy descent +of its bottom to the place where it pitched steeply into the canyon. +Blake preferred to take a short cut down the almost vertical side of +the gulch. The three pieces of rope, each a hundred feet long, were +knotted together and used to lower a grass-padded package containing +all the equipment of the explorers except the level. The bundle was +lodged on a broad shelf of rock, over two hundred and fifty feet +down. + +"Our first measurement," remarked Blake, as he subtracted from three +hundred feet the length of the line left above the edge of the cliff. +He jotted down the remainder in his notebook, and nodded to Ashton, +who, with Gowan and Isobel, was holding the end of the rope. "You see +why I had Mr. Gowan bring gloves and chaps and your leggins. We will +make the line fast around that rock, and follow our outfit." + +Ashton stared, slack jawed. "Really, you cannot mean--?" + +"Yes. Why not?" asked Blake. "There's nothing to a slide like this +except the look of it." + +"Oh, Tom!" breathlessly cried Genevieve. "Are you sure--quite sure!" + +"Sure I'm sure, little woman," he replied. "There's not the slightest +danger. This is a new manila rope, and the package, with all those +spikes in it, weighs as much as I do. That gives us a sure test." + +"I might have known!" she sighed her relief. + +"Still it does look a bit stiff for a start-off," he admitted. "If +Lafe prefers, he can go around and come down the ravine bed. I shall +slide the line and be getting the outfit in shape for shooting the +chutes." + +"How about the rope?" asked Isobel. + +"You are to drop it to me as soon as I get down and stand from under," +directed Blake. He examined with minute care the loop and knot with +which Gowan and Isobel had made the rope fast around the point of +rock. Having satisfied himself that the knot was perfectly secure, he +turned to his wife and opened his arms. "Now, Sweetheart! Wish us good +luck and a quick journey!" + +Gowan and Ashton drew back and looked away as Genevieve flung herself +on her husband's broad chest, unable to restrain her tears. + +"Now, now, little woman," he soothed, patting her shoulder. "There's +nothing to be afraid of, and you know it." + +"If--if only we could see you down there!" she sobbed. + +"You will, part of the time, with your glasses. And you'll be sure to +see the flash of some of my shots. That's all that I'm worrying +about--you'll be skirting along the canyon rim. Promise me you'll not +go near the edge except where the footing is perfectly safe." + +"Yes, Dear. I shall have Thomas to remind me to be careful. But you?" + +"I shall have the thought of you both to keep me from being rash. +Remember that." + +"You will not be rash, I know," she answered, smiling up at him +bravely. "You will go and come back to us soon. Now kiss me and +Thomas. I shall not detain you from your work." + +"Spoken like my partner," he quietly praised her. + +Both by tone and manner he was plainly seeking to ease the parting to +the calmness of an ordinary farewell. His wife responded to this, +outwardly at least. Not so Isobel. From the moment he had turned to +Genevieve, the girl had betrayed a rapidly increasing agitation. + +He went to kiss his baby, who had fallen asleep during the last half +mile of the trip and lay sprawled in the shade of a bowlder. As he +came back, Genevieve lingered beside the child, as if half fearful of +watching her husband begin his dizzy descent of the rope. + +Isobel was standing close to the verge, her bosom heaving with +quick-drawn breaths, her excited face flushing and paling in rapid +alternation. Blake had pulled on his left glove, but had kept his +right hand bare for her. As he held it out he looked up from the taut +rope at his feet and saw her excessively agitated face. + +[Illustration: "You have something to tell me--your voice--your eyes--"] + +"Why, Miss Chuckie!" he remonstrated, "you're not going to break down +now. You see how Jenny takes it. There's nothing to fear." + +"Oh, but, Tom!" she panted, "you--you don't understand! you don't +know! It's not merely the danger! It's the dreadful thought that if +you--if you should not--come back--and I hadn't told you!" + +"Told me?" he echoed in hushed wonderment as her anguished soul looked +out at him through her wide eyes and he sensed the first vague +foreshadowing of the truth. "You have something to tell me--your +voice!--your eyes!--" + +"You see it! You know me!" she gasped, and she flung herself into his +arms. Straining herself to him in half frantic ecstasy, she murmured +in a broken whisper: "Yes! I am--am Belle! It is wicked and selfish to +tell you; but to have you go down there without first--I could not +bear it! Yet I--I shall not drag you down--disgrace you. Never that! +I'll go away!... Oh, Tom! dear Tom!" + +He had stood dumfounded by the revelation of her identity. At first he +could not speak; hardly could he think. His eyes stared into hers with +a dazed look. But before she could finish her impassioned declaration +of self-abnegation he roused from his bewilderment, and his great +arms closed about her quivering body. He crushed her to him and +pressed his lips upon her white forehead. + +"Belle!--poor little Belle!... But why? Tell me why? All this time, +and you never showed by a single word or look!" + +"I did!" she sought to defend herself from the tender reproach. "I +did, but I--I was afraid to tell." + +"Afraid?" + +The girl's face flamed scarlet with shame. She sought to draw away +from him. "Let me go, Tom! oh, please, let me go! I am a selfish, +wicked girl! I have done it! I have done it! Now there is no help for +it! She must be told--all!" + +"All?" he questioned. + +"Yes, all, Tom! I cannot deny Mary! She saved me! I believe she is in +Heaven. She could not help doing what she did. She could not help it, +Tom--and she saved me! I must give you up--go away; but I can never, +never deny my sister!" + +Blake swung half around with the quivering girl, and looked over her +downbent head at his wife. Genevieve stood almost within arm's-length +of them. He met her gaze, and immediately pushed the girl out towards +her. + +"Listen, Belle," he said. "It is all right. Here is Jenny waiting for +you. She understands." + +Gowan, watching rigid and tense-lipped, with his hand clenched on the +hilt of his half-drawn Colt's, was astonished to see Mrs. Blake step +forward and clasp Isobel in her arms. But Ashton did not see the +strange act that checked the puncher's vengeful shot. While the girl +was yet clinging to Blake, he had turned and fled along the edge of +the ravine, for the moment stark mad with rage and despair. + +He rushed off without a cry, and the others were themselves far too +surcharged with emotion to heed his going until he had disappeared +around a turn in the ravine. When at last, almost spent with exertion, +he staggered up a ridge to glare back at those from whom he had fled, +his bloodshot eyes could perceive only three figures on the brink of +the gorge. They were kneeling to look over into the ravine. + +His thoughts were still in a wild whirl, but the heat of his mad rage +had passed and left him in a cold fury. He instantly comprehended that +Blake had swung over the edge and was descending the rope down the +almost sheer face of the ravine wall. + +Now was the time! A touch of a knife-edge to the rope, and the girl +would be saved. Would Gowan think of it?... Of course he would +think of it. But he would not do it. He would leave the deed to be +done by the man to whom he had relinquished Miss Chuckie. It was +for that man to save her--to destroy the tempter and break the +spell of fascination that was drawing her over the brink of a pit +far deeper than any earthly canyon. He, Lafayette Ashton--not +Gowan--was the man. He must save her--down there in the depths, where +no eye could see. + +[Transcriber's Note: Map of High Mesa and Dry Mesa with place of +descent and other landmarks shown appears here.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE DESCENT INTO HELL + + +Dangling like a spider on its thread, with a twist of the rope +around one of his legs, Blake had gone down into the ravine, hand +under hand, with the agility of a sailor. The tough leather of his +chapareras prevented the rope from chafing the leg around which it +slipped, and he managed with his free foot to fend himself off from +the sharp-cornered ledges of the cliff side. In this he was less +concerned for himself than for his level, which he carried in a sling, +high up between his shoulders. + +He was soon safe at the lower end of the rope, on the shelf beside the +bundled outfit. He waved his hat to the down-peering watchers, and +climbed a few yards up the ravine, to creep in under an overhanging +rock. A few moments later the loosened rope came sliding down the +steep descent, the last length whipping from ledge to ledge with a +velocity that made it hiss through the air. + +Blake was not disturbed by this proof of the cumulative speed of +falling bodies. He came down and coolly set about his preparations for +the descent of the gorge bottom. He unlashed the bundle and divided +its contents. This done, he took a vertical measurement by going out +towards the canyon along a horizontal shelf on the side wall of the +gorge, until he could drop his surveying chain down the sheer +precipice to a shelf almost a hundred feet below him. + +Unaware of Ashton's mistake and furious flight, the engineer was +proceeding with his work in the expectation that he would soon be +joined by his assistant. He was not disappointed. As he returned along +the shelf, after entering the measurement in his notebook, Ashton came +bounding and scrambling down the ravine bottom at reckless speed. He +fetched up on the verge of the break, purple-faced and panting. His +mouth twitched nervously and there was a wild look in his dark eyes. +But Blake attributed all to the excitement and exertion of the +headlong rush down the ravine. + +"No need for you to have hurried so, Lafe," he said. "I suppose you +had to go farther around than I thought would be necessary. But I'd +rather you had kept me waiting an hour than for you to have chanced +spraining an ankle." + +"Yes, you need me in your business!" scoffed Ashton. + +"Your employer's business," rejoined the engineer. He straightened up +from the packs that he was lashing together and gazed gravely at his +scowling assistant. "See here, Mr. Ashton, this is no time for you to +raise a row. We shall have quite enough else to think about from now +on, until we are up again out of the canyon." + +"I've enough to think about--and more!" muttered Ashton. + +"Understand? I'm not asking anything of you for myself," said Blake. +"You are doing this survey for your employer." + +"I'm here because of _her_!" retorted the younger man. "I'm here to +make it certain that no harm is to come to _her_!" + +Blake smiled. "Good for you! I hardly thought you were here for the +fun of it. You are going to prove to us that you have the makings. +We're both working for her, Lafe. I don't mind telling you now that I +am planning to do something big for her." He looked up the ravine +wall, his eyes aglow with tenderness. "Belle! dear little Belle! To +think that after all these years--" + +"Shut up!" cried Ashton. "Stop that! stop it, and get to work! I know +what you're planning to do! Don't talk to me!" + +Blake stared in astonishment. "Didn't think you were so sore over that +old affair. I told you I had nothing to do about your father's--" + +"Don't talk to me! don't talk to me!" frantically cried Ashton. "You +ruined me! Now her!" + +"Lord! If you're as sore as all that!" rejoined Blake, his eyes +hardening. "Look here, Mr. Ashton, we'll settle this when we get up +on top again. Meantime, I shall do my work, and I shall see to it that +you do yours. Understand?" + +"Get busy, then! I shall do _my_ work!" snarled Ashton. + +Blake pointed to one of the three bundles that he had tied together. +"There's half the grub, the tripod and the rod. I can manage the rest. +I've dropped a measurement to the foot of the first incline." + +He swung one of the other bundles on his back, under the level. The +third, which was made up of railroad spikes and picket-pins, he sent +rolling down the steep slope, tied to one end of the rope. He had +driven a spike into a crevice of the rock. Hooking the other end of +the rope over its head with an open loop, he grasped the line and +started to walk down the gorge bottom. As he descended he dragged the +loose lengths of rope after him. + +Ashton stood rigid, staring at the spike and loop. If the loop should +slip or the spike pull out, he need only climb back out of the +ravine--to her. But Blake's work was not the kind to slip or pull out. +The watcher looked at the powerful figure backing rapidly down that +roof-like pitch. One of the toes of the level tripod under the taut +loop would easily pry the rope off the spike-head. He turned his pack +around to get at the tripod--and paused to look upwards at the three +tiny faces peering down over the brink of the cliff. + +He slung the pack over his shoulder and grasped the rope to follow his +leader, who had come to the narrow shelf from which another +measurement must be taken. He made the descent no less rapidly and +easily than had the engineer. He was naturally agile, and now he was +too full of his purpose to have any thought of vertigo. Yet quickly as +he followed, when he reached the shelf he found that Blake had already +lowered the bundle of spikes over the cliff below and was reenforcing +with a spike a picket-pin that he had driven deep into a crevice. + +"Drop over the chain at that point," curtly ordered the engineer. +"Think you can climb back up this slope without the rope?" + +"Yes," answered Ashton, still more curtly. + +Blake lifted the line and sent up it a wave that carried to the upper +end and flipped the loop from the spike-head. He jerked the freed end +down to him and knotted it securely to the picket-pin, while Ashton +was making the third vertical measurement. He then lowered everything +except the level in loops of the line, and wrapped a strip of canvas +around the line where it bent over the sharp edge of the cliff. + +Ashton laconically reported the measurement. Blake noted it in his +book, and promptly swung himself out over the edge of the cliff. +Again his assistant looked at the fastening of the rope; again he +looked upwards at the three tiny down-peering faces; and again he +followed his leader. The sun was glaring directly down into the gorge. +Later they would descend into the shadows where no eye could perceive +from above the loosening of the rope. + +Blake cut off the line at the foot of the cliff and left it dangling. +They would require it for their ascent. Another Titan step took fifty +feet more of the rope. + +There followed a series of steep pitches, which they descended like +the first, unlooping the rope from spike-head after spike-head. The +only real difficulty of this part of the descent was the tedious task +of carrying the vertical measurement down the slopes at places where +even Blake could not find footing to climb out horizontally on either +wall of the gorge to obtain a clear drop. + +Always, as they descended, the engineer scanned the rocks both above +and below, calculating where the gorge bottom could be reascended +without a line. Whenever he considered the incline too smooth or too +steep for safe footing, he drove in spikes near enough together to be +successively lassoed from below with a length of line. + +Had not the nature and condition of the rock provided frequent faults +and crevices that permitted the driving of spikes, the descent must +soon have become impracticable. But the engineer invariably found +some chink in which to hammer a spike with his powerful blows. As, +time after time, he overcame difficulties so great that his companion +could perceive no possible solution, Ashton began to feel himself +struggling against a feeling of reluctant admiration. + +All his hate could not blind him to the extraordinary mental and +physical efficiency displayed by the engineer. Never once did the +steely muscles permit a slip or false step, never once did the cool +brain miscalculate the next most advantageous movement. + +They were now so deep that Blake had to shout his infrequent +directions, to be heard above the booming reverberations of the canyon. +Half way down they came to a forty-foot cliff. Blake made his +preparations, and swung over the edge. Here was an opportunity. Ashton +instantly bent over the knot of the rope. + +Close before his eyes he saw the clearly outlined shadow of his head. +He hesitated and straightened on his knees to stare up at the top of +the gorge. He could no longer discern the three down-peering faces, +but he knew that they were still there. And the sunrays still pierced +down to him between the walls of the gorge. The shadows were farther +down, in the lower depths. He must follow and wait. + +When he slid to the foot of the cliff, Blake silently cut off the +rope. There was still nearly a hundred and fifty feet left for them +to use below. But they went down more than a thousand feet before they +again had need of it. As Blake had foretold, the lower half of the +descent was far less precipitous than the upper. In places the +vertical measurements were carried down by rod readings, the level +being set without its tripod on the points of rock where the previous +readings had been taken. At other places Blake marked out horizontal +points ahead on the gorge wall, and climbed to them with the chain. + +All the time the reverberations of the canyon were becoming louder. +Dark shadows began to gather along one wall of the gorge. The sun was +no longer directly in line with the ravine, and they were now far down +in the lower depths. Ashton's knees were beginning to tremble with +weakness. They had brought no water, for they were descending to the +river. The torment of thirst was added to the torment of his hate. He +began to look with fierce eagerness for the opportunity to do his +work--to accomplish the deed for which he had descended into this +inferno. Then he could go up again, out of the roaring, reverberating +hell about him, away from the burning hell within him. + +The shadows were creeping out at him from the side of the gorge. The +sunshine was going--it was flickering away up the opposite precipices. +Now it had gone. All the gorge was somber with shadows. And below were +the blue-black depths of the canyon bottom. Dread crept in upon his +smoldering hate to sweep across its white-hot coals with chill gusts +of fear. + +But now they were come to another sheer cliff--the last in the +descent. From its foot the gorge bottom inclined easily down the final +three hundred feet to its mouth, where the river of the deep roared +past along the canyon bed, its foam flashing silvery white through the +gloom. + +Here at last was the opportunity for which he had waited--here down in +these dark shadows where no eye could see--here where no shriek or cry +could pierce up to the outer world of light and sunshine through the +wild uproar of the angry waters. He awaited the moment, aflame with +pent-up fury, shivering with cold dread. + +Blake dropped his chain from the cliff-edge and took the last vertical +measurement--fifty-three feet. He smiled. The hardest part of the work +was almost accomplished. He swung over the edge. + +Ashton flung himself on his knees beside the triple knot that held the +line fast to its spike. This time he did not hesitate, but began to +tug at the rope end with fierce eagerness. He loosened one knot. The +next was harder to unfasten. Blake had tied it with utmost secureness. +At last it yielded to the tugging of his gloved fingers. He started to +loosen the third knot. Suddenly the taut line slackened. With a +stifled cry of rage, he paused to peer over the edge. Blake had +slipped down the line so rapidly that he was already at the foot of +the cliff. + +Reaching back, Ashton jerked the rope from the spike-head, to cast it +down on the engineer. A glimpse of the flashing water in the canyon +bottom gave momentary check to his vengeful impulse. If only he had a +drink of that cool water! He was parched; his lips were cracking; in +his mouth was the taste of dust. Must he stay up here on the dry rock +while Blake went on down beside the foaming river to drink his fill? + +As he paused, a doubt clutched his heart in an icy grip. All the +way down that devil's stairway he had been witness to Blake's +extraordinary resourcefulness and tremendous strength. What if he +should find a way to clamber up the precipices? He had lowered +everything before descending. There was nothing to fling down upon +him--no loose rock or stone to topple over and crush him. + +Chilled by that doubt, Ashton hesitated, his hands alternately +tightening and relaxing their grip on the rope. What if the man should +contrive to escape? There seemed no bounds to his ingenuity.... No, he +must be followed on down into the canyon and destroyed, else he would +escape--he would come up out of this inferno, like the demon he was, +and destroy _her_. He must be followed!... And the water--the cool, +refreshing water! + +His thirst now seized upon Ashton with terrible intensity. Rage, no +less than the laborious exertion of the descent, had dried up his body +with its feverish fire. Almost maddened with the torment of his +craving, he looped the rope on the spike-head with reckless haste and +slid down over the edge of the cliff. + +As the line tautened with his weight it gave several inches, but he +was too nearly frantic to heed. He slipped down it so swiftly that the +strands burned his hands through the tough palms of his gloves. In a +few moments his feet were on a level with Blake's head. He clutched +the rope tighter to check his fall. An instant later he dropped +heavily on the rock shelf at the cliff foot, and the rope came +swishing down after him. + +"God!" shouted Blake. Involuntarily he flung back his head and stared +up the great gorge to the faraway heights where were waiting his wife +and child. + +But Ashton neither paused nor looked upward. Rebounding from his fall, +he rushed down the slope to the river, with a gasping cry--"Water! +water!" + +For a time the engineer stood as if stunned, his big fists clenched, +his broad chest heaving laboriously. Yet he was far too well seasoned +in desperate adventure to give way to despair. Soon he rallied. He +lowered his gaze from the heights to examine the cliff and the +adjoining walls of the gorge. All were alike sheer and unscalable. The +lines about his big mouth hardened with grim determination. He picked +up the rope and began winding it about his mid-body above the +low-buckled cartridge belt. + +He arranged the coils with such care that he did not notice the +condition of the end of the line until he had drawn in over eighty +feet. Then at last he saw. Though he had not forgotten to wrap the +line with canvas where it passed over the cliff edge, he had thought +the strands must have been frayed through on a sharp corner of rock. +Instead, he found himself staring at the clean-cut string-wrapped rope +end that he had knotted to the spike. + +For several moments he stood looking at it, his forehead creased in +thought. What had become of the knot?... He could think of only one +solution to the puzzle. He turned and gazed down through the gloom at +the dim figure crouched beside the edge of the swirling water. + +"Locoed," he said pityingly--"Locoed.... Poor devil!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +IN THE GLOOM + + +When the engineer came down to the river, Ashton still crouched low, +his dripping head close over the water, as if he was afraid even to +look away from it. Blake rinsed out his mouth and stood up to sip +slowly from his hat, while looking about at the awesome spectacle of +the canyon bottom. + +His first glance was at the swift-flowing stream. His eyes brightened +and the furrows in his forehead smoothed away. The river was not as +formidable as its tumult and foam had threatened. It could be +descended by wading at the places where ledges and bowlders along the +base of the canyon walls failed to afford safe footing. He glanced up +the stupendous precipices at the blue-black ribbon of sky, but only +for a moment. His present thought was not of escape from the depths. + +He bent over to grip the crouching man by the shoulder and lift him to +his feet. Ashton writhed about and glared at him like a trapped wolf. + +"Let go!" he snarled. "It was an accident! I didn't mean to do it!" + +"Of course not," replied Blake, releasing his grip but standing close +that he might not have to shout. "It's all right, old man--my fault. +The knot slipped." + +"You own it! You own it's your fault!" cried Ashton. "You've brought +me down here into this hell-pit! We can't get out! Lost! All your +fault--yours!" + +He made a frantic snatch and jerked the revolver from Blake's holster. +The engineer caught his wrist in an iron grasp and wrenched the weapon +from him. + +"None of that, old man," he admonished with a cool sternness that +chilled the frenzy of the other like a dash of ice water. "You're here +to do your work, and you're going to do it. Understand?" + +"My work!" repeated Ashton wildly. + +"Yes, your work," commanded Blake, his face as hard as iron. "We're +going to survey Deep Canyon down to the tunnel site. Your work is to +carry rod. Do you get that?" + +"Down the canyon?--deeper!" + +"We can't get back up here. There's a place down there beyond the +tunnel site where perhaps we can make it up the canyon wall." + +"A place where we--?" shrilled Ashton. "A place--Good God! and you +stand here doing nothing!" + +He whirled to spring out into the swirling water. Blake was still +swifter in his movements. He caught the fugitive by the arm and +dragged him back. + +"Wait!" he commanded. "We must first carry the levels down to the +tunnel site. You hear that? Stick by me, and I'll pull you through. +Try to run, and, by God, I'll shoot you like a dog!" + +The captive glared into the steel-white eyes of the engineer, anger +overcoming his panicky fear. + +"Let go!" he panted. "Don't worry! I'll do my work--I'll do my work!" + +"If you don't, you'll never get out of this canyon," grimly rejoined +Blake. He released his hold, and started up the slope, with a curt +order: "Come along. We can rod down the slope." + +Ashton followed him, silent and morose. The instrument was screwed to +its tripod, and a line of levels from the foot of the last vertical +measurement was carried down the slope to the canyon. The last rod +reading was on a ledge, three feet above the water, at the corner of +the gorge. Blake considered the reading worthy of permanent record. +They had measured all the many hundreds of feet down from the top of +High Mesa to these profound depths. With his two-pound hammer and one +of the few remaining spikes, he chiseled a cross deep in the surface +of the black rock. + +That mark of the engineer-captain, scouting before the van of man's +Nature-conquering army, was the sign of the first human beings that +had ever descended alive to the bottom of Deep Canyon. + +When he had cut the cross, Blake took out his Colt's, and, gazing up +the heights, began to fire at slow intervals. Confined between the +walls of gorge and canyon, each report of the heavy revolver crashed +out above the tumult of the river and ran echoing and reechoing up the +stupendous precipices. Yet long before they reached the rim of those +towering walls they blurred away and merged and were lost in the +ceaseless reverberations of the waters. + +Blake well knew that this would happen. But he also knew that the +flash of the shot would be distinctly discernible in the gloom of the +abyss. As he fired, he scanned the verge of the uppermost precipices. +After the fourth shot he ceased firing and flung up his hand to point +at the heights. + +"Look!" he shouted. "They see! There is the flag!" + +Ashton stared up with wide, feverish eyes. From an out-jutting point +of rock on the lofty rim he saw a tiny white dot waving to and fro +against the blue-black sky. The watchers above had seen the flash of +the revolver shots and were fluttering the white flag in responsive +signal. Though on the world above the sun beat down its full +mid-afternoon flood of light, the two men in the abyss could see stars +twinkling in the dark sky around the waving fleck of white. + +Blake fired two shots in quick succession, the agreed signal that told +the flag was seen. He then calmly seated himself and began to add +together the vertical measurements taken during the descent of the +gorge. But Ashton groaned and flung himself face downward on the rough +stone. + +Blake soon finished his sum in addition, and the result brought a +smile to his serious face. He checked the figures with painstaking +carefulness, and nodded, fully satisfied. Replacing book and pencil in +the deep pocket of his shirt, he opened one of the packages of food. +When he had laid out enough for a hearty meal, he looked at Ashton. +The prostrate man had not stirred. + +"Come, Lafe," he called encouragingly. "Time to eat." + +Ashton lay still and made no response. + +Blake raised his voice--"Come! You're not going to quit. You're going +to eat. You must keep your strength to fight your way through and up +out of here--to _her_!" + +Ashton sullenly rose and came to sit down on the rock beside the +outspread food. He was silent, but he ate even more heartily than his +companion. When they had finished, Blake swung his pack and level on +his shoulder, fired one shot, and stepped out into the swift but +shallow river. Wading as far downstream as he could see to read the +rod in the twilight of the depths, he set up the tripod of his +instrument on a rock and took the reading given him by Ashton. + +The survey of the canyon itself had begun. Unappalled by the awful +height of the mighty precipices on either side, undaunted by the +uncertainty of escape, heedless of the gloom of the deep, of the +tumult and rush and chill of the icy waters, the engineer boldly +advanced to the attack of this abysmal stronghold of Primeval Nature, +his square jaw set in grim determination to wrest from these hitherto +inviolate depths that which he sought to learn. Whatever might follow, +he must and would unlock the secret of the hidden waters. Afterwards +might come death by slow starvation or the quick dashing down from +some half-scaled precipice. That mattered not now. First must the +engineer perform his work,--first must he execute the task that he had +set himself for the conquest of the chasm that was likely to prove his +tomb. + +Vastly different in purpose, yet no less resolute than the engineer, +Ashton joined zealously in the grim battle with the abyss--for battle +it soon proved to be. Only in places was the subterranean river +shallow and easy to wade. More often it foamed in wild fury down steep +rapids, to fling itself over ledges into black pools; or, worst of +all, it swirled deep and arrowy-swift between fanged rocks where the +channel narrowed. + +Wading, swimming, leaping from rock to rock, scrambling up and down +the steep precipice foot, creeping along narrow shelves,--stubbornly +the explorers fought their way deeper through that wild passage. +Chilled by the icy waters and bruised by many a slip on loose stones +and wet, water-polished rocks, ever they carried the line of levels +down alongside the torrent, crossing over and back from side to side, +twisting and turning with the twists and bends of the chasm. And at +every stand Blake jotted down the rod readings in his half-soaked book +with his pencil and figured the elevation of each turning point before +"pulling up" his instrument to move on downstream to the next "set +up." + +At the end of every half hour he fired a single shot to signal their +progress in the depths to the watchers above. But never once did he +stop to look up for the flag. Occasionally he was required to help +Ashton through or over some unusually difficult passage. For the most +part, however, each fought his own way. The odds were not altogether +in favor of the older man. He was hampered by the care of the +instrument, which must be shielded from all blows or falls. The rod, +on the contrary, served as a staff and support to Ashton, alike in the +water and on the rocks. + +Some time before sunset the waning light in the canyon bottom became so +dim that Blake was compelled to cease work. He took a last reading on +a broad shelf of rock well above the surface of the water, joined +Ashton on the shelf, and began firing the revolver at five-minute +intervals. After the fifth shot he at last perceived the white dot of +the flag far above on the opposite brink of the chasm. He fired two +shots in quick succession, and calmly sat down to open one of the +soaked packages of food. + +Ashton did not wait to be bidden to supper. He fell to on the food and +ate ravenously. Blake did not check him, though he himself took little +and carefully gathered up and returned to the package every scrap of +food left at the end of the meal. As Ashton lay back on the rock he +squirmed from side to side and groaned. His bruises were so numerous +that he could not find a comfortable position. + +"Cheer up!" grimly quoted Blake. "The worst is yet to come." + +He stretched himself out on the rock-shelf and, regardless of the +sullen resistance of the younger man, drew him into his arms. Chilled +to the marrow by his frequent icy drenchings, Ashton was shivering in +the cold wind which came down the canyon with the approach of night. +But Blake's massive body and limbs were aglow with abundant vitality. +Warmed and sheltered from the wind, the exhausted man relaxed like a +child in the strong arms of his companion and quickly sank into the +deep slumber of overtaxed nature. + +Blake lay awake until the narrow strip of sky that showed between the +vast walls of rock deepened to an inky blackness thickly sprinkled +with scintillating stars. The light of a watchfire flamed red far +above on the opposite rim of the chasm wall. To the man below it was +like the glow of human love in the chill darkness of the Unknown. With +a gesture of reverent passion and adoration, he put his fingers to his +lips and flung a kiss up out of the abyss. Then he, too, relaxed on +the hard rock and sank into heavy sleep. + +Ashton was the first to waken. The wind had changed, and he was roused +by the different note in the ceaseless roar of the river. He stared up +at the star-jeweled sky. It was still intensely black; yet the gloom +of the depths was lessened by a vague pale illumination, a faint +shadow of light that might have been the ghost of a dead day. He +thought it was the gray dawn, and sought to roll over on his rock bed +away from the sheltering embrace of Blake. The engineer was still deep +in profound slumber. His big arm slipped laxly from across the moving +man's breast. + +The change of position wrung a groan from Ashton. Every muscle in his +body was cramped, every bruise stiff and sore. Not until he had turned +and twisted for several moments was he able to rise to his feet. The +vague ghost light about him brightened. He gazed upwards. He did not +notice the tiny flame of the fire that told of the anxious watchers +above. Out over the monstrous black wall of the abyss was drifting a +burnished silver-white disk. + +"The moon!" he groaned. "Only the moon! To wait here--with him!--with +him!" + +He looked down at the big form of the sleeping man, and suddenly all +his pent-up rage burst its bounds. It poured through his veins in +streams of fire. He stared about in fierce eagerness in search of a +weapon. Blake lay upon the hilt of the revolver; the level rod lacked +weight and balance. But the heavy hammer--a blow on the upturned +temple of the sleeper!-- + +With the cunning stealth of madness, Ashton took up the hammer and +crept around back of Blake's head. He straightened on his knees, and +peered down at the calm, powerful face of the engineer. + +What if he was a veritable Samson, this conqueror of canyons? Where now +was his power? Sleep had bound fast his steel muscles, had numbed his +indomitable will and locked his keen intellect in the black prison of +unconsciousness. + +The avenger hovered over him, gloating. Now at last was come the +opportunity--the perfect opportunity, down in these uttermost depths, +in the secret night time. The world above slept--and he slept. Never +should he waken from that sleep; never should he rouse up in his evil +strength to escape out of the abyss and bring ruin to her! + +Lightly the hammer swung over and downward, measuring the curve of the +stroke. It lifted and poised. Again it swung down; and again it lifted +and poised. The blow must be certain--there must not be the slightest +chance of missing. + +Each time the heavy steel head stopped a full two inches short of the +upturned temple--but each time its shadow fell across the eyes of the +sleeper. He stirred. The hammer whirled up, gripped in both hands of +the kneeling man. The sleeper turned flat on his back, with his face +full to the light. A quiver ran through the tense muscles of the +avenger. Had the eyes of the sleeper opened, had their lids so much as +fluttered, the hammer must have crashed down. + +But it was the sleeper's lips that moved. As it were by a miracle of +acuteness, the tense nerves of the other's ear caught the whispered +words through the roaring of the river--"_Jenny! Son!_" + +The hammer hurled away out into the swirl of the foam-flecked waters. +The avenger flung himself about, face downward on the rock. + +"God!" he sobbed, in an agony of remorse. "Forgive me, God! I cannot +do it! I am weak--unfit!... Not even to save her!--not even to save +her!" + +He writhed in the anguish of his love and rage and self-abasement. He +had failed; he was too weak to do the deed. But God--Would God permit +that evil should befall her? + +He struggled to his feet and flung up his quivering hands to moon and +stars and black sky in passionate invocation--"O God! You say that +vengeance is Yours; that You will repay! Take me, if You will--I give +myself! Only destroy him too! Save her! save her!" + +Again Blake stirred, and this time he opened his eyes. Ashton had sunk +down in a huddled silent heap. Blake gazed up at the watchfire on the +heights, smiled, and turned over to again fall asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +LOWER DEPTHS + + +Beetling precipices shut off the direct light of the moonbeams and +left the abyss again in dense darkness long before the coming of the +laggard dawn. Blake slept on, storing up strength for the renewal of +the battle. Yet even he could not outsleep the reluctant lingering of +night. He awoke while the tiny flame of the watchfire still flickered +bright against the inky darkness of the sky. + +Ashton had fallen into a fitful doze. The engineer stood up and +silently groped his way to and fro on the shelf of rock, stretching +and limbering his cramped muscles. He wasted no particle of energy; +the moment he had relieved his stiffness he stretched out again. He +lay contemplating that flame of love on the heights until it faded +against the lessening blackness of the sky and the rays of the morning +sun began to angle down the upper precipices. + +He rose to take out two portions of food from the single pack in which +he had bound up all the provisions. The portion for Ashton was small; +his own was smaller. He roused the dozing man and placed the larger +share of food in his hand. + +"Don't drop it," he cautioned. "That's all I can let you have. We must +go on rations until we can see a way out of this hole." + +Ashton ate his meager breakfast without replying. The fire within him +had burned to ashes. He was cold and dull and dispirited. He had +failed. He would have been willing to sit and brood, and wait for God +to answer his prayer.--But his waiting was not to be an inert +lingering in the place where he had failed. + +The moment the down-creeping daylight so lessened the gloom of the +depths that Blake could take rod readings, he plunged over into the +stream, with a curtly cheerful command for Ashton to prepare to +follow. Too dejected even to resist, the younger man silently obeyed. +When Blake signaled to him through the dimness, he held the rod on the +last turning-point of the previous day, and lowered himself from the +shelf down into the stream. + +The evening before, the water at this point had come up to his waist. +It was now only knee-deep. His surprise was so great that in passing +Blake he broke his sullen silence to remark the fact and ask what +could have caused the change. + +"Melting of the snow on the high range," the engineer shouted in +explanation. "Takes time for it to run down the canyon all these miles. +River probably still falling. Will begin to rise about noon. Faster +we get along now, the easier it will be. Hustle!" + +Ashton responded mechanically to the will of his commander. For the +time being his own will was almost paralyzed. The reaction from his +long-sustained rage had left him dazed and nerveless. He had sunk into +a state of fatalistic indifference. He moved quickly downstream from +turning-point to turning-point, driven by Blake's will, but with a +heedless recklessness that all Blake's warnings could not check. + +Within the first hour he twice stumbled and went under while wading +deep reaches of the river, and once he fell from a ledge, bruising +himself severely and knocking a splinter from the rod. Half an hour +later he lost his footing in descending a swift and narrow place that +would have been impassable at high water. Had not Blake been below him +he would never have come out alive. + +The engineer leaped in and dragged the drowning man to safety, after a +desperate struggle with the torrent. But in the wild swirl, both the +food-pack and the rod went adrift. The moment he had rescued his +companion, Blake rushed away downstream, leaping like a goat from rock +to rock. He at last overtook the rod, caught in the eddy of a pool. Of +the pack he could find no trace. He returned to Ashton and silently +handed him the rod. + +There was no need for him to admonish. The loss of all the food and +the narrowness of his escape had sobered the younger man. He resumed +his work with a cautious swiftness of movement that avoided all +needless risks yet never hesitated to encounter and rush through the +dangers that could not be avoided. In this he copied Blake. + +All the time they were advancing down the angry torrent, deeper and +deeper into its secret stronghold,--creeping, crawling, leaping, +wading, swimming--step by step, turn after turn, wresting from the +abyss that which the engineer was resolved to learn, even though he +should learn, only to perish. + +The day advanced. Steadfastly they struggled on down the bed of the +river, twisting and crossing over with the winding course of the +chasm; now between beetling precipices that shut out all sight of the +blue-black sky; now in more open stretches where the Titanic walls +swung apart and the glorious hot sun rays pierced down into the very +depths to warm their drenched bodies and lighten their heavy spirits. + +Ashton had long since lost all count of time. His watch had been +smashed in his first fall of the day. But Blake seemed to have an +intuitive sense of time. At fairly regular intervals he fired a shot +to tell the watchers above the extent of their progress. Sometimes the +answering flag-signal could be seen waving from the rim of the canyon. +But in many places those above could not come near the brink to look +over. + +The approach of midday found the bruised and weary fighters +struggling through one of the narrowest reaches of the canyon. The +precipices jutted out so far that the lower depths seemed more +cavern than chasm, and the river swirled deep and swift between +sheer, narrow walls. Twice Ashton was swept past what should have +been the next turning-point, and Blake, unable to see the figures on +the rod, had to guess at his readings. + +At last the precipices swung apart and showed the sky at a twist in +the canyon's course that was the sharpest of all the turns the +explorers had as yet encountered. As Blake came wading down past +Ashton, along the inner curve of the bend, he stopped and pointed +skywards. Ashton raised his drooping head and peered up at the rim of +the opposite wall. From the brink a dense column of green-wood smoke +was rising into the indigo sky. + +"One more set-up," shouted Blake. + +Three minutes later he took a reading on the water and on a point of +rock at the angle of the canyon-side around which the river swung in +its sharp curve. Three more minutes, and the two battered fighters +stood together on the last bench of that tremendous line of levels, +with torn and rent clothing, sodden, gaping boots, bodies bruised from +head to foot--bleeding, weary, but victorious! They had finished the +work that Blake had set out to do. + +He held up the now-soaked notebook for Ashton to see the last penciled +elevation on the wet paper. + +"Two thousand, forty-five!" he shouted. "Over five hundred feet above +that bench in Dry Greek Gulch! Water, electricity!--Dry Mesa shall be +a garden!" + +Ashton stared moodily into the exultant face of the engineer. + +"Are you sure of that?" he asked. "How do you know that God will let +you climb up out of this hell of stone and water?" + +"There's the saying, 'God helps those who help themselves,'" replied +Blake. "I'm going to put up the best fight I can. If that doesn't win +out, I shall at least have the satisfaction of not having quit. If you +wish to pray, do so. The sooner we start the better. From now on, the +water will be rising." + +"I prayed last night," said Ashton. He added somberly, "And now we are +both going to the devil." + +"No," said Blake, with no less earnestness. "There is no devil--there +is no room for a devil in all the universe. What man calls evil is +ignorance,--his ignorance of those primeval forces of nature which he +has yet to chain; his ignorance of those higher qualities in his own +nature which, if known, would prevent him from wronging others and +would enable him to bring happiness to himself and others." + +"You say that!" cried Ashton. "You can mock! You do not believe in +hell!" + +Blake smiled grimly. "What do you call this?--But you mean a hell +hereafter. I believe this: If, when we pass into the Unknown, we +continue to exist as individual consciousnesses, then we carry with us +the heaven and the hell that we have each upbuilt for ourselves." + +"God will not let you escape," stated Ashton. "You will pass from this +hell of water into the hell of fire and brimstone." + +"Have it your own way," said Blake. "I lived one summer in Death +Valley. The other place can't be much hotter." + +He climbed up the ledges and planted the level firmly on its tripod +above the high-water mark of the spring floods. He called down to +Ashton: "Hate to leave the old monkey up here; but it will serve as a +memento of our present visit, when we come down again to locate the +tunnel head." + +"How can it be that we shall ever come down again?" replied Ashton. +"It is impossible--for we shall never go up." + +Blake jumped down the ledges to him and pointed to the column of smoke +on the lofty heights. + +"Look there," he said. "That is where we are going, if there is any +possible way to go. An optimist would stand here and wait, certain +that wings would soon sprout for him to fly up; a pessimist would sit +down and quit. An optimist is a fool; a pessimist is a worse fool." + +"And which are you?" asked Ashton. + +"I am neither. I am a meliorist. I am going to face the facts, and +then fight for all I'm worth. What's more, you're going to do the +same. Come! We've still got some clothes left, the rod for you to use +as a staff, this rope, the revolver, and seventeen cartridges. It's +fortunate we have any. We've got to signal that we are going on down +the canyon, instead of back up." + +"We may as well stay and die here. But since you prefer to keep +moving, I have no objections," said Ashton, with ironical politeness. + +Blake promptly stepped into the water and led the way to the next +shelf of rock. Here he fired a shot. Going a few yards farther along +the rocks, he fired again. Three times he fired, at intervals of two +minutes. Then the white dot of the flag appeared on the precipice +brink directly up across from him. + +"Once more, and we're sure they understand," he said. + +Advancing a full hundred yards on down the canyon, he fired the fourth +shot. Very soon the fleck of white flaunted on the rim a little way +beyond them. + +"They understand!" cried Blake. "Trust Jenny to use her head! Now +catch your breath and tighten up. We're going to move!" + +He started, and Ashton followed close behind. It was the same rough, +fierce game of leaping, crawling, wading, swimming,--battling with the +river, the rocks, the ledges. But now they were no longer checked and +halted by the alternate stoppings for set-ups and turning-points, and +no longer was Blake encumbered with the care of the level. There was +nothing now to hinder or delay them except the natural obstacles of +their wild path down the bed of the torrent. + +Blake could give all his thought to picking the best and quickest way +through rapids and falls, over the water-washed rocks and along the +side ledges. And he could give all his great strength to helping his +companion past the hard places. In return Ashton gave such help as he +could to the engineer, many times when a steadying hand or the +outstretched rod rendered easier a descent or the fording of some +swift mill race in the stream. + +At the end of the first quarter-mile Blake had fired a shot, and again +at the second quarter. After that he waited longer intervals. He +considered it advisable to husband the few remaining cartridges. + +The river was now rapidly rising. But every inch of added depth found +the two fugitives much farther down the canyon. In two hours they +advanced thrice the distance that they had covered in the same time +before noon, and this despite the increasing depth and force of the +river. + +The pace was so hot that Ashton was beginning to stumble and slip, but +Blake kept by him and helped him along by word and deed. He asserted +and repeated a dozen times over, that they were nearing the place +where an ascent of the precipices might be possible. At last they +rounded a turn in the winding chasm, and Blake was able to point to a +break in the sheer wall on the Dry Mesa side, where the precipices +were set back one above the other in a Cyclopean stepladder and their +steeply-pitched faces were rough with crevices and shelves. + +"Look!" he cried. "There's the place--there's our ladder up from hell +to heaven!" + +Ashton soon lowered his weary head. He stared dully downstream to +where a fifty-foot cliff extended across from side to side of the +canyon like a dam. + +"Part of the wall slid in," he stated with the simplicity of one who +is nearing exhaustion. + +"That shall be our bridge to the ladder," shouted Blake. "It's all +sheer cliff along here at the foot of the break, but the ledges run +down sideways to the top of the cross cliff. We shall soon be lying up +there, high and dry, getting our second wind for the run up the +ladder." + +The engineer spoke confidently, and felt what he spoke. But as they +struggled on down the turbulent stream to the cross cliff, the light +left his face. From wall to wall of the canyon the great mass of fallen +rock stretched across the bottom in a sheer-faced barrier, broken only +by a tunnel barely large enough to suck in the swelling volume of the +river. + +Blake came down close to the intake, scanning every foot of the cliff +face for a scalable break or crevice. There was none to be found. He +climbed along the cliff foot to a low shelf beside the roaring tunnel, +and stood staring at the opening in deep thought. Even while he +looked, the swelling volume of the river filled the tunnel to its +roof. Blake peered at the fresh watermark twenty feet up the face of +the cliff, and bent down beside Ashton, who had stretched out to rest +on the shelf of rock. + +"There's only one thing to it, old man," he said. "We must dive +through that tunnel." + +"Through that hole?" gasped Ashton. "No! I've done enough. I shall +stay here." + +"To drown like a rat in a rainwater barrel!" rejoined Blake. "Look at +that watermark. The tunnel is now running full. Inside a quarter-hour +the river will be up over this ledge. It will keep rising till it +reaches that mark, and it will not fall until after low water." + +"What do I care?" said Ashton hopelessly. "Go to the devil your own +way. I'd rather drown here than in that underground hole. Leave me +alone." + +Blake considered a full half minute, looked up the cliff face, and +replied: "Perhaps it's as well. I shall do the best I can. But first I +want to tell you I've wiped out all that past affair. You are another +person from that Lafayette Ashton. We stand here almost face to face +with the Unknown. One or both of us may soon go out into the Darkness. +As we may never meet again, I wish to tell you that you have proved +yourself, even more than I hoped when I saw you come rushing down the +ravine to join me. You have proved yourself a man. Good-by." + +He held out his hand. But Ashton turned his face to the wall of rock +and was silent. After a time he heard the sound of Blake's worn heels +on the outer end of the shelf. His ears, attuned to the ceaseless +tumult of the waters, caught the click of the protruded heel-nail +heads. There was a brief pause--then the plunge. He looked about +quickly and saw Blake's hands vanish in the down-sucking eddy where +the swollen waters drew into the now hidden intake of the tunnel. + +A cry of horror burst from his heaving chest. Blake had gone--Blake +the iron-limbed, iron-hearted man. He had conquered the river--and now +the wild waters had seized him and were mauling and smashing and +crushing him in the terrible mill of the cavern. Beyond that +underground passage, it might be miles away, the victor would fling up +on some fanged rock a shapeless mass that once had been a man. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS + + +Ashton again turned his face to the rock and groaned. God had answered +his prayer. Now must he pay the price. If only he could force himself +to lie still while the rising waters brimmed up over the ledge and up +over his head and face. He was tired--tired! It would be so peaceful +to lie and rest under the quiet waters. + +But the first ripple that crept over the surface of the shelf brought +him to his feet with the chill of its icy touch. He climbed to a shelf +higher up and again stretched himself full length on the rock. To lie +still and rest was heavenly.... It was too good to last. The water +crept after him up the ledge. This time he could climb no higher. + +He sat erect and waited, still resting, until the flood rose to his +chin. Then he stood up, leaning on the battered level rod. The water +rose after him, creeping with relentless stealth from his thigh to his +waist, from his waist to his chest. It would soon be lapping at his +throat, and then--he must begin to swim. Life was far stronger within +him than he had thought. His strength had come back. Blake was right. +A man should fight. He should hold fast to hope, and fight to the very +last. + +Something swept from side to side along the face of the cliff above +him. It tapped the rock close over his head. He looked up and saw a +rope. He could not see over the rounded brink of the cliff, but he had +no need. There was a rescuer above him who knew his desperate +situation. Could it be Blake? Surely not! He must have perished in the +frightful vortex of the tunnel. + +The rope swung lower. Now it was within reach. Ashton made a clutch as +it swept over him and caught its end. He gave a tug. At once the line +slackened down to him. He felt something in his palm, twisted between +the rope strands. He looked and saw that it was a piece of folded +paper. He opened it and found written a terse sentence in Blake's bold +clear hand: + + Tie rod to line and climb. + +Why should he tie the splintered level rod to the rope? Of what +possible use could it be in climbing the precipices? But even while +Ashton asked himself the questions he obeyed Blake's directions. The +water lapped up over his chin as he tied the knot. He pulled heavily +on the rope. It gave a little way, and then tautened. He reached up +and began to climb, hand over hand, with desperate speed. + +[Illustration: Another desperate clutch at the rope--still another] + +Thirty feet above the water his strength was almost outspent, but he +struggled to raise himself one more time, and then another. To pause +meant to slip back and perish. Another upward heave. The rope here +bent in over the rounding cliff. Hardly could he force his fingers +between it and the rock. Yet if only he could get his knee up on the +sharp slope! He heaved again, his face purple with exertion, the veins +swelling out on his forehead as if about to burst. + +At last! his knee was up and braced against the rock. Another +desperate clutch at the rope--another heave--still another. The cliff +edge was rounding back. Every upward hitch was easier than the one +before. Now he was scrambling up on toes and knees; now he could rise +to his feet. + +The line led across a waterworn ledge and downward. Ashton peered +over, and saw the senseless body of Blake wedged against the other +side of the ledge. About it, close below the arms, the line was +knotted fast. + +Ashton stared wonderingly at the still, white face of the unconscious +man. It was covered with cold sweat. A peculiar twist in the sprawling +left leg caught his attention. He looked--and understood. Panting with +exertion, he staggered down the ledges of the lower side of the +barrier to where the river burst furiously out of the mouth of the +tunnel. + +Hurled by that mad torrent from the darkness of the gorged cavern +straight upon a line of rocks, all Blake's strength and quickness had +not enabled him to save himself from injury. Yet he had crept up those +rough ledges, dragging his shattered leg. Atrocious as must have been +his agony, he had crept all the way to the top, had written the note, +and flung down the rope to rescue his companion. + +There was no vessel in which Ashton could carry water. He had no hat, +his boots were full of holes, he must use his hands in scrambling back +up the ledges. He stripped off his tattered flannel shirt, dipped it +in a swirling eddy, and started back as fast as he could climb. + +Blake still lay unconscious. Ashton straightened out the twisted leg, +and knelt to bathe the big white face with an end of the dripping +garment. After a time the eyelids of the prostrate man fluttered and +lifted, and the pale blue eyes stared upward with returning +consciousness. + +"I'm here!" cried Ashton. "Do you see? You saved me!" + +"Colt's gone," muttered Blake. "But cartridges--fire." + +"You mean, fire the cartridges to let them know where we are? How can +I do it without the revolver?" + +"No, build a fire," replied the engineer. He raised a heavy hand to +point towards the high end of the barrier. "Driftwood up there. Bring +it down. I'll light it." + +"Light it--how?" asked Ashton incredulously. + +"Get it," ordered Blake. + +Ashton hurried across the crest of the barrier to where it sloped up +and merged in the precipice foot. The mass of rock that formed the +barrier had fallen out of the face of the lower part of the canyon +wall, leaving a great hollow in the rock. But above the hollow the +upper precipices beetled out and rose sheer, on up the dizzy heights +to the verge of the chasm. Contrasted with this awesome undermined +wall, the broken, steeple-sloped precipices adjoining it on the +upstream side looked hopefully scalable to Ashton. He marked out a +line of shelves and crevices running far up to where the full sunlight +smiled on the rock. + +But Blake had told him to fetch wood for a fire, that they might +signal the watchers on the heights. He hastened up over the rocks to +the heaps of logs and branches stranded on the high end of the barrier +by the freshets. Every year the river, swollen by the spring rains, +brimmed over the top of this natural dam. + +Yet not all the heaps lying on the ledges were driftwood. As Ashton +approached, he was horrified to see that the largest and highest +situated piles were nothing else than masses of bones. Drawn by a +gruesome fascination, he climbed up to the nearest of the ghastly +heaps. The loose ribs and vertebrae scattered down the slope seemed to +him the size of human ribs and vertebrae. He shuddered as they crunched +under his tread. + +Then he saw a skull with spiral-curved horns. He looked up the canyon +wall, and understood. The high-heaped bones were the skeletons of +sheep. In a flash, he remembered Isobel's account of Gowan, that first +day up there on the top of the mesa. Not only had the puncher killed +six men; he had, together with other violent men of the cattle ranges, +driven thousands of sheep over into the canyon--and this was the +place. + +Sick with horror and loathing, Ashton ran to snatch up an armful of +the smaller driftwood and hurry back down to the center of the +barrier. He found Blake lying white and still. But beside him were +three cartridges from which the bullets had been worked out. At the +terse command of the engineer, Ashton ground one of the older and +drier pieces of wood to minute fragments on a rock. + +Blake emptied the powder from one of the cartridges into the little +pile of splinters, and holding the edge of another shell against a +corner of the rock, tapped the cap with a stone. At the fifth stroke +the cap exploded. The loosened powder of the cartridge flared out into +the powder-sprinkled tinder. Soon a fire of the dry, half-rotted +driftwood was blazing bright and almost smokeless in the twilight of +the depths. + +"Now haul up the rod," directed Blake, and he lay back to bask in the +grateful warmth. + +Ashton drew up the level rod and came back over the ledge. He found +that the engineer had freed himself from the last coils of the rope +and was unraveling the end that had been next his body. But his eyes +were upturned to the heights. + +"Look--the flag!" he said. + +"Already?" exclaimed Ashton. + +"Yes. No doubt one of them has been waiting on that out-jutting +point.--Now, if you'll break the rod. We've got to get my leg into +splints." + +The crude splints were soon ready. For bandages there were strips from +the tattered shirts of both men. Unraveled rope-strands, burnt off in +the fire, served to lash all together. Beads of cold sweat gathered +and rolled down Blake's white face throughout the cruel operation. Yet +he endured every twist and pull of the broken limb without a groan. +When at last the bones were set to his satisfaction and the leg lashed +rigid to the splints, he even mustered a faint smile. + +"That beats an amputation," he declared. "Now if you can help me up +under the cliff, where you can plant the fire against a back-log--I +want to dry out and do some planning while you're climbing up for +help. I've an idea we can put in a dynamo down here, with turbines in +the intake and in the mouth of the tunnel--carry a wire up over the +top of the mesa and down into the gulch. Understand? All the electric +power we want to drive the tunnel, and very cheap." + +"My God!" gasped Ashton. "You can lie here--here--maimed, already +starving--and can plan like that?" + +"Why not? No fun thinking of my leg, is it? As for the rest, you're +going up to report the situation. They'll soon manage to yank me out +of this blessed hole." + +Ashton's face darkened. "But that's the question," he rejoined. "Am I +going to go up? Am I going to try to go up?" + +Blake looked at him with a steady, unflinching gaze. "There's +something queer about all this. Isn't it time you explained? When the +rope came off that last cliff in the gorge and I saw that you had +untied it before sliding down, I thought you were off your head. And +two or three times today, too. But since we landed here--" + +"Your broken leg," interrupted Ashton--"it made me forget. You had +saved me with the rope. I had to help you. Now I see how foolish I +have been. I should have left you to lie here, and flung myself back +over into the water." + +"Why?" calmly queried Blake. + +"Why! You ask why?" cried Ashton, his eyes ablaze with excitement, his +whole body quivering. "Can't you see? Are you blind? What do I care +about myself if I can save her from you? I shall not try to escape. +You shall never go up there to work her harm!" + +"Harm her? You mean put through this irrigation project?" + +"No!" shouted Ashton. "Don't lie and pretend, you hypocrite! You know +what I mean! You know she could not hide how you were enticing her!" + +Blake stared in utter astonishment. Then, regardless of his leg, he +sat up and said quietly: "I see. I thought you must have understood +when she told me, there at the last moment before we started. She is +my sister." + +"Sister!" scoffed Ashton. "You liar! You have no sister. Your sisters +died years ago. Genevieve told me." + +"That was what I told her. I believed it true. But it was not true. +Belle did not die--God! when I think of that! It has helped me through +this fight--it helped me crawl up here with that leg dangling. Good +God! To think of Jenny waiting for me up there, and Son, and little +Belle too--little Belle whom all these years I thought dead!" + +Ashton stood as if turned to stone. "Belle--you call her Belle? She +told me--Chuckie only a nickname!" he stammered. "Adopted--her real +name Isobel!" + +"We always called her Belle--Baby Belle! She was the youngest," said +Blake. + +"But why--why did you not--tell me?" + +"I did not know. She did--she knew from the first, there at +Stockchute. I see it now. Even before that, she must have guessed it. +Yes, I see all now. She sent for me to come out here, because she +thought I might be her brother." + +"You did not tell me!" reproached Ashton, his face ghastly. "How was I +to know?" + +"I tell you, I did not know," repeated Blake. "At first--yes, all +along--there was something about her voice and face--But she had +changed so much, and all these years--eight, nine years--I had thought +her dead. She gave me no sign--only that friendliness. I did not know +until the very last moment, there on the edge of the ravine. I thought +you saw it; that you heard her tell me. It seemed to me everybody must +have heard." + +"I was running away--I could not bear it. I think I must have been +crazy for a time. If only I had heard! My God! if only I had heard!" + +"Well, you know now," said Blake. "What's done is done. The question +now is, what are you going to do next?" + +Instantly Ashton's drooping figure was a-quiver with eagerness. + +"You wish first to be taken up near the driftwood," he exclaimed. +"Let me lift you. Don't be afraid to put your weight on me. Hurry! We +must lose no time!" + +Blake was already struggling up. Ashton strained to help him rise +erect on his sound leg. Braced and half lifted by the younger man, the +engineer hobbled and hopped along the barrier crest and up its sloping +side. His trained eye picked out a great weather-seasoned pine log +lying directly beneath the outermost point of the canyon rim. An object +dropped over where the flag still flecked against the indigo sky, +would have fallen straight down to the log, unless deflected by the +prong of a ledge that jutted out twelve hundred feet from the top. + +"Here," panted Blake, regardless of the great pile of skeletons heaped +on the far end of the log. "This place--right below them! Go +back--bring fire and rope." + +Ashton ran back to fetch the rope and a dozen blazing sticks. +Driftwood was strewn all around. In a minute he had a fire started +against the butt end of the log. He began to gather a pile of fuel. +But Blake checked him with a cheerful--"That's enough, old man. I can +manage now. Take the rope, and go." + +When Ashton had coiled the rope over his shoulder and under the +opposite arm, he came and stood before his prostrate companion. His +face was scarlet with shame. + +"I have been a fool--and worse," he said. "I doubted her. I am utterly +unfit to live. If I were alone down here, I would stay and rot. But +you are her brother. If it is possible to get up there, I am going +up." + +"You are going up!" encouraged Blake. "You will make it. Give my love +to them. Tell them I'm doing fine." + +He held out his hand. + +"No," said Ashton. "I'd give anything if I could grip hands with you. +But I cannot. You are her brother. I am unfit to touch your hand." + +He turned and ran up the precipice-foot to the first steep ascent of +the steeple-sloped break in the wall of the abyss. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE CLIMBER + + +A day of anxiety, only partly relieved by those tiny flashes of light +so far, far down in the awful depths; then the long night of ceaseless +watching. Neither Genevieve nor Isobel had been able to sleep during +those hours when no flash signaled up to them from the abysmal +darkness. + +Then at last, a full hour after dawn on the mesa top, the down-peering +wife had caught the flash that told of the renewal of the exploration. +As throughout the previous day, Gowan brought the ladies food and +whatever else they needed. Only the needs of the baby had power to +draw its mother away from the canyon edge. Isobel moved always along +the giddy verge wherever she could cling to it, following the unseen +workers in the depths. + +On his first trip to the ranch, the puncher had brought Genevieve's +field glasses--an absurdly small instrument of remarkable power. Three +times the first day and twice the second morning she and Isobel had +the joy of seeing their loved ones creeping along the abyss bottom at +places where the sun pierced down through the gloom. They missed +other chances because the canyon edge was not everywhere so easily +approachable. + +Many times the flash of Blake's revolver passed unseen by them. +Sometimes they had been forced away from the brink; sometimes the +depths were cut off from their view by juttings of the vast walls. Yet +now and again one or the other caught a flash that marked the advance +of the explorers. + +Towards midday a last flash was seen by both above the turn where the +canyon curved to run towards Dry Fork Gulch. Between this point and the +sharp bend opposite the gulch the precipices overhung the canyon +bottom. Carrying the baby, the two hastened to the bend, to heap up +and light a great beacon fire of green wood. + +Gowan followed with the ponies, cool, silent and efficient. From the +first he had seldom looked over into the canyon. His part was to serve +Miss Chuckie and her friend, and wait. Like Ashton, he had failed to +surmise the real significance of that tender parting between Blake and +Isobel. His look had betrayed boundless amazement when he saw the wife +of the man take the sobbing girl into her arms and comfort her. But he +had spoken no word of inquiry; and every moment since, both ladies had +been too utterly absorbed in their watch to talk to him of anything +else. + +At last the exploration was nearing the turning point. Genevieve and +Isobel lay on the edge of the precipice near the beacon fire, peering +down for the flash that would tell of the last rod reading. + +Slowly the minutes dragged by, and no welcome signal flashed through +the dark shadows. The usual interval between shots had passed. Still +no signal. They waited and watched, with fast-mounting apprehension. +Could the brave ones down in those fearsome depths have failed almost +in sight of the goal? or could misfortune have overtaken them in that +narrow, cavernous reach of the chasm so close to their objective +point? + +At last--"There! there it is!" + +Together the two watchers saw the flash, and together they shrieked +the glad discovery. + +Genevieve rose to go to her crying baby. Before she could silence him, +Isobel screamed to her: "Another shot!--farther downstream! What can +it mean?" + +Genevieve put down the still-sobbing baby and ran again to the verge +of the precipice. Two minutes after the second flash there came a +third, a few yards still farther along the canyon. + +"They have changed their plans. They are going downstream," said +Genevieve. + +She caught up the long pole of the flag and ran to thrust it out +opposite the point where she had seen the flash. + +Gowan was preparing for the return trip up along the canyon to the +starting point. At Isobel's call, he silently turned the ponies about +the other way and followed the excited watchers. As he did so, the +girl perceived a fourth flash in the abyss, a hundred yards farther +downstream. She hastened with the flag to a point a little beyond the +place. + +When Genevieve had quieted the baby and overtaken Isobel, the latter +was ready with a question: "You know Tom so well. Why is he going on +down? He said that he would at once return after reaching the place +where the head of the tunnel is to be." + +"He must have seen the beacon," replied Genevieve. "He could not have +mistaken that. Something has forced him to change his plans. It may be +they were swept down some place in the river that he knows they cannot +re-ascend." + +"Oh! do not say it!" sobbed the girl. "If they cannot get back--oh! +what will they do? How will they ever escape?" + +"Is there no other place?" asked Genevieve. "Think, dear. Is there no +break in these terrible precipices?" + +"There's a place where the wall slopes back--but steep, oh, so steep! +Yet it is barely possible--" The girl's voice sank, and she glanced +about at Gowan. "It is just this side of where more than five thousand +sheep were driven over into the canyon. That was four years ago. I +have never since been able to go near the place." + +"Tom said that he rode all along the canyon for miles. You say it may +be possible to climb up at that place. He must have seen it, and he +has remembered it." + +"Then you think--?" + +"I know that if it is possible for anyone to climb the wall, Tom will +climb it--and he will bring up Lafayette with him." + +"Dear Genevieve! You are so strong! so full of hope!" + +"Not hope, dear. It is trust. I know Tom better than you. That is +all." + +"Another flash!" cried Isobel. "So soon, yet all that long way from +the last! They are traveling far faster!" + +"Yes, they have finished with the levels," divined Genevieve. "We must +hasten." + +Isobel called the news to the silent puncher, and all moved along to +overtake the hurrying fugitives below. Though both parties went so +much faster, Blake's frequent shots kept the anxious watchers above in +closer touch than at any time before. + +At last they came to that Cyclopean ladder of precipices, rising one +above the other in narrow steps, and all inclined at a giddy pitch far +steeper than any house roof. Yet for a long way down them the field +glasses showed their surfaces wrinkled with shelves and projecting +ledges and creased with faults and crevices. + +The party went past this semi-break in the sheer wall, and halted on +the out-jutting point of the rim where the luckless flock of sheep had +been driven over to destruction. No reference was made to that +ruthless slaughter of innocents. Gowan calmly set about preparing a +camp. The ladies lay down to watch in the shade of a frost-cracked +rock on the verge of the wall. + +Already the time had come and gone for the regular signal of the +revolver shot. The watchers began to grow apprehensive. Still their +straining eyes saw no flash in the depths. A half hour passed. Their +apprehension deepened to dread. An hour--they were white with terror. + +Suddenly a tiny red spot appeared--not a flash that came and went like +lightning, but a flame that remained and grew larger. + +"A fire!" cried Isobel. "They have halted and built a fire." + +Genevieve brought the flag and thrust it out over the edge. The inner +end of the pole she wedged in a crevice of the split rock. + +"They have stopped to rest," she said. "It may be that Lafayette is +worn out. But soon I trust they will be coming up." + +She looked through her glasses. The fire was burning its brightest. +She discerned the prostrate figure beside the ledge. She watched it +fixedly. Soon another figure appeared in the circle of firelight. It +bent over the first, doing something with pieces of stick. + +"Look," whispered Genevieve, handing the glasses to her companion, +"Tom is hurt. Lafayette is binding his leg. It is broken or badly +strained.--Oh! will your father never come?" + +"Tom hurt? It can't be--no, no!" protested Isobel. But she too looked +and saw. After a time she added breathlessly: "It can't be so bad! +Lafe is helping him to rise.... They are starting this way--to the +foot of the wall! They will be climbing up!" + +"But if his leg is injured!" differed Genevieve. + +Again they waited. Presently the fire scattered, and a streak of flame +traveled across the canyon to a point beneath them. Soon the red spot +of a new fire glowed in the shadows so directly under them that a +pebble dropped from their fingers must have grazed down the precipices +and fallen into the flames. + +After several minutes of alternate peering through the glasses, +Genevieve handed them back to Isobel for the third time, and rose to +go to her baby. + +"It is Tom alone," she said, divining the truth. "Lafayette has helped +him to the best place they could find, and now he is coming up to us +for help." + +When she had fed the baby and soothed him to sleep, she laid out +bandages and salve, set a full coffeepot on the fire started by Gowan, +and examined the cream and eggs brought back by the puncher on his +second night trip to the ranch. + +Nearly an hour had passed when Isobel called in joyous excitement: "I +see him! I see him! Down there where the sunlight slants on the rocks. +Oh! how bravely! how swiftly he climbs!" + +Genevieve went to take the glasses and look. Several moments were lost +before she could locate the tiny figure creeping up that stairway of +the giants. But, once she had fixed the glasses upon him, she could +see him clearly. Isobel had well expressed it when she said that he +was climbing swiftly and bravely. Running along shelves, clambering +ledges, following up the crevices that offered the best foothold, the +tattered climber fought his dizzy way upwards, upwards, ever upwards! + +Rarely, after some particularly hard scramble, he flung himself down +on a shelf or on one of the steps of the Titanic ladder, to rest and +summon energy for another upward rush. His good fortune seemed as +marvelous as his endurance and daring. He never once slipped and never +once had to turn back from an ascent. As if guided by instinct or +divine intuition, he chose always the safest, the least difficult, the +most continuously scalable way on all that perilous pitch. + +So swift an ascent was beyond the ordinary powers of man. It could +have been made only by a maniac or by one to whom great passion had +given command of those latent forces of the body that enable the +maniac to fling strong men about like children. Long before the +climber reached the top of that terrible ladder, his hands were torn +and bleeding, the tattered garments were half rent from his limbs and +body, his eyes were sunk deep in their sockets. + +Yet ever he climbed, ledge above ledge, crevice after crevice, until +at last only one steep pitch rose above him. A rope came sliding down +the rock. A voice--the sweetest voice in all the wide world of +sunshine and life--called to him. It sounded very far away, farther +than the bounds of reality, yet he heard and obeyed. He slipped the +loop of the rope down over his shoulders and about his heaving +forebody. Then suddenly his labor was lightened. His leaden body +became winged. It floated upwards. + +When he came to himself, a bitter refreshing wetness was soothing his +parched mouth and black swollen tongue; gentle fingers were spreading +balm on his torn hands; the loveliest face of earth or heaven was +downbent over him, its tender blue eyes brimming with tears of +compassion and love. Softly his head and shoulders were raised, and +hot coffee was poured down his throat as fast as he could swallow. + +He half roused from his daze. The swollen, cracked lips moved in +faintly muttered words: "Leg broken--sends love--doing fine--project +feasible--irrigation--no food--must rest--go down again." + +The eyes of the two ministering angels met. Genevieve bent down and +pressed her lips to the purple, swollen-veined forehead. The heavy +lids closed over the sunken eyes; but before he lapsed into the torpid +sleep of exhaustion that fell upon him, the two succeeded in feeding +him several spoonfuls of raw egg beaten in cream. He then sank into +utter unconsciousness. + +Flaccid and inert as a corpse, he lay outstretched on the grassy slope +while they bound up the cuts and bruises on his naked arms and +shoulders and cut the broken, gaping boots from his bruised feet. His +legs, doubly protected by the tough leather chapareras and thick +riding leggins, had fared less cruelly than his arms, but his knees +were raw and bleeding where the chaps had worn through on the rocks. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +LURKING BEASTS + + +The moment that he had helped haul the climber to safety Gowan had +ridden away with the horses to the camp. He now came jogging back with +the tent and all else that they had not been carrying with them in +their skirting of the canyon edge. He unloaded the packs and hastened +to pitch the tent. + +As he was finishing, Isobel called to him sharply. "What are you doing +there, Kid? That can wait. Come here." + +"Yes, Miss Chuckie," he replied with ready obedience. But when he came +down the slope to the little group, his mouth was like a thin gash +across his lean jaws. He stared coldly at Ashton between narrowed +lids. "Want me to help tote him up by the fire?" he asked. + +"No!" she replied. "It is Tom! He is down there--his leg broken--and +no food! You must go down to him." + +"Go down?" queried the puncher. "What good would that do? I couldn't +help him with that climb. He weighs a good two hundred." + +"You can take food down to him and let him know that help is coming. +You must!" + +Gowan looked sullenly at the unconscious man. "Sorry, Miss Chuckie. +It's no go. I ain't a mountain sheep." + +"But _he_ came up!" + +"That's different. It's a sight easier going up cliffs than climbing +down. No, you'll have to excuse me, Miss Chuckie." + +The girl flamed with indignant anger. "You coward! You saw him come +up, after all that time down in those fearful depths--after fighting +his way all those miles along the terrible river--yet you dare not go +down! You coward! you quitter!" + +The puncher's face turned a sickly yellow, and he seemed to shrink in +on himself. His voice sank to a husky whisper: "You can say that, Miss +Chuckie! Any man say it, he'd be dead before now. If you want to know, +I've got a mighty good reason for not wanting to go down. It ain't +that I'm afraid. You can bank on that. It's something else. I'll go +quick enough--but it's got to be on one condition. You've got to +promise to marry me." + +"_Marry you?_" + +"Yes. You know how I've felt towards you all these years. Promise to +marry me, and I'll go to hell and back for you. I'll do anything for +you. I'll save him!" + +"You cur! You'd force me to bargain myself to you!" she cried, fairly +beside herself with righteous fury. "I thought you a man! You cur--you +cowardly cur!" + +Gowan turned from her and walked rapidly away along the canyon edge, +his head hunched between his shoulders, his hands downstretched at his +thighs, the fingers crooked convulsively. + +"Oh!" gasped Genevieve. "You've driven him away! Call him back! We +need him! He must go for help!" + +The words shocked the girl out of her rash anger. Her flushed face +whitened with fear. "Kid!" she screamed. "Come back, Kid! You must go +to the ranch--bring the men!" + +The cry of appeal should have brought him back to her on the run. It +pierced high above the booming reverberations of the canyon. Yet he +paid no heed. He neither halted nor paused nor even looked back. If +anything, he hurried away faster than before. + +"Kid! dear Kid! forgive me! Come back and help us!" shrieked the +girl. + +He kept on down along the canyon rim, his chin sunk on his breast, his +downstretched hands bent like claws. She ran a little way after him; +only to flutter back again, wringing her hands, distracted. "What +shall we do? what shall we do?" + +"Be quiet, dear--be quiet!" urged Genevieve. "You've driven him away. +We must do the best we can. You must go yourself. I can stay and +watch--" + +"No, no!" cried Isobel. "The way he looked at Lafe!--I dare not go! He +may come back--and I not here!" + +She knelt to place her trembling hand on Ashton's forehead. + +Genevieve looked at the setting sun. "There is no time to lose," she +said. "Saddle my horse while I nurse Baby. I cannot take him with me +down the mountain, in the dark." + +"Genevieve! You dare go--at night?" + +"Someone must bring help, else Tom--all alone down in that dreadful +chasm--!" + +"But you may lose the way! I will go!" + +"No, no, you must stay, Belle. I saw his eyes. He may come back. I +could not protect Lafayette, but you--There is no other way. I must +leave Baby, and go." + +Wondering at the courage of the young mother, Isobel ran to saddle the +oldest of the picketed horses. He was the slowest of them all, but he +was surefooted and steady and very wise. When she brought him down the +ridge, Genevieve placed the newly fed baby in her arms and went with +the glasses to peer down the sheer precipices. There in the blackness +so far beneath her the glowing fire illuminated an outstretched form. +It was her husband, lying flat on his back and gazing up at the +heights. Almost she could fancy that he saw her as she saw him. + +But she did not linger. Time was too precious. She dropped him a kiss, +and ran to spring upon the waiting pony. She did not pause even to +kiss the big-eyed baby. The thirsty pony needed no urging to start at +a lively jog up the slope of the first ridge. As he topped the crest +and broke into a lope the sun dipped below the western edge of High +Mesa. A few seconds later horse and rider disappeared from Isobel's +anxious gaze down the far side of the ridge. + +"Old Buck knows the trail," murmured the girl. "He knows he is headed +for the waterhole. Yet if--if he _should_ lose the trail!" + +A spasm of fear sent her hand to the pistol hilt under the fold of her +skirt and twisted her head about. She glared along the canyon rim. +Gowan was still striding away from her. She watched him fixedly, her +hand clutched fast on the hilt of her pistol, until he disappeared +around a mass of rocks. + +The whinnying of the horses after their companion at last drew her +attention. They had not been watered since the previous evening. +Cuddling close the frightened baby, the girl fetched a basin and one +of the water cans, to sponge out the dusty nostrils of the animals and +give each two or three swallows. + +Then, when she had soothed the fretful child to sleep, she laid him in +a snug nest of blankets between a rock and a fallen tree, and went to +watch beside Ashton. He lay as she had left him, in a stupor of sleep +and exhaustion. + +Gradually the twilight faded. Stars began to twinkle in the cloudless +sky. She watched and waited while the dusk deepened. When she could +barely see objects a few yards away, she stooped over the unconscious +man and, putting out all her supple young strength, half dragged, half +carried him up the slope to a hiding place that she had chosen, in +under an overhanging ledge. There she spread pine needles and blankets +on the soft mold and lifted him upon them, so that nothing hard should +press against his wounds. + +The fire had burned low. It was a full hundred yards away from the +hiding place. She went to replenish it and take a hasty look down at +that outstretched form in the depths. But soon she stole back to the +sleeping man under the rock, going, as she had come, by a roundabout +way in the darkness. + +Night settled down close and dense over the plateau. The girl crouched +beside the sleeper, her eyes peering out into the blackness, the drawn +pistol ready in her hand. She could see only a few feet in the dim +starlight. But her ears, accustomed to the dull monotone of the +booming canyon, heard every sound--the click of the horses' hoofs, even +the munching of the nearest one, the hoot of the owls that flitted +overhead, the distant yelps and wails of coyotes. + +An hour passed, two hours--a third. She crept around to replenish the +fire. When she returned she heard the baby fretting. Swiftly she +groped her way to him and carried him to the hiding place, to quiet +his outcry. He sucked in a little of the beaten egg and cream that she +had ready for Ashton. It satisfied his hunger, and he fell asleep, +clasped against her soft warm bosom. She crouched down with him in her +lap, her right hand again clasped on the pistol hilt, ready for the +expected attack. + +She waited as before, silent, motionless, every sense alert. Another +hour dragged by, and another. Midnight passed. Suddenly, on the ridge +slope above her, one of the horses snorted and plunged. She raised the +pistol. The horse became quiet. But something came gliding around the +rocks, a low form vaguely outlined in the darkness. It might have been +a creeping man. It turned towards the hiding place. The girl found +herself looking into a pair of glaring eyes. She thrust out the +pistol, with her forefinger pointing along the barrel. The darkness +was too deep for her to aim by the sights. + +Before she could press the trigger, the beast bounded away, with a +snarl far deeper, far more ferocious than any coyote could have +uttered. The girl did not fire. The wolf had seen the glint of her +pistol barrel and had fled. He would not return. But she shuddered and +drew the sleeping baby close as she thought of what might have +happened had she left him alone in the nest between the rock and the +tree. + +The precious, helpless child! He was of her own blood, the son of her +strong, splendid brother ... of her brother, lying down there in those +awful depths, helpless--in agony!... + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +CONFESSIONS + + +A groping hand touched her arm; bandaged fingers sought to feel who +she was. Behind her sounded a drowsy incoherent murmur. The snarl of +the wolf had roused the sleeper from his torpor. + +"Hush--hush!" she whispered. "It is all well. I am here by you. Lie +still." + +"Isobel!" he murmured. "Isobel!" + +"Yes, dear!" she soothed. "I am here. Rest--go to sleep again. All is +well." + +"All is--?" He roused a little more. "You say--Then he is safe! They +have brought him up--out of that hell!" + +She could not lie outright. "He will soon be safe. By morning help +will have come to us. As soon as the men can see to go down, they will +descend for him. They will bring him up the way that you have shown +us!" + +Her voice quivered with pride of what he had done. She drew up his +hand and pressed her lips tenderly upon the bandages. + +Had the caress been a burn, he could not have more quickly snatched +the hand away. He sought to rise, and struck his head against the +overhanging rock. + +"Where am I? Let me out!" he said. + +"No, you must not! Lie still! You must not!" she remonstrated. + +"Lie still?" he repeated. "Lie still! with him down there--alone!" + +"But it is night--midnight. It will be hours before even the moon +rises." + +"And he down there--alone! Help me make ready. I am going down to +him." + +"Going down? But you cannot! It is midnight!" + +"There is a lantern. I shall take that. It will be easier than in the +daytime, for I shall not see those sickening precipices below." + +He sought to creep out past her. She clutched his arm. + +"No, no! do not go! There is no need! Wait until they come. You have +done your share--far more than your share! Wait!" + +"I cannot," he replied. "I must go down to him. I have no right to be +up here, and he still down there." + +"You must!" she urged, clinging tighter to his arm. "You may fall. I +am afraid! I cannot bear it! Do not go! Stay with me--say that you +will stay with me--dearest!" + +"Good God!" he cried, tearing himself away from her, "To let you say +it--say it to me!" + +"Dearest!" she repeated. "Dearest, do not go! There is no need! I +cannot bear it! Do not go!" + +"No need? My God! When I could fling myself over, if it were not for +him! To have let you say it--to me--to a liar! thief! murderer!" + +"Dearest!" she whispered. "Hush! You are delirious--you do not +know--" + +"It is you who do not know!" he cried. "But you shall--everything--all +my cowardly baseness!" The confession burst from him in a torrent of +self-denunciation--"That trip to town, when we went to fetch them, I +lied to you about those bridge plans. It was not true that I found +them. He handed them to me. He took no receipt. I looked at them and +saw how wonderful they were. I stole them. My father had threatened to +cast me off if I did not do something worth while. I was desperate. So +I stole your brother's plans. I copied them--" + +"You know about Tom!" she interrupted. "But of course. You saw me tell +him, there at the ravine." + +"I saw you put your arms about his neck and kiss him; but I did not +hear--I did not see the truth. I believed--that is the worst of it +all--I believed it possible that you--_you_--!... That devil Gowan.... +But that is no excuse. Had I not already doubted you.... And I went +down--down into hell, with only one purpose--to make certain that he +never should come up again!" + +"Dear Christ!" whispered the girl--"Dear Christ! He has gone mad!" + +"No, Isobel," he said, his voice slow and dead with the calm of utter +despair, "I am not mad. I have never been mad except for a little +while after you put your arms about his neck. No--For years I was a +fool, a profligate fool, wasting my life as I wasted all those +thousands of dollars that I had not earned. I turned thief--a +despicable sneak thief. At last the dirty crime found me out. I +received a small share of the punishment that I deserved. Then you +took me in--without question--treated me as a man. God knows I tried +to be one!" + +"You were!--you are!" she broke in. "This is all a mistake--a cruel, +hideous mistake!" + +"I tried to go," he went on unflinchingly. "You urged me to stay. I +was weak. I could not force myself to leave you." + +"Because--because!" she murmured. + +"All the more reason why I should have gone," he replied. "But I was +weak, unfit. I lied to you and won your pity. You gave me the chance +to stay and prove myself what I am. Down there, when he told me what I +should have guessed--what I must have guessed had not my own baseness +blinded me to the truth--when he told me he was your brother, I saw +myself, my real self,--my shriveled, black, hellish soul. Now you see +why I must go down again. I can never make reparation for what I have +done. But I can at least go down to him." + +"You take all the blame on yourself!" she protested. "What if I had +confessed my secret, there at the first, when Tom sprang down from the +car and I knew him." + +"If you had told, then I should not have been tempted to doubt you, +and I should have gone on, it might have been forever, with that lie +and that theft between us--and I should not have been forced to see, +as I now see, my absolute unworthiness of you." + +"Of me!" she cried shrilly, and she burst into wild hysterical +laughter. It broke off as abruptly as it began. "Unworthy of me--of +me? the daughter of a drunken mother, the sister of a girl who--" A +sob choked her. She went on desperately: "You have told me all. But +I--do you not wonder why I kept silent--why I denied Mary by my +silence? You say you sought to harm Tom--down there. You did not know +he was my brother. You thought he would harm me. Is it not so?" + +"I doubted you!" + +"Why? Because I failed to tell the truth. I feared to hurt him--to +make trouble between him and his rich, high-bred wife. As if I should +not have known better the moment I saw Genevieve! Dear sister! she +knows all. But you--Either I should have spoken, or I should have +hidden all my fondness for him. But I could not hide my love for +him--and I was ashamed to tell." + +"Ashamed--you?" + +"We lived in the slums. They told me my father was a big man, a man +such as Tom is now. He was a railroad engineer. He was killed when I +was a baby. Then we sank into the slums. My mother--she died when I +was twelve. There was then only Mary and I and Tom. He could make only +a little, working at odd jobs. Mary and I worked in a factory. Even +she was under age. When I was going on fourteen there came a terrible +winter when thousands were out of work. We almost starved." + +"You--starved!" murmured Ashton. "Starved! And I was starting in at +college, flinging away money!" + +"Tom tried to force people to let him work," the girl went on +drearily. "He was violent. They put him in jail. Soon Mary and I had +nothing left. There was no work for us. We had sold everything that +anyone would buy. The rent was overdue. They turned us out--on the +streets.... I was too young; but Mary.... She found a place where I +could stay. They were decent people, but hard.... + +"The weather was bitterly cold. She was taken sick. When the people +with whom I was staying heard what she had done, they refused to help. +I begged in the street. I was very small and thin. The--the beasts did +not trouble me. Then, when Mary was very sick, I met Daddy. I begged +from him. He did not give me a nickel and pass on. He stopped and made +me talk--he made me take him to Mary. + +"He had her moved to the best hospital.... It was too late.... I also +had pneumonia. They said I would die. But Daddy brought me home just +as soon as I could be moved. The railroad was then a hundred miles +from Dry Mesa. But he kept me wrapped in furs, and all the way he +carried me in his arms. Do you wonder why I love him so?... That is +all. You see now why I shrank from telling--why I denied Mary." + +"She is in Heaven," said Ashton--"in Heaven, where some day you will +go. But I--I--" She could see no more than the vague blotch of his +white face in the darkness, but his voice told her the anguish of his +look. "He was right--your brother. He told me that we always take with +us the heaven or the hell that we each have made for ourselves.... I +have lost you.... You know now why I am going down to do the little +that I can do." + +"You are going down?" she asked wonderingly. "You still say that you +are going down? Yet I have told you about--Mary!" + +"If you were she, I still would be utterly unfit to look you in the +face. I shall go to the camp for the lantern. There were other gloves +and some of my clothing." + +"They are all here." + +"Show me where they are, and get ready the lantern and bandages and a +sack of food." + +"You are going down," she acquiesced. "You are going to Tom. And you +are coming up with him--to me!" + +"That is too much. I doubted you. Where are those things? He is +waiting down there alone." + +"Here is his child, my nephew," she said. "Hold him while I go for +what you need. Here is my pistol. The man who shot you, who twice +tried to murder you--he is somewhere up here. He will not harm me. But +you--If he comes creeping in on you here, shoot him as you would shoot +a coyote." + +"The man who shot me? He is up here?" + +"You have seen him every day since that first day I met you," replied +the girl. "His name is Gowan." + +"_Gowan?_" + +"Kid Gowan, murderer! I saw his eyes as he looked at you, lying down +there on the brink. Then I knew." + +"But--if he--Where is Genevieve? I cannot go and leave you alone." + +"You can--you must! He is a coward. He dare not follow you down that +terrible place. No harm will come to me if you are gone. But if he +comes back and finds you--do you not see that if he kills you, he must +also kill me? But in the morning, when the others come--Oh, why +hasn't Daddy come? All this long time since you went down into the +depths, and he not with us! If only he were here!" + +"Genevieve?" again inquired Ashton. + +"She has gone. She started down the mountain for help when Kid went +away. I'm so afraid for you, dear! He may be creeping back now--he may +be waiting already, close by here, in the darkness. But if he has not +heard our voices, he will go first to where you came up, and then to +the tent. Keep quiet until I return. Wait; here is cream and egg. +Drink it all." + +When he had drained the bowl that she held to his lips, she crept +away. Ashton sat still, the warm, soft little body of the sleeping +baby in his arms, the pistol in his bandaged right hand. In her +excitement Isobel had forgotten his bound fingers. If Gowan had come +on him then, he would have put the baby back in under the rock, and +faced the puncher's revolver with a smile. What had he now to live +for? He had lost her. She had not yet grasped the baseness of what he +had thought and done. As soon as she realized ... And he could never +forgive himself. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +OVER THE BRINK + + +Isobel came back to him, noiselessly gliding around through the +darkness. She set down the bundle she was carrying, and hung blankets +over the entrance of the little cave. She then lighted the lantern. He +held out his bound hands. She unbound them enough for him to use his +fingers, and taking the baby and the pistol, crouched down, with her +ear close to the screening blankets, while he exchanged his tattered +clothes for those she had brought to him. + +There were also his change of boots and a pair of Blake's gauntlet +gloves, into which he was able to force his slender fingers without +removing the remaining bandages. Isobel had already bound up into a +kind of knapsack the food and clothing and first-aid package that he +was to take down to her injured brother. He slung it upon his back, +and whispered that he was ready. + +She nestled the baby in the warm blankets on which he had lain, +wrapped a blanket about the lantern, and led him cautiously down to +the brink of the chasm. Dark as was the night about them, it was +bright compared with the intense blackness of that profound abyss. +The girl caught his arm and shrank back from the edge. + +"You will not fall? you are certain you will not fall?" she +whispered. + +"I cannot fall," he answered with calm conviction. "He needs me. I am +going down to him. Besides, it will be easier with the lantern than if +I could see below." + +"Do not uncover the light until you are down over the edge.--Wait!" + +She stooped to knot the rope that he had brought up from the depths, +to the lariats with which he had been dragged up the last ledges. She +looped the end about his waist. + +"There," she said. "I shall at least be able to help you down the +first fifty yards." + +"God bless you and keep you! Good-by!" he murmured in a choking voice, +and he hastily crept down to slip over the first ledge of that +night-shrouded Cyclopean ladder. + +"Lafe!" she whispered. "Surely you do not mean to go without first +telling me--I cannot let you go until--If you should fall! Wait, +dearest! Kiss me--tell me that you--Oh, if you should fall!" + +"I will not fall; I cannot. Good-by!" + +The dim white blotch of his face disappeared below the verge. The line +jerked through the girl's hands. She clutched it with frantic +strength and flung herself back with her feet braced against a point +of rock. After a moment of tense straining, the rope slackened, and +his voice came up to her over the ledge: "Pay out, please. It's all +right. I've found a crevice." + +She eased off on the line a few inches at a time, but always keeping +it taut and always holding herself braced for a sudden jerk. At last +the end came into her hand. She had to lie out on the rim-rock and +call down to him. He called back in a tone of quiet assurance. The +line slackened. He had cast it loose. The lantern glowed out in the +blackness and showed him standing on a narrow shelf. + +As Isobel bent lower to gaze at him, a frightful scream rang out above +the booming of the canyon. It was a shriek such as a woman would utter +in mortal fear. The girl drew back from the verge, her hair stiffening +with horror. Could it be possible that Genevieve had lost her way and +was wandering back to camp, and that Gowan-- + +Again the fearful scream pierced the air. Isobel looked quickly across +towards the far side of the canyon. She could see nothing, but she drew +in a deep sigh of relief. The second cry had told her that it was only +a mountain lion, over on the other brink of the chasm. + +When she again looked down at Ashton he was descending a crevice with +a rapidity that brought her heart into her mouth. Yet there was no +hurry in his quick movements, and every little while he paused on a +shelf to peer at the steep slope immediately below him. Soon the +circle of lantern light became smaller and dimmer to the anxious +watcher above. Steadily it waned until all she could see was a little +point of light far down in the darkness--and always it grew smaller +and fainter. + +Lying there with her bosom pressed against the hard stone, her +straining eyes fixed on that lessening point of light, she had lost +all count of time. Her whole soul was in her eyes, watching, watching, +watching lest that tiny light should suddenly shoot down like a meteor +and vanish in the darkness. Many times it disappeared, but never in +swift downward flight, and always it reappeared. + +Not until the moon came gliding up above the lofty white crests of the +snowy range did she think of aught else than that speck of light and +of him who was bearing it down into the black depths. But the glint of +moonlight on a crystalline stone broke her steadfast gaze. Before she +could again fix it on the faint point of lantern light a sound that +had been knocking at the threshold of her consciousness at last made +itself heard. It was an intermittent clinking as of steel on stone. + +She looked around, thinking that one of the horses was walking along +the ridge slope with a loose shoe. But all were standing motionless in +the moonlight, dozing. Again she heard the click, and this time she +located the direction from which it came. She looked at the split rock +on the edge of the sheer drop. From beside it she had peered down +through the field glasses at the outstretched form of her brother, far +beneath in the canyon bottom. + +The sound came from that rock. She stared at the side of the +frost-split fragment with dilated eyes. The crack between the loose +outer bowlder and the main mass showed very black and wide in the +moonlight. Could it be possible that it had widened--that it was +slipping over? And her brother down there beneath it!... + + * * * * * + +By setting wedge-shaped stones in the top of the cleft rock and prying +with the crowbar, Gowan had gradually canted the top of the loose +outer bowlder towards the edge of the precipice. It had only to topple +forward in order to plunge down the canyon wall. He was working as +silently as he could, but with a fierce eagerness that caused an +occasional slip of the crowbar on the rock. + +Although the great block of stone weighed over two tons, its base was +small and rounded, and the mass behind it gave him leverage for his +bar. Every inch that he pried it forward, the stones slipped farther +down into the widening crack and held the vantage he had gained. +Already the bowlder had been pushed out at the top many inches. It +was almost balanced. The time had come to see if he could not pry it +over with a single heave. + +He did not propose to fall over after the rock. He turned his face to +the brink, set the end of the bar in the crevice, and braced himself +to heave backwards on the outer end. He put his weight on it and +pulled. He could feel the rock give--the top was moving outward. A +little more, and it must topple over. + +Close behind him spoke a voice so hoarse and low-pitched with horror +that it sounded like a man's--"Drop that bar! drop it!" + +With the swiftness of a wolf, he bounded sideways along the rim-rock. +In the same lightning movement, he whirled face about and whipped his +Colt's from its holster. His finger was crooking against the trigger +before he saw who it was that confronted him. The hammer fell in the +same instant that he twitched the muzzle up and sideways. The heavy +bullet scorched the girl's cheek. + +Above the crashing report rose a wild cry, "Miss Chuckie--God!" + +Through the blinding, stinging powder-smoke she saw him stagger +backwards as if to flee from what he thought he had done. His foot +went down over the sharp edge. He flung up his hands and dropped into +the abyss. + +She did not shriek. She could not. Her tongue clove to the roof of +her mouth. Her heart stopped beating. She crumpled down and lay +gasping. But the fascination of horror spurred her to struggle to her +knees and creep over to peer down from the place where he had fallen. + +Beneath her was only blank, utter darkness. No sound came up out of +the deep except only that ceaseless reverberation of the hidden river. +Twelve hundred feet down, the falling man had struck glancingly upon +the smooth side of an out-jutting rock and his crushed body had been +flung far out and sideways. It plunged into the rapids below the +barrier and was borne away down the canyon. But this the girl could not +have seen even in midday. + +She looked for the red star of the distant fire where she knew her +brother was lying. She could not see it. The point upon which the +falling man had struck shut off her view. The other side of the split +rock was where she and Genevieve had looked down through the glasses +and seen Blake. She failed to realize the difference in the change of +position. Her horror deepened. She thought that Gowan had hurled +straight down to the bottom with all the terrific velocity of that +sheer drop, and that he had plunged upon the fire and upon the dear +form outstretched beside it, to crush and mangle and be crushed and +mangled. The thought was too frightful for human endurance. + +A long time she lay in a swoon, her head on the very edge of the +brink. It was the wailing of the hungry, frightened baby that at last +called her back to life and action. She dragged herself up around to +the hiding place. The neglected baby was not easy to quiet. The cream +had soured. There was nothing that she could give him except water. +All the eggs that were left she had put in the knapsack that Ashton +was carrying down to her brother. The baby now showed the full reflex +of his mother's long hours of anxiety and fear. He fretted and cried +and would not be comforted. + +The chill of approaching dawn forced her to rebuild the outburnt fire. +The warm glow and the play of the flames diverted the child and hushed +his outcry. Holding him so that he might continue to watch the dancing +tongues of fire, the girl sat motionless, going over and over again in +her mind all that had occurred since the tattered, bleeding, +purple-faced climber had come straining up out of the depths.... It +could not have happened--it was all a hideous dream.... Would they +never come? Must she sit here forever--alone! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +FRIENDS IN NEED + + +Because of the moonlight she did not heed the graying of the east. But +the whinnying of the picketed horses roused her from the apathy of +misery into which she had sunk. She stood up and looked along the +ridge. A small roundish object appeared above the crest--then others. +They rose quickly--the heads of riders spurring their horses up the +far side of the ridge. + +Singly, in pairs, in groups, the rescuers burst up into view and came +loping down to her, shouting and waving. In the lead rode her father +and the sheriff; in the midst Genevieve, between two attendant young +punchers. In all, there were nearly two dozen eager, resolute men, +everyone an admiring friend of Miss Chuckie, everyone zealous to serve +her and hers. + +The girl stood waiting beside the fire. She had tried to run to meet +them and found that she could not move. The suddenness of their coming +after all that fearful night of waiting seemed to numb her limbs. + +They rushed down upon her, waving, shouting questions. Her father, on +Rocket, was the first to reach her. He sprang off and ran to put his +arm about her quivering shoulders. + +"Honey! it's all right now!" he assured her. "We're here with +everything that's needed. We'll soon yank him up out of that hole!" + +The baby, frightened by the rush and tumult of the off-leaping riders, +began to scream. Someone took him from the girl's arms and handed him +to his mother as she was lifted down out of her saddle. Isobel pressed +her face against her father's sweaty breast. + +"Hold on, Miss Chuckie!" sang out one of the men. "Don't let go yet. +Where's Gowan--Kid Gowan?" + +She shuddered convulsively, yet managed to reply: "He--was trying +to--to roll the rock down. Tom, my brother, is right below it. I heard +and came to see. His back was to me. I could not shoot--I could not +raise my pistol. When I spoke, he whirled and shot at me. He--" + +"Kid--shot at you?" cried Knowles. "At you? 'Tain't possible!" + +"He didn't mean to. He fired before he saw who I was. Then he saw. He +forgot everything--everything except that he had shot at me. He backed +off--there--over the edge!" + +A sudden hush fell on the excited crowd. One man went to peer down +from the place to which the girl had pointed. He came back softly. +"Same place where the last bunch of sheep went over," he said. "Rest +of us were pretty sick--ready to quit. He kept after them until the +last ewe jumped. Said they'd gone to hell, where they belonged." + +"He's the one that's gone there!" said the sheriff. "Look at the way +this bowlder is pried loose, ready to roll over! Once heard tell that +his real dad was Billie the Kid. Some of you mayn't have heard tell of +Billie. He was the coldest blooded, promiscuous murderer of them days +when we used to drive from Texas to Montana and the boys used to +shoot-up towns and each other just for fun. Well, this Kid Gowan has +got Billie's eyes and slit mouth. Can't say I ever took to him, but +seeing as how he was a crack-up puncher and Wes Knowles' foreman--" + +"That's it! I can't understand it--Kid has been almost like a son to +me all these years!" complained Knowles perplexedly. He explained to +his daughter. "You're wondering why I didn't come sooner, honey. Those +Utes had been let go. We had to follow them up a long ways. When we +got them back and put them on that trail from the waterhole, they +found it led straight across the flats to where the horses and wagon +had stood. There the tracks of the Indian shoes ended, and the tracks +of shod hoofs led off into the brush. We followed them all the way +'round to the lower waterhole and up the lower creek to the ranch, and +there they took us right to Rocket's heels. The Jap said Kid had his +saddle in the wagon when he came back from town, and he had a new hat. +Mr. Blake did some hot shooting at that assassin on the hill. So, +putting two and two together--" + +"Oh, Daddy, I know--I knew when I saw him look at Lafe!" + +"The--" Knowles choked back the epithet. "Yes, Mrs. Blake told us +about that--and about her husband! Jumping Jehosaphat! Think of his +being your brother! You must have been plumb locoed, to keep still +about that! Why didn't you tell us, honey?--leastways me, your +Daddy!" + +"I--I--But about Genevieve? Tell me. You could have come sooner if +she--Was she lost? I was sure that pony--" + +"Better have given her a fast one. It came on so dark before he was +half down the mountain that she was knocked out of the saddle by a +branch. He went on down to the waterhole. She tried to catch +him--couldn't. Got lost and wandered all around before she got down to +the waterhole and caught him. We had got to the ranch at dusk, and all +the posse had turned in for the night. She came loping down the divide +just after moonrise. We started as soon as we could rake up all the +picket-pins and rope. Wanted Mrs. Blake to wait and come on later; but +talk about grit! We simply couldn't make her stay behind." + +Isobel thrust herself free from her father's arms and darted out +through the circle of rugged, earnest-faced punchers and cowmen to +where Genevieve lay resting with the baby clasped to her bosom. + +"Dear! you poor dear!" she murmured, kneeling to stroke the head of +the weary young mother. + +"I shall soon be rested," replied Genevieve. "How about Tom? Have you +kept watch of him? Has he moved?" + +The girl shrank back, unable to face her sister-in-law's eager look. + +"No--I--The fire--it--it disappeared, and I could not see." + +Genevieve smiled, and the reddening dawn lent a trace of color to her +pale face. "It was a good sign. He could not have been suffering so +much. He must have slept, and the fire died down." + +"Oh! you think that was it?" sighed Isobel. "I feared--" + +She did not say what it was she had feared. As she paused Genevieve +looked up into her agitated face and asked quickly: "But Lafayette? Is +he still sleeping?" + +"Yes, where's Lafe, honey?" inquired Knowles. "We'll have to roust him +out to tell us just what way he came up." + +"Haven't I told you?" cried Isobel, her head still in a whirl of +conflicting emotions. Then, as tersely and quietly as her father would +have related it, she told the bald facts of how Ashton had been +wakened by the snarl of the wolf, how he had insisted upon going back +to help her brother, and how he had gone down into the darkness, the +pack and lantern slung over his shoulder. + +"By--James!" vowed Knowles, when she had finished. "Any man on the +Western Slope say that boy's not acclimated, he'd better look for +another climate himself." + +"Gentleman," the sheriff addressed the exclaiming crowd, "you heard +tell what the little lady had to say about her husband and this Lafe +Ashton going down into Deep Canyon, where no man ever went before. Now +Miss Chuckie has told us again how Ashton climbed up here, where no +man in this section had a notion anything short of a mountain sheep +could climb. Well, what does the gritty kid do but turn round and +climb down again--in the dark, mind you! They're down there now, both +of them--down in the bottom of Deep Canyon. We called them tenderfeet, +that day when Mr. Blake honored our county seat by sidetracking his +palatial car. Boys, down there in that hole are the two nerviest men I +ever heard tell about. One of 'em has a broken leg. The other has +broke the trail for us. I ask for volunteers to go down with me and +yank 'em up out of there. Gentlemen, who offers?" + +Instantly the crowd surged forward. Every man shouted, whooped, +struggled to thrust himself ahead of the others and force the +acceptance of his services on the sheriff. + +"Hold on, boys!" he remonstrated. "Just hold your hawsses. I didn't +ask for a stampede. You can't all go down. Last man over might get in +a hurry to catch the first, and start a manslide." + +"I vote we set a thirty-year limit," put in one of the younger +punchers. + +This raised a clamor of dissent from the older men. + +"Tell you what," shouted another. "Let Miss Chuckie cut out the lucky +ones." + +"That's the ticket--Now you're talking!" Every man shouted approval, +and fell silent as Isobel sprang up from beside Genevieve. + +"Friends!" she exclaimed, her eyes radiant, "it's such times as these +that makes life grand! I believe six of you would be enough, but I'll +make it ten. First, I'm going to bar everyone who has a wife or +children." + +"That doesn't include me, honey," hastily protested her father. + +"Then you come in the next--none over thirty-five nor under twenty." + +A groan arose from some of the youngsters, but the older men took +their disappointment in stolid silence. She went on with calm +decisiveness: "Now those of you that have done any considerable +mountain climbing afoot this summer, please step this way." + +Two members of a recently disbanded surveying party, four punchers who +had tried their luck at prospecting on the snowy range, and three wild +horse hunters sprang forward in response to the request. + +"That's enough," said the sheriff. "I've got to own up to being forty. +But I'm leading this here posse, and I'll eat my hat if I can't +outclimb anything on two legs in this county. String out your ropes, +boys, and pass over all them picket-pins. We'll need a purchase now +and again, I figure, hauling up Mr. Blake. Hustle! Here's the sun +clean up." + +Under the brusquely jovial directions of their leader, the lucky nine +divested themselves of spurs and cartridge belts, tied themselves to +the line at intervals of several feet, and promptly started down the +dizzy ledges. The others helped them during the first fifty yards of +descent with the line that Isobel had drawn up after it had been cast +loose by Ashton. They then gathered along the brink, enviously +watching the descent of their companions into the shadowy abyss. + +Genevieve came to where Isobel and her father crouched beside the +others. "Thomas will not let me put him down, Belle," she said. "I see +you left the glasses beside the rock. If Lafayette has reached the +bottom safely--" + +"If--safely!" echoed Isobel. "Daddy, you look--quick, please!" + +Knowles hastened to skirt along the brink to where the little field +glasses lay at the near side of the split rock. The two followed him, +Genevieve smiling with pleasant anticipation, Isobel trembling with +doubt and dread. The cowman stretched out on the rim shelf and peered +over. + +"Um-m-m," he muttered. "Can't see anything down there. Too dark yet." + +"Look straight below you," said Genevieve. + +"Hey?--Uh! By--James! Well, if that ain't a picture now! These sure +are mighty fine little glasses, ma'am. I can see 'em plain as day." + +"Them?--you say 'them,' Daddy?" cried Isobel. + +"Sure. Come and look for yourself. Guess Lafe is fixing Mr. Blake's +leg.--Which reminds me, honey, that before we left the ranch, Mrs. +Blake had me send for that lunger sawbones that's come to live at +Stockchute. He'll be here, I figure, before or soon after the boys get +Mr. Blake up into God's sunshine." + +"Brother Tom, Daddy--you mean my Brother Tom!" joyfully corrected the +girl as she took the glasses. + +"Well, you've got to give me time to chew on it, honey. It's come too +sudden for me to take it all in." He stood up and gazed gravely at the +smiling mother and her comforted baby. "Hum-m-m. Then that yearling is +my Chuckie's own blood nephew. Well, ma'am, what do _you_ think of it, +if I may ask?" + +"Can't you make it 'Jenny,' Uncle Wes?" asked Genevieve. + +He stared at her blankly. "But I didn't adopt him, ma'am--only her." + +"He is the brother of your dear daughter, and I am his wife. Come +now," she coaxed, "you must admit that brings me near enough to call +you 'Uncle Wes.'" + +"You've got me, ma'am--Jenny. I give in, I throw up the fight. That +irrigation project now--Chuckie's brother can have anything of mine he +asks for. Only there's one thing--you've got to make that yearling say +'Granddad' when he talks to me." + +"O-oh!" cooed Genevieve. "To think you feel that way towards him! Of +course he shall say it. And I--Will you not allow me to make it +'Daddy'?" + +He could not resist her enticingly upturned lips. He brushed down his +bristly mustache, and bent over awkwardly, to kiss his new daughter. + +"Thought you were one of those super-high-toned ladies, m'm--Jenny," +he remarked. + +The cultured child of millions smiled up at him reproachfully. "What! +after I have been with you so long, Daddy? But it's true there was a +time--before Tom taught me that men cannot be judged by mere polish +and veneer, or the lack of polish and veneer." + +Isobel, all her doubts and fears allayed, had risen from the +precipice's edge in time to hear Genevieve's reply. She added eagerly: +"Nor should men be judged by what they have been if they have become +something else--if they have climbed up--up out of the depths!" + +"Belle! dear Sister Belle! Then he has proved it to you? Oh, I am so +glad for you! He has proved to you that he has climbed--to the +heights." + +"To the very heights! I must tell Daddy. Give me Thomas. See, he is +fast asleep, the poor abused little darling! Go and watch them, and +our climbers. They are going down like a string of mountain sheep." + +Genevieve placed the baby in his aunt's outstretched arms and went to +look into the abyss through the field glasses. Isobel drew her father +away, out of earshot of the down-peering group of men. She stopped +behind the tent, which Gowan had pitched part way up the slope of the +ridge. + +"You want to talk with me about Lafe, honey?" surmised Knowles, as the +girl started to speak and hesitated. + +Her cheeks flamed scarlet, but she raised her shyly lowered eyes and +looked up at him with a clear, direct gaze. "Yes, Daddy. He--he loves +me, and I--love him." + +"That so?" said Knowles. His eyes contracted. It was his only betrayal +of the wrench she had given the tender heart within his tough +exterior. "Well, I figured it was bound to come some day. I've been +lucky not to lose you any time the last four years." + +"You--you do not say anything about him, Daddy." + +"Haven't you cut him out of the herd?" he dryly replied. "That's +enough for me, long as I know he's your choice and is square." + +"He has nothing; he is very poor." + +"He's got the will to work. He'll get there, with you pushing on the +reins. That's how I size him up." + +"But, Daddy, he told me he had been bad, very bad." + +Knowles searched the girl's face, with a sudden up-leaping of +concern--that vanished as quickly before what he saw in her clear +eyes. + +"Might have expected it of you, honey. You stand by him. You've got +sense enough to know what it means when a man thinks enough of a girl +to tell her the wrong things he has done. I was wild, too, when I was +a youngster. There was a girl I thought enough of to tell. She wasn't +your kind, honey. It came near sending me to the devil for good. You +know better. No girl ought to be fool enough to hitch up with a man to +reform him. But if he has already taken a brace and straightened the +kinks out of himself, that's different." + +"He has come up, Daddy--out of the depths." + +Knowles only half caught her meaning. "Sure he climbed up. That proves +he has the grit and the nerve. He had proved that even better, going +down at the other place. Put any man down there, and he'd make a try +to get out. No, the real test was his going back down again. He might +have come up just for himself. But going down again--that's the proof +of what's in him; that's what proves he's white!" + +"Dear Daddy!... But I'm afraid. He thinks he has been too bad ever +to--to marry me. I'm so afraid he'll go away and leave me!" + +The cowman straightened up, his eyes glinting with righteous +indignation. + +"What! Go 'way and leave you?--when you want him to stay? By--James! +He's going to stay! Don't you worry, honey. He's going to stay, if I +have to rope and hogtie him for you!" + +The girl stared into the frowning face of her father. There was no +twinkle in the corner of his eyes. He was absolutely serious. For the +first time in over two days her dimples flashed. Her eyes sparkled +with merriment. Her lips parted. But she checked the gay laugh before +it could burst out. + +"Oh!" she reproached herself. "How could I? And they still down +there--and Tom suffering!" + +"Tom?" repeated Knowles. "Thomas Blake--your brother! That's why you +got me started reading all those reports and engineering journals. +You guessed it." + +"It did not seem possible. Yet I could not help hoping." + +"Things do happen our way--sometimes," qualified Knowles. "Mrs. +Blake--Jenny--says Lafe brought up word that the project can be put +through. I meant to fight. But now--he is your brother, and he has +done something no man ever before thought could be done--he has +surveyed Deep Canyon. He has me beat. I've told Mrs.--Jenny straight +out." + +"I know he will do what is right by you, dear, dear Daddy." + +"He's your brother, honey. That settles it." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +RECLAMATION + + +Even with the mutual assistance that they could give one another, and +with the certain knowledge that the descent was possible, the rescuers +had no easy task following the trail "broken" by Ashton. Their very +numbers prevented them from going down as fast as he had gone. On the +other hand, those on the upper part of the life-line could steady +their companions over ledges and down the steeper crevices, while the +leaders helped the ones who followed by hammering footholds in the +rock and at the very worst places driving in picket-pins to hold the +extra ropes brought down for the purpose. + +Still, Deep Canyon was Deep Canyon--the ladder it offered was a ladder +of Titans. Many long hours of waiting passed after the rescuing party +disappeared among the shadows less than a third of the way down the +steep-sloping precipices, before they came struggling upwards again +into view of the anxious watchers on the brink. The sun had circled +well over into the western sky. + +There was yet a thousand feet for the rescuers to clamber, hauling +and pushing up in their midst the heavy body of the injured engineer. +All during the first half of the ascent Blake had made the task as +easy as he could by the strenuous exertion of the great strength still +left in his arms and his sound leg. But at last the bandages that +bound his broken leg had chafed in two on the rough ledges; and even +his iron nerve had not long been able to withstand the torture of the +twisting break. + +He now dangled helpless in the sling by which they had secured him. +Half the time he was mercifully unconscious; the other half his jaw +was set rigid and his lips were compressed to stifle his groans of +agony. Whenever possible Ashton climbed beside him, striving to ease +the roughness of the ascent. + +A full hour before they reached the top, the thin-faced consumptive +surgeon arrived from Stockchute with his splints and medical case. +Waited upon by Isobel and Genevieve, he was fully recovered from the +exertion of his ride when at last the panting rescuers came toiling up +to the brink. + +Eager hands dragged the unconscious engineer to the top and carried +him to where the surgeon sat waiting. A few of the watchers lingered +to help the rescuers over the rim; then they, too, hurried away to see +if Blake had survived that terrible ascent. For the last two hundred +feet he had looked like a dead man. There was no cheering. Deep Canyon +had been conquered; but it was yet to be seen whether the victory had +not been won at a disastrous cost. + +The sheriff and his nine men sank down on the grassy slope, gasping, +outspent. Ashton collapsed in their midst. He was more than outspent; +he was utterly exhausted. The instant he had seen Blake lifted over +the rim-rock, he had given way to the strain of his frightful +exertions. When a man sent by Isobel came hurrying to the rescuers +with water and coffee, Ashton was unable to move or speak. The man had +to hold him up and pour the coffee down his throat. + +One by one, the sheriff and the others staggered up and went to join +the silent group about Blake. No one left that circle of watchers. +They were waiting for the result of the surgeon's efforts to +resuscitate the unconscious man. It was a desperate fight. But the +surgeon had won a place in the forefront of his profession before the +white plague had driven him from New York to this health-giving +wilderness. He knew all the latest, most wonderful methods of +resuscitation. And he had for assistants two who loved and were loved +by his patient. + +When at last the announcement was made that the engineer had come out +of his swoon and probably would live, the sheriff and all the members +of the posse not employes of Knowles prepared to ride down to Plum +Creek ranch for the night. The cowman ordered his men to go down with +the party, to water the horses and bring back food and water for the +camp. The surgeon had said that his patient could not be moved for +many days. + +But before the party rode off, each man, from the sheriff to the +youngest of the punchers, came to where Ashton was still lying on the +grass, and took his limp hand in theirs. They did not grip it, for the +tattered glove and shredded bandages were wet with blood; nor did they +put into speech what they thought of him. A gruff word or two of +fellowship and parting was all they gave him. Yet he saw and knew that +he had won his place among these reddest blooded of all red-blooded +men. + +When one of his fellow employes came to him, leading Rocket, he sought +to summon strength enough to rise, but found that he could not even +turn on his side. He had driven his body to superhuman efforts. He +must now pay the price. At his request, he was lifted up on Rocket, +but he could not hold up his head, much less his body. They laid him +again on the grass, and told Knowles his condition, before they rode +off. + +The cowman fetched the surgeon, who felt the pulse of the exhausted +man, gave him a pellet, and hastened back to Blake. In a few moments +Ashton's feeble, racing pulse became calm and slow, the wild whirl of +his thoughts lulled. He sank into profound slumber. + +When he awoke the sun of another day was just clearing the great white +peaks of the snowy range. He was outstretched on a soft bed of +blankets spread over a thick layer of pine needles. Above his face +sloped the roof of a small tent. He had been cared for--but there was +no one watching at his bedside. He thought he understood, and smiled +in bitter resignation. + +When he moved, racking pains shot through his stiff muscles. Only the +renewed life that surged through his veins enabled him to turn and +twist and bend until the pains subsided to a dull aching and he was +able to command his limbs. His hands were swathed fast in bandages. He +tore them off with his teeth until the fingers were free enough for +use. After much effort, he succeeded in forcing his swollen feet into +his boots. + +In the midst Yuki, the Jap cook, appeared before the low entrance of +the tent and sank down on his knees to set a trayful of food beside +the occupant. He hissed a pleasant, "Good morning, Mistah Lafe!" and +was gone before Ashton could reply. The aroma of hot coffee and the +savory smell of chicken broth forced Ashton to forget all else than +that he was famished. Besides the coffee and broth, there was a nogg +of eggs and thick cream slightly flavored with whiskey. He drank one +liquid after the other with the greediness of a starving man; nor did +he stop until he had drained the last drop of all three. He could have +followed with a hearty meal of solids, but the fluids were enough to +stimulate him to renewed energy. + +He crept out of his tent and looked around. Up where they had carried +Blake from the precipices stood a larger tent. Near it, under a +low-growing pine, the surgeon lay rolled in a blanket, fast asleep. +Some distance away, in the other direction, Yuki and two of the ranch +hands were building a stone fireplace. Beyond them were picketed three +horses, the nearest of which was Rocket. + +Ashton stood up and started rapidly towards the big rawboned horse. +Within a few yards, however, his pace slackened. He faltered and +stopped to look back at the larger tent. After a pause, he turned +about and slowly approached the tent. + +As he drew near he heard a murmur of voices barely distinguishable +above the booming of the canyon. Again he faltered and stopped and +stood hesitating. The open front of the tent faced at right angles to +his line of approach. As he hesitated, he saw Isobel's head appear, +veiled in the loose meshes of her chestnut hair. She looked about +towards him, and drew back with a startled little cry. + +He turned away to go to Rocket. A quick heavy step sounded behind him. +Knowles had sprung out of the tent and was striding to overtake the +retreating man. + +"Hold on, Lafe," he ordered. "Where you going?" + +Ashton faced him with quiet resolution. His eyes were dark with +misery, but his once lax mouth was strangely like Blake's in its firm +full lines. + +"There's only one thing for me to do, Mr. Knowles," he replied. "I am +going away. Your daughter will understand why." + +"How're you going?" asked the cowman, his face impassive. + +"I traded with Miss--Miss Knowles for Rocket. Didn't she ever tell +you?" + +"Don't matter if she did. Rocket wasn't her hawss to trade." + +"Then, unless my pony is up here, I shall walk down as far as the +ranch," said Ashton. He added with bitter humiliation: "It's well I +have learned about Rocket in time. I've done enough, without adding +horse thief to the list. I would have started at once, but I could not +leave until I had asked about Mr. Blake. I wished to thank him for all +that he has done for me." + +"All that he--!" echoed Knowles. "If you want to know, it was a mighty +narrow squeak. But we pulled him through. He's awake now and says he's +doing fine. He wants to talk to you." + +"I should like very much to do as he wishes, Mr. Knowles, but +I--cannot bear to--meet her. You may realize that it is hard enough at +best." + +"_Sho!_ If that's all," readily reassured the cowman, "I'll ask +Chuckie to go out and hide in the bushes." + +"But I could not allow that, you know." + +"Then I figure you've got to come anyhow. Can't let you go off without +saying good-by to him and Jenny." + +"Jenny?" repeated Ashton. + +"It's all in the family now," explained Knowles. "Tom has been telling +us how he's got that irrigation project all figured out in his head. +He was saying what he and Jenny had planned to do for us even before +Chuckie let out her secret. Come on and hear the rest." + +"I fear I must ask you to excuse me, Mr. Knowles. I--" + +"No, you don't," rejoined the cowman. "After what you've done you +can't make me believe you're afraid of anything. You'll come and face +it out before you go." + +The misery in Ashton's eyes deepened, and his lips tightened. + +"Very well. Since you put it that way, I shall do as you wish, sir." + +When he followed Knowles around to the door of the tent, Isobel, who +was hastily braiding her loose hair, drew back into the far corner and +averted her face from him. But Genevieve met him with a radiant smile +and motioned him to kneel down beside her husband. + +Blake, with one thick arm crooked about his sleeping son, lay with his +eyes closed. His big square face was drawn and pallid, but there was a +smile lurking in the corners of his mouth. As Ashton knelt beside him +he looked up and lifted his free hand. + +"You wouldn't take it--down there," he said. + +Ashton flushed. "You know why." + +"You'll take it now," said Blake, with quiet confidence. + +"I will. I am going away," replied Ashton as he held out his bandaged +hand. + +The big palm closed over it in a clasp as gentle as it was strong. + +"No, Lafe. I've got hold of you now. I can't let you go. I need you in +my business. We're organizing the Belle Mesa Irrigation and +Development Company.--How do you like my new name for Dry Mesa? Mr. +Knowles puts in the reservoir site in exchange for water on his other +land, a tenth share in the company, and a royalty of half the gold we +placer out of the reservoir bed. As Jenny is to put up all the +capital, she and I will take the lion's share. That will leave a tenth +for you and a tenth for Belle." + +Ashton sought to draw his hand away. "It is very good of you, Mr. +Blake. But I cannot accept--" + +"Yes, you can. You can't help yourself. Besides, I've an idea a man +always does better by his work when he has a stake in the undertaking. +You're to be our Resident Engineer, you know." + +"Resident Engineer?" repeated Ashton, paling and flushing. "Mr. Blake, +I--I--It's impossible that you can mean--" + +"Make it 'Tom'! You'll have to brush up on mining engineering, too. +There's the bonanza." + +"Oh, yes, Tom!" exclaimed Genevieve. "Tell him about the gold mine." + +"I was going to keep still about it till I had the apex located," he +said. He looked full at Ashton. "But there's no one here that the +secret will not be as safe with as it is with me. Besides, it's all in +the family. I found the vein a thousand feet up the chute of Dry Fork +Gulch. We will name it the Genevieve Lode. There are six of us here, +counting Tommy. Each of us gets a sixth interest." + +Ashton was now pale. "Mr. Blake--Tom, I cannot! If I were fit to stay +and work for you--as an axman--anything!--" + +Blake's eyes twinkled. "Then your sixth will have to go to Belle." + +"Mine too, Tom," hastily put in Knowles. + +Blake looked down solemnly at his youthful heir. "Hear that, Tommy? +Guess we'll have to pull out, too, and make it half and half to the +ladies." He looked up at Ashton with a swift change from mock to real +gravity. "We've got to begin by installing a turbine power-plant down +here. Where will I find another engineer with nerve enough to go down +these cliffs? I need you, Lafe." + +"I am very sorry, Tom." Ashton drew his hand from Blake's wearied +clasp, and rose. + +Isobel slipped past him and stood with her arms outstretched across +the entrance of the tent. There was a dimple in each of her blushing +cheeks; her eyes were radiant with tenderness and love. + +"No, you can't get away!" she declared. "Don't you see how we've got +you corralled?" + +"That's what," confirmed Knowles. "I promised her to rope and hogtie +you if you made a break." + +Ashton was gazing into the girl's eyes, his own shining with reverent +adoration. + +"Isobel?" he whispered. + +"Let us go up on the ridge and look out over our mesa," she murmured. + +"Wait a moment, dear," interposed Genevieve. "Lafayette, I wish to +tell you that as soon as Tom and I return to Chicago, we shall go to +your father. I feel certain that when he hears--" + +"No, no!" begged Ashton. "You must wait. Promise that you will wait. I +have only begun to make a beginning. Wait until I see if I can--" He +straightened and looked at Isobel, his head well up, his eyes as +resolute as his mouth. "Wait until I have proved what I am." + +"Come," said Isobel. "We're going to look at our dry mesa that we are +to reclaim and make into a garden with the waste waters of the +depths." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUT OF THE DEPTHS*** + + +******* This file should be named 29131.txt or 29131.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/1/3/29131 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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