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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34129-8.txt b/34129-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1371d27 --- /dev/null +++ b/34129-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8161 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Trail of Conflict, by Emilie Baker Loring + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Trail of Conflict + + +Author: Emilie Baker Loring + + + +Release Date: October 24, 2010 [eBook #34129] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT*** + + +E-text prepared by Darleen Dove, Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT + +by + +EMILIE LORING + + + + + + + +Publishers +Grosset & Dunlap +New York + +Copyright 1922 by the Penn Publishing Company + +By Arrangement with Little, Brown & Company + +Made in the U. S. A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I + + CHAPTER II + + CHAPTER III + + CHAPTER IV + + CHAPTER V + + CHAPTER VI + + CHAPTER VII + + CHAPTER VIII + + CHAPTER IX + + CHAPTER X + + CHAPTER XI + + CHAPTER XII + + CHAPTER XIII + + CHAPTER XIV + + CHAPTER XV + + CHAPTER XVI + + CHAPTER XVII + + CHAPTER XVIII + + CHAPTER XIX + + CHAPTER XX + + CHAPTER XXI + + CHAPTER XXII + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"That is your ultimatum, Glamorgan? My boy for your girl or you scoop up +my possessions and transfuse them into yours?" + +Peter Courtlandt tapped the arm of his chair nervously as he regarded +the man who sat opposite in front of the fire. The two men were in +striking contrast. Courtlandt seemed a component part of the room in +which they sat, a room which with its dull, velvety mahogany, its costly +Eastern rugs, its rare old portraits and book-lined walls, proclaimed +generations of ancestors who had been born to purple and fine linen. He +was spare and tall. His features might have served as the model for the +portrait of Nelson in the Metropolitan Museum. His eyes were darkly +luminous, the eyes of a dreamer; his white hair curled in soft rings +over his head; his hands were long and patrician. Glamorgan was built on +the Colossus plan, large head, heavy features into which the elements +had ground a dull color, a huge body without the least trace of fat. +Only his eyes were small. They looked as though they had been forgotten +until the last moment, as though the designer had then hastily poked +holes beneath the Websterian brows to insert two brilliant green beads. +He was a handsome man in a clean-souled, massive way; moreover he looked +to be a person who would crash through obstacles and win out by sheer +persistence. + +He flung the remains of his cigar into the fire as he answered +Courtlandt. With the cushion-tipped fingers of his large hands spread +upon his knees he bent forward and fixed his interrogator with his +emerald gaze. + +"That statement sounds raw but it's true. I've been playing my cards for +what you call a scoop for some time. Fifty years ago my mother brought +her family from Wales to this country. We had come from the coal region. +Coal was all the older children knew, so we drifted to Pennsylvania. +Until I was seventeen I picked coal. Occasionally I saw the stockholders +who came to inspect the mines. One day your father brought you. You +passed me as though I were a post, but right then and there I learned +the difference between mere money and money with family behind it. That +day I laid my plans for life. I'd make money, Lord, how I'd pile it up; +I'd cut out the dissipations of my kind, I'd marry the most refined girl +who'd have me, and I'd have one of my children, at least, marry into a +family like yours. My grandchildren should have ancestors who counted. +Well, I got the girl. She had good Virginia stock behind her. Geraldine +was born and after five years Margaret, and then my wife died. I began +to pile. I denied myself everything but books, that my girls could be +fitted to fill the position I was determined they should have. I----" + +Peter Courtlandt's clear, high-bred voice interrupted. There was a trace +of amusement in his tone: + +"Did you never think that your daughters might develop plans of their +own? That they might refuse to be disposed of so high-handedly?" + +"Margaret may, but Jerry won't. Since she was a little thing she's been +brought up with the idea of marrying for social position; she knows that +my heart is set on it. Why, I used to visit her at school dressed in my +roughest clothes, that the difference between me and the other fathers +would soak in thoroughly. Oh well, smile. I acknowledge that the idea is +an obsession with me; every man has some weak joint; that's mine. I'll +say for Jerry that she never once flinched from owning up to me as hers. +I've seen the color steal to her eyes when I appeared in my rough +clothes, but she'd slip her hand into mine, for all the world as though +she were protecting me, cling tight to it, and introduce me to her +friends. The girls and teachers loved her, or she couldn't have got away +with it. Her friends were among the best at college. Oh, she'll marry to +please me. Even if she didn't want to, she'd do it to give Peg a chance; +she's crazy about her, but I know her, she won't go back on her old Dad. +Besides, Courtlandt, I have a firm conviction that a person can put +through any worthy thing on which he is determined. How else do you +account for the seeming miracles men got away with in the World War? The +test is, how much do you want it? I've gone on that principle all my +life, and it's worked, I tell you, it's worked!" + +He waved away the box of cigars Courtlandt offered and pulled a +vicious-looking specimen of the weed from his pocket. He stuck it +between his teeth before he resumed: + +"After I left the coal-mines I beat it to Texas, got an option on land +there and began to make my pile in the oil-fields. I worked like a slave +days and studied nights. I didn't mean to give Jerry cause to be ashamed +of her Dad when she did land. Then I set my lawyer to looking up the +affairs of the Courtlandt family. I found that you had a boy, handsome, +upstanding and decent. I had him well watched, I assure you. I wasn't +throwing Jerry away on a regular guy even if I was stuck on your +family. I found also that your money was getting scarcer than hen's +teeth. I took the mortgage on this house, on every piece of property in +your estate. I knew when the boy chucked his law course and went into +the army. I had him watched while he was overseas and I know that he +came through that seething furnace of temptation straight. On the day +your boy marries my girl and brings her to this house to live I'll turn +your property over to you free and clear. It is in fine condition and +will give you a handsome income. It won't be sufficient for you and the +young people to live as I want to see them, but I'll take care of that. +You've known me now for three months. You know that I'm absolutely on +the level in my business dealings. What say?" + +Courtlandt rose impetuously and stood with his back to the fire, one arm +resting on the carved mantel. + +"Good Lord, man, I'm not the one to say. It isn't my life that's being +tied up. This property can go to the----" he stopped, and looked about +the beautiful room. He stared for a moment at the portrait of a +seventeenth century Courtlandt which hung opposite, then up at the +beautiful face of the woman in the painting set like a jewel in the dark +paneling above the mantel. Her eyes looked back at him, gravely, +searchingly. His voice was husky as he added quickly, "I'll talk with +Steve to-night and if he----" + +Glamorgan nodded approvingly. + +"I'm glad you named him Stephen. It was Stephanus Courtlandt whose +estate was erected into the lordship and manor of Courtlandt by William +the third, wasn't it? You see I know your family history backward. I +never buy a pig in a poke," with rough frankness. He rose and stretched +to his great height. The man watching him thought of the Russian bear +which had roused and shaken himself with such tragic results. "Why don't +you and Steve run in town to-night and have supper with Jerry and me +after the theatre?" + +"Thank you; if Steve has no engagement we will." + +Glamorgan thrust his hands deep into his pockets and glowered at the man +by the mantel. + +"I'll leave you now to deal with him. You might mention to Steve the +fact that if he refuses my offer I foreclose within forty-eight hours." + +The blood rushed to Courtlandt's face as though it would burst through +the thin, ivory skin. He touched a bell, his voice was cold with +repression as he answered the threat: + +"I'll talk with Stephen this evening. Judson, Mr. Glamorgan's coat," to +the smooth-haired, smooth-faced, smooth-footed butler who answered the +ring. + +The big man paused a moment, his little green eyes flames of suspicion. + +"You'll let me hear from you to-morrow? No shilly-shallying, mind. A +straight 'Yes' or 'No.'" + +"A straight 'Yes' or 'No' to-morrow it is, Glamorgan. Good-night! +Judson, when Mr. Stephen comes in ask him to come to me here." + +After his guest had departed Courtlandt snapped off the lights and +plunged the room in darkness save for the soft glow from the blazing +logs. He sank into a wing-chair before the fire and rested his head on +his thin hand. What a mess he had made of things. He had lost his +inheritance, not through extravagance, but because he had not been +enough of a business man to steer his financial ship clear of reefs +during the last years of swiftly shifting values. To have the Courtlandt +property swept away! It was impossible. He didn't care for himself but +for Steve and Steve's children. He was a liar! He did care for himself. +It would break his heart to have this old home, which had been the +manor, fall into the hands of an erstwhile coal-picker. The town house +was different. The location of that had followed the trail of fashion, +it had no traditions, but this----He rose and paced the floor then +returned to his old place before the mantel and listened. There was the +sound of whistling in the hall, virile, tuneful, the sort that brings a +smile to the lips of the most sophisticated. "The Whistling Lieut.!" +Courtlandt remembered Steve had been called in the army. He dropped his +head to his extended arm and stared unseeingly down at the flames. What +would he say----? + +"Holloa, Sir Peter! Fire-worshiping?" a clear voice called buoyantly. +"You're as dark in here as though you expected an air-raid. Let's light +up and be cheerio, what say?" The speaker pressed a button and flooded +the room with soft light. "Judson said you wanted me. Shall I stay now +or come back when I've changed?" + +Courtlandt senior straightened and looked at his son with the appraising +eyes of a stranger. He admitted to himself regretfully that the boy +looked older than his twenty-seven years. He was tall and lean and +lithe, not an ounce of superfluous flesh on him. He stood with his feet +slightly apart, a golf-bag dragging from one arm, his other hand in his +coat pocket. His black hair had a rebellious kink, his eyes were dark +blue, his nose clean-cut, his lips and chin hinted at a somewhat +formidable strength of purpose. Courtlandt's courage oozed as he +regarded those last features. + +"I--I merely wanted to ask you to give me this evening, Steve. +I--I--well, there's business to be talked over." + +The son looked back at his father. A slight frown wrinkled his broad +forehead. He started to speak, then lifted the golf-bag and went toward +the door. + +"The evening is yours, Sir Peter." + +His father listened till his whistle trailed off into silence in the +upper regions. His dark eyes clouded with regret. Steve had adapted his +selection to dirge tempo. + +As father and son smoked and drank their coffee in front of the library +fire after dinner, Peter Courtlandt found it even more difficult to +approach the distasteful subject. He talked nervously of politics, labor +conditions and the latest play. His son watched him keenly through +narrowed lids. He emptied and filled his pipe thoughtfully as he waited +for a break in his father's flood of words. When it came he dashed in. + +"What's the business you wanted to talk with me about, Sir Peter? Fire +away and let's get it over. Anything wrong?" + +The elder man bent forward to knock the ashes from his cigar. The +gravity of Steve's "Sir Peter" had moved him curiously. It was the name +his wife had called him, which the boy had adopted when he was too +grown-up to say "Daddy." Silent seconds lengthened into minutes as he +sat there. The quiet of the room was subtly portentous. There was a hint +of unsteadiness in his voice when he finally spoke. + +"It's all wrong, Steve. Everything we have is mortgaged to the +gunwales." + +"But I thought----" The end of the sentence was submerged in stunned +amazement. + +"That we couldn't go broke? Well, we have. We lose everything we have +to-morrow unless----" He dropped his head on his hand. + +"Unless what?" prompted Steve. + +Courtlandt leaned his white head against the back of his chair and +looked at his son with haggard eyes. His voice was strained, humiliated. + +"Unless--unless you marry Glamorgan's daughter." + +"What!" + +The exclamation brought Steve Courtlandt to his feet. The color surged +to his dark hair then ebbed slowly back again. His lips whitened. + +"Look here, Sir Peter, you don't know what you're saying! You've +forgotten that we are living in the twentieth century. Marry Glamorgan's +daughter! I've never seen her. I didn't know the old piker had a +daughter. What does he know about me? I've never spoken to him more +than twice and then when I couldn't help it. I don't like him, +he's----" + +"Sit down, Steve. Stop raging up and down the room. I want to tell you +all about it." + +The younger man flung the cigarette he had just lighted into the red +coals and dropped into a chair. He kept his eyes on the fading, flaring +lights of the fire as his father told of his interview with Glamorgan. +The muscles of his jaw tightened, his blue eyes smoldered as he +listened. + +"What sort of a girl would let herself be traded like that?" he demanded +when his father paused. + +"That is for you to find out, Steve. I started to have Judson turn the +Welshman out of the house after he made his astounding proposition, to +tell him to go to the devil--then I thought of you. That I had no right +to fling away your inheritance without giving you a voice in the matter. +The Courtlandts have held some of the property since the first of the +family came from Holland in the seven----" + +"Oh, I know all about those old boys; it is what their descendant is up +against that's worrying me. Have you tried Uncle Nick?" + +The slow color tinged Peter Courtlandt's face. + +"Yes. I've appealed to Nicholas Fairfax twice. But you know as well as I +that he has never forgiven your mother and me for not letting him have +you six months out of every year. He contended that as you, the only son +of his sister, were to be his heir, he should have an equal share in +bringing you up. Your mother and I couldn't see it that way and so----" + +"But I spent every summer there until I went overseas--and, oh boy, how +I worked. While my pals were vacationing I was ranching, and ranching +under Old Nick is no vacation. I'm as capable of running the Double O +now as Ranlett is. Lord, the nights I've come in so stiff that I'd fall +on the bed with my boots on. I'd got to shoot and rope, ride and +round-up, drive a tractor, know the difference in the quality of the +wheat-seed and the grades of cattle. Nick wasn't contented with my doing +things as well as his outfit, I'd got to go them one better. But I loved +the life and I'll confess that I love Old Nick in spite of his fool +ideas." + +"I'll try him once more, Steve--but----" + +"I'll be darned if you will. Isn't there some other way we can raise +money until I----" + +"My boy, what can you do? What can you earn at present? You finished +your law course after you came out of the army, but it will be several +years, as times are now, before you can more than support yourself." + +"You don't think I'd touch a penny of the old coal-picker's money even +if I married the daughter, do you?" interrupted Steve furiously. "I'd +break stones in the road first. Look here, be honest now, what would you +do if we lost this place?" + +"Blow my brains out," with passionate impulsiveness; then as he saw his +son's face whiten and his jaw set, he realized the effect of his words. +"No, no, Steve, of course I didn't mean that. The Courtlandts have never +been quitters. I swear I wouldn't break the record. Forget that +sob-stuff. You and I would go somewhere together and I--perhaps I'll +keep younger if I have less leisure." + +"When are you to give Glamorgan his answer?" Steve seemed the elder of +the two now, seemed to have taken the reins into his hands. + +"To-morrow." + +"To-morrow! Before the girl sees me? Before she has been given a chance +to decide whether the encumbrance which goes with the name and social +position is worth her thirty pieces of silver?" + +"Try not to be bitter, Steve. Remember that when a big man has an +obsession it's in proportion to his bigness, and you'll have to admit +that Glamorgan's a giant in his world. You have a chance to see the girl +before to-morrow. Her father suggested that we run in for supper with +them to-night after the theatre. I have a feeling that the daughter is +willing to sacrifice herself to make the great dream of her father's +life come true, just as you are willing to sacrifice yourself for +me--no, don't deny it,"--as his son impetuously opened his lips. "I +haven't lived with you for twenty-seven years without knowing some of +your mental processes, my boy. If it were only myself I'd tell Glamorgan +to go to the devil, but the property will be yours after me and your +children----" + +Steve interrupted with a short laugh. + +"My children! It's going some to make a mess of my life for prospective +children. Take it from me, they'll keep on playing with the angels for +some time yet." + +"Then don't make a mess of your life. Is--is there any other girl? Are +you in love, Steve?" + +His son thrust his hands hard into the pockets of his dinner coat. + +"I've never been swept off my feet at the sight of a girl's face, if you +mean that according-to-fiction stuff. Before I went across I thought +Felice Peyton----" + +"Felice! But she married Phil Denbigh while you were away and now----" +He stopped in perturbed realization of what had happened. + +"And now they've separated and Felice is cynical and hard. I know that. +I never really approved of her in my heart, her ideas, her ideals--oh +well, she hasn't any; she wouldn't recognize an ideal if it tapped her +on the shoulder. Her plan of life wasn't mine, but somehow I was +eternally tagging after her. Moth and candle stuff, I suppose." + +Courtlandt stared into the fire for a moment before he raised his head +and looked at his son. + +"We won't go on with this, Steve. It's taking too many chances. I'll +tell Glamorgan in the morning that he can foreclose and be----" + +"No you won't, at least not until we have met the daughter. Have +you ever seen her?" then as his father shook his head, "I'll give +you a close-up of the lady. Amazon variety--look at the size of +Glamorgan--little eyes, prominent teeth, a laugh that would raise the +dead and, oh boy,--I'll bet she's kittenish." He glanced at the tall +clock in the corner. "I'll tell Judson to have the sedan brought round. +We'll have just time to array ourselves for the sacrifice, and motor to +town before the theatres are out." + +As the older man's eyes, turbulent with affection and anxiety met his, +he exclaimed with a sporting attempt at a laugh: + +"I'll bet a hat, sir, that when the lady sees you nothing short of being +the Mrs. Courtlandt will satisfy her soaring ambition. She won't stand +for being merely Mrs. Stephen. By the way, what's the prospect's name?" + +"Geraldine. Her father calls her Jerry." Courtlandt senior laughed for +the first time that evening. "That's a great idea of yours, Steve. I +hadn't thought of offering myself. Perhaps as she only wants the name +and position she'd take me and let you off. Your mother would +understand," with a tender smile at the woman over the mantel. Her +lovely eyes seemed to answer his. For an instant a look of unutterable +yearning saddened the man's eyes--then he straightened and looked at his +son. + +"But no, Glamorgan expressly stipulated that he'd have you for a +son-in-law or----" + +The light died out of Stephen Courtlandt's face as he muttered furiously +under his breath: + +"Glamorgan be hanged!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The telephone in the luxurious living-room of their suite rang sharply +as Daniel Glamorgan and his daughter entered. The girl looked at the +instrument as though she suspected a concealed bomb in its mysterious +depths, then appealingly at her father. He took down the receiver. + +"Yes. All right. Send them up." He replaced it with a click. His grim +mouth softened into a self-congratulatory smile. "Courtlandt and his son +are down-stairs," he announced. "Did you order supper, Jerry?" + +"Yes, Dad. The table is laid in the breakfast-room. Leon will serve it +when you ring. I'll--I'll go to my room and leave my wrap." + +His green eyes dilated with pride as he regarded her. + +"You look like a princess to-night, my girl." + +"I feel like a princess. They're usually disposed of to a title or some +little thing like that, aren't they?" she asked with a laugh which held +a sob of terror. + +"Look here, Jerry. You're not losing your nerve? You're not going back +on me, are you?" + +She met his eyes squarely. + +"I am not, Dad. The fewer ancestors one has behind one the better +ancestor one must make of oneself. When I make a promise I make it to +keep. I promised you that if Stephen Courtlandt asked me to marry him +I'd say 'Yes.'" + +Glamorgan's eyes glistened with satisfaction. + +"You have the right idea, Jerry. Here they are now," as the bell rang. + +"You meet them. I'll take off my wrap--I'll----" In sudden panic the +girl entered her room and closed the door behind her. She leaned against +it. Her heart beat like mad. In the process of making the dream of her +father's life come true was she wrecking her own life? But he had been +such a wonderful father--and--to be honest with herself, the romance and +tradition and social standing of the Courtlandt name made an alluring +appeal to her. She had envied friends at school and college for their +careless references to their grandfathers; her earliest recollection was +of a room full of hot, grimy miners in a little home near the +coal-fields. To marry into the Courtlandt family in America would be +commensurate with marrying into a dukedom in England. She breathed a +fervent prayer of thanksgiving that her father's ambition hadn't urged +him in that direction, also that character had counted with him before +social position when he selected his prospective son-in-law. + +Her shimmering wrap dropped to the floor as she crossed to her +dressing-table and gravely appraised her reflection in the mirror. Was +the girl staring so intently back at her fitted to preside over the +Courtlandt Manor? She tested every detail of her appearance. Her orchid +evening gown set off her arms and the curves of her white shoulders to +perfection. Her hair was of glistening brown, brown shot through with +red and gold where its soft waves caught the light. Her eyes were brown, +large and dark and velvety, like deep pools reflecting a myriad tiny +gold stars now when she was deeply moved and excited. Her mouth seemed +fashioned for laughter. The lips were vivid and exquisitely curved, and +when they smiled a deep dimple dented one cheek. Her ringless hands were +slender and beautifully formed. + +"Dad says that you have Mother to thank for your hands," she told the +looking-glass girl. She lingered before the mirror, aimlessly moving the +gold and enameled appointments on the dressing-table. She dreaded to +enter the next room. Her life might be changed for all time, doubtless +would be, for she would marry Stephen Courtlandt if he wanted to save +his estate enough to take her on her own conditions. She flushed then +whitened. Perhaps he wouldn't want her after all. Well, that would soon +be settled. Better to have the awkward meeting over as soon as possible. +She picked up a large feather fan that was a shade deeper than her gown. +As she touched it she felt armed for any contingency, and not without +reason, for a fan in the hands of a beautiful woman is as effective as a +machine-gun directed by an expert rifleman. Jerry swept her vis-à-vis a +profound courtesy. + +"I'll say you'll do, Mrs. Stephen Courtlandt," she encouraged with gay +inelegance. The laugh still lingered on her lips and lurked in her eyes +as she entered the living-room. + +The three men who had been looking into the fire turned. The girl's +heart went out to the elder Courtlandt in a rush of sympathy. His head +was so high, his face so white, his eyes so full of hurt pride. The +younger man's face was quite as white, his head quite as high, but there +was an aggressive set to lips and jaw, a mixture of amazement and +antagonism in his eyes, then something else flamed there which she +couldn't diagnose as easily. + +"He looks stunned. What did he expect, the pig-faced lady?" the girl +thought contemptuously even as she advanced with extended hand and +smiled up at the elder Courtlandt. + +"Mr. Courtlandt, you seem like an old friend, my father has spoken of +you so often," she welcomed in her charming, well-bred voice which had a +curiously stimulating lilt in it. + +The color rushed back to Peter Courtlandt's face, the expression in his +eyes changed to one of relief and honest admiration as he bent over her +hand. + +"I realize now how much I have lost in not accepting your father's +invitation to call before. Will you permit me to present my son, +Stephen?" + +Jerry crushed down an hysterical desire to laugh. It was so ridiculous, +the casual, pleased-to-meet-you attitude of the three persons whom her +father was moving at his will about the checker-board of life. She +murmured something in which the words "a pleasure" were alone audible. +Steve acknowledged them stiffly. Her eyes met his with their faint +scornful smile which she felt masked so much. They held hers for a +second before she turned to her father. + +"Shall we go out to supper?" With engaging camaraderie she slipped her +hand under Peter Courtlandt's arm. The expression of his eyes when they +had first met hers had won her tender heart. "We'll let the younger set +follow us," she laughed. He shook his head. + +"I defy Steve to feel as young as I feel now," he asserted with a +gallant promptness which delighted her. + +At supper she devoted herself to him. He laughed and jested with her and +but for his white hair looked almost as young as his son. Steve, angered +by her persistent avoidance of himself, broke into their conversation +with a banality which caused his father to look at him in amazed +incredulity. + +"Are you enjoying New York, Miss Glamorgan?" + +Jerry regarded him for a moment from under long lashes before, with a +smile which she was sure made him want to shake her, she answered: + +"Immensely; but this is not my first winter in the city. Dad and I have +made our headquarters here since I grew up." She turned to his father, +but Steve refused to be ignored. + +"Do you like it?" + +"Like it? I love it! It's so big, so beautiful and--and--and so faulty," +her pose of indifference had fallen from her like a discarded veil; she +was all eager enthusiasm. "I--I like to be where there are many people. +I would starve for companionship, not food, in the wilderness." Steve +raised his brows and smiled unsmilingly. + +"Then you believe in love?" + +The color burned over her face to her scornful eyes. "He is willing to +marry for money yet he dares sneer at me about love," she thought +angrily, even as she looked up and deliberately studied him. She +laughed a gay little, mocking laugh. + +"Believe in love? Of course I believe in love; don't you? But what an +absurd question to ask. As though you would champion the tender +passion." She saw his eyes darken and his jaw set before she turned to +his father. She was contrite, a little frightened. What had possessed +her to antagonize him like that? A poor way to begin a partnership which +she had hoped would develop into a real friendship. + +"Jerry, take Steve into the living-room and give us some music. Mr. +Courtlandt and I will smoke here," commanded Glamorgan, as his servant, +who fairly exuded efficiency, passed cigars and cigarettes. + +"Perhaps--perhaps he would prefer to stay here and smoke," the girl +suggested hurriedly, for the first time losing her poise. She caught a +glint of challenge in Stephen's eyes and rose. Her color was high, her +breath a bit uneven as she smiled at him with bewildering charm. "After +all, why should I make suggestions? You are quite old enough to decide +what you want to do yourself, aren't you?" + +"Yes. Quite old enough and quite ready to decide for myself," he +answered as he stood aside for her to precede him into the living-room. +"Do you play or sing?" he asked as he followed her to the piano. The +instrument looked as though it were loved and used. It was her turn to +be a trifle scornful. + +"I play and sing. Does it seem incredible that I should?" She seated +herself and dropped her hands in her lap. "Shall I play for you?" + +"Please." He leaned his arms on the piano and looked down at her, but +she realized that his thoughts were not following his eyes. "I am not in +the least musical, but we had a chap in our company overseas who could +make the most shell-shocked instrument give out what seemed to us in the +midst of that thundering inferno, heavenly music. Sometimes now a wave +of longing for the sound of a piano sweeps over me, played by someone +who loves music as that boy loved it. Do you know--Schumann's +'Papillions'? That was one of his favorites." + +For answer she played the first bar of the exquisite thing. Once she +glanced up. The eyes of the man leaning on the piano, not blue now, but +dark with memories, were an ocean removed from her. It was a minute +after the last note was struck before they came back to her face. He +drew a long breath. + +"Thank you," he said simply, but his tone was better than a paean of +praise. Then the softness left his eyes. There was aggressiveness and a +hint of irony in his voice as he said stiffly: + +"My--my father has given me to understand that you will do me the honor +to marry me." + +A passion of anger shook the girl. She valiantly forced back the tears +which threatened, rose and faced him defiantly. Her slender fingers +smoothed out the long plumes of her fan. There should be no subterfuge +now, she determined, no cause for recrimination later. + +"Your father, doubtless, has told you also that my father is willing to +buy your name and social position for me with a portion of his fortune. +A sort of fifty-fifty arrangement, isn't it?" she added flippantly, with +the faintest flicker of her bronze-tipped lashes. Courtlandt shrugged. + +"If you wish to put it so crudely." + +She took a step back and clenched her hands behind her. Her beautiful +eyes were brilliant with scorn, her heart pounded. It seemed as though +it must visibly shake her slender body as she answered: + +"Why not? If we speak the truth now it may save complications later. You +know that my father wants me to marry you and--and why. I frankly +confess that I sympathize with his ambitions. I want the best of life in +my associations. Your father is in difficulties of one sort--my father +is in difficulties of another sort--if a lack of family background can +be called a difficulty--and it appears that with our help they can +accommodate one another. I'd do anything for Dad--he has done so much +for me." She set her teeth sharply in her under lip to steady it. + +"Then--then you are not afraid to marry without love?" His eyes were +inscrutable. + +"Without love? For the man I marry? No, not as long as I have no love +for any other. I might love a man when I married him, and then--love +comes unbidden, oftentimes unwanted and pouf!--it goes the way it came, +and no one can stop it. You know that yourself." + +"Not if it is real love, the love of a man for the one woman," he +defended. + +"Is there such a thing? I wonder?" skeptically. + +If he felt a temptation to retaliate he resisted it. + +"Then I may conclude that you accept me?" he prompted with frigid +courtesy. + +"Yes, that is----" a nervous sob caught at her voice. "If--if you will +agree to my conditions. Dad has promised me an income of a hundred +thousand a year. I will keep half of it in my possession, the other half +you are to have to use as you please." + +Courtlandt's eyes were black with anger, his knuckles white. He was +rough, direct, relentless as he answered: + +"You are indeed determined to make this a business affair. But +understand now that I won't touch one cent of your cursed money. +Whatever arrangement your father wants to make with you and my father is +his affair and yours, but you are to leave me out of it absolutely. +That's my condition. Do you get it?" + +"Yes, I get it." She colored richly, angrily, then paled. Even her lips +went white. "There is one thing more. I--we--this marriage is really a +bargain--money for social position. Let it be only that. Need there be +anything else? You must understand me--you must," in passionate appeal. +She laid her hand on his arm. He looked down at her with disconcerting +steadiness. His face was stern. + +"Yes, I understand. You mean a marriage stripped to its skeleton of +legal terms. No mutual responsibilities, no mutual sacrifices, no--no +love. That is for you to decide. The Courtlandt debt is far too great +for me not to accept any terms you may dictate. It shall be as you wish, +I--promise." + +Her brown eyes were brilliant with unshed tears as she held out an +impulsive hand. + +"Thank you. You make the arrangements seem bleak and sordid, but you +have given me back my self-respect. Now I feel that it is an honorable +bargain between us two. You are to be perfectly free to come and go as +you like, and I shall be free, too--but there is one thing I promise +you, I--I shall never harm the name I take." + +He looked down at the hand he held for an instant then released it. + +"I knew that when you came into the room to-night. Will you marry me +soon?" + +"Whenever you like. Will you--say good-night to your father for me? +I----" With a valiant effort to steady her lips, she smiled faintly, +opened the door of her room and closed it quickly behind her. + +Peter Courtlandt was the first to break the silence as father and son +motored home. He made an effort to speak lightly. + +"Well, my boy, your close-up was wrong. Geraldine Glamorgan has neither +prominent teeth, nor little eyes, nor a kittenish manner; in fact, I +don't know when I have seen so beautiful a girl so singularly free from +the barnacles of vanity and self-consciousness." + +"Kittenish!" his son repeated curtly. "She's far from kittenish. She's +an iceberg, and what's more she has the business instinct developed to +the nth degree. Believe me, she's a born trader." + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Geraldine Courtlandt slowed down her car to enter the river road. The +sun was setting in a blaze of crimson glory, a few belated birds winged +swiftly into the west. Lights on the opposite shore flickered for a +moment as they flashed into being, then shone with steady brilliancy. +Lights appeared on the few boats swinging at anchor in the quiet water. +Lights in house windows beaconed a steady welcome to home-comers. What +individuality there was in lights the girl thought. Those across the +river seemed entirely municipal and commercial, those on the boats +carried a silent warning, those in the windows seemed warmly human. + +The turmoil in Jerry's heart subsided. She had driven miles that +afternoon through the cold, exhilarating rush of December air, trying to +forget Steve's tone when he had refused her offer to drive him to town +that morning. Had she been married only a month? It seemed as though +centuries had passed since she and Steve had stood before the altar with +their few witnesses and exchanged marriage vows. She shivered. If she +had realized how irrevocable they were, their solemn admonition, would +she have had the courage to marry to please her father, she wondered. + +"And forsaking all others keep thee only unto him as long as ye both +shall live?" The question had echoed in every sound at the wedding +breakfast in her father's apartment; she had read it deep in Peggy's +eyes as they had met hers from across the room; it had kept time to the +revolution of the wheels as she and Steve had motored out to the Manor +in the late afternoon. Her lips twisted in a bitter little smile as she +remembered Sir Peter's tactful suppression of surprise when they had +told him that there would be no wedding journey. She and Steve had +decided that under the circumstances such a function would be nothing +short of farcical, besides he would not ask for leave from the office. +Sir Peter had quite suddenly decided to go on a hunting trip. + +The girl's brows wrinkled in a troubled frown. She knew now that she had +done a grave injustice to Steve, to herself, when she had consented to +her father's proposition. Well, the deed was done, her only course was +to turn her mistake into a stepping-stone toward ultimate good. That was +the one way to treat mistakes remedially, she had learned in her +twenty-three years. Repining proved nothing. + +"Every engaged couple ought to have the marriage service read aloud to +them at least once a week. That would give them pause," she murmured +with fervent conviction. She ground on her brake just in time to avoid +running down a "ROAD CLOSED. DETOUR" sign. The black letters on the +white board danced weirdly before her eyes for a moment. She must cure +herself of the reprehensible habit of driving with her mind miles away. +She turned into the side road and drove slowly. Detours were notoriously +rough even if they sometimes offered adventure, she thought whimsically. + +The upper windows of the Manor reflected the setting sun through +swaying, bare branches. They shone like molten mirrors as Jerry turned +into the tree-lined avenue which led to the house. At the foot of the +garden slope she caught the shimmer of the river. Already she loved the +place. The great house had "home" writ large all over it. It bulged, it +loomed, it rambled in unexpected places as though it had grown with the +family. And yet, in spite of the additions, it remained a choice example +of early architecture. It was as though a beneficent fairy, versed in +the arts, had presided over the alterations. + +As the girl entered the great hall, where logs blazed in the mammoth +fireplace, she had the sense of being enfolded in warm, tender arms. If +Steve would not be so frigidly courteous she could be quite happy, she +thought resentfully. At breakfast each morning during these interminable +weeks he had politely asked her preference for the evening. Should they +motor to town for the theatre, dance, what should they do? And she, +dreading to bore him more than he was already bored, and hating to face +the curious eyes of his world which had been set agog at their marriage, +had replied to each suggestion: + +"I prefer to remain in this lovely country, but please go yourself. I +really shouldn't be in the least lonely." + +He had refused to take advantage of her suggestion. Every night they +dined together with great formality, she in the loveliest frocks of her +hastily assembled trousseau, he in correct and immaculate dinner +clothes. The only time there seemed the least sympathy between them was +when she was at the piano, in the library, and Steve smoked in the big +chair in front of the fire. He kept so absolutely still, usually with +his eyes on his mother's portrait. Was he dreaming dreams, she wondered. +Had there been a girl without money whom he loved? Did he know what "the +love of a man for the one woman" meant? She should never forget the tone +in which he had asked that question. She was standing in the hall, her +coat off, when she thought of that. She shook herself mentally and +dragged her thoughts back to the present. She spoke to her trim maid who +came to take her coat: + +"Tell Judson to serve tea in the library, Hilda. I--I'm cold." + +She was half-way to the fireplace in the long room before she discovered +that the wing-chair in front of it was occupied, occupied by a queer, +elfish type of man who regarded her with a poorly suppressed snort of +disdain as she paused in surprise. The skin stretched over his high +cheek-bones till it shone like mellowing, yellowing ivory. His colorless +eyes glittered as with fever, his forehead reared to where his coarse +white hair brandished a sort of kewpie-curl. A black cape, of wool so +soft that it looked like velvet, lay across his thin, stooped shoulders. +From under its folds his hands protruded, clasped on the top of a stout +ebony stick. They were gnarled and distorted with rheumatism. His voice, +true to type, was high and slightly cracked as he spoke to the girl +after an instant of peeved scrutiny. + +"So--you're the new Mrs. Courtlandt, the lady of the Manor, are you? +You're the girl who has been traded in to save the family fortune?" + +The angry color flamed to Jerry's hair but she stood her ground. She +even managed to bestow a patronizing frown upon him. + +"Now I know who you are. No one but 'Old Nick' would be so rude. You +see your reputation has preceded you." She sank into the chair opposite +him and with elbow on its arm, chin on her hand, regarded him curiously. +She made a brilliant bit of color in the dark-toned room. The light from +the fire fell on her rose-color sports suit, brought out the sheen of +the velvet tam of the same shade, drooped picturesquely over one ear, +flickered fantastically on her white throat, set the diamonds in the pin +which fastened the dainty frills of her blouse agleam with rainbows and +played mad pranks with the circlet of jewels on the third finger of her +left hand. + +How ill and fragile he looked, the girl thought, pathetically fragile. +She had a passion of sympathy for the old. She would ignore his +rudeness. She leaned forward and smiled at him with gay friendliness. + +"Now that I have guessed who you are it's your turn. Tell me how you got +here. Did a magician wave his wand, and presto, an enchanted carpet, or +did you arrive via air-route? I am sorry that there was no one at the +Manor to welcome you. I was detained by one of those silly detours. Sir +Peter has been away but returns to-night, and Steve--did Steve know that +you were coming? Did--did he write you about--about me?" the last word +was added in an undignified whisper. + +"Steve! Do they ever let Steve tell me anything?" + +"Now I've done it, he's off!" Jerry thought with an hysterical desire to +laugh, he was so like an old war-horse scenting battle. + +"No. The first I knew of you was when Peter Courtlandt wrote that a +marriage had been arranged between the daughter of Glamorgan, the +oil-king, and Steve. Arranged! Stuff and nonsense! What poor fool +arranged it, I'd like to know? Hasn't Peter Courtlandt seen enough of +life to know that when a man who has nothing marries a girl with a large +fortune he's ruined? If he has any strength of character it turns to +gall, if he's a weak party, he gets weaker--it's hell--for a proud man. +Why didn't they give me a chance to save the family fortune? I'd have +done it if Steve had asked me, but I turned his father down--I wouldn't +give a penny to save him. Why--why that boy ought to have married +someone who'd count, not a once-removed coal-picker." + +Furious as she was at his insult, Jerry kept her temper. It was so +pathetically evident that he was old and disappointed and alarmingly +ill. However, there was a hint of Glamorgan's determination in her eyes +as she answered coolly: + +"You may say what you like about me, but I can't let you disparage my +father. He is the biggest thing in my life. After all, why should you +roar at me? Steve and I are not the first victims sacrificed on the +altar of pride of family and possessions, are we? Sentiment is quite out +of fashion. What passes for it is but a wan survival of the age of +romance and chivalry. Marriage in that strata of society to which I have +been lately elevated is like the Paul Jones at a dance, when the whistle +blows change partners--in the same set, if one should happen to go out +of it, pandemonium, quickly followed by oblivion." + +If he was conscious of the sting of sarcasm in her words he ignored it. +His voice was barbed with thorns of irritation as he affirmed: + +"Then it is as I suspected; you're not in love with Steve. So love is +out of fashion, is it? To be scornful of love is the prerogative of +youth; when we get old we treasure it. Well, I warn you now, young +woman, that my nephew shan't live the loveless life I've lived. I was +born rich. Had I been poor and married, had my wife been my working +partner dependent upon me for money, helping me climb, I shouldn't be +the wreck of a man I am now." + +"What a pre-nineteenth amendment sentiment," the girl dared +mischievously. He glowered at her from under his bushy brows. + +"You can't switch me off my subject with your flippancy. I repeat, +Steve shall have love. I'll get it for him--I'll----" He rose and +brandished his stick at the girl. He fell back and leaned his head +weakly against the chair. Jerry leaned over him and smoothed back his +hair tenderly. He looked up at her with fever-bright eyes and gasped +breathlessly: + +"I haven't gone--yet. I shan't go till--I've thought of some way to--to +yank Steve out of this--this damnable Sam Jones ring you talk about. +Give me some tea. Quick! Give it to me--strong. My fool doctor won't let +me have anything else. What's Steve doing? Living on your income?" he +asked as Judson, after fussing among the tea-things, at a low word from +the girl, left the room. + +Jerry's cheeks flushed, tiny sparks lighted her eyes as she countered +crisply: + +"Don't you know your nephew better than to ask that question? He is in a +lawyer's office working for the munificent sum of fifteen per." Fairfax +choked over his tea. + +"D'you mean to tell me that a son-in-law of Glamorgan the oil-king is an +office boy? Between you all you've made a mess of it, haven't you? What +does your father say to that?" + +"He's--he's furious," Jerry answered, as she studied the infinitesimal +grounds in her teacup. She gave the tea-cart a little push which removed +it from between them. She rose, hesitated, then slipped to her knees +before the old man. She looked up at him speculatively for a moment +before she commenced to trace an intricate pattern on his stout stick +with a pink-tipped finger. Her voice was low and a trifle unsteady as +she pleaded: + +"Uncle Nick, be friends with me, will you?" A non-committal grunt was +her only answer. "Steve won't talk to me. He won't listen to reason. +Having made his big sacrifice for the family fortunes by marrying me he +is holding his head so high that he'll step into a horrible shell-hole +if he doesn't watch out. Dad is furious that he won't live and spend +money as befits a Courtlandt, that is, as he thinks a Courtlandt should +live and spend, and with that fine illogic, so characteristic of the +male of the species, takes it out on me. Steve is so--so maddening. He +won't use the automobiles unless he is taking me somewhere, although +they were all, with the exception of my town car and roadster, in the +garage when I came here. He just commutes and commutes in those +miserable trains. Commuting corrupts good manners; he's a--a bear. He +and I are beginning all wrong, Uncle Nick." She met the stern old eyes +above her before she dropped her head to the arm of his chair. "Steve +hates the sight of me and I----" + +Fairfax laid his stick across her shoulders with a suddenness and +strength, which, made her jump. + +"What did you expect? Didn't I tell you that when a poor man marries a +fortune his pride turns to gall? Can a red-blooded man really love a +girl who would marry for position? You're fast getting to hate him, I +suppose?" he demanded in a tone which brought her to her feet and iced +her voice and eyes. + +"You wouldn't expect me to be crazy about him, would you? He is cold and +disagreeable and is evidently laboring under the delusion that the world +was created to revolve around Stephen Courtlandt." A contemptuous snort +fired her with the determination to hurt someone or something. "You may +take it from me that if I had the chance to choose again between +disappointing Dad or marrying your precious nephew I'd--I'd disappoint +Dad." She was breathless but triumphant as she flung the last words at +him. He glared at her. + +"So-o, you're a quitter, are you?" + +Jerry's face was white, her eyes smoldering coals of wrath. Her voice +was low with repressed fury as she flung back his taunt. + +"I'm not a quitter. By why couldn't Dad have selected some other +aristocrat for a son-in-law? From what I have observed there are plenty +of them who need money. Believe me, I'm tired of living in this cold +storage atmosphere. I was willing to play fair, willing to keep my part +of the contract----" Her voice failed her as she met his grilling eyes. + +"Are you fulfilling your----" + +"What, Uncle Nick, tea-broken?" interrupted a voice from the door. The +old man struggled to his feet as his nephew came toward him. A smile of +tenderness dimmed the glitter of his eyes. Jerry's heart looped the +loop. How long had Steve been at the door? Had he heard that last +rebellious declaration of hers? How would he greet his uncle? She hoped +that he would be tender, for no matter how disagreeable Nicholas Fairfax +was, he was old and evidently dangerously ill. She was quite unconscious +of her breath of relief as the younger man laid an affectionate arm +about the elder's shoulders. + +"This sure is a surprise and then some, Uncle Nick. Why didn't you let +us know you were coming?" + +"I knew if I wrote, your father'd invent an excuse to put me off, so I +roped Doc Rand and came along. I have no time to waste. I wanted to see +the kind of girl they'd sold you to----" + +"Then you have seen a fine one who did me the honor to marry me, haven't +you?" There was a set to young Courtlandt's jaw which boded ill for the +person who differed with him. "Why not come up to your room and rest +before dinner? Sir Peter returns to-night and you'll want--here he is +now," as the hum of voices in the hall drifted to the library. + +Jerry sprang forward with a radiant smile of welcome as Peter Courtlandt +entered the room. He seized her two hands in his and kissed her +tenderly. + +"It's a good many years since I had a welcome home like this," he +admitted with a break in his voice. "How are you, Steve? Nick, I just +ran into Doc Rand in the hall. He told me that you were here." He held +out his hand to his brother-in-law who responded grudgingly. + +"I suppose he told you a lot of other stuff, too. Well, I'll fool him." + +Jerry gave the hand that still held one of hers a surreptitious squeeze. + +"It's good to have you back, Sir Peter. The house has seemed terribly +big and empty without you." + +"Empty!" echoed Fairfax with his sardonic chuckle. "Fancy a bride of a +month complaining of emptiness in a house without her father-in-law." + +"How does it happen that you have torn yourself away from the ranch, +Nick?" interrupted Peter Courtlandt before Steve, who had grown white +about the nostrils, could speak. "The last time you came on you said +you would never leave it again." + +Fairfax swallowed the bait which never failed to lure him. His western +possessions were his pride, and he welcomed an opportunity to talk of +them much as a fond parent does of his child. + +"Didn't want to leave. Felt it my duty to come and see what you had done +to Steve," he growled. "Greyson, of the X Y Z, is looking after things +for me." + +"Greyson of the X Y Z! Is your ranch near his?" Jerry demanded. A faint +color stole to her face, her eyes were alight with interest. + +"It is. What do you know about it?" Fairfax's eyes were interrogation +points of suspicion. + +"Not much. I met Mr. Greyson last winter, and I----" + +"Met Greyson, did you? Humph! So that's what's the matter with him. I +suppose the daughter of an oil-king looked down upon----" + +"Have you had a profitable year?" interrupted Peter Courtlandt, adroitly +getting between his son and the old man. "They tell me that this has +been a banner season for wheat." + +"They told you right. If the cattle winter safe I shall achieve the +ambition of my life, to own the biggest and finest herd of Shorthorns in +the country. I'll show 'em a thing or two about that breed of cattle. I +tell you, Peter----" + +"Mrs. Denbigh," announced Judson at the door. + +Jerry caught the look of consternation which Peter Courtlandt threw at +his son. She saw also the sudden tightening of Steve's lips. What did it +mean? She had met Felice Denbigh once and had been repulsed by her +super-golden hair and super-perfect complexion. Was she an old +sweetheart of Steve's? She took a step toward the smartly gowned woman +who spoke as she crossed the threshold. + +"Mrs. Courtlandt, you will forgive me for this intrusion on your +honeymoon, won't you? But--but Steve left his gloves in my sedan this +morning when we drove to town, and I came to return them." + +Jerry's mind took a dizzy turn or two then settled down to clear +thinking. She had a curious sense that with the explanation Felice +Denbigh had fired the opening gun of a campaign. So there had been a +reason why Steve had refused to allow her to drive him to town. She +flashed a glance at him even while she murmured welcoming platitudes to +her guest. He had his hand on his uncle's arm. + +"You remember Felice Peyton, don't you, Uncle Nick?" + +"What's that? Felice Peyton, the girl you were forever running after +when you were in college? Well, Miss Peyton, you lost him, didn't you?" +asked the terrible old man. + +"But--but dear Mr. Fairfax, I'm not Miss Peyton now--I married Phil +Denbigh when Steve deserted me and went to war. I----" + +"Philip Denbigh!" The old man rose, straightened himself like an +avenging Nemesis. "Poor devil! So he drew another blank besides that +good-for-nothing philandering mother of his. A mother who wept and +begged until she kept the boy from enlisting, and by some hokuspokus got +him into Class C.--No, I won't stop," as Courtlandt senior laid a +peremptory hand on his arm. "There are a lot of men who are cringing +through life to-day because their women did not love them enough to +cheer them on to fight in the Great Fight." + +Felice Denbigh was white with anger, her eyes tiny green flames. Jerry +flung herself into the breach: + +"Won't you stay and dine with us informally, Mrs. Denbigh? Poor S-Steve +must have been bored to death, surfeited with my society this last +month." + +"Thank you, no." Felice's self-possession was superb. "I shall pay my +respects to the new Mrs. Courtlandt later when she is formally at home. +Good-night, Mr. Fairfax. What a pleasure it must be for the family to +have your genial presence at the Manor. You don't know how happy it +makes me to find that someone remembers Steve's devotion to me. He seems +to have forgotten it. Good-night, Sir Peter. Stevie, will you come and +start that cranky car of mine?" Then, as he reached her side, Jerry +heard her ask softly, "Shall we meet at the same place to-morrow +morning?" + +Nicholas Fairfax must have heard it also, for the girl heard him mutter: + +"Snake!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +As she served coffee in the library after dinner Jerry pondered over +those low-spoken words. The firelight set the sequins on her pale blue +gown glittering like jewels; it accentuated the satiny sheen of her +hair, betrayed the troubled expression in her lovely eyes. Nicholas +Fairfax was in his room. He had collapsed when he went up to dress for +dinner. Doctor Rand, whom he had brought with him, stood back to the +fire stirring his coffee. There was a suggestion of fat and wheeze about +the little man. His weather-stained face had the wrinkled effect of a +quite elderly, quite plump russet apple. His white hair bushed à la +Golliwog. His frock coat was of finest, pre-war broadcloth. The +flamboyant effect of his black necktie made the girl think of the bow on +the neck of a pet kitten. He tested his coffee before he observed dryly: + +"If a man with an under-developed heart-beat and an over-developed +blood-pressure will go chasing half-way across the continent to see a +pretty girl," he bowed with somewhat ponderous gallantry in Jerry's +direction, "what can you expect but collapse? He's crazy about you, +Steve, and somewhere he got the fool notion that you were unhappy. +That's what started him East. I tried to hold him back. I knew the price +he'd pay." + +Stephen Courtlandt came suddenly from the window where he had been +looking out upon the snow-dusted world. He approached the fire. His eyes +looked strained. + +"Then you think he won't rally from this attack, Doc?" he asked +anxiously. + +"It's better for you to know the truth, Steve. He knows. He's wired for +Greyson of the X Y Z and----" + +"Oh-h!" + +The startled exclamation had escaped Jerry's lips before she realized +that she had made a sound. A delicate pink stole to her hair as she met +Steve's steady eyes. Doctor Rand was apparently quite unconscious of the +interruption. + +"And sent for your family lawyer. Your father is with him now. I'll go +and relieve him. Your cookie sure makes good coffee, Mrs. Jerry. Bring +her out to the Double O and invite us old bachelors for eats once in a +while. You'd be doing a charity bigger than some you spend your time on +here, I can tell you." + +"Mrs. Courtlandt would starve for people in that wilderness, Doc," +announced Stephen with parrot-like glibness. + +"Would she now? Sure, she doesn't look like a child who'd be so +dependent on chatter. Well, the Double O isn't in the Dude ranch region, +neither is it exactly a wilderness. It's a seething cauldron of society +in comparison to some of the places. You knew that Old Nick and Greyson +had given the Bear Creek ranch to a returned service man, didn't you, +Steve?" then as Courtlandt nodded, "He brought a wife out last spring. +She doesn't have a woman to speak to but she reminds me of a +meadow-lark, little and quiet but with a voice that sings." + +"Do she and her husband live there all alone?" Jerry asked in wonder. + +"Yes--that is--there's a range-rider but--but that's another story." Had +she not thought it quite out of character Jerry would have sworn that +Doc Rand was embarrassed. "We--here I am talking when my patient needs +me. It's all your fault, Mrs. Jerry. You shouldn't have vamped me so +outrageously. Steve, I want a prescription filled." + +"I'll send Carter for it, Doc. Give it to me." He left the room with the +slip of paper in his hand. Rand looked after him, then thoughtfully at +the girl where she sat in the flickering light of the fire. He set his +cup on the tray and patted her hand gently. + +"Don't mind Old Nick, child. He's sick and jealous and--and mad about +Steve--it will all come right. Things have a marvelous unbelievable way +of coming right. That's what I kept telling Fairfax but he wouldn't +listen." + +"Why--why should he hate me so?" + +"He doesn't hate you, he's--he's just afraid for Steve, that's all. He +adored his sister--he used to say that when he found a woman like her, +he'd marry----" he looked up at the portrait over the mantel. Jerry's +glance followed his. The eyes, so like Steve's, were thoughtful, there +was a suspicion of laughter in the curve of the lips, the flesh tints +were marvelously lovely, a string of rare pearls gleamed softly on the +creamy neck. The artist had worked lovingly and had produced a portrait +that was humanly, warmly alive, a spirit that dominated the quiet room. + +"Steve,--Steve and Sir Peter love her like that too, do they not?" + +Rand thrust his hands under his coat tails and flapped them in time with +his heel and toe teeter. + +"Love her! It is more than love. Betty Fairfax, the name clung even +after marriage, makes me believe in immortality. The best of her is +living in Steve and it will be handed on to his children. Her spirit is +just as much alive for her husband and son as it was the day she left +them. That's why Steve has kept straight through temptations which would +have lured most chaps of his age. No one can ever tell me, and get +across with it, that a mother's influence doesn't live forever. That boy +is one of a thousand, isn't he, Mrs. Jerry?" + +"Oh--perhaps, as thousands go." She looked up from under her long lashes +at his discomfited face. Laughter gleamed through the tears which his +tribute to the mother had brought. "You shouldn't pry into the secrets +of a maiden's heart," she teased with exaggerated demureness. Rand +responded to her mood. + +"That's better. A child like you should laugh, not be as serious as +you've been ever since I've seen you. Don't let Nick's condition depress +you. He may live for weeks and when he does go, it will be a release. He +wants it--if--if he can go knowing that Steve's happiness is assured." + +"Is anyone's happiness assured?" asked the girl gravely. + +"No"--he regarded her with his twinkling gray eyes--"but I'll bet my +broncho if anyone's is--it's Steve's. Good-night." + +He was gone before Jerry could reply. Her heart felt curiously warmed by +his words. He--he evidently liked her if Steve didn't. She went to the +piano. Her fingers touched the keys experimentally for a moment, then +she quite unconsciously struck the opening bar of "Papillions." The +music danced and rose with dainty spontaneity. She drifted into Bach's +"Praeludium." Separated chords or flowing melody, she played with a +sympathy and sureness which showed the touch of an artist. She knew when +Steve came into the room and crossed to the window. As the last note +died away she turned. He stood with his hands clenched behind his back. +What was interesting him outside, she wondered. She wanted to speak to +him but she never yet had addressed him by his first name. It seemed +absurd, it was absurd, but she had avoided using it to his face. To +continue the avoidance presented difficulties now that his back was +turned. She usually waited until he looked at her, which she had to +acknowledge was seldom. She ran through the opening bars of "Papillions" +again but his back remained obdurately turned to the room. + +"I--you----" she halted awkwardly, "I would like to talk to you," she +admitted hesitatingly. Courtlandt wheeled and approached the piano. + +"Good Lord, don't you know my name that you have to juggle 'I--you----' +when you want to attract my attention?" he demanded belligerently. There +was a defiant gleam in the eyes which met his. + +"It does sound silly, doesn't it--Stevie?" with exaggerated demureness +and an exact imitation of Felice Denbigh's voice. "But--but I know yours +better than you know mine--I think----" then as he opened his lips to +speak she hurried on, "I wanted to ask if you were in love with Felice +Denbigh? No--no--don't mistake me," as his blue eyes darkened to +purple-black, and his lips tightened, "I'm not jealous--really I'm +not--I only wanted you to know that if you are, I'm sorry, terribly +sorry. It's a tragedy to love one person and have to marry another." + +"How do you know? Are you in love with Greyson?" with rough directness. + +His sudden turn of the tables took the girl's breath. She colored +betrayingly. She knew that she must be the picture of guilt as she stood +there, her color coming and going, her heart beating like a silly +tom-tom. There was even a slight unsteadiness in her voice as she +evaded: + +"I haven't seen Bruce Greyson since last winter," then maddened at her +own lack of poise she looked up with frank defiance. "It's a pity that +he doesn't live here. He could motor me to town." + +He flushed darkly. + +"My motoring to town with Mrs. Denbigh this morning was purely +accidental." + +"But--but--you will never go with me." + +"Trolley incomes should avoid limousine ladies." + +"Limousine ladies!" Jerry gripped her temper and controlled her voice. +"Pardon! My mistake," she drawled maddeningly. "Is--is Mrs. Denbigh +divorced?" + +"Not yet. What Old Nick said about Phil's mother was true. She did ruin +his life. It would have been better for him and for her had he been shot +to pieces, than to have him as he is now with this gnawing shame at his +heart." + +"She--she was not much like your mother, was she?" + +"Like Mother?" Jerry thought she had never heard anything so beautiful +as that word "Mother" as Courtlandt uttered it. He smiled up at the +portrait--"Mother was--well----" he cleared the huskiness from his voice +and went on, "As I was saying about Denbigh, remorse got too much for +him and a year ago he disappeared, dropped completely out of sight." + +"Why didn't Felice go with him?" + +"Do you know, I fancy that Phil didn't want her." + +"Nevertheless she had married him. One doesn't take the vow 'and +forsaking all others' to break it, does one?" gravely. + +"I deduce from that that you do not believe in divorce?" + +"Divorce! While I acknowledge that there may be situations where it is +unavoidable, I hate the word. Always to me it takes on the semblance of +Medusa's head in my school mythology, its snaky, hissing locks striking, +stabbing, stinging, scarring indelibly. I believe in keeping covenants." + +"It's hard sometimes." + +"It is, but life isn't intended to be all joy-ride. I've found that +out." + +"You mean----" + +"Nothing which need make you glower at me like that," defiantly. "Do you +know, I fancy," with an exact imitation of his earlier voice and manner, +"that the future first families of America's 'Who's Who' will be those +who can count back at least four generations of ancestors who have, in +spite of disappointment and disillusion, poverty or riches, sickness or +health, kept their marriage covenants. A curious idea, isn't it? It just +came to me. 'A little thing but mine own,'" her tone changed from +earnestness to flippancy on the last words. She syncopated a few bars of +"Papillions" as though to emphasize her indifference. + +Courtlandt thrust his hands hard into the pockets of his dinner coat. +The atmosphere tingled with electricity. The girl wondered if he were +throttling a desire to shake her. She hoped so. He met her eyes steadily +for a moment before he turned to leave the room. Jerry took a hasty +step after him. + +"Wait, please--if--if----" as he kept on she added desperately, "Steve, +please." He stopped and turned. "If--if you should see Dad--do not +mention the fact that Bruce--that Mr. Greyson's ranch is near your +uncle's." + +"Why not?" relentlessly. + +"Because in an attack of homesickness last winter I became engaged to +him." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +In the music-room of the Manor the rugs had been rolled back, the voice +of the phonograph released from captivity and the Courtlandts' guests +were dancing, at least some of them were. Sir Peter had beguiled +Glamorgan to the library for a smoke. The oil-king had cast a gloom over +the dinner. Was it because he was disturbed about Nicholas Fairfax, +Jerry wondered. To the amazement of all, he and the ranchman had become +great friends. It would be like her father to be irritable if he were +moved. Perhaps it had been the arrival of Greyson which had infuriated +him. Last winter he had quickly made her see the folly of her engagement +to the owner of the X Y Z, and now she was grateful to him. She had +known at the time that she did not love Bruce Greyson, but that she was +in love with love. In a way her life had been a lonely one, and when he +had pleaded with her to marry him, she had agreed to a tentative +engagement. Now she was glad that she had kept him at a distance, even +in those two weeks. + +She looked up at Greyson as he sat beside her in one of the deep +embrasures of a window. A distinguished looking man, he gave the +impression of having lived in great spaces, of having achieved +worth-while things, of being absolutely poised and self-assured. His +dark hair was tending toward neutral at the temples, his keen blue eyes +had fine lines radiating from them, which denoted long-distance gazing. +The weather-beaten texture of his skin was emphasized by the immaculate +white of the shirt and collar of his up-to-the-minute dinner clothes. + +Peggy Glamorgan, as she danced with her brother-in-law, was doing +direful things to the heart of young Don Curtis, whose family estate +adjoined the Manor. She was a charming, younger model of her sister, +except that where Jerry's eyes were brown, Peggy's were a somewhat +elfish hazel. She was making the most of a week-end freedom from school +discipline. Steve Courtlandt's glance wandered to the two in the deep +window. Peggy looked up at him with tormenting concern. + +"That's the second time you've lost step, Steve. I protest. I hate being +trodden on." Her laughing eyes and mischievously curved lips robbed the +words of their sting. + +"I'm sorry! Give me one more trial, Peg-o'-my-heart, and I'll do +better," promised Steve. He had taken an immense liking to the girl, she +was so genuine, so unaffected, so brimming over with the zest of +living. + +"Nothing doing, brother. Go get Jerry. It's a part of her job to put up +with your poor dancing, isn't it? A part of the love, honor and obey +stuff? Catch me saying 'I will' to that. Jerry's different. She'd walk +over the proverbial ploughshares if she thought duty called." She looked +across the room to where her sister sat and added softly, "It's a queer +trick of fortune that Bruce Greyson should be your uncle's confidential +man and should come to this house." + +"Why accent this?" demanded Steve Courtlandt bluntly. + +Peggy flushed guiltily beneath his stern eyes. + +"That's only my exclamatory style. I meant that it was strange that +Jerry should meet him here after--after--I--I wonder if that was what +made her cry last night?" + +"Did Jerry cry last night?" + +"She cross-my-throat-and-hope-to-die swore she didn't, this morning, but +her lids were suspiciously pink. Didn't you notice it? Thank you, I +should love it," she responded to young Curtis who had been impatiently +hovering in the offing. "There really isn't much fun dancing with old +married men," she confided in a tone intended to reach Steve. She made +an impudent little face at her brother-in-law over her partner's +shoulder. He smiled and blew her a kiss as she danced away but her +words hurt, hurt because he knew that she was right. He felt years older +than he had that epoch-making October night when his father had revealed +to him the state of the family finances, and had presented the means +whereby it could be remedied. Had he chosen wisely, he wondered; +wouldn't it have been better to let the property go than to have married +a girl who had so quickly acquired an aversion for him? + +He looked across at the two engrossed faces in the window. He'd break +that up. Jerry should remember where she was and not give occasion for +silly gossip. Already Felice Denbigh, who had motored out from town for +dinner, had called his attention to Greyson's apparent devotion. With +eyes combative, Steve strolled to where Jerry sat. + +"Will you dance with me, Mrs. Courtlandt?" he asked with aggressive +formality. In the midst of a sentence, she looked up in startled +surprise. Greyson rose. + +"I have committed the unpardonable blunder of monopolizing my hostess, +Steve," he apologized, "but the temptation to live over a perfect +friendship was too great to be resisted. I will beg a dance from your +sister, Mrs. Courtlandt." + +Jerry's eyes followed him as he crossed the room. They made Steve think +of deep, troubled pools when she looked up at him. Was it because Peg +had put the idea into his head or did they look as though they had known +recent tears? Was she finding her marriage a bar to happiness already? +His face was a trifle white, a trifle grim as he reminded: + +"Do we dance?" + +Without answering she rose, and he put his arm about her. Except for +taking her hand it was the first time he had touched her. How slender +she was, how soft, how graceful. He could feel her heart pound heavily +against his breast. One might think that she was frightened, but with +him--that was absurd. Her dancing like her walk was perfection of +motion. He was careful of his steps as they danced down the long room. +Jerry should have no occasion to echo Peg's reprimand. She stopped. + +"Tired?" he asked solicitously, his senses still throbbing from the +appeal of music and dance. She shook her head. + +"Tired! I don't know what it is to be tired. Some of our guests are not +dancing. Mrs. Denbigh is quite alone and looking horribly bored. Peg +seems to have appropriated more than her share of men; she is +surrounded. Don't you think that as host you should dance with Felice?" + +"Presently. I have something to say to you first." He changed his +position so that he stood between her and the others in the room. + +"Why did you cry?" + +She crimsoned even under the tiny curls at the nape of her white neck. + +"I! Crying! How absurd. You really should go and dance with your +guest----" + +"Not until you tell me why you cried." + +"But I haven't been crying." + +"Oh, yes you have. I----" + +"Supper is served in the library, Mrs. Courtlandt," interrupted Judson +of the velvet tread. As they left the room in the wake of their guests +the butler detained Stephen Courtlandt and said something in a low tone. + +"Has Mr. Greyson gone up?" he asked hurriedly and when Judson answered +in the affirmative he turned to Jerry: + +"I must go to Uncle Nick. I may not be down again." + +"Is he----" but he was mounting the stairs two steps at a time before +Jerry had finished the sentence. With a feeling of foreboding she +entered the library. The guests were grouped around the fire with Judson +and a maid serving supper. She stopped in the shadow of the doorway. +Up-stairs the spirit of an old, weary man was passing, here--the room +and its furnishings made a rich background for the shimmering satin of +dainty gowns; the firelight played mad pranks with jewels at white +throats and on pink fingers, with the glittering buckles on silver +slippers; bright eyes were laughing into eyes that pleaded or compelled, +young voices were teasing, challenging. + +Jerry's breath came unevenly. She had cried last night. It was a rare +indulgence for her. She could not tell now why. How could Steve have +known? She hoped that none of these chattering boys and girls suspected +it. She looked about the room. How she loved it! It stood for all the +background she had acquired by her marriage. She loved the old +seventeenth century Courtlandt, she held long, one-sided conversations +with him when she was sure that she was quite alone. He had given her to +understand that a _marriage de convenance_ quite met with his approval, +that in his day girls married to please their parents. She wasn't so +sure of the judgment of Steve's mother. Her eyes, so like her son's, +looked down with a grave question in their depths when she appealed to +her. + +The group around the fire made room as they welcomed her with gay +reproof for tardiness. Felice Denbigh inquired impatiently for Steve. +Jerry made his apologies and explained his absence. The voices of the +guests became hushed. One by one they left, almost tiptoeing through the +hall. Peggy snuggled up to her sister when the two were alone. + +"Has--has Uncle N-Nick--gone?" she whispered. Then as Jerry shook her +head, "If--if he does will you come and sleep with me?" + +"I will, dear, but there is nothing to frighten you. Why should there be +in the passing of an old man's spirit?" + +"But--but he was such a cross old man. What has made you so brave, +Jerry? Once you would have dreaded it as much as I--being here at a time +like this, I mean." + +"Perhaps it is the hours I have spent in the hospital with the sick and +wounded soldiers. I have seen so much and felt so much, that death has +seemed beautiful, not terrible. Go to bed, child. I'll come in later and +stay with you." + +She went down the hall. "But he was such a cross old man!" Peggy's +obituary of Nicholas Fairfax echoed persistently in her mind. What a +tragic thing to have said about one. She couldn't blame her sister. Old +Nick had been consistently disagreeable to her and Peg was too young to +take into consideration his age and illness. She lingered for a moment +before the door of the room in which Nicholas Fairfax lay. Could she +help? The nurse came out suddenly and almost collided with her. + +"Goodness, Mrs. Courtlandt, you gave me a start! I was just coming for +you. Mr. Stephen sent me. His uncle wants you." + +With her breath coming hurriedly, her heart pounding, Jerry followed +the woman. What could Old Nick want? To continue his insults? She passed +into the inner room. The window was open to let in the clear winter air. +The old man was raised high on his pillows. Steve held one of the +gnarled hands. Courtlandt was behind him. Greyson, as rigid and +immovable as one of the mountains of his own country, stood at the foot +of the bed. Doctor Rand, his face grave and deeply lined, motioned the +girl to take her place opposite Steve, then he and the nurse and Greyson +moved back to the outer room. As Jerry bent over him, Nicholas Fairfax +looked up into her eyes. They met his tenderly. The tenseness of his +expression relaxed, he fumbled for something under his pillow. Jerry +reached for him and drew out an open prayer-book. His shaking finger +pointed to the page; it was the marriage service. + +"Read that--read that--aloud," he commanded in a voice which still held +a ring of power. + +Slipping to her knees beside the bed the girl read. Haltingly, huskily +at first, but as she lost thought of self in the beauty and meaning of +the words her voice cleared. + +"'Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together +after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony and forsaking all +others keep thee only to him as long as ye both shall live?'" + +The gnarled, claw-like hand fell on the book. The Old man leaned +forward. His voice, weaker now, interrupted: + +"'And forsaking all others keep thee only to him as long as ye +both--shall live,' did you mean it, girl, when you made that vow?" + +Jerry's face was colorless. There was a broken exclamation from Steve. +She laid her hand gently over the icy hand on the book. Her young ardent +eyes met his dim ones steadily. + +"I did, Uncle Nick." + +He dropped back with a faint sigh. + +"Then it will be all right--Steve. I was afraid--that I might have--but +I meant it for the best--it will come right Doc Rand says--things will +come right--marvelously--unbelievably--right!" + +His voice trailed off into silence. The lines of pain and weakness in +his face disappeared as though a soothing hand had been laid upon them. +The curtains at the open window stirred for a moment and then were +still. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Caleb Lawson paused in the reading of the will of Nicholas Fairfax to +peer over his half-moon spectacles. His pursed lips made a red, bulbous +blot on his pale face as he regarded the three persons in the library at +the Manor. Outside an ice-tipped vine struck with a ghostly tap! tap! +tap! against the diamond-paned window. Geraldine sat beside Peter +Courtlandt. Stephen stood with his back to the fireplace. The sunlight +which streamed in at the window touched the girl's hair and transformed +it into a crown of bronze with curious red and gold lights. The lawyer's +gaze lingered on her for a moment before he cleared his throat with a +force which sent a premonitory thrill down the spines of his hearers and +resumed the reading of the bulky document he held. + +"'Lastly, all the rest, residue and remainder of the property both real +and personal of which I may be possessed or to which I may be entitled +at my decease, I give and devise to my nephew Stephen Courtlandt, to him +and his heirs forever, on condition, however, that he take possession +and management of my ranch in the State of Wyoming not later than three +months after my decease and live there one year with his wife Geraldine +Glamorgan Courtlandt. And on the further condition that his said wife, +during said year, shall refuse to receive income from the fund her +father has provided for her, and shall dispose of all securities and +money she may have. If my nephew Stephen Courtlandt or his wife, +Geraldine Glamorgan Courtlandt, fail to fulfil any one of these +conditions said property shall be divided as follows:'" + +The lawyer laid down his papers and looked over the edge of his +spectacles at Stephen Courtlandt. + +"There is no need of my reading that long list of beneficiaries until I +know your decision, Stephen. If your father will take me to his study +we'll leave you and Mrs. Courtlandt to talk it over." + +"You may proceed with the reading. I refuse to accede to the +conditions," Steve announced with grim lips. + +"Steve," his father protested, "think it over before you say that." He +looked imploringly at the girl beside him but her eyes were fixed on the +interlacing fingers which lay passively on the lap of her black gown. +"Talk with him, Jerry. Don't let him fling this away recklessly," he +pleaded. "Come, Lawson, we'll leave the young people to thresh this +thing out." + +He followed the lawyer from the room and closed the door. Stephen poked +viciously at the coals in the fireplace till a fountain of sparks +sputtered up the chimney. Then he backed up against the mantel and with +a face from which every drop of color had drained, looked down at the +bent head of the girl he had married. He laughed shortly. + +"Old Nick had a genius for messing things up, hadn't he? When I heard +the first clause of that will, which related to me, even when the +condition followed that I was to live on the ranch for a year--nothing +but a mad sense of freedom thrilled me. I would be my own man once more, +rich enough to pay back to your father every cursed cent he had loaned +on the Courtlandt property and then have a living income. I could----" + +His eyes burned, the veins stood out on his forehead. Jerry realized for +the first time the sacrifice of pride and happiness he had made for his +family name. She finished the sentence for him: + +"You could have your marriage annulled." + +He looked at her steadily. + +"That did not enter into my plan. Why, oh why, did Uncle Nick have to +wreck the whole thing by involving you? I wouldn't take you if you would +go. You married me for what I could give you socially. A lot I could +give you out there in the wilderness." + +"Nevertheless, I shall go with you." + +"What! Why, by your own confession you would starve for people in a +wilderness." + +"Do you want this fortune?" + +"More than I ever wanted anything--except one--in my life." + +Jerry whitened at his amendment. + +"I suppose that one thing was Felice. In spite of that I shall go with +you. I shall fulfil my part of the conditions and after you have +fulfilled yours then--then we'll consider." + +He strode over to her, seized her hands and pulled her to her feet +beside him. His face was white, his eyes searching. + +"Peg said that you would walk over burning ploughshares if you thought +duty called; she's right. But--but I shan't let you make the sacrifice." + +"You can't help yourself if I am determined to go. You don't want to +start a scandal in high society, do you, by refusing to take me? I don't +care to go any more than you care to have me," bitterly, "but--but I +promised. Uncle Nick knew what he was doing when he made me read that +marriage service, 'and forsaking all others'--I shall be doing that all +right. But it was not a fair-weather vow. If your interests take you to +the ranch I shall go with you." + +"What will your father say?" + +She shrank away from him but he still had her hands in his and drew her +back. Her lips curved in a disdainful smile. + +"I think--I think we shall have what the miners used to call a +'helofarow.'" + +"He will never consent to your going." + +"What difference will that make? How can he prevent it? He cannot take +back what he has given your father. That is all that need concern you," +with exasperated frankness. He flushed darkly at her tone, dropped her +hands, and touched a bell. When the butler opened the door he commanded +curtly, "Judson, ask Mr. Lawson and my father to come here." + +When the two men appeared in answer to the summons Glamorgan was with +them. His face was deeply flushed, his little green eyes snapped with +anger. + +"Look here, Jerry, what's this I hear about your going off on a ranch? +It can't be done, I tell you. Steve doesn't need that--that old +mischief-maker's money," his voice broke queerly, but he steadied it and +went on, "Why doesn't he stay here and spend mine?" + +"You are quite right, Mr. Glamorgan. I have been trying to impress your +daughter with the fact that she need not take her marriage vows +literally. I am content to eat the crumbs which fall from my rich +father-in-law's table." + +"Steve!" Peter Courtlandt protested brokenly. + +Jerry faced her father. Her black gown brought out the pallor of her +face and throat. The only color about her was the vivid curves of her +lips; even her usually brown eyes were black. + +"I'm sorry if it hurts you, Dad, but I shall go with Steve. He is +entitled to his uncle's fortune. What is a year out of our lives? +Nothing. I--married to please you. Now I shall interpret my marriage +vows to please myself." She was most lovely as she defied him. His green +eyes contracted to emerald sparks. The veins stood out on his forehead +like cords. Jerry remembered that it was the first time one of his +children had gone contrary to his command. + +"What will you do for money? That infernal will strips you of +everything. Ask Steve for it? I can see you. Come, Jerry, give this +thing up. Settle down here at the Manor and be happy." + +For the first time since she had come into the lives of the Courtlandts +Jerry looked like her father. There was the same determination about her +eyes, about her lips. + +"Be happy! Does smooth going necessarily mean happiness? Does jogging +along on the path beaten by our social set mean happiness? Do you know +how I feel, Dad? It is as though Steve and I had come up against an +enormous sign-post bearing the startling information, ROAD CLOSED: +DETOUR. The detour may be hard going, detours usually are, but they also +offer more thrills and adventures than the broad highway. I'm willing to +take a sporting chance if--if Steve wants me----" + +Young Courtlandt laid his hands lightly on her shoulders and looked down +at her with inscrutable eyes. + +"I do want you, but remember, if I win out, half of what I have will be +settled unreservedly on you. You will have earned it." She looked up at +him for a moment. + +"Then when you have rewarded me for being a good girl and have paid back +Father, you will consider yourself in a position to snap your fingers at +the Glamorgans?" He looked down at her with disconcerting steadiness as +he answered cryptically: + +"I shall consider myself in a position to dictate terms to one member of +the family. Mr. Lawson, I accept the conditions of my uncle's will." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +With each stop of the cross-continent train rain-coated men, with +occasionally a woman, entered the car and passed down the corridor to +disappear into the compartments. Porters wearing that air of authority +and responsibility for which one might justly look in a premier or +secretary of state, came and went; conductors punched tickets and +answered questions more or less amiably; the wheels rattled and roared +and ground ceaselessly; outside the rain descended with a persistence +worthy a better cause. + +From the window of her compartment Geraldine Courtlandt looked out upon +a drenched world. There was nothing to see save a dense white sheet ten +feet beyond the window. In an hour she and Steve would reach their +destination, the first stop on the detour, she thought with a sudden +mist before her eyes. She hoped that the storm was not an omen of what +lay before them. She shook herself mentally. "Don't be silly and +superstitious," she admonished that Jerry Courtlandt who persisted in +having a queer lumpy feeling in the region of her throat whenever she +thought of the curious twist the apparently broad, straight road of her +marriage had taken. + +Her father had maintained his attitude of angry aloofness. He had not +come to the station to see her off, she had waited on the platform until +the train started, hoping that he would relent at the last moment. He +had sent a curt typewritten note to the effect that if she and Steve +regained their common sense and returned to the Manor before the end of +the year he would double the income he had allowed them. There were a +dozen glorious American beauties in her compartment when she entered it. +The roses had set the atmosphere tingling with life and color and love. +Jerry laughed happily and kissed each one of them. How like her father +it was to write the note with one hand and send flowers with the other. + +What difference would it make if her income were doubled if she were +disloyal to the promise she made when she married Steve, the girl +thought, as chin on her hand she gazed unseeingly out at the rain. "An +easy conscience is more to be desired than great riches," she +paraphrased to herself as she thought of the weeks when she had been +engaged to Greyson. Her heart still smarted with contrition as she +remembered how ashamed she had been that she could make so little +response to the love he lavished upon her. "Never again!" she said +aloud. "I've made two mistakes, Bruce and Steve. From now on I'll do +what I know to be right even if I hurt someone else and--and hate doing +it. But--but just what shall I do for money?" she questioned with +puckered brows. + +She opened her beaded bag and poured the contents into her lap. "How are +the mighty fallen!" she quoted with a laugh as she looked down upon the +collection displayed. A handkerchief, one gold pencil, the key to her +safe-deposit box, the membership card of her club, a book of postage +stamps. Nothing else. She had carried out the terms of the will in +letter and spirit. After her bills had been paid she had transferred her +bank balance to her father and had dropped her remaining cash into the +box of a Salvation Army lassie as she entered the station to take the +west-bound train. The woman in the red-banded pokebonnet, standing on a +board to keep her stout boots from the dampness, had looked at the bills +crushed into her box, then after the donor incredulously. Such lavish +generosity was rare in her experience. + +Jerry frowningly regarded the objects in her lap. Not one cent of money. +"Being marooned on a desert island has nothing on being marooned on a +ranch without a penny," she mused under her breath. She hastily stuffed +her belongings back into her bag as she heard an approaching whistle. +It was Steve. The queer merry-go-round of fortune had accomplished one +thing, it had restored Steve's spirits. Since leaving New York he had +been a different person from the morose, touchy individual she had known +since her engagement to him. He had been companionable, sympathetic in a +fraternal sort of way which had made her wish fervently that Fate had +given her a brother instead of a husband. + +"Won't you come in?" she asked as Courtlandt stopped at the open door, +then as he entered, "Is it time to get on my coat?" + +"Not for half an hour." He seated himself opposite her. There was a new +expression in his eyes which set the girl's heart to beating +uncomfortably. She couldn't define it, she couldn't meet it long enough +to define it. + +"Jerry," there was an "'tention company" note in his voice which brought +her chin up defiantly, "I suppose--if you complied with the terms of +Uncle Nick's will you must be rather down and out financially--yes?" She +succumbed to the lure of his smile and the laughter in his eyes. + +"Thought telepathy," she responded gayly. "I was taking account of stock +when you appeared. I have in this bag, one pencil, one handkerchief, one +perfectly good club-membership card--good, that is, until January +first--and a book of two-cent stamps. Those stamps won't imperil our +hopes of the inheritance, will they?" she asked with exaggerated +anxiety. "Caleb Lawson held me up before I boarded the train. I had to +sign a paper and show him my empty purse to prove that I was really the +Beggar-maid, bare-pursed instead of barefooted, following my King +Cophetua out into the cold, cold world." + +"Your simile is faulty. As I remember it the Beggar-maid loved the +King." + +"Also the King loved the Beggar-maid. You're right, the similarity +ceases with my lack of funds." + +"I shall open an account for you in the bank at Slippy Bend. Until +then----" his hand went to his pocket. The girl's face whitened. + +"Don't offer me money, Steve," she commanded tensely. + +"I'm not offering money. I am giving you what belongs to you. Aren't you +earning what Uncle Nick left as well as I?" + +"Weren't you earning your share of Father's money when you married me?" + +"That's different." + +"Why? You refused to take my money. I refuse to take yours." + +"You will take it." + +Jerry leaned forward, her face as colorless as his. + +"Take that 'Hands up!' expression out of your eyes, Steve. I shall not +take a cent of your money. You will find that a Glamorgan has as much +pride as a Courtlandt if she hasn't several generations of aristocrats +behind her." Her angry eyes blazed as he retorted laughingly: + +"You forget. You're not a Glamorgan now." + +She shrugged lightly. + +"More's the pity." + +"Do you mean that?" Consternation banished the smile from his lips. He +caught her hands in his. "The day Uncle Nick arrived I heard you +say----" + +"Nex' stop Slippy Bend, Miss. Porter for your bags," interrupted a +Jamaican voice with a Chicago accent. Jerry's face flushed with relief +as the black head with its gleaming eyes and teeth bobbed in at the +door. She pointed to the bags. As the man went out with them she turned +to Courtlandt with an embarrassed laugh. + +"You've won this time, Steve. I had forgotten the porter. You'll have to +tip him and the maid for me. However, as this is really a deferred +wedding-trip the expenses naturally fall to the groom, don't they?" with +reckless daring. + +He looked at her until her laughing eyes fell before the glow of his. + +"You've said it--if this can be called a wedding-trip--but take it from +me, sometime, Mrs. Courtlandt, I'll show you what a real honeymoon can +be. Porter, here's another bag." + +He followed the black man into the corridor. Jerry settled her smart +toque and pinned on her veil before the mirror, but she couldn't see her +own face, only Steve's with that curious I'm-biding-my-time look in his +eyes. What had he meant about a honeymoon? Did he mean that he and +Felice--no, _no_, Steve was not that kind. She looked about the +compartment to make sure that she had left nothing. Three roses still +glowing with beauty remained of the dozen. She pinned them to the front +of her coat. She would take so much of her father into her new life with +her. + +The wooden shanty which served as a shelter for telegraph, freight and +passengers at Slippy Bend was as depressing as rain, flapping shingles +and a skewed roof could make it. The road which struggled up a slope to +hide between two shabby buildings was a river of mud. A knock-kneed man +with a string of slat-ribbed calico horses and cayuses following him, +waded downward through the middle of it. Every few steps he would stop +to yank a howling, red-eyed bulldog from a hole which had betrayed him. +Jerry valiantly blinked back the tears as she watched him. She had never +seen anything quite as sordid and depressing as her surroundings. The +only note of civilization in the dreary scene was the large, curtained +touring car by the platform. As she looked at it, two legs, which had +acquired Queen Anne curves from many hours spent in the saddle, wriggled +from under the curtains followed by a large body. A Belgian police dog, +tawny, noble, aloof, followed the man. Courtlandt who had been busy with +the luggage turned with a boyish laugh and held out his hand. + +"It sure is great to be back, Pete. Down, Goober, down, boy!" to the dog +who, after an uncertain second, had leaped to lick his face. He kept one +hand on the animal's head as he turned to the girl beside him. "Jerry, +this is Pete Gerrish, who taught me all I know about ranching. He is +Uncle Nick's right-hand man. Pete, this is Mrs. Courtlandt." + +"He's got me wrong, ma'am. I _was_ the old gentleman's right-hand man, +but Ranlett's in the saddle now. I'm sure pleased to meet you an' I hope +you'll be downright happy with us." + +"Thank you, Mr. Gerrish." Jerry felt the tears absurdly near as she +looked up at him. He was regarding her with unqualified approval. His +large face was cross-currented with fine lines and smiles; his Stetson +came close to ears which looked as though the Almighty had designed them +as hat-rests and had made a surprisingly good job of it. He carried the +marks of his calling in the devil-may-care poise of his body, in his +clothing, in his rollicking Irish eyes. + +"I'll give Baldy Jennings a hand with the trunks to get 'em out of the +rain till the boys get here for them. They're teamin' in. How the devil +did yer expect to get all them things out to the ranch over these spring +roads, Steve--I would say Chief? The boys has decided that even if they +did teach the new owner most of what he knows about ranchin', it won't +do to be familiar-like no more. So we've decided to call him chief, +ma'am," Gerrish inserted the bit of information to Jerry in the midst of +his dissertation on the condition of the roads. "I went up to the hubs +gettin' here with no load. By cripes, I don't know what'll happen goin' +back." + +Jerry was tempted to echo that "By cripes!" later, when the big car +laboring through what seemed rivers of mud, foundered in a hole. She +unfastened the curtain and looked out. Goober on the running-board, +plastered with mud, looked like nothing so much as a model sketchily +done in clay as he peered down inquiringly. Gerrish expressed himself in +language which the girl was sure was being painfully expurgated because +of her. The wheels groaned and choked as they churned up fountains of +mud. As she watched the wheel under her Jerry could think of nothing +but a gigantic egg-beater gone mad from the futility of its efforts. The +back of Gerrish's neck had taken on a dangerous, apoplectic color +generated, doubtless, by restraint from the fullest self-expression. + +"Would it help if I got out?" she ventured in the lull while the engine +rested. + +"Haw! I guess if yer did we'd have to haul you out in a hurry or send a +rescue-party through to China," Gerrish discouraged while Courtlandt +commanded: + +"Stay where you are! I'll take the wheel, Pete. We have nothing to put +under the back wheels; it would do no good if we had. The engine will +have to do the trick." + +He threw on the switch. The engine started. The spinning wheels hitched +forward, he reversed, hitched forward, reversed, hitched forward till +Jerry experienced all of the discomforts, and none of the stimulation, +of being aboard ship on a high and choppy sea. Courtlandt grimly pursued +his tactics till with a roar from the motor and a lurch which sent +Jerry's teeth into her lower lip, the car, looking like an uncanny +prehistoric animal which had been wallowing in a mud bath, dragged +itself from its hole, skidded with hair-raising irresponsibility, came +back to the road and struggled on. The rain stopped. The sky showed +shapeless spots of light where the clouds were thinning. Vapors floated +lightly above the fields. + +It was twilight, a crimson and gold twilight, when Courtlandt turned +into the avenue of cottonwoods which led to the ranch-house of the +Double O. The air was fragrant with fresh washed earth and the spicy +breath which the storm had beaten from the pines. From somewhere a +meadow-lark trilled an ecstatic greeting and as though frightened at its +temerity as suddenly subsided. The naming color in the west might have +been the glow from a blazing forest, but it was only the sun flinging +its good-night over sky and fields and mountains in the whole-hearted +Western way. Against the red light squatted the shadowy shape of the +ranch-house. + +When the car stopped Goober sprang to the porch and stood as if awaiting +orders. In the background hovered two Chinese servants, a man and a +woman. Their slant-eyes in their moon faces were ludicrously alike. The +woman in her gay silks and embroideries looked like a painting on +rice-paper. + +Pete and Hopi Soy carried in the bags. At a nod from Courtlandt the +woman followed. Steve held the door wide. With a curious choked feeling +Jerry entered the house. Then her emotion found vent in a little cry of +delight. After the grayness and mud of the ride out the great +living-room glowed like a jewel. The color stole through her senses like +an elixir and rested and refreshed her. Her eyes shone, her lips curved +in a faint smile as she looked about her. The servants had disappeared. +She and Steve were alone. + +Logs blazed in the great stone fireplace. Safely out of scorching +distance a white cat dozed in front of it, her fluffy coat rosy in the +firelight, her wide eyes like blinking topaz as she regarded the +newcomers. Gorgeous serapes from old Mexico, Hopi saddle-blankets, +heavily beaded garments of the Blackfeet, Apache bows and quivers full +of arrows, Navaho blankets, skins of mountain lions and lynx there were, +each one placed in artistic relation to its neighbor. A profusion of +books and magazines, a baby-grand piano, a phonograph _de luxe_, softly +shaded lamps, added their note of civilization to the array of savage +trophies and over the mantel---- + +"Why, Steve! There's Mother!" whispered Jerry softly. + +For a silent moment the man and girl standing side by side looked up at +the tender, laughing face of the woman in riding costume. She didn't +seem like a thing of paint and canvass, she was real, vital, alive and +welcoming. Jerry was the first to stir. She colored with confusion. + +"Steve, I--I beg your pardon! I--I shouldn't have called her--mother. +But I was so--so surprised. It seemed for a moment as if she held out +welcoming arms to me." She turned away. Courtlandt gripped her shoulders +with a force which hurt. + +"She is your mother--I----" he released her abruptly and threw open a +door. "These are your rooms. Mine are opposite. You see we have but one +story in the ranch-house. Your bags are in your room. Ming Soy will come +to help you when you ring." He put his two hands on her shoulders again. +"I'm glad that you wore my roses." + +"Your roses! Why I thought--I thought----" Her voice was drenched with +disappointment. Steve's face was a mask, only his eyes seemed alive as +he removed his hands and asked crisply: + +"That they came from Greyson?" + +"No, Steve, no! How could you think such a thing? I thought that Dad had +relented and--and had sent the roses to----" she winked her lashes +furiously but not before Steve had seen the diamond-like drops that +beaded them. His voice was tender as he comforted: + +"Your father will come round, Jerry. Just believe with old Doc Rand that +things have a way of coming marvelously, unbelievably right. You are not +sorry that you came, are you?" + +"I'll say I'm not!" She had essayed an imitation of his voice and words +but the emotion which had threatened her all day surged in her heart and +betrayed her. Steve caught her hands in his. + +"Don't look like that, little girl. You're going to love the life here +and the ranch and--and--and Goober," he added with a short laugh as the +dog bounded into the room. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Jerry Courtlandt sent her horse up the slope and came out on a bluff +above the Double O. As the girl sat motionless looking off over the +plain, an artist would have labeled the picture she made, "A Study in +Browns," before he slipped it into his mental portfolio. Her mount, +Patches, was a deep mahogany in color, her riding boots were but a shade +lighter than his satin skin, her breeches and long coat were of khaki, +her blouse was fawn color, her eyes were deeply, darkly bronze. +Rebellious tendrils of lustrous brown hair escaped from under the broad +brim of the campaign hat she wore, one of Steve's army hats with its +gold and black cord. He had insisted upon her using it. The hats she had +brought to the ranch had been urban affairs, not designed to shade her +eyes from the glare of white roads. As she had had no money with which +to buy another she had taken it. + +Jerry pulled it off as she took a deep breath of the glorious air +asparkle with bubbles of life. She loved the spot. Every day that she +rode she stopped to look down upon the valley. Far away among the +foot-hills a silver stream cleft rocky bluffs, then coiled and foamed +its way until it broadened and flashed in gleaming waterfalls. In places +where it boiled and frothed rustic bridges had been thrown across. +Toward the east lay the sturdily built stock corrals, storehouses spick +and span with whitewash, towering silos. Toward the west were fenced-off +alfalfa fields and beyond them a mosaic of varicolored pasture-lands, +dotted with grazing herds, stretched out to the foot-hills. + +Beyond the foot-hills loomed mountains darkly green with pine and spruce +to the timberline, above which reared sombre, forbidding rock until +against the ragged edge of gold-lined clouds, white peaks flamed crimson +in the slanting sun. Toward the north she could see the gap in the +mountains through which the railroad cut. The gap was known as the +Devil's Hold-up because of the natural facilities it had offered--and +still offered for that matter,--to the class whose pleasing pastime it +had been to maintain their divine right in the other man's property at +the point of a gun. + +Almost beneath her, approached by a broad, well-graded road, lay the +ranch-house. Telephone wires from all directions rounded up the +activities of the Double O at the office near by. The house was a +rambling structure of rudely squared timbers set in fieldstone and +cement. Its one story was built around a court on which many doors +opened and which was gayly brocaded with shrubs and plants in blossom +this late June day. + +Where was Steve, Jerry wondered, as her eyes lingered on the office +building. She saw him less and less as the days passed, as more and more +he assumed the responsibilities of the Double O. He was off before she +was up in the morning riding the range or in the dairies or barns until +night. She had hardly believed her eyes when on the evening after her +arrival, she had seen Steve and Tommy Benson, his secretary, come into +the living-room in dinner coats. Courtlandt had answered her unspoken +question with the explanation that it had been Nicholas Fairfax's +unvarying rule to shed ranch problems at night, and he had found that +getting into the dress of the city helped. A man just naturally would +curb an impulse to toddle down to the corral if he were in dinner +clothes. The two didn't seem to go together. + +Steve had appointed Tommy Benson her squire, he himself had so little +time to give her. A laugh curved Jerry's lips as she thought of Tommy. +He was a slight youth with a face of one of Raphael's cherubs grown up +and a book for his inseparable companion. His almost yellow hair was +short and wavy, his eyes were a brilliant blue, his skin was as nearly +pink and white as human skin can be after it has been ranch-seasoned, +his lips seemed made for laughter. He and Steve had been officers in +the same company and when they returned from overseas the two had gone +to the ranch to recuperate. Tommy had remained there to please his +mother. He was in the throes of a virulent attack of stage fever and +Mrs. Benson had begged him to wait a few years before he decided upon +acting as his career. She had assured him that if after reflection he +still felt that it was the profession for him she would attend his +première without a qualm. So he had stayed at the Double O. There was +plenty of money back of him and he had grown to love the ranch life, +apparently. + +Tommy was taking the responsibility of training the lady of the ranch +seriously, that is as seriously as a boy could who was forever +expressing his emotions and convictions in the words of the immortals, +Jerry thought with a smile. She had ridden since she was a little girl +but Tommy was making her proficient in some hair-raising stunts. Steve +didn't know of those but he had ordained that she was to learn to saddle +Patches, that she must be able to fasten and unfasten gates securely +while mounted, that she was to rope and shoot from her horse's back. + +Her days were full but filled with her own pleasures. She did nothing +for others, she thought ruefully as she gazed down upon the smoke rising +from the cook-house chimney. Her only link with the outside world was +Sandy, the carrier, whose appearance sent her imagination winging into +the past whenever she saw him. The queer little postman wore a tall gray +hat which, Tommy Benson insisted, was a left-over from the wardrobe of +Gentleman Rick whose zeal as a promoter of pleasure in Slippy Bend in +the nineties had lured men through miles of wilderness. Jerry often sat +on the wall beside the mail-box to await his coming. He always had news +and a quaint bit of philosophy if he hadn't letters. Letters! There +weren't many for her. She had had hosts of friends in school and college +but she heard from them seldom now. Her conscience administered a +vicious pinch. Yes, it was quite all her fault, she answered it. The +girls apparently had adored her, but she had been unable to accept their +devotion with single-minded pleasure. Always in the back of her mind had +skulked the ghost of that first home near the coal-fields. Would they +have cared for her could they have seen that? After her marriage events +had moved too rapidly for her to pick up the scattered lines of her +correspondence. However, she no longer had that excuse, her days now +were long and uneventful. She would write to every friend she had. It +would be like sending out a fleet of ships. How eagerly she would await +the return cargoes. + +She broke into her own good resolutions with a laugh. To send out +letters one must have stamps. She had used the last one she possessed +yesterday and to get more she must have money. "Money!" Jerry laughed +again as she repeated the word aloud. Conditions were reversed now as to +money, she thought as she stared unseeingly off at the mountain tops +which pricked the crimsoning sky. Steve had the income from his uncle's +large property as long as he remained on the ranch. It would not be his +unreservedly until a year from the day they had arrived at the Double O. +She had persistently refused to accept money from him. If she wrote to +the girls she would need a regiment of postage stamps. If she could +earn---- + +Her eyes flashed earthward from the mountains as she heard the click of +a hoof against rock and the creak of saddle leather. A horse and rider +topped the slope. It was Courtlandt on his favorite mount, Blue Devil, a +horse all spirit, shining blue-black satin. He was a regal creature from +his flowing mane to his silken fetlock. He nosed Patches who showed an +undignified haste to snuggle up to him in return. + +"Did you think you had lost me, Steve?" Jerry asked gayly as she noted +the seriousness of his blue eyes and the crease in his forehead which +his broad-brimmed Stetson was not drawn low enough to hide. How +unnecessarily good looking he was in his riding clothes, she thought. He +wore a black tie with his khaki shirt, his heavy riding breeches were +tucked into the tops of high boots which laced up the front and had +curious sloping heels. He had removed one of his riding gloves and the +dark stone of his ring, which bore the seal of the Courtlandts, made the +browned hand seem white in contrast. He gave the impression of being +absolute master of his horse and of any situation which might arise. +Jerry's heart unaccountably skipped a beat as he answered her question. + +"No, I saw you from the road. You looked like one of Dallin's bronzes. +Where is Tommy?" with quick displeasure. + +"Don't glower. I sent him back. I don't want him always at my heels. I +love to come up here alone and, figuratively speaking, look down upon my +blessings." + +"Was that what you were doing when I came up? Your expression belied +you. Instead of looking beatific, you looked worried." + +She laughed up at him with warm friendliness as she bent forward and +confided in a theatrical whisper: + +"You are right. I was figuring finances. I have just----" The color +flew to her face as she thought of what he might infer. She stumbled on +quite conscious that she was making matters worse. "I'm about at the end +of my stamp book and--and--I've developed a sudden fervor for letter +writing and--and----" she broke off her breathless explanation as he +laid his finely-shaped hand on her saddle-bow. Even back in the Manor +days his hands had fascinated her. + +"I'm glad that you've brought up the subject of finances, Jerry. The +money question between you and me has got to be cleared up, and cleared +up now. You've had your way long enough. Don't be foolish any longer, +little girl, I----" + +"I shall not take your money, Steve. Would you take mine?" then as his +eyes darkened stormily, "Oh, truly, I didn't mean to rouse sleeping +dogs--but--but I won't take it. I do nothing for you--if I even had +anything to do about the house but Ming and Hopi Soy run the household +motor noiselessly, perfectly, with every cylinder hitting. If there was +anything I could do----" + +"There is something you can do." + +Jerry's heart flew to her throat. What did he mean? He looked grim and +determined. + +"W-what is it?" she asked faintly. She put on her hat, tightened her +reins unconsciously. + +Courtlandt laughed. The sternness left his face. There was an +expression in his eyes which she couldn't translate as he teased: + +"Don't run, Jerry. You don't trust me over much, do you? To return to +finances, if you want to help you can do so tremendously by taking over +the accounts and my correspondence. Tommy's had that job but I need him +outside. Ranlett's leaving. You'll soon get the hang of the accounting +and it won't take much of your time." + +"But if it took all I'd love to do it, Steve. Shall I have a desk in the +office?" she asked eagerly. + +"If you agree to accept a salary." + +"But I don't want to be paid for helping." + +He turned his horse's head toward the slope. + +"That settles it. I shall send to the agency to-morrow for a private +secretary." As she did not answer he looked at her with a smile which +lighted eyes and lips. "Now will you be good?" + +She regarded him with oblique scrutiny. With an adorable imitation of +Pete Gerrish she drawled: + +"You're sure puttin' it straight, Chief. You win. Now shall we mosey +'long home?" With a touch of spurs she wheeled Patches and headed him +down the slope. + +"Why is Ranlett leaving?" she asked as their horses trotted side by side +along the hard white ranch road. Courtlandt's face reddened darkly. + +"Because I thought it time to determine the status of the alien on +Double O ranch. Ranlett had a couple of men in the outfit who have not +taken out first naturalization papers, even, who had been pointing out +to my boys deficiencies of the government. They're flares set here to +ignite any chaff of discontent which may be blowing about." + +"But you're not against freedom of speech, Steve?" + +"You bet I am against the inflammatory brand on the tongue of an alien. +What is he in this country but a guest? If a man came to stay in my home +and began a systematic undermining of the ideas and ideals on which that +home was built, what do you think I'd do to him?" + +"I'll say you'd sure put him out, Chief," with Gerrish's drawl and a +little rush of laughter. + +"I'll say I would. So quick he'd wonder what struck him. Why should the +government put up with their vicious patter? It's bad enough when an +honest-to-God citizen breaks loose and turns red, but for a man who is +here by courtesy--well, as I remarked before, there is no place for him +on the Double O ranch. Aliens will keep their jobs here only so long as +they conform to my ideas of fitness." + +"You're right, Steve. I have never thought of agitators in that light +but they are a sort of human slow-match timed to fire a mine of +discontent, aren't they? And half the time the mine doesn't know what +it is blowing-up about. How do the men feel about Ranlett's defection?" + +"I haven't asked them. What's the infernal row?" he demanded as they +drew rein at the gate of the court. Jerry looked at him in surprise. His +tone was that of a man whose nerves were taut to snapping point. She +slid from her horse and dropped the reins. Patches loped quietly but +determinedly in the direction of the corral and supper. Blue Devil, with +a reproachful glance at the deserter, followed daintily in the steps of +his master as Courtlandt and the girl entered the garden. The court was +a riot of plants and shrubs. The air was sweet with the fragrance of +roses just coming into bloom and rent by agitated yelps and a hoarse, +croaking voice. + +When Jerry and Steve reached storm centre they saw a combination of +scarlet, blue and green, swaying precariously on the top of a shutter. +It was José's parrot, Benito, flinging to the breeze the most +vituperative epithets a rich and racy vocabulary could suggest. Below +him Goober sat on his haunches. Between barks his tongue dripped, his +mouth hung open as though in riotous laughter. His tawny eyes flashed +ruby light. Tommy Benson, his finger between the pages of a book, his +hair rampant, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth, egged on the two as +he quoted from his favorite "Ancient Mariner": + + "'The wedding guest sat on a stone, + He could not choose but hear; + And thus spake on that ancient man, + The bright-eyed mariner.'" + +His eloquence incited the bird to renewed effort to express his +sentiments. Jerry clapped her hands over her ears and dashed into the +house. Steve whistled. The dog bounded in his direction, his quarry +forgotten in the joy of seeing his master. Courtlandt seized him by the +collar. + +"What do you mean, you sinner?" he demanded sternly. Goober looked as +though he were about to offer an explanation when the gaudy parrot, who +had been rocking back and forth on the shutter, croaked: + +"Lick him, Bo! Lick him!" + +Tommy dropped to the ground and rolled with laughter. José came hurrying +out of the house. He swept off his hat with a wide bow. His face had the +look of a much-shriveled mummy, his solitary tooth waggled precariously +as he talked. + +"_Que hay! Señor!_ One teeng I tell you. It ees that wild devil of a dog +that makes my leetle Benito to curse. _Madre de Dios_, but he ees +one--one----" + +"You've said it, José," encouraged Benson as he sat up and wiped his +eyes. He took his knees in an affectionate embrace. "He sure is one +little curser, that Benito of yours. Want me to help get him down?" + +"No--no, Señor Tommee. He come to me." He reached up and after a few +protesting squawks the parti-colored bird settled on the Mexican's +shoulder. As José left the court with him, the parrot shivered, flapped +his wings, winked at Tommy and croaked hoarsely: + +"What's all the shootin'?" + +Tommy gave vent to a whoop of appreciation before he turned to +Courtlandt, who was regarding the ranch-house door unseeingly. He gave +him a resounding whack on the shoulder as he ranted: + + "'How is't with you + That you do bend your eye on vacancy?'" + +"Quit your histrionics, Tommy. Has Pete Gerrish been here for me?" + +"Nope. Nothing doing." Benson stroked Blue Devil's satiny nose and +rested his face against it as he asked in a low tone, "Any news of those +stray calves?" + +Courtlandt's brows met in a quick frown. + +"No, but of course we'll find them. It's absurd to think a man can get +away with rustling in this enlightened twentieth century, that we've +got to revert to shooting and----" + +"That's what the majority of the world claimed in 1914," interrupted +Benson dryly. + +"Don't be a blamed pessimist, Tommy. I'm going to take you off the books +and use you outside." + +"Oh boy!" he voiced the twentieth century equivalent to the nineteenth +century "Great Scott!" in delighted approval. "If you do that and +Ranlett has been crooked, he hasn't a prayer. I'm the original Sherlock +Holmes. Watch me get him! Pete's boys have all they can do now without +turning detectives. You'd think that Gerrish had just been put in charge +of a new outfit. He's on location every minute, reëstimating the number +of head each pasture should carry, weighing up the stock, sifting out +the undesirables. Take it from me, old dear, he knows every calf by +name, what it's worth now and what it will bring one year from now. He +claims that Ranlett has been underselling. I'll ride the fences +to-morrow. If you say the word I'll take Jerry along and we'll have a +corking time." + +"You and Jerry usually have a corking time together, don't you?" Benson +showed his teeth in a flashing smile. + +"I'll say we do. I don't like to talk about myself, but----" + +Courtlandt laughed. + +"You don't care for yourself one little bit, do you, Tommy? By all means +take Jerry if she cares to go. Beat it down to the corral with Blue +Devil, will you? That is if you dare ride him," Steve amended with a +laugh. + +Tommy mounted with the agility of a monkey, wheeled his horse and +declaimed theatrically: + + "I dare do all that may become a man + Who dares do more is none!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + "Work is the grandest cure for all the maladies and miseries + that ever beset mankind.--CARLYLE." + + +Jerry nodded approvingly at the quotation above her desk in the office. +It had been hung there in Old Nick's day and was quite as pertinent in +her case as it might have been in his. To be sure, their maladies +differed. His couldn't by the remotest possibility have been lack of +money, she thought with a laugh. + +Steve had installed her at her desk two weeks ago and had then forgotten +her, presumably. Tommy Benson was giving her instructions as to her +duties, but even his attentions were episodic. Ranlett had departed +swearing vengeance in the good old nineteenth century style and Steve +and Gerrish were out from morning till night taking account of stock and +checking up. Tommy was riding range and being general utility man. +Neither he nor Steve knew how closely she had remained at her desk. She +must make good and she must accomplish it without taking too much of +Tommy's time. As Steve had insisted upon paying her a month's salary in +advance she had surreptitiously sent for a correspondence course on +bookkeeping. She was making Sandy's life miserable because the material, +which she expected would make her efficient in twenty-four hours, had +not arrived. + +Arms on the back of her swivel-chair, one knee in the seat she twisted +slowly about. The room inspired the same sense of breathless interest it +had the first time she entered it. Two walls were encased in glass. +Behind the glass hung a collection of riding equipment and firearms. +Some of the pieces dated back to the epoch-making journey of the +pathfinders, Lewis and Clark, some to the first white settlers in the +region west of the Mississippi. There were saddles rich in silver +filigree which had come from the southwest of the cattle country; there +were saddles with short round skirts, open stirrups, narrow and rimmed +with iron; some had borders and emblems stamped on the leather, some had +dark stains. There were chaps, fringed and unfringed, in infinite +variety. There were coiled ropes of rawhide and of well worn grass; +there were guns and knives and tomahawks, there was a stained and +tattered Stars and Stripes. + +"You fairly ooze atmosphere." Jerry mused aloud, her dreamy brown eyes +on the saddles. "If you could speak what couldn't you tell of romance +and comedy and tragedy. Herds, bad men, _voyageurs_, rustlers, settlers, +prairie-schooners and Indians, you must have seen them all." Her voice +had dropped to a whisper. Its tenseness roused her from what was fast +becoming a vermilion orgy of imagination. She swung her chair round and +dropped into it with a laugh and the reflection, "Pete Gerrish says that +when a person talks to himself he's sure in for adventure." + +She picked up a typewritten letter and regarded it with vainglorious +elation. Not so bad! There was a spiral effect at the end of one +sentence but on the whole it was a creditable affair for a person who +had never used a typewriter till the week before and who was relying on +the hunt-and-punch method for progress. Her already flushed cheeks took +on a deeper tinge as she looked at the filing cases. Would she ever +acquire a feeling of even bowing acquaintance with them, she wondered; +they were most awe-inspiring. + +The sun lay warmly on the fields outside, a gay little breeze spiced +with pine danced in at the open window, stirred the curls at the nape of +the girl's neck and whisked out again. Jerry looked out longingly, shook +her head. "Remember, you're a daughter of toil now," she adjured the +vagabond impulse which urged her to be up and away on her horse. She +resolutely turned her back on the tempting out-of-doors and picked up +her letter. + +"'Gentlemen,'" she read aloud, "'We are shipping'--now why should I have +typed that slipping--'thirty head of Guernseys on the----'" A shadow +from the open door fell on her paper. Absorbed in her corrections, she +spoke without looking up from her desk: + +"You are wanted at the Lower Field, Pete. The Chief just 'phoned that +more calves are missing. That----" as no colorful ejaculation followed +her announcement, Gerrish swore with fascinating facility when he was +deeply moved, she looked up in surprise. The smile which the thought of +Pete had brought stiffened on her lips. She sprang to her feet and +pushed back her chair. A man leaned against the door, a giant of a man +fully six feet two. In a flash she sized him up. He was of different +caliber from the "boys" of the outfit. No one of them would have stood +with his hat on in her presence. The stranger's Mexican sombrero, pushed +far back on his head, revealed rough red hair; his eyes were a hard +blue; his nose suggested the beak of a hawk; his mouth was his best +feature, it looked as though it might have been tender before the +insidious processes of discouragement and recklessness got in their +work. One temple gave the impression of having been knocked in and from +the dent to the corner of his lips ran an angry, wrinkled scar. It +contributed a curiously saturnine expression to what in youth might have +been a pleasing face. From feet to waist his clothing was reminiscent of +the army; from the belt up it might have belonged to a rider, even to +the gay purple and crimson bandana at his neck. The stranger smiled +boldly as his eyes met the girl's. Jerry's heart did a handspring and +righted. A fleeting cloud of apprehension dimmed the brilliance of her +eyes. + +"If you are looking for a job you'll have to come back after five," she +volunteered with her best in-charge-of-the-office manner. "The manager +is off on the range." She could have cheerfully bitten out her tongue as +she noted the smile with which the man received the information. + +"I'm no cow-puncher," he answered disdainfully. "I'm not hunting a job +here. I'm looking for the railroad. I took the ranch road by mistake, +but, now that I am here----" He straightened his great shoulders, pulled +his soft hat jauntily over one ear with his big hairy hand, and took a +step into the room. "Well, you're too pretty a girl to be left alone, +_sabe_? I always had a taste for stenogs." + +Jerry's heart did another turn. She hated the man's eyes. Hers flashed +to the desk. There was no use trying to telephone, he might stop her; +besides, the ranch was an affair of magnificent distances; it would take +time for anyone she called to reach the office. Ming and Hopi would be +of as much assistance as two Chinese dolls. She must depend upon herself +to get rid of the creature. She swiftly computed the relative splashing +values of the ink-well and the pot of paste. The ink had it. Her hand +crept along the desk. + +"Don't come any nearer. If you're wise you'll go at once." + +"I get you. Here's-your-hat-what's-your-hurry stuff, yes? But I think +I'll stay. I've just come up from the border. You're the handsomest +white girl I've seen in months. Come on, be friends. I like that +gilt-edged effect in your hair and eyes. Take it from me----" + +Jerry was white to the lips. She lifted the ink-well. + +"You'd better go or I----" + +"What's your business here?" a crisp voice interrupted from the door. + +"Steve!" + +With the startled whisper the stiffening departed from Jerry's knees. +She sank back in her chair. The stranger wheeled with military precision +then, in a startled voice laden with pride and affection, cried: + +"_Comment ça va, mon Lieutenant!_" + +"Carl! Oh boy, Carl, where did you come from?" + +The undertone in Courtlandt's voice brought the tears stinging to +Jerry's eyes. Steve gripped the stranger's hand as though he would never +let it go. The two patted one another's shoulders with their free hands +and beamed with suspiciously bright eyes. + +"What good wind blew you here, Beechy?" Steve demanded. "Jerry, this is +Carl Beechy, who was my top sergeant in France. That scar he wears was +intended for me, and--and--he took it. Carl, this is my--this is Mrs. +Courtlandt." + +"Mrs. Courtlandt! Your wife, Lieutenant? _C'est drôle, ça!_ +I--I--thought----" The girl had never seen such contrition as clouded +Beechy's eyes as they met hers. There was not a trace of recklessness in +them now; they were frankly pleading. She hesitated for a moment, then +smiled. + +"I'm glad that you came to the Double O, Sergeant Beechy. It was +fortunate that you arrived when you did, Steve. Mr. Beechy was just +going. You--you might not have recognized him had you met him on the +road." Her lips twitched traitorously as her glance flashed to the +ink-well on the desk. + +Beechy's eyes sent her a wireless of passionate gratitude and +admiration. Then he turned to Courtlandt. + +"You are the last person I expected to see here, Lieutenant." + +"Weren't you looking for me, Carl? I told you----" + +"I know, you told me to look you up, but--two years is a long time and +I've found men forget. I went to Mexico after I left hospital. I've been +drifting till now----" He broke off the sentence sharply. His face had +the curious look which tanned skin has when the blood has been drawn +away from it. Jerry could have sworn that there was fright in his eyes. +Did Steve see what she saw? Evidently not, for he exclaimed: + +"When you didn't turn up I thought you'd re-enlisted." + +"Me! Nothing doing, Lieutenant. The next time my country calls it'll +have to call so loud that I'll hear it at the other end of the world. +No, me and the U.S.A. is through." + +"That's fool talk, Beechy. I've heard it before. If you were needed you +and every man who talks like you would be the first to answer the call +to the colors. I know you. You jumped in at the first sign of trouble. +You'd do it again. Well, there's a job for you right here." + +The man's lips stiffened. A look of dog-like devotion flooded his eyes. + +"That's just like you, but--but I can't take it, Lieutenant. I've signed +up for--for something else, and you know--there's--there's honor among +thieves," with a strained attempt at levity which was belied by his +eyes. He looked at Jerry. "I never knew what a man could be till I met +the Lieutenant, Mrs. Courtlandt. I'd always thought that a rich guy was +bound to be soft, but he's tested steel. I've got to beat it this +minute. I--I was telling your wife when I came in, Lieutenant, that I +was looking for the railroad and took the ranch road by mistake." + +"But you can't go, Beechy. Good Lord, man, you've got to eat somewhere, +at least stop for chow. Come along to the bunk-house. I want the boys to +know you." He turned to Jerry. "Did you get hold of Pete?" + +"No, I couldn't reach him. I--I thought that it was he when Mr. Beechy +appeared." + +"Let it go then." He looked at her keenly. "Have you been out of the +office this week? I thought not," as she colored faintly. "Don't do any +more work to-day--please. Let's go, Carl." + +Beechy turned to Jerry. He twisted his hat awkwardly in his big hands. + +"Good-bye, Mrs. Courtlandt. I hope that you'll--you'll----" + +Jerry held out her hand with a smile. + +"I shall always remember what you did for your lieutenant, Sergeant +Beechy. Good luck; if you don't like the railroad come back to us." He +gripped the hand she extended. Jerry gave his a warning pressure as she +looked up and saw Steve regarding them intently. With a squeeze which +made her see fifty-seven varieties of stars and their collateral +branches, Beechy released her hand. + +"Let's go, Lieutenant." + +Jerry looked after the two as they strode away broad shoulder almost +touching broad shoulder. Had they been girls they would have their arms +around each other's waists, she was sure. What strange friendships the +war had welded. Braggadocio had slipped from Beechy like a garment the +instant he recognized Courtlandt's voice. He had assumed an entirely +different personality. Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. The soldier was a much +safer citizen than the man of peace, she told herself with a reminiscent +shiver. + +She picked up the papers on her desk, then dropped them. Steve had been +emphatic about her going out. Suddenly she felt that she couldn't endure +four walls a moment longer. She must be in the open. She pulled down the +top of her desk and dashed through the flowering court to the house. +She called Ming Soy to bring lunch to her room. She telephoned the +corral to send up Patches. + +In her cool, silvery gray linen riding clothes Jerry drew an ecstatic +breath as she gave Patches his head. He pirouetted for a moment then +settled to a steady canter. On all sides spread fields and pastures in +luxuriant greenness. Beyond them mountains swept to hazy, purple +heights. In one of the fields a rider turned and looked at her as she +passed. She leaned forward in her saddle, opened a gate and closed it; +she hoped the man had noticed with what ease it had been accomplished. +Great blooded Shorthorns turned ruminative eyes upon her; she had seen +women with that same expression when at a society function another +entered as to whose social status they were in doubt. Off in a pen a +perfect specimen of pure-blooded Ayreshire bull pawed the ground and +sent showers of earth spraying on his satiny back. Where the trail left +the flower-dotted meadow a spring bubbled from under a mushroom-shaped +rock. Jerry dismounted and knelt for a drink, more for the feel of the +sparkling water against her lips than because of thirst. + +Where should she go, she wondered as she mounted Patches. She had an +inspiration. She would make a neighborly call on the wife of the +ex-service man at Bear Creek ranch. Jerry had never seen her, but Sandy +the Carrier, who was the artery for news in the county, had told her +that she was lonely. + +The water was high in the stream. The banks were pink with wild roses +and among their denseness the meadow-larks kept up an invisible chorus. +Jerry forced Patches to a coquettish prance across the rustic bridge. It +was there that the apex of the B C triangle of land forced its way +between the Double O and the X Y Z. She knew the place; Tommy had shown +her the dividing fences. From where the rushing water narrowed and +whitened over a rocky bed an aged pack-trail staggered into a cuplike +ravine. Rejuvenated by the sunshine in the hollow it straightened and +sprinted straight as an arrow for the foot-hills. The sun shone warmly +on lustrous fields. The air was spicy with the breath of pines. A rabbit +hopped from cover and skurried back again. + +As Patches, with ears pricked, silky neck preened, stepped daintily +along the trail the girl sang happily: + + "'My road calls me, lures me + West, east, south and north; + + "'Most roads lead me homeward, + But my road leads men forth-- + To add more miles to the tal----'" + +The last word was broken in the middle as they rounded a clump of +cottonwoods and came suddenly upon a horseman with a small bunch of +sheep. He jerked his hat low over his eyes as the girl hailed him. + +"Good-afternoon! I am looking for Bear Creek ranch. Will you direct me?" + +Without answering in words the man pointed toward a clutter of buildings +in a slight depression. Back of them a scantily timbered hill, in places +rich with grass dotted with grazing sheep, gave the impression of an +animated Corot. Before Jerry could speak the stranger had galloped off. + +"A responsive party," she soliloquized. "Was he afraid of me, I wonder? +He registered guilt, all right. If he is the owner of B C ranch Uncle +Nick and Bruce Greyson were buncoed. That man is hiding something." + +A woman flung open the cabin door as Jerry rode up. She was young and +pretty. Her clear, full eyes reminded the girl of Ox-eyed Juno. She was +dressed in a bungalow apron of hectic design but scrupulous neatness. A +wistful smile trembled on her lips as she asked: + +"Have--have you lost your way?" + +Jerry Courtlandt shook her head and slipped from the saddle. The gold in +her brown eyes predominated as she fastened Patches to a post and +approached the door. + +"Lost? No, I came to call. I am Geraldine Courtlandt, your neighbor at +the Double O." + +The woman's face colored a delicate shell pink. Her expression was +radiance tempered by incredulity. + +"How--how nice of you, Mrs. Courtlandt, how human. I--I am Mrs. Jim +Carey. Nell Carey. Won't you come in?" + +Jerry liked her dignity. She showed no consciousness of the difference +between her three-room shack and the luxurious ranch-house from which +the visitor had come. "Thoroughbred," thought the girl as she preceded +her hostess into a small but immaculately clean room. With a happy laugh +tinged with excitement, Nell Carey waved her to a seat. + +"Do make yourself comfortable. If you'll excuse me for a moment I'll +bring some tea. The kettle has just boiled. You won't vanish while I'm +gone, will you? Promise. I have a horrible fear that your being here may +be nothing but an iridescent dream." + +Jerry's heart smarted with self-reproach. What heathen people can be and +yet be neighbors, she thought. Here was this girl, and she was a girl in +spite of that betraying heap of white sewing on the machine in the +corner, craving companionship, and she spent hours and hours riding +about the country with never a thought of being neighborly. She looked +about the room. What part of it wasn't taken up by a roll-top desk was +filled by a table fairly groaning under its load of magazines. Three +chairs and the machine completed the furnishings; that is, unless a worn +violin case in a corner came under that head. She hastily cleared an end +of the table as Nell Carey entered with a tea-tray. + +"Thank you. You are the first woman who has been inside my house since I +came here a year ago," she announced breathlessly. Her eyes glowed, her +cheeks were flushed. "Of course Jim has flivvered me to town, but--but I +haven't met anyone whom I cared to have here. Cream?" + +The loneliness of it, Jerry thought, as she watched her hostess pour +thick cream into the fragrant tea with hands that trembled. Then she +remembered that she had been at the Double O three months, and that +except for Ming Soy and Mrs. Simms, the foreman's wife at Upper Farm, +she had not seen a woman. Curious that she had not missed them. Doc Rand +had been as neighborly as his busy life permitted; Bruce Greyson had +been away from the X Y Z since her arrival. With Steve and Tommy she had +been absolutely content. Why? Her thoughts bolted on a tour of +investigation; she dragged them back to answer a question from her +hostess: + +"Not another cookie, thank you. I've been a gourmand, but they are +delicious." + +"Jim likes them." + +"I wonder if I saw your husband by the stream?" + +"No. Jim left yesterday on a hunt for help. He'll only be away four days +but it seems years to look forward to. You must have met our +range-rider, Bill Small. He dropped from the sky, figuratively speaking, +ten months ago. I call him the Man of Mystery. He never talks about +himself, never mentions his people, never has letters, but he's a shark +for work and he plays beautifully. That is his." She nodded toward the +violin case in the corner. "The boys from the Double O and the X Y Z hit +the trail for the Bear Creek every chance they can get to hear him +play." + +The sun topped the cap of a mountain like a mammoth red button as Jerry +leaned from the saddle and held out her hand. + +"You will come and see me, won't you?" + +Nell Carey's lips quivered betrayingly. + +"Of course, if you really want me. But it will be after----" Jerry gave +the hand she held an impulsive squeeze. + +"I'll come here again before that. Aren't you madly happy? I must hurry +or they'll have the entire outfit hunting for me. Good-bye!" + +As she reached the pack-trail she turned and waved and the woman +standing alone by her door waved back. What an atom she seemed in the +wide spaces about her. As she rode Jerry's mind was full of the home she +had left behind. What courage Nell Carey had had to follow her man into +a wilderness like that. And now a little child was coming. She thought +of her father, of his anger because his daughter had insisted upon +accompanying the man she had married to the Double O ranch with all its +luxury. Men were curious creatures. + +The sun had disappeared, fluffy islands of cloud, pink, lemon and +violet, floated above the tops of the mountains, the sky was fast +purpling, there was a suspicion of razor-edge in the crystal-clear air +as Jerry unlatched the gate by the road and closed it after her. She +gave Patches his head and raced toward the ranch-house. In the distance +she saw two horsemen galloping toward her. Steve and Pete Gerrish! She +glanced guiltily at her wrist watch. She was late. Did Steve care enough +to be anxious? The thought gave a tingling sense of excitement. As she +came near the two riders she touched Patches with her spurs, then pulled +him up suddenly. He stop-slid on his haunches, a bit of circus-variety +of horsemanship which Tommy had taught her. She pulled off her +broad-brimmed hat with a sweep reminiscent of José at his best and +called gayly: + +"_Que hay, señors! Buenos dias!_ La señora has been on a wild devil of a +ride, yes?" + +She laughed up into Steve's white face. He moistened his lips as though +they were stiff. She had worried him then. Pete Gerrish's eyes regarded +her with frank admiration. + +"Can she ride, Chief? I want to know! Can she ride! Steve is scared, +ma'am. There's a lot of strangers snooping round and he----" + +"Where have you been, Jerry?" Courtlandt had recovered his voice. + +"Don't beat me, Steve!" Patches was loping along between Blue Devil and +Gerrish's big sorrel. Encouraged by the foreman's quickly suppressed +"Haw-haw" at her pleasantry, she went on, "I've been to Bear Creek ranch +for tea." + +"To the B C alone?" + +"Do I look as though I carried concealed escorts?" with tormenting +charm. "I had an acute attack of conscience. It occurred to me that I +had been something of a heathen to ignore little Mrs. Carey, though I +didn't know that she was little when I went. I only knew what Sandy had +told me, that there was a woman at Bear Creek hungering for someone of +her own sex to talk to." + +"You are to be commended more for your conscience than your common +sense," retorted Courtlandt dryly. "Don't do it again." They reached the +ranch-house steps as he spoke. He slipped to the ground and before Jerry +could protest had lifted her from the saddle. She felt the muscles of +his arms twitch in the second he held her. Before she could speak he had +gathered up the bridles of the horses and started for the corral. The +brown depths of the girl's eyes were troubled as she looked after him. +What menaced the good-comradeship which their arrival at the Double O +had established between herself and Steve? Now he reminded her of a wary +foe thrusting and retreating on the slightest pretext. What could she +have done to change him so? She looked up at Gerrish, a puzzled question +in her eyes. He shook his head as his met them. + +"We mustn't mind if the Chief does act a little locoed, ma'am. He's +walkin' right into trouble. It's Ranlett the Skunk, saving your +presence. Somebody's cayuse got rid of some hobbles when the fence was +cut where the Double O and the X Y Z join, and a bunch of calves has +disappeared. There ain't hide nor hair of 'em to be seen. But, shucks, +don't tell the Chief I told you. I'll mosey 'long now." + +Jerry looked after him with narrowed eyes. "Where the Double O and the X +Y Z join," Pete had said. That was where Bear Creek ranch came in! Like +a movie close-up came a vision of the solitary horseman she had hailed, +the man who had dropped from the air, who never talked about himself or +his people, who never received letters, the Man of Mystery. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Courtlandt backed his horse suddenly into the shadow of the quaking +aspens which were fluttering their gold in the sunshine. He adjusted the +field-glasses which he carried slung from his saddle-fork and looked +intently at the bluff which reared from the western bank of the stream. +He was right. There were two men there. The day being Sunday, ordinarily +he would have thought nothing of it, but disturbing things were +happening every day now and Instinct and Caution were riding close to +his saddle-bow. He had the sense of living on the thin crust of a +simmering volcano. He couldn't distinguish their faces, but he would be +willing to swear that the men belonged to the Double O outfit. + +Above the roar of the stream as it made its way through the cañon formed +by the bluff he heard another sound. There was no mistaking it. Steve +had heard the curious whirr of a plane too often not to recognize it +now. It was not uncommon to have one pass over the Double O, but for +some unaccountable reason Courtlandt linked this one to those two +skulking figures at the foot of the bluff. He heard its approach for +some minutes before it came in sight above the hill which he knew was +back of the B C ranch. + +"That's queer! Looks as though it came out of Buzzard's Hollow," he +muttered as he watched the approaching aeroplane. He focussed his +glasses on the men again. They were waving something. Something white. +As though in answer to the signal the huge mechanical bird went +wing-over-wings and slid gracefully into a barrel-roll, then sailed off +into the distance. When Courtlandt's eyes returned from their journey +with the plane the two men had disappeared. + +Motionless, deep in thought, Steve sat his horse. What baneful force was +at work on the ranch? Calves had vanished as completely as though +conjured into thin air, curiously enough, though they were the least +valuable in the herd. The man who had taken them couldn't know much +about cattle. Some of the boys appeared surly and disgruntled. The stand +he had taken on the alien question couldn't account for it all. The +trouble had started a few weeks after his arrival at the ranch. He had +expected that Ranlett would resent having a much younger man than +himself in possession, but he had looked for no such series of +complications as had presented themselves. + +The situation had one compensating side. He had been too occupied with +Double O affairs to have much time for Jerry. He said something under +his breath. Blue Devil nosed round at him inquiringly. Courtlandt looked +at the sun and touched the horse lightly with his heels. It was time to +meet her now. To-day they were resuming a custom that Nicholas Fairfax +had inaugurated, which was to have luncheon beside the stream on Sunday. +Old Nick, young Nick he was then, had announced that the ceremony would +stand for church, that he would worship God through nature. He and Doc +Rand had provided the fish which were cooked on forked sticks over a +fire on the bank of the stream. The work-logged physician's weekly +holiday came to be respected in Slippy Bend. Men, women and children +endured to the limit before they would disturb the doctor's fishing +trip. + +Opposite the rendezvous Courtlandt drew rein and looked across the +stream. Benson, on his knees on the pebbly beach, was struggling with a +fire. He was in khaki riding clothes. A small book protruded from his +hip pocket. Steve smiled. To think of Tommy without a book would be like +thinking of an elephant without his trunk. Beyond the firemaker a spring +bubbled out of the bank in a clear, pure stream, above him the land +sloped smoothly, greenly up to a clump of cottonwoods. In the middle of +the clearing knelt Jerry. A lovely Jerry in riding coat and breeches, +hatless, with millions of golden motes glinting in her hair where the +sunlight rested. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glowed with +friendliness as she talked eagerly with the man who knelt on the other +side of the cloth spread between them. + +Bruce Greyson! Steve's jaws set ominously. The owner of the X Y Z was +passing something to the girl and it seemed to the prejudiced eyes of +the looker-on that their fingers touched and lingered. The two had +evidently been preparing the feast, for with a satisfied nod Jerry sank +back on her heels. She made a megaphone of her hands and called: + +"Coo-e-e! Coo-e-e-e!" + +From around a bend of the river came an answering shout. In spite of the +unaccountable fury which the sight of Greyson in just that spot had +roused in Courtlandt, he laughed as his eyes rested on the figure which +came splashing down the middle of the stream. It was Doc Rand attired in +his usual ministerial black frock coat, with the unusual addition of hip +boots of rubber. The effect of the combination would have tickled the +risibilities of a stoic, if a stoic has the luck to be blessed with +risibilities. A fish basket was slung from one shoulder, his white hair +bushed beneath the brim of his Stetson; the sun on his glasses added an +uncanny touch. His broad black tie, which he usually wore in a Byronic +bow, streamed back over his shoulders. He waved and shouted as +Courtlandt rode his horse down the bank and forded the stream. When +Steve reached the improvised table Greyson and Jerry sat at discreet +distances from it. + +"When did you get back, Bruce?" he asked as with cordial friendliness +the owner of the X Y Z sprang to his feet and gripped his extended hand. +In that instant Courtlandt saw that the whiteness of the hair about the +older man's temples was more noticeable, that it added to his fine, +upright air of distinction. + +"Yesterday. Brought my sister Paula, Vance, her husband, and a friend of +hers along. I want you all to dine with us to-morrow night. We'll show +these blown-in-the-glass New Yorkers that we are not entirely devoid of +the social graces even if we are not in the Dude-ranch neighborhood. Got +half-way to the Double O before I remembered that it was the old custom +to lunch here Sundays. You'll come, won't you?" + +"Come!" Jerry's eyes were starry with excitement. "Yes, thank--oh, what +beauties!" as Doc Rand puffed up the bank dangling a string of trout for +her inspection. + +"Take 'em, Steve. You and the Benson boy can cook 'em. Isn't that an +equitable division of labor, Mrs. Jerry? I caught them." He dropped to +the ground beside her and pulled off his hat. "These--these fishing +trips aren't what they were. I miss Nick," he confided as he mopped his +hot brow. Jerry's eyes were tender with sympathy. They wandered dreamily +to the illimitable spaces above the purple mountains as she asked +softly: + +"Where is he, Doctor Rand? Death is such a strange thing. I--I try to +keep a brave front to Peggy but--but I don't care to think about it." + +"Why should you at your age? All your thought should be on making your +life count for something. It is different with me. I find it profoundly +interesting to wonder and imagine what follows this world. For instance, +look at the question in this way. At this moment I can send my mind to +the Manor; in spirit I'm pacing the terrace with Sir Peter. I can see +the boats chugging up and down the river, can smell the queer fragrance +which the sun is baking out of the box hedge in the garden, can hear the +birds twittering among the vines. If I can do all that now, what will it +be when the spirit is not hampered by the body? It will be like flying, +won't it? That reminds me! Oh, Steve!" + +Courtlandt poked his head above the bank beneath which he and Benson +were cooking the fish. A tiny spiral of smoke rose and with it the aroma +of sizzling bacon and frying trout. + +"Did you see the plane that went over?" + +"Yes, Doc." + +"I wonder where it came from. It wasn't one of the government flyers. I +know their marks. Did you see the pilot do those stunts above the bluff? +Curious that he should pull off that cut-up stuff there, infernally +risky I call it. He couldn't have been doing it for my benefit. What do +you make of it, Steve?" + +"Probably some crazy, reckless flier getting ready for a contest," +Courtlandt observed, and disappeared below the bank. + +Doc Hand and Greyson left directly after luncheon. Benson packed the +basket which some of the boys would take back to the ranch before he +rode off to Upper Farm on an errand for Courtlandt. Steve helped Jerry +mount and swung into the saddle. The girl tightened her rein then held +up an arresting finger. + +"Listen! The Kreutzer Sonata," she whispered. + +From somewhere up-stream came the notes of a violin. There was a rare +brightness, an aerial quality to the music that most artists take too +gravely. The variations of the slow movements gave the sense of a +glorified voice. Jerry drew a long, tremulous breath as the last note +died away. + +"That must have been the Man of Mystery," she confided in a low voice, +as though fearful even at that distance of disturbing the musician. "I +don't care if he did drop from the sky, if he never receives letters, he +plays like--like an angel--if angels can play," with a laugh. Courtlandt +looked up-stream as though mystified. + +"I knew a man who played that sonata, just like that, but--but it can't +possibly be he. Who did you say you thought it was?" + +"Bill Small, the range-rider at the B C. Mrs. Carey told me about him +when I called there yesterday. She said that the boys of the Double O +and X Y Z outfits trailed over there every chance they could get to hear +him play. That reminds me," her beautiful face glowed with enthusiasm, +"I--I wonder if--if the boys of our outfit would care to have me play +and sing for them? I should so love to do it." + +"Care! I know they would. Pete says that they line up outside the court +wall after dinner on the chance of hearing you sing." + +"Really--really, Steve? I'd rather have that tribute than--than my name +in electric lights on the Great White Way. Ask them up this afternoon. +We'll have an honest-to-goodness musicale with Signora Geraldina +Courtlandta as head-liner. Hurry!" She touched her horse with her heels. +"It's a pity that Bruce Greyson didn't wait. He----" + +"Your proposition was to sing for the Double O outfit. Greyson doesn't +come in on that." + +"Ogre! I can hear my bones scrunch between those strong white teeth of +yours when you look at me like that." + +"Then remember that you're married." + +"Are you sure that the ceremony wasn't a dream?" with a provocative +ripple of laughter. "Do you know, Steve, somehow I never can think of +you as Benedick the married man. You--you are such a good-looking boy." +She was the incarnation of girlish diablerie indulging an irresistible +desire to torment. The color burned to Courtlandt's temples. He caught +the bridle and drew Patches close. His eyes compelled Jerry's. + +"Do you know what happens to a person who rocks a boat, Mrs. +Courtlandt?" he demanded autocratically. + +"Do you know what happens when a person gets unbearably dictatorial, Mr. +Courtlandt? This!" She slapped her horse smartly on the hip. Patches +threw up his head and broke from Steve's hold. The girl looked over her +shoulder. Lips and eyes challenged in unison as she sang mischievously: + + "'My road calls me, lures me + West, east, south and north; + Most roads lead me homewards, + But my road leads----'" + +Patches stepped in a gopher hole, which, feat brought the song to an +abrupt termination. + +When she met him in the late afternoon on the terrace which overlooked +the court Jerry was as coolly friendly as though the little +passage-at-arms, which had left Steve's pulses hammering, had never +taken place. The piano had been moved out and the outfit, in its Sunday +best, occupied the rustic seats and benches and overflowed to the turf +paths. The girl felt choky as the men rose to greet her. They looked so +big and fine, so like eager, wistful boys. She smiled at them through a +mist. + +"I'll sing what I think you'll like, then you must ask for anything you +want. Please smoke," she added, as she realized what it was that had +made them seem so unfamiliar. They looked from her to Steve. He nodded. +With delighted grins they dropped back to their places and proceeded +with the business of rolling cigarettes. + +Courtlandt and Benson took their places on the edge of the terrace. +Overhead the sky spread like a flawless turquoise; cameoed against the +blue were snow-tipped mountains. The court was gay and fragrant with +blossoms. In the dark shadow of the open doorway Ming and Hopi Soy made +a patch of Oriental brilliance. Jerry in her filmy pink frock looked not +unlike a flower herself, against the rosewood background of the raised +piano top, Courtlandt thought. He looked from her to the rapt, +weather-browned faces of his men. His gaze came back and rested in +fascinated interest on her foot in its pink slipper on the pedal of the +instrument. + +Jerry sang as she had never sung before, ballads, rollicking melodies. +The men drew nearer. When she stopped a swarthy Italian stepped as near +the piano as the terrace would permit. His black eyes seemed too big for +his thin face, his plastered-down hair suggested infinite labor with +brush and pomade. + +"What is it, Tony?" Jerry asked with a smile. + +"Hava you the one grand opera song?" he asked shyly. Jerry was +nonplussed. She had not thought of opera for these men. As she turned +over her music she asked: + +"You like opera, Tony?" + +"Vera much, Signora. At home we taka the leetle seester to grand opera +even if we have not mucha to eat. We feel that eef the leetle seester +hear great music, she be fine lady, not common, not bad--never." His +earnest voice broke as he realized that he was being stared at in +amazement by the outfit. He mumbled an apology and hurried back to his +seat. With a smile at Tony, Jerry placed Tales of Hoffmann on the rack. +She sang the Barcarole. As the exquisite, langorous notes floated out +over the court the shadows lengthened, the sun dropped behind the +mountains. There was no applause when she finished, no one was smoking, +the men sat motionless. Where were their thoughts, the girl wondered. +With a glance at the crimsoning foot-hills she struck a few chords and +sang softly: + + "'Day is dying in the west; + Heaven is touching earth with rest; + Wait and worship while the night + Sets her evening lamps alight + Thro' all the sky.'" + +With the second verse the men took up the song. To most of them it +brought a vivid picture of mother and home and the village church at +sunset. They sang until with the last line mountains and foot-hills took +up the words and sent them pealing into space. + +That closed the musicale. One by one the men came forward and thanked +Jerry as she stood between Courtlandt and Benson. As the last one left +the court Tommy turned to the girl. + +"I'll say that was a wonderful thing to do, Mrs. Steve." With a quick +change of tone he spoke to Courtlandt. "Marks and Schoeffleur weren't +here; did you miss them?" + +"Would you expect them to be here?" + +"I should have expected it until to-day. Ever since Marks blew in here +from nowhere two months ago I've been wondering where the dickens I'd +seen him. When that airplane passed over to-day memory flipped into +place the missing piece of the puzzle. He was a mechanician at the +hangar where I tried to develop wings in 1917." + +"You are sure of that, Tommy?" + +"Sure as shootin'. What's up? Why that 'Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell the +blood of an Englishman' scowl, old dear?" + +"Nothing, except that your information confirms me in my suspicion that +Marks and Schoeffleur signaled to that pilot when he went over." + + "'And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew + That one small head could carry all he knew,'" + +contributed Benson in mock amazement. + +Up from the corral floated a chorus of men's voices singing: + + "'Wait and worship while the night + Sets her evening lamps alight + Thro' all the sky.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Courtlandt's fine brow puckered in a thoughtful crease as he waited in +the living-room of the Double O for Jerry the next evening. Benson, on +the arm of a chair, bent forward to get the light from the lamp on the +book he had picked up. Through the open windows came the scent of pine +and dewy fields, the murmur of the distant stream as it thundered and +rippled its never-ending triumphal march to the sea, the occasional soft +lowing of cattle. + +Jerry had been tremendously pleased and excited over Greyson's +invitation to dine, Steve thought as he lighted a cigarette and blew the +smoke toward Goober. The dog was regarding him with an air of watchful +waiting. Was he to be invited to jump on the running-board of the +automobile which stood in the drive outside the front door? Courtlandt +remembered as clearly as though it had been yesterday what she had +answered the first night they met when he had asked her if she liked the +city. He could see her eyes now with their golden lights, hear her +musical voice: + +"I love it. It is so big, so beautiful, so faulty. I--I like people; I +should starve for companionship, not food, in a wilderness." + +And this was the girl who had been on the Double O ranch for over three +months and not a person outside it, except Doc Rand and some neighboring +ranchmen, had she seen before she made the trip to the B C. He had been +too busy to think of it before and--and he had intentionally kept out of +her way. He had thought that he had his course set to avoid danger, but +he had come mighty near going to pieces on an uncharted rock yesterday. +He tossed away his cigarette as Jerry's door opened. He took an +involuntary step forward, then thrust his hands into his pockets. Lord, +how impellingly beautiful she was! Her gold-color gown, all film where +it wasn't glistening paillettes, was as simple as the most expensive +modiste in New York could make it. Her lovely arms were bare. The ranch +life had deepened the coloring of her face and throat till her shoulders +looked startlingly white in contrast. Steve noted, with a surge of +primitive triumph, that the only jewels she wore were a string of softly +gleaming pearls and her wedding ring. Sir Peter had given her the pearls +when she was married. They had been worn by his wife and before that by +his mother. Steve heard Tommy give vent to a sound that was a cross +between a swallow and a gasp before he struck an attitude and +paraphrased theatrically: + + "But soft! What light through yonder doorway breaks? + It is the east and Juliet is the sun." + +Jerry laughed and blew him a kiss. Her teeth rivaled in beauty the +pearls below them. Ming Soy, more rice-papery than ever in the +resplendent embroideries she wore in the evening, followed the girl from +her room with a shimmering wrap over her arm. + +"Were you casting aspersions on the brilliancy of my costume, Mr. Tommy +Benson? This is the first invitation I have received to dine since I +left the metropolis and I acknowledge I have splurged. Do--do you like +me, Steve?" Her attitude was demure but her smile was adorably +mischievous. Courtlandt's eyes flamed, then smoldered. + +"You'll do," with an edge of sarcasm. He hated himself as he saw her +smile fade. Oh, why the dickens couldn't they have met--Tommy swept into +the breach: + +"Oh boy, hear the lady, Steve. 'Will I do?' just as though she didn't +know that + + "'Alack there lies more peril in thine eyes + Than twenty of their swords.'" + +"_Gracias, señor!_ Alas, if it weren't for you, Tommy, I should go down +to my grave unwept, unhonored and unsung. Now that you have fully +absorbed the glory of my raiment hold my cloak for me, that's a dear. +Now this maline over my hair. I don't wish to appear before the guests +from the effete East like a Meg Merriles." + +"You couldn't," encouraged Benson fervently. "You'd----" + +"Let's go!" cut in Courtlandt sharply, and led the way to the +automobile. He sent the leaping, barking dog back with a curt command +which caused Goober to regard him in drooping, tawny-eyed reproach. He +took the wheel of the roadster. He kept his eyes resolutely on the road +as he drove though he felt as though a magnet of the nth power was +drawing his eyes to the girl who snuggled down between him and Benson. +At the door of the X Y Z ranch-house Greyson met them. + +"It's mighty good of you all to come." His voice was nervous, hurried. + +"Good of us! Bruce, you're a public benefactor. You're a candidate for a +specially designed, specially gilded halo. Do you realize what a risk +you have taken introducing me to your city friends? It is so long since +I have dined in state that I am quite capable of committing some +horrible social blunder." + +Steve's anger flared. Why did she have to admit to Greyson that she had +been bored? It was still flickering as he entered the big living-room, a +room lined with books from floor to ceiling, with color only in the +crimson rug and heavy hangings. + +"You see I've come to help you bear your exile, Steve!" greeted a +laughing voice. Jerry and Tommy, who had preceded Courtlandt, turned +involuntarily. He met the girl's startled eyes. He reddened furiously +before he turned to answer the golden-haired woman who had stepped from +behind a screen. + +"Felice! Where did you come from?" His tone was dazed and strugglingly +cordial. + +"Have you lost both manners and memory, Stevie? You haven't offered to +shake hands; you have apparently forgotten that I wrote you that while +he was at the Manor Mr. Greyson discovered that I had been at school +with his sister. Paula has come out for the summer and brought me with +her. I adore the ranch. Steve, we'll have some rides that will make +those we used to have take on a pale anemic blue." She linked her arm +within his and smiled up at him beguilingly. + +"Hmp, vamp-stuff!" Courtlandt heard Tommy confide to Jerry before he +disengaged his arm from Mrs. Denbigh's clasp and reminded: + +"Have you seen Mrs. Courtlandt, Felice? Jerry, you remember Mrs. +Denbigh?" + +"Perfectly. She is one of those persons one never forgets. Mrs. Denbigh, +may I present Mr. Benson? Mr. Greyson, back up your statement, show me +that Hopi saddle-blanket which you claimed yesterday had Uncle Nick's +licked to a finish. That phrase is your bit of choice Americana, not +mine, remember." + +Steve's eyes followed Jerry as she moved away with her host. There was a +slightly scornful tilt to her lips. Greyson looked as though he had been +caught stealing sheep, he decided. Was there a sinister undercurrent at +the X Y Z as well as a Double O? If there were he'd get to the bottom of +that, too. Regardless of Benson's proximity he burst out: + +"Why did you intimate that I had been corresponding with you, Felice?" + +The woman's super decollété frock was no greener than her eyes, her +elaborately coiffured yellow hair glittered; it hadn't the satiny sheen +of Jerry's; her hands were frosty with diamonds. Even her laugh had a +metallic ring as she answered: + +"What a literal person you are, Stevie. Have you been bitten with the +nothing-but-the-truth mania? Can't I interest you in a saddle-blanket? +It makes an excellent smoke-screen for a tête-à-tête." Her laugh tinkled +maliciously as she nodded toward the corner where her host stood with +Jerry Courtlandt. Steve deliberately turned his back and inquired +irrelevantly: + +"How was little ol' New York when you left, Felice?" + +It wasn't to be wondered at that Jerry liked people, people so evidently +adored her, Courtlandt thought as coffee was being served in the +living-room after dinner. Paula Vance, who though no older than Felice +Denbigh, already showed symptoms of middle-age curves, was officiating +behind the massive silver tray with its rare, antique appointments. Her +husband, with those three unmistakable L's, liquor, lobster and leisure +writ large on his portly person from his terraced chin to his shining +patent leathers, Greyson and Benson were listening to Jerry as, with +eyes like stars, cheeks flushed, she sat at the piano. She played a low, +rippling accompaniment as, in answer to a question from her host, she +gave an account of her visit to Bear Creek ranch. Felice Denbigh also +had her eyes on the group. She divided her attention between it and her +coffee. Her light lashes swept her cheeks as she tapped her cigarette +against her thumb-nail and drawled: + +"Better give young Benson his time, Steve. Isn't that ranch parlance for +discharge? He's in love with Mrs. Courtlandt." The man beside her +reddened angrily. + +"Don't bring your tainted ideas out into this clean, glorious country, +Felice. Benson is----" he broke off to watch Greyson's Jap, a little man +with a face like the mask of tragedy who was speaking to Jerry. + +"Are you sure that he said Mrs. Courtlandt?" Steve heard her ask in +surprise. Then as the man reiterated his message she excused herself to +the men about her and left the room. Tommy looked after her anxiously +before his eyes flashed to Steve. The latter gave an imperceptible nod +and with a murmured excuse to Felice followed Jerry. As he stepped to +the porch he saw the golden gleam of the girl's gown at the farther end. +She was talking earnestly with a man, a man who was holding a saddled +horse. The moon shone down upon the animal's wet sides; he had evidently +been ridden hard. What did it mean? Had Glamorgan, by any chance, sent +for his daughter? As he strode toward them he heard the girl say +breathlessly: + +"No! No! Don't wait! Ride as fast as you can. I'll get there some way." + +"Jerry!" in his anxiety Steve sent his voice ahead of him. At the sound +the man leaped to the horse's back and galloped away into the dusk of +the road. The girl strained her eyes after him before she turned. + +"There is something queer about that man, Steve; he is a man of +mystery," she confided as though Courtlandt's materialization out of the +dark was quite what she expected. + +"What did he want?" + +"He wanted me. Don't look so incredulous. I may be an acquired taste +like olives but--some people like me." She abandoned her teasing tone +and hurried on, "That man is the range-rider at Bear Creek ranch. Mrs. +Carey has been taken suddenly ill, there,--there is a baby coming, you +know, Steve. He wanted me to go to her. Her husband is away. They +haven't had a telephone put in and it may take hours to get the doctor +and nurse from town, he may not be able to get them at all and so--and +so he asked me to go and stay with her until he could get help." + +"But you can't go, girl, at this time of night." + +"Oh, yes, I can, Steve. I'm going. Please ask Tommy to drive me. We'll +make better time going in the machine even by the roundabout wagon road. +If I rode I'd have to go home first and change my clothes. He can come +back for you. Hurry!" + +"Back for me! Do you think you go off this ranch to-night with anyone +but me? It's rank folly for you to go----" + +She caught the lapel of his coat and looked up at him with dewy eyes. + +"Suppose,--suppose that it were I, Steve----" + +Even in the dim light he could see the soft color steal to her hair. He +turned away with a sharp: + +"Get your wrap while I go for the car, and give Benson his orders. He'll +have to keep a date for me." + +The star-spangled night was clear and still as Courtlandt slowed down in +front of the Bear Creek ranch-house. The girl beside him shivered as she +looked at the lighted windows. He laid one hand on hers. + +"Steady, little girl, steady. You won't be able to help if you lose your +nerve." + +"I know, Steve, I'll be all right as soon as I get busy. I have never +seen----" She sprang from the car and ran up the path, her golden gown +gleaming in the dim light. As she opened the door Courtlandt heard a +sound which sent him from the car. He couldn't sit still. Lips set he +paced back and forth, back and forth while a voice inside his head, +which didn't seem his voice at all, kept repeating, "Suppose--just +suppose it were I, Steve?" + +Other thoughts crowded in upon him as he paced like a sentinel, a +sentinel in dinner clothes, before the little house. The dawn crept +slowly up in the east spraying the dark sky overhead with gorgeousness. +It transformed the world into the fairyland of the pantomimes of his +boyhood, a world full of magic passwords and talismans. He almost +expected to see a shimmering, masked Harlequin tap on the cabin door +with his supple wand and a dainty Columbine pirouette out in response. + +Whatever it might be outside, there was no illusion behind that closed +door. It was raw reality. What wonders women were, some of them, Steve +amended. He thought of the girls with whom he had dined and danced in +the last two years. Many of them sensation-seeking privateers. Was it +after-war reaction which made them so recklessly, flagrantly determined +in their attempts to lure? They had succeeded only in repelling him but +they had plenty of victims. How they crackled the glaze of their +reputations. How they married and unmarried, those people whom he knew, +and with what tragic consequences to their children. Felice was a +product of the atmosphere in which she lived. He realized now that she +would have no scruples in coming between him and the girl he had married +if she could. A fragment from Kant which had been the text for a college +theme teased at the tip Of his tongue. He had it! "No one of us can do +that, which if done by all, will destroy society." If this divorce +business kept up it would destroy society. Did luxurious social life +breed inconstancy of purpose, contempt of covenants? + +As though in answer to his question came a vision of Jerry as she had +knelt beside Old Nick's bed. He could see her face, the hint of tears +under the steadiness of her gaze, hear her voice as she repeated +reverently the marriage service. + +She would keep her marriage vow at any cost to herself, Courtlandt +thought, no matter how she might care for someone else. She was the sort +of woman who would stand the wear and tear of daily companionship, +making allowance for a man's moods but never knuckling to them. She'd +bring him up with a round turn, but she'd laugh while she did it. He +couldn't imagine her irritable or fretty or snappy. She had the saving +grace of humor. If women could only learn the persuasive value of a +laugh as against tears or sulks how many marriages would be saved from +the scrap-heap. After all, any poor dumb-bell could get married; it was +staying married which proved one's metal. + +The color overhead spread with increasing beauty. The last friendly star +high up above a mountain twinkled out. Somewhere toward the barns a +shrill-voiced, enterprising cock "hailed the smiling morn." A curl of +smoke rose lazily from the cabin chimney. The sun shot up through a +fleece of clouds; it painted the fields and sloping hillside with +radiance. A horse whinnied in the corral, a light breeze sprang up and +brought with it the odor of barns, the strong scent of wool. From the +road came the labored breathing of a flivver. + +"Thank God, someone's coming!" Courtlandt thought. He looked toward the +cabin, transformed in the morning light into a habitation of gold. As he +looked the lights in the windows went out. What was Jerry doing? Could +he have helped? A flivver rattled up and stopped. In the exuberance of +his relief Steve opened the door of the car before either of the +occupants had a chance. "Mother" Egan, a portly woman whose clothing +suggested a starch and soap advertisement, it was so immaculate and +standoutish, nodded as she stepped heavily out. Her face beamed with +kindliness and sympathetic understanding as she lumbered up to the door. +Doc Rand regarded Courtlandt with an incredulous grin: + +"For the love of Mike, Steve, what you doing here? This isn't your +party----" with a hardened chuckle. + +"Cut out the comedy, Doc. I brought Mrs. Courtlandt over to stay until +you came. For God's sake get in there and stop those sounds. Send Jerry +out." + +"What you say goes, Steve. Out she comes. Run the flivver round to the +barn, will you? I'm likely to stay here most of the day." + +Worn black bag in hand he disappeared inside the house. As Steve started +the car a horseman galloped into sight on the road. He stopped his horse +with a suddenness that threw the animal back on his haunches, then, +after an instant's hesitation he went on toward the huddle of buildings. +Steve looked after him curiously. Was he Jerry's Man of Mystery? He +deliberately followed the horseman. When he dismounted Steve shut off +his engine and jumped to the ground. The rider turned. Steve stared. + +"Phil Denbigh!" he exclaimed incredulously. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +The two men faced each other silently. The morning light accentuated the +lines on Denbigh's thin, ascetic face, revealed the brooding sorrow in +his eyes. After his involuntary halt of surprise Courtlandt sprang +forward with outstretched hand. + +"Phil, old scout, it's good to see you! But--but what the dickens are +you doing here? I know Jim Carey but you're--not----" + +"The same. I'm Bill Small, range-rider of the Bear Creek outfit, which +extensive outfit consists at present of the owner and yours truly. It +has taken some dexterity to keep out of your way, Steve. Your Uncle Nick +got me the job. Curious that I should have turned to him in my despair, +but--but he was the first person I thought of. I had heard Mother rail +about his caustic tongue. I concluded if she thought that, he must have +a keen sense of justice and fair-dealing. Mrs. Carey thinks that I +dropped from the air or any old place. Jim went away three days ago and +left me in charge. We didn't think that this--this--was coming so soon. +My first thought when Mrs. Carey called me last evening was to get hold +of the nearest woman and--and Mrs. Courtlandt seemed to be it. I went +to your ranch, first and they sent me on to the X Y Z." + +"I can't make you seem real yet, Phil. I'm dazed with the succession of +surprises. Saturday, Beechy, my late sergeant walked in and----" + +"Beechy!" + +"Say, 'The Devil!' and be done with it, that's what your tone implied. +What do you know about Carl Beechy?" + +"I've run across him in Slippy Bend. A regular fella with the ladies, +isn't he?" + +"So that's it! I'll have to admit that Carl is an easy mark with the +fair sex, but he's all there when it comes to fighting. I wanted to keep +him at the Double O, but he insisted that he must keep his contract with +the railroad." + +"Oh, he did. You're fond of Beechy, Steve?" + +"He saved my life, Phil. I was as sure of the man's loyalty as I was +that the sun would rise in the morning." + +"Have patience, Steve, you'll get him back. Sadder and wiser, perhaps a +bit damaged, but you'll get him back." + +"Damaged! What do you mean?" + +"Nothing specific. I'm judging from what I've seen the railroads do. I +hear Ranlett has left you. Take it from me, you're in luck." + +"I'll say you're right. I haven't had a chance to talk it over with +Greyson yet; he came back from the East only a few days ago. Uncle Nick +relied on his judgment. Good Lord!"--as remembrance of the evening +before flashed clear in his mind, "do you know who came with him? +Your--your wife." + +Denbigh leisurely lighted a cigarette and as leisurely drew a long whiff +of it. + +"My wife! I haven't a wife. Felice will have her divorce in a few +months. Desertion. Mamma Peyton's master-mind directed the campaign. +Trust an old-timer like her to know the ropes. Felice didn't love me +when she married me; she merely contracted a virulent attack of the +war-marriage epidemic. I found that out when you came home. I'm through +with women, Steve, that is until I've proved myself a man whose sense of +right and justice can't be twisted by them. If I hadn't been weak Mother +couldn't have--oh, why go into it? It wasn't her fault; life had been +too easy for her; she couldn't bear to be hurt. Well, she has lost me as +effectually as though I had been shot to pieces in the Argonne where so +many of my friends lie. The effects of gas and shot and shell aren't in +it with the intolerable sense of shame which a man, who didn't do his +best to get into the war, will carry through the years. God knows, I'm +paying for my weakness. Don't mind this outburst, Steve. Forget it! +You're the first person I've seen from home. It--it just surged out." + +He leaned his head upon his horse's neck. The animal which had been +pawing impatiently settled into bronze immobility at his touch. Only his +sensitive nostrils quivered. Courtlandt laid a sympathetic hand on +Denbigh's shoulder. His voice was unsteady as he protested: + +"You're torturing yourself unnecessarily, Phil. The world has almost +forgotten----" + +"I haven't, Steve, but we'll let it go at that. Don't let Felice know +that I am here. When she gets her divorce----" + +"But, Phil, can't you and she patch things up? Divorce is a hard thing +for a woman to live down." + +"Not in our set. Good Lord, man, Felice thinks no more of it than she +would of discarding an unbecoming gown. It's in her blood. It's in mine. +Her mother had changed husbands once before Felice was born. Mine +changed hers when he was young and unsuccessful. She had the money. When +the Fates want to hand it to a man good and plenty they marry him to a +girl who has slathers more money than he has." Steve's face whitened. +"Was that a door closing? Go quick, Steve. If it is Mrs. Courtlandt I +don't want her to see me. Don't tell her who I am." He seized his horse +by the bridle and vanished into the barn. + +Steve met Jerry beside his car. His jaw set in the manner dreaded by his +father as he looked at the girl's face. It was white with violet shadows +under the wide, strained eyes. Her exquisite frock was torn where she +had caught it on a hook. A long angry burn was visible on the wrist +which the sleeve of her wrap didn't cover. Her lips quivered +traitorously as she saw Steve's eyes on it. She hastily concealed it +behind her back with a valiant attempt at a laugh. + +"It's nothing. I hoped that it would escape your ruthless managerial +eye. I tried to heat water and I'm not used to a kitchen range. In fact, +I don't know what I can do that's vitally useful. When--when I go back +to civilization I shall take a course in nursing, then I won't be so +absolutely useless at a time like this." Her voice was pitched in a key +of nervous excitement, and she shivered as she spoke. + +"Come here!" Courtlandt's face was as white as the girl's as he picked +her up in his arms and put her into the car. He drew her wrap closer +about her shoulders and tucked a light robe about her knees. She sat +there tense, unresponsive, but as he started the car she suddenly +relaxed with a stifled sob and covered her face with her hands. Steve +stopped the car. With quiet determination he put his arm about her. + +"Cry it out, child," he encouraged tenderly. When the storm broke he +wondered if he had been wise in the recommendation. He was frightened at +the tempest of sobs which shook the slender body. He tightened his arm. +Then after a few moments, "Was it as bad as that, girl?" + +She sat up with a start and drew as far away from him as the limited +space would permit. He laid his arm across the back of the seat. She +pushed the hair from her forehead and looked up at him through drenched +eyes. + +"Bad!" she controlled a shudder. "Bad only because I was so powerless to +help. An angel from heaven wouldn't have looked as good to me as Doc +Rand." There was an hysterical note of laughter in her voice as she +continued, "He must have thought I had gone suddenly mad for when he +opened the door I flew at him and kissed him." She made furtive dabs at +her eyes. "Don't think that I'm constitutionally a cry-baby," she +laughed up at Courtlandt shamefacedly. He turned away from her quickly, +removed his arm from the back of the seat and started the car. + +"Now that you've got your grip again we'll go on. I'm famished," he +announced prosaically. + +"Now that I think of it, so am I," she agreed with gay camaraderie, but +her breath came in a little sob as a child's might after crying, +"and--and so are they! Look, Steve! Over on that hillside--look!" + +She gripped his arm with one hand as she pointed with the other. On the +top of a low hill, outlined like shadow pictures against the morning +sky, so near that their hanging tongues were plainly visible, were three +dark, sinister shapes. + +"Coyotes?" the girl whispered as though even at that distance they might +hear. + +"Timber wolves. See those sheep grazing in the coulée below? They are +after them." + +"Oh, Steve, can't we do something?" + +For answer Courtlandt reached into the pocket of the car and drew his +automatic. The shots rang through the morning quiet, the echoes +ricochetted back from the hills. The sheep kicked up their heels and +scampered off. The wolves stood like creatures of stone for an instant, +then slowly, quite without panic, turned and disappeared over the brow +of the hill. Jerry shivered. + +"Wolves! I thought you were rid of them in this country." + +"We are almost. Occasionally the boys bring in reports of the trail of a +wolf or a mountain lion. We have a pest of coyotes though, this year. If +you want to insult a ranchman or cowboy to fighting mad, call him a +coyote; it means the most despicable creature in the animal world. +They're cowards. If that bunch of sheep turned and faced a coyote they +would terrify him." + +"Ranch life is just one problem after another, isn't it?" + +"No more than any life which is packed with interest." + +"My mistake! Didn't the little boy want his little ranch found fault +with? Then he shan't be teased." + +As he turned and looked at her she caught her breath, colored richly and +apologized. "Don't mind me, Steve. The sudden release from +responsibility and the elixir of the morning air have gone to my head. +I'll be good, really I will. Did you see the Man of Mystery? I--I +somehow have a feeling that he may know something of the missing +calves." + +"You're wrong. He's all right, he's doing a man's job--_he_ isn't +troubling me but--but I wish I knew what Beechy had up his sleeve. What +had he said to you before I came in that day in the office?" with quick +suspicion. His tone sent the color flying to the girl's hair. + +"Why--why--nothing--but----" + +"Don't perjure yourself," dryly. "Much as I think of Carl I'm not blind +to his ways with women. He couldn't have been unbearably raw or you +wouldn't have shaken hands with him, would you? I--didn't like his eyes +when he said he had work on the railroad." + +"Steve, you are developing nerves; your imagination is running wild. One +would think that we were back in the days of armed bandits, when masked +men held up trains at the point of a gun. That isn't done now, you +know," with gay patronage. + +"Perhaps--look up on the hill! The boys are bringing down the horses." + +The girl's eyes followed his pointing finger. Nose to tail, close herded +by riders, the animals trailed toward the corral after their night of +feeding in the hillside pastures. They tossed their manes, they made +sportive attempts to escape their keepers. + +"How well our boys ride." Steve's pulses responded to that possessive +"our." + +"They ought to. They are as near old-timers as can be found now. The +Double O was Uncle Nick's master-passion. He took up the land when it +was the ranchman's paradise, in the years before fence-posts and barbed +wire, when cowboys packed guns and drank and gambled away their pay. He +adapted himself with amazing success to changing conditions though, and +hung on to all the real boys whom he could tempt with pay and the pride +of raising thoroughbreds." + +As Courtlandt stopped the car in front of the ranch-house, the door was +flung open and a girl ran down the steps. Jerry stared incredulously. +"Peggy! Peggy!" she was out of the car in a flash and had her sister in +her arms. Steve heard one more muffled "Peggy!" before the two entered +the house. The surprise following so close upon her night's vigil might +be too much for Jerry, he feared. When Peg had written him and begged +him to keep her coming a surprise he had weakly consented. He had +intended to meet her train but had had to delegate Tommy to take his +place. + +Jerry had quite recovered her poise when she appeared for breakfast in +the court. If there was a trace of _vibrato_ in her voice only +Courtlandt noticed it. She and Peg had stopped talking long enough to +get two hours' sleep. Overhead the sky spread like a Della Robbia glaze, +the atmosphere was so clear that the snow-tipped mountains seemed +reachable. A tractor in a distant field sounded but a few feet away. The +air was sweet with the fragrance of roses, the fountain tinkled +musically. Benito, yellow eyes blinking, his gay plumage ruffled till he +looked like an animated feather-duster, sidled round and round the rim +of the basin. + +Peggy regarded her sister with elfish, hazel eyes as she took her seat +at the table. + +"Ye gods, Jerry, but I'm glad to see you clothed and in your right mind. +That green skirt and sweater is a little bit of all right and I'm crazy +about your frills; they make me think of the soap-suds you see in the +demonstration electric washers, they're so--so fleecy. When you drove up +in that vampish gold gown this morning I thought it must be the custom +of the country to breakfast in evening clothes and I could have wept. +I'd been disillusioned enough. I thought that every honest-to-goodness +he-man on a ranch wore chaps and tore about with his six-shooter +'spittin' death and damnation,' but the man who brought out my trunks +evidently has a passion for overalls, and Mr. Benson met me at the train +looking like a model of the Well-Dressed Man." + +Her sister laughed. + +"You've been reading Zane Gray et als. Please understand that we are +ultra civilized on this ranch after six o'clock." + +"Then you'll eat up my news. That smitten salesman of yours at Tiffany's +told me before I left New York that he was on the trail of the +Alexandrite ring you'd been wanting. It belonged to one of the late +royalties. He says that it is a wonder, beautifully set and only two +thousand dollars! You'd better write him about it. Of course he can't +hold it indefinitely." + +"Two thousand dollars!" Jerry regretted the shocked exclamation as soon +as it left her lips. She glanced furtively at Steve. His eyes, clear and +clean and shining from his out-of-door life, disconcertingly direct, met +hers. She looked away hastily. "I'm--I'm not buying jewels now, Peg." + +"You're not! Growing miserly in your old age, Geraldine?" with +patronizing surprise. "You've been talking of that Alexandrite for----" + +"Will you ride the range with your ancient brother-in-law this morning, +Peg-o'-my-heart?" broke in Courtlandt. "We'll have lunch at Upper Farm." + +"I'll say I'd love it. Will you come, Jerry?" + +"No, I have work to do. Behold your erstwhile humble sister the private +secretary of the owner of Double O ranch," with laughing empressement. + +"Don't work. Sleep, or ride with Peg," cut in Steve sharply. "Remember +you were out all night." + +"O King Live Forever!" mocked Geraldine gayly. "Just as though I hadn't +danced all night many a time and ridden in the park all morning. I +shall----" + +"Pete Glellish tlell you dat Ranlett make bad pidgin in Lower Flield," +interrupted Ming Soy's soft voice at Courtlandt's elbow. "He say, +'Hully--hully--hully!'" + +Steve sprang from his chair and caromed into Tommy Benson who had just +entered the court and stood beaming upon Peggy Glamorgan. + +"What, down already, Miss Peg? Methinks + + "'This morning, like the spirit of a youth + That means to be of note, begins betimes.' + +Why the glassy-eye and furrowed-brow effect, Steve? I hope that you've +left me a taste of the honey, Miss Glamorgan?" he reproached as he took +his place at the table beside the girl. + +"As soon as you've had a bite, Tommy, join me at Lower Field. Bring Peg +along. Jerry," Steve Courtlandt's voice was peremptory, "remember, no +work in the office and if you don't go with Peg and Tommy stay in sight +of the ranch-house if you ride. Don't expect me until you see me. I may +not be at home to-night." + +He didn't wait for her answer. In his own room he picked up a Colt 45, +spun the cylinder, slipped a box of cartridges into his pocket and +hurried to the side door. Gerrish, mounted on the big sorrel, held Blue +Devil by the bridle. Both horses were prancing nervously, for the +parrot, who had climbed to the gutter under the roof, was clucking and +calling: + +"Gid-dap! Go-long!" + +"That bird ought to be shot," Steve growled as with some difficulty he +mounted. "What's to pay now, Pete, Ranlett?" + +"You've got your rope on the right pair of horns this time, Chief. The +fences of Lower Field have been cut." + +"Toward the railroad?" + +"By cripes, no. Toward the mountains. If 't been the railroad side we +might have stood a chance of corralling the Shorthorns, but if they once +get into the mountains--Lord-ee, I believe yer uncle'll rise out of his +grave an' go after 'em. Them critters was the pride of his life. Ranlett +was a low-down dawg to turn a trick like this. Say, do you know anything +about thet range-rider at Bear Creek?" + +"Why--why--I've spoken to him. You don't suspect him of being in this +deal, do you?" + +"I ain't suspectin' nothin', but after I'd saw him twice talkin' to +Ranlett I sort of got his number." + +"You've got it wrong, then, Pete. I happen to know that the man is white +clear through." + +"Well, I ain't shootin' off my mouth careless when I say that the +range-rider's got somethin' up his sleeve. It's my best bet there's +going to be fifty-seven varieties of hell blowin' up round this ranch +before we get through. If you ask me, I'll say that the crime-wave +that's been lappin' the coast has swashed out here in a flood." + +"But, Pete, it's impossible for rustlers to get away with their old +stuff now." + +"You're shoutin', Chief, it sure is, but--they'll find some new ways. I +got it doped out your way too, but if it ain't rustlin', what fool thing +is that coyote Ranlett up to?" + +"Giving us a run for our cattle, I guess. Spite. How many boys can we +spare to round up the Shorthorns?" + +"I've sent fer the bunch. There's somethin' else phoney that I haven't +told yer. It's been open and shut in my mind whether I'd better." + +"Shoot, old-timer!" commanded Courtlandt curtly. + +"Well, since you fed Ranlett his time he's been moseyin' round Slippy +Bend. The other day when I rode over there to see Baldy Jennings, 'bout +shippin' them steer, I just naturally dropped into the Lazy Wolf. Our +late manager was settin' at a table with two girls and a man. It wasn't +my butt-in and I wouldn't have specially noticed the stranger if he +hadn't been makin' goo-goo eyes at one of the females out of all +proportion to her good looks. She hed----" + +"Let's pass up what she looked like. Who was the man?" + +"I didn't know then, but Saturday you brought the ol' son-of-a-gun of a +lady-killer to the bunk-house yourself. Savvy?" + +"You don't mean Beechy?" + +"Sorry, Chief, but he's the same. An' unless I'm locoed Ranlett's got +the feller's hide nailed to his stable door; he's got him an' he's got +him tight." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Bubbles the roan, own brother to Patches, and Peggy Glamorgan on his +back were radiant youth incarnate. The horse arched his graceful head as +though proudly conscious of the loveliness of his burden; the corded +muscles of shoulder, flank and leg flexed sensitively under his satin +skin with every move of his pliant body. The girl's sombrero had the +true ranchero tilt. Her khaki riding costume was as perfect a thing as +the cinema-fed imagination of a fashionable habit-maker could conceive; +it was only by exercising superhuman restraint that he had refrained +from adding buckskin fringe and a six-shooter. Tommy Benson regarded her +as though hypnotized. He caught a quizzical expression in Jerry's eyes +as she stood on the porch, and colored hotly. He swallowed hard and +sprang to the saddle. With obvious effort to regain his poise, he +touched his horse with his heels and with a theatrical sweep of his +right arm declaimed: + +"Let's go! 'Once more into the breach dear friends, once more.'" + +Peggy lingered. + +"You are sure that you won't come with us, Jerry?" Her sister smilingly +shook her head. + +"No, I must finish some work. Come back, Goober!" to the dog who had +been jumping up to lick the noses of the horses, and who with short +joyous barks was preparing to follow them. He threw her a glance replete +with injured dignity and flopped down on the porch with head on his +outstretched paws. Peggy threw a hasty "I'm sorry!" over her shoulder +and urged Bubbles to a gallop. Tommy bore down upon her as she reached +the ranch road. He seized the bridle of her horse and pulled him down. + +"Where's the fire?" he demanded. "What's the big idea in burning up the +road? I want to make this ride last." + +"I thought you wanted to get to Lower Field to help Steve," +reproachfully. + +"Sure thing, but if I break my neck getting there it won't prove much, +will it? I wonder why your sister didn't come." + +The horses stepped daintily side by side, their glossy coats shining in +the sunlight. Peggy's brows met in a suspicion of a frown. + +"Tommy--you don't mind if I call you Tommy, do you?" with just the right +suggestion of hesitation and a glance from under curling lashes which +fanned a spark in the man's eyes to fire. + +"I'll say that I don't," fervently. "Formality is silly in a great, +God's-own-country like this. What's on your mind?" + +"Jerry. I was wondering. There is something queer about Steve and Jerry, +Tommy. They don't seem a bit like married lovers; have you noticed it?" + +Benson bent far forward to examine the bit in his horse's mouth. When he +settled back in the saddle his face was flushed. + +"'I never knew so young a lady with so old a head,'" he quoted gayly. +"What does a child like you, just out of the nursery, know about +lovers?" he teased. + +She regarded him with lofty condescension. + +"I shall be nineteen my next birthday and I'll have you understand that +boys have been plentiful in my career, Mr. Benson. Of course if you +don't care to talk with me----" + +"I do--I do, Peg-o'-my-heart!" Courtlandt's name for her slipped +unconsciously from Tommy's lips. He looked at her apologetically but the +girl was too engrossed in her troubled thoughts to notice what he called +her. Reassured he answered her question. "I think that Steve and Jerry +are bully pals." + +"Pals! Ye gods, and that's all. Honest now, Tommy, have you ever seen +Steve catch Jerry's hand as though he just couldn't help it?" Benson +met her triumphant glance with a sternly accusing eye. + +"Oh, the precocity and sophistication of twentieth century youth! Look +here, young woman, what have you been reading?" + +"Reading! Tommy, you're overdoing it. You're too innocent to be true," +with a little rush of laughter. "Now I ask you, would you want a wife +who was as distantly friendly to you as Jerry is to Steve?" + +"I should not," with convincing emphasis. "But why should your sister +have married Courtlandt if she didn't love him? I can't conceive of his +not being mad about her." + +"Dad was the why. I didn't know until I asked him if I might come here. +I went to San Francisco with my roommate when school closed, but I +intended to come to Jerry as quickly as I politely could. When he gave +me permission to come Dad told me that he expected me to marry family as +Jerry had--that he had brought her up with the idea and that she had not +disappointed him. That's that!" + +"In the vernacular of the backwoods, 'She seen her duty an' she done +it,'" interpolated Benson. "Might--might an humble admirer ask if you +are planning to please your father or--or yourself, when you marry?" He +succeeded in keeping eyes and tone gayly impersonal. + +"I don't intend to marry at all, that is, not for years and years and +years." + +"You'll be quite a nice old lady by that time, won't you?" + +"You're not nearly as good-looking when you scowl, Tommy. As I was +saying, when so rudely interrupted, when I do marry it will be to please +myself. I told Dad a thing or two," and Tommy, observing the tiny flames +which memory had set in her hazel eyes, allowed that she had. + +"I'm puzzled about Jerry's money," Peggy went on thoughtfully. "Dad +gives us an allowance fit for princesses of blood royal; that's an +out-of-date simile now, isn't it? When I asked her this morning for five +dollars with which to tip the man who brought up my trunk, first she was +shocked at the idea of tipping one of the outfit, and then she grew as +red as fire and stammered that she had no small bills. Ye gods, what do +you know about that?" with slangy amazement. + +"Sweet cookie, that's nothing. Many a time I haven't been able to pry a +dollar bill loose." + +"That is different. You're--you're working and it takes time to make a +living," with sweet earnestness. Tommy shot a quick look at her. Was she +laughing at him? No, she was taking his lack of funds seriously. "About +that Alexandrite ring. Once Jerry would have ordered it by wire before +you could say 'Jack Robinson'--but all she said was, 'I--I'm not buying +jewels now, Peg.' Has she turned miser or has Dad----" her eyes flew to +Benson's in startled questioning. "Dad was furious because Jerry and +Steve left New York. Could he have stopped her allowance? But--but if he +did--surely Steve would give----" she stopped in troubled uncertainty. + +"Why don't you ask your sister?" suggested Benson gravely. + +"I will. I can't believe that Dad would--well he'd better never try to +drive me. And that's that," with a defiant tilt of her chin. + +"Would you stick to--to a man, a poor man, you loved even if you knew +that your father would cut you off with the proverbial shilling?" Her +hazel eyes met his turbulent blue ones frankly. + +"Indeed I would, Mr. Tommy Benson. I shouldn't be afraid to marry a poor +man, that is, a poor man with a future. I should want to be sure that he +was that kind. I love to cook and sew and I should adore taking care of +a ducky little house and brushing my husband's coat collar when he +started off for work in the morning and going to market. There is only +one thing I should hate to economize about----" her expression and tone +were introspective. Benson was conscious that his heart was in his eyes +but he didn't care. She was adorable with that thoughtful pucker of her +vivid lips. He had to steady his voice before he asked lightly: + +"And what may that one thing be, Peg-o'-my-heart?" + +"Children," she answered promptly and with utter absence of +self-consciousness. "I want eight and--and I suppose that's rather +extravagant for a poor man to start with, don't you, Tommy?" + +Benson held his emotions in a grip of steel. At that moment the +boy-he-had-been waved good-bye and slipped away forever. The man's eyes +were gravely tender as he answered the girl's question with judicial +deliberation. + +"Perhaps--not. That is, not for a poor man with a future." He tightened +on the bridle. "Steve will think we're quitters. Let's go!" + +The white road stretched ahead of them. Their horses' feet raised a haze +of dust. On either side billowed fields of tall, untrodden grass and +beyond the fields lumped the foot-hills. In a pasture a roan mare lay +with her head up over her shoulder asleep, while beside her, flat on its +side in the sun, dozed a young colt. Insects droned and buzzed +unceasingly. The air sparkled with that brand of ozone to be found only +among the foot-hills. + +Benson and Peggy came upon Courtlandt in Lower Field. He nodded to them +absent-mindedly. He was the centre of a group of mounted men, all eager, +all armed. Most of them rolled and smoked cigarettes incessantly as they +sat their horses. A few of them wore chaps with vests over their colored +shirts, some were in khaki riding clothes, all wore bandanas of violent +pattern in place of collars, broad-brimmed Stetsons and laced riding +boots. They were a clean-cut, self-respecting looking lot, as lean, +lithe and brown as a life spent in the saddle could make them. Pete +Gerrish on his massive sorrel loomed above them all. + +"Understand me, there is to be no shooting," Steve was reiterating as +Peg and Benson rode up. "Gerrish, I'll fire the man who shoots unless in +self-defense. Do you get me, boys?" + +"Sure, we get you," drawled Marcelle O'Neil, so nicknamed because of the +unrepressible kink in his straw-colored hair. "No objection, be ther', +to ropin' one of Ranlett's gang an' reinin' him up short if he starts to +lope?" he wheedled. + +"No. Bring every one of them back if you can. Without injury, though. +We'll let the law mete out punishment." + +"Sure, it's none of my butt-in how you handle the durn polecat, but if I +had my way I'd swing Ranlett up to a cottonwood if I got my mazuma fer +doin' it. Them were the finest Shorthorns in the world and if +Nick-the-time-feeder was back----" + +Nicholas Fairfax had been notoriously prompt to discharge a man who +slacked on the job, but O'Neil had not intended to let the bunk-house +name for the late owner of the Double O slip out. He looked furtively at +Courtlandt but he, consciously or unconsciously, ignored the lapse. + +"We'll find them, O'Neil. We must. Get a move on, boys. Ride in pairs +and ride like----" + +Their whoop of enthusiasm drowned his last words. Steve remained +motionless until the last one had taken the fence at a jump. His face +was white, his eyes strained and tired. He rode toward Peg and Benson +who had with difficulty restrained their horses from following the +riders. + +"That was the nearest approach to the wild-west cowboy of the eighties +that you will ever see, Peg-o'-my-heart. Did you notice that Marks and +Schoeffleur were missing, Tommy? Why didn't Jerry come with you, Peg?" + +"She said that she had work to do, that she would ride after luncheon." + +"She understood that she was not to go out of sight of the ranch-house?" + +The girl's salaam was as profound as the neck of her horse would +permit. + +"Your slave heard and obeys, oh Abdul the Great." + +A laugh erased the tired lines about Courtlandt's mouth. + +"Do I seem such a tyrannous old Turk to you? Well, it is only because I +am afraid that Jerry----" He left his sentence unfinished and turned to +Benson. "Take a message to Upper Farm for me. Tell--the Devil!" + +"Your mistake, Steve; it's only Mrs. Denbigh," Peggy corrected +mischievously as she followed Courtlandt's eyes to where Felice Denbigh +and Greyson were entering the field. The three rode to meet the +newcomers. + +"Good morning. I didn't know that you left your downy before noon, +Felice." + +The woman put her horse through a few paces that were as coquettish as +her eyes and voice. + +"On with the vamps!" muttered Tommy in a tone intended only for Peg's +ear. With difficulty she choked back a delighted giggle as Felice +answered in a spoiled-child voice: + +"Steve, you're getting to be a barbarian out here. Have you forgotten +that last night you invited me to ride with you this morning?" + +"Last night--I what?" demanded Courtlandt, a slow color darkening his +face. + +"I waited for you at the X Y Z and when you didn't come fairly browbeat +my host into escorting me to Double O ranch. I thought I should find you +there. No such luck. We saw only Mrs. Courtlandt and she thought that +you would be too busy----" + +"I am too busy," curtly. "Tommy, take Mrs. Denbigh with you and Peg to +Upper Farm. You'll find the most up-to-date dairy in the country there, +Felice. Its equipment cost----" + +"Don't talk like a mail-order catalogue, Steve," the woman interrupted +petulantly. "If you can't show me the Upper Farm I will wait until you +can, I'm a patient waiter. I always get what I want," with narrowed eyes +and an iced smile which sent a queer shiver down Benson's spine. He +looked at Greyson to see how he was bearing his equivocal position. The +man's fine, thoroughbred face was red and set about the lips. Benson +couldn't understand his allowing himself to be placed in such an awkward +situation. Why the dickens had he invited the Denbigh woman to the X Y +Z? He must have been at the Manor long enough during Old Nick's illness +to have found her out. He brought his thoughts back to the present in +time to hear Felice say: + +"Shall we go on to Slippy Bend, Mr. Greyson? Your sister gave us some +commissions to execute there. So long, Stevie! You'll come over for a +game of auction to-night, of course. You and I against mine host and +Paula." She didn't wait for his answer. Without a glance in the +direction of Peg and Benson she wheeled her horse and rode away. Greyson +waved his hat to Peg, called something to her companions and cantered +after his guest. For one long, silent moment Courtlandt followed the two +with his eyes, then he resumed his directions to Benson where he had +dropped them. + +"Tell Mrs. Simms to have Simms report to me to-morrow noon at the ranch. +Show Peg over Upper Farm. She won't insist upon being personally +conducted by me, I'll wager. Get your lunch there. Mrs. Simms' jelly +cookies will make you purr with repletion, Peggy. I told Ming Soy that +we wouldn't be back till late afternoon. Take your time. Don't let Peg +ride too hard. Jerry won't be anxious. She knows what distances are +here." + +"But, Steve, don't you need me? I can take Miss Glamorgan back and join +you." + +"No, I'm riding alone. I have a few fairly fresh trails to follow up. Be +a good child, Peg-o'-my-heart, and do exactly what the best range-rider +on the Double O tells you to do." He laughed at her indignant eyes, +touched Blue Devil with his heel and loped off. Peggy looked after him +and then at Benson. + +"I wonder--I don't like that Denbigh woman. Did you see her eyes when +Steve turned her down? Careful Cosmetics is the name for her. She must +think it's the open season for vamps round here." She looked at Tommy +with laughter and a glint of mischief in her hazel eyes. "Now I wonder +who Steve could have meant by the best range-rider of the Double O?" she +mused in a low voice as though communing with herself. + +Benson swept off his Stetson with swash-buckling impressiveness. + +"I don't like to talk about myself--but," he murmured with exaggerated +humility, "I'll say that I--now who the dickens is that? The Simms kid. +Johnny Simms. What does he want? I----" His voice trailed off into +silence as he watched a boy who came galloping up on a pony to speak to +Courtlandt. Tommy unconsciously caught the bridle of the girl's horse. +Bubbles and Soapy, who had been paddock mates, nuzzled noses. The girl +and man watching saw the boy hand Steve a paper, then whirl and gallop +away as though pursued by a thousand furies. + +"That's queer," Benson observed under his breath. + +"What's queer?" asked Peggy in the same hushed whisper. + +"That the boy should break away like that. He adores Steve. So do the +other Simms kids. Now what is Courtlandt doing? Burning something?" as +a wisp of smoke fell to the ground. + +"Why don't you go and find out?" in a tone which was own cousin to his. + +"Nothing doing. You don't know Steve. I'm here; he knows it. He never +misses a trick. If he wants me he'll shout. There, you see? He doesn't," +as Courtlandt, after a glance at the ground where the smoke had fallen, +galloped across the field toward the ranch road. + +"You're fond of Steve, aren't you?" Peggy probed as they headed their +horses toward Upper Farm. + +"Fond of him! That's a deleted, diluted expression of my sentiments for +the Whistling Lieut. We literally went through fire and water overseas; +since then I've been on the ranch. You see, the German Inn where Steve +and I sojourned for a couple of months didn't have a particularly +beneficial effect on my health, so when I got back to the good old U. S. +A. I came here to recuperate and I have stayed." + +"Haven't you any family?" + +"I have. One devoted, in-perfect-condition mother, 1921 model, ditto +father. She is coming out next week. Hasn't your sister written you +about me?" curiously. + +"What conceit! She hasn't written pages about you," with a laugh which +sent the color to his face in a flood. "She wrote that you were here, +that Steve said that you had a future if you'd stick to ranching and +leave celluloid alone--now what did he mean by that?" + +"So Steve said that I was a man with a future, did he? Make a mental +note of that, Miss Glamorgan," his tone and look brought a startled +flash to eyes which had been so boyishly friendly. He steadied his voice +before he went on: "I've had a fool idea that I wanted to be a +movie-actor--but----" + +"But don't you want to any more?" + +"No." + +"When did you experience a change of heart?" + +"This morning at exactly two o'clock, I decided that there was nothing +in it, that I wanted to be a solid citizen with a settled abiding +place." + +"Two o'clock! Why, that was when I reached Slippy----" With heightened +color she tightened her rein and touched Bubbles with her heels. "I'll +race you to the farmhouse," she called over her shoulder, a curious +breathlessness in her voice. She kept the lead till they reached the +gate of the farm, then Benson caught her horse by the bridle. + +"The back of your head is attractive but I like your face better. Don't +you want to hear the romantic story of Mrs. Simms before we get there? +She's a Heart and Ringer." + +"A--a what?" + +It was no longer necessary to hold the bridle of the girl's horse. She +forced him to a walk. + +"Heart and Ringer. That is what they call the women who marry men who +advertise in the matrimonial sheet, Heart and Ring." + +"Really, Tommy! Did Mrs. Simms do that?" + +"She did, and she got just what she paid for. Simms is a bounder but +he's thrifty as the dickens and an A 1 workman. That's what caught Old +Nick in the beginning. He'd have employed the devil himself had he those +characteristics. But the man is ugly and insolent. How Steve puts up +with him beats me. It is because of Mrs. Simms, I suppose. She is a fine +woman and a corker in the dairy. She lived in Montana. She was the +daughter of a miner who had made his pile and gone to farming. Montana +got on her nerves, so when she saw Simms' 'ad' in Heart and Ring she +corresponded with him and married him. I'll bet a hat Montana has looked +like heaven to her ever since. That was one of their children who met +Steve. I'd give my Kipling de luxe to know why." + +He drew rein before the white farmhouse which hugged the ground like a +mammoth brooding hen. In the field beyond was a spatter effect of snowy +dairies and cow-barns. Black and white Holsteins, creamy Jerseys, +Guernseys and a few Ayreshires grazed epicureanly in the lush pastures +that climbed the foot-hills. + +A slender, wiry woman, who gave a fresh-from-the-laundry impression, so +immaculate, so clear of skin, so smooth of hair was she, greeted Peg and +Benson as they dismounted. Her smile was obliterated as Tommy's eyes +lingered on her arm. She hastily pulled down her sleeves and buttoned +them snugly at the wrists. + +"It sure is fine to see you, Mr. Benson. You ain't taken my advice so +soon and got a wife, have you?" she asked with a laugh and twinkle in +the eyes which nature had intended for a merry blue, but which Life, +aided and abetted by Heart and Ring and--Simms, had threshed to an +apprehensive gray. + +"No such luck, Mrs. Simms. This is Mrs. Courtlandt's sister, Miss +Margaret Glamorgan. We came with a message from the Chief for Simms. +Where is he? At the dairy?" + +"I'm sure pleased to know you, Miss. Simms has gone to--to Slippy Bend, +Mr. Tommy." + +"She's lying," Benson decided, even as he directed: "When he gets back +tell him to report at the office to-morrow noon, sharp, with his +accounts. Has he been up to his old tricks again?" His eyes fell as +though by accident to her arms. + +The woman's eyes, her lips, changed in expression. It was as though her +features, red-hot with life and interest, had been run into a mold and +hardened. + +"He has that, Mr. Tommy." + +"Is there any use in repeating what I have said before, that you ought +to leave him?" + +"An' I say as I said before, you're wrong, Mr. Tommy. I promised in the +sight of God and man to stick to him as long as we both lived. I wasn't +forced to marry Simms. I did it of my own free Will--my own fool will," +contemptuously. "I'd be a fine example to my children, wouldn't I, if I +tried to get out of marriage just because it wasn't the romantic +joy-ride I'd expected. It would be different if Simms abused the +children; he never lays a hand on 'em. He wouldn't dare," with a glitter +in her eyes. "You and Mr. Tommy'll stay and have a bite of lunch with +us, won't you, Miss? Mr. Courtlandt always has his when he comes." + +Her change of voice and subject was so sudden that it caught Peggy's +hazel eyes, glistening with tears, fixed upon her face. The girl blinked +the mist away, slipped her hand under the woman's firm arm and inquired +with irresistible charm: + +"Will there be jelly cookies, Mrs. Simms?" + +The blue came back to the eyes for a moment. + +"Surely. Aha, Mr. Tommy, now I know what you came for." + +"I didn't tell her about them. It was the Big Chief." + +"Mr. Steve!" The blue suffered a total eclipse. "Did he come with you?" + +"As far as Lower Field. By the way, what's wrong with Johnny? He +galloped up to Courtlandt, stuck out his hand, then beat it." + +"But he stuck out his hand?" + +"Surest thing you know." + +Mrs. Simms exhaled to the limit of her flat chest. + +"That's all right, then. Johnny--Johnny found a sparkling stone--and he +said as how he thought 'twas gold--and he's--he's pestered me to death +till I told him he could ask Mr. Steve if he could stake off a claim. +Minin's in his blood. My father was a miner, Miss. I guess I'd better +get busy about dinner, not stand talking here," she explained as she +hurried away. + +Benson's eyes followed her as he perched on a corner of the porch +railing and lighted his pipe. Peg had gone into the house to help. He +could hear the two voices, the woman's a high strident tone, the girl's +like music with a joyous note running through it. The delectable odor of +bacon and frying chicken drifted out to him and set his already rampant +appetite clamoring for satisfaction. Mrs. Simms had cut that boy and +pebble story from whole cloth, if he was a judge of human nature, and +he'd bet his last dollar that he was, Benson thought, as he changed his +seat to one from which he could look inside the room which served as +living-room and dining-room at Upper Farm. + +It was for all the world like the pictures one saw in mail-order +catalogues, he thought with a smile. There was an old-time melodion in +one corner and an up-to-date phonograph in another. There was golden oak +furniture in profusion. The walls were covered with a paper on which +impossible roses fought for supremacy with more impossible alleged birds +of paradise. How could a person think between such walls, Tommy +wondered. He had the feeling as he looked that birds and roses were +being stuffed down his throat. In the midst of his reflections Mrs. +Simms called him. + +The three children slipped shyly into their chairs after the strangers +were seated. They were boys, ranging in age from four to ten. Johnny had +not come home, apparently. They had almost white hair and eyes shaped +like the eyes of sculpins, which they kept fixed on Peggy Glamorgan, +after the hypnotic effect of the company blue and white checked +table-cloth, the pressed glass spoon-holder, and the best gold-banded +plates with a big S in a funereal-like wreath on the border, had worn +off. + +Benson smiled to himself as he watched them. They were doing frankly and +unreproved what he longed to do. Extreme youth had some compensations. +He lost himself in a radiant dream of possibilities and became as +absorbed with his inward vision as the scions of the house of Simms were +with the material and fascinating Peg herself. He was quite unconscious +that the girl was observing him in amused wonder. + +"What did Johnny mean by staking a claim, Mrs. Simms?" she inquired as +with the air of a dainty gourmand she set her teeth in a second cookie. +"I would have asked Mr. Benson, but who am I to rouse him from his dream +of--of fair women, perhaps--yes?" with a ripple of laughter. + +Tommy roused with a start and colored generously. + +"I beg pardon, I was----" + +"That's what miners do when they think they've found gold," interrupted +Mrs. Simms, quite unconscious of the byplay. "They stake off a lot of +land and post it. Sometimes they don't work it for a year or more." + +"Then why take possession? Isn't that dog-in-the-manger stuff?" + +"No, because they really want it. They stake their claim so that no +other man can get it," broke in Benson. "And if you ask me, I'll say +that it's a whale of an idea," he added with a curious light in his +eyes. "Young woman, if you have finished your cookie gorge we will +depart." + +"Cookie gorge! Slanderer! Mrs. Simms, did I eat as many as he?" + +"Don't perjure yourself, Mrs. Simms. Come, Peg-o'-my-heart!" He realized +that his eyes were acting as town-criers for his emotions and shifted +his gaze from the girl to the woman. She sensed their message and +exclaimed impulsively: + +"My stars, ain't it great to be young and--and free!" + +"You've said it, Mrs. Simms," agreed Peg with her woman-of-the-world air +as she drew on her riding gloves. "Catch me settling down. Never! And +that's that!" + +The woman's troubled eyes sought Benson's. He laughed and held out his +hand. "Good-bye, Mrs. Simms. Don't you worry. Having attained the +titanic and imposing age of eighteen the lady would naturally have +caustic views on matrimony. It will come out right and--and that's +that!" he observed cryptically. "Be sure that Simms reports to-morrow. +The Big Chief has about all he can handle now; we don't want him +worried." + +It was not until Benson and Peg neared the Double O ranch that they +came back to the subject of their late hostess. They had spent a lazy, +happy afternoon, making Tommy's daily round of inspection which he +usually covered in two hours. + +"Do you think Simms hurts her?" the girl broke out suddenly, apropos of +nothing. "Did you see those marks on her arm? Why, oh why, does she stay +with him?" with a shudder. + +"You heard why." + +"Yes, and do you know what I saw when she said that about God and man? I +didn't see her at all; it was a close-up of Jerry's eyes at her wedding, +and the clergyman saying, 'And forsaking all others.' Those words echoed +in my brain for days. Jerry is like Mrs. Simms. She'd keep a vow like +that if it killed her." + +"Wouldn't you?" + +"You never can tell," flippantly. "At least I don't intend to get into a +position where I'll have to for years--and--years--and years----" The +last words floated back to him with laughter as she galloped off. She +kept the breakneck pace till she pulled up at the court entrance. Benson +was off his horse before she could dismount. He lifted her from the +saddle and with his arms about her drew her into the garden. + +"I won't take possession till you give me leave,--but--but I--I'll stake +my claim now, and that's that!" he whispered huskily as he kissed her +once upon her white throat. + +"Mr. Tommee! Mr. Tommee Benson!" called a voice from the path as Ming +Soy in her gay silks came running toward them. Her slant eyes were +almost wide. "Misses Stevie went off on horse after lunch. Tlell Ming +Soy just going to flield; Ming Soy bleat glong when you and little +Missis come, but she didn't go to flield, and she never come back--not +all this time." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Jerry Courtlandt lingered on the porch to watch her sister and Benson as +they raced down the drive. Her eyebrows met in a thoughtful frown. What +would her father say if Peg fell in love with Benson, with his +poor-but-honest background? There was no "if" about Tommy. Cupid had set +signal fires to burning in his eyes already. Benson pere had begun his +business career as an errand boy; now he twinkled a large and somewhat +dazzling planet in the select heaven of the multies. Well, Glamorgan the +oil-king couldn't expect both his daughters to marry the man of his +choice. She had done it and what had been her reward? Because she had +views as to right and wrong and justice he refused to write to her. +Evidently Peg didn't know the terms of Nicholas Fairfax's will or she +wouldn't have been surprised at her lack of enthusiasm about the +Alexandrite. Two thousand dollars! It seemed a more stupendous sum than +twenty thousand would have seemed to her a year ago. Values were curious +things. What had Steve thought? She was beginning to dread his +eyes--they were so searching, so compelling. + +If she wanted and needed money, she would earn it; other women had been +doing it for years; she wouldn't accept it from Steve any other way. In +spite of his prohibition she would work on the books for a while. She +paused before she entered the house to draw a long breath and take a +look at the glorious world about her. The sky spread like a cerulean +canopy flecked with motionless white clouds. It seemed near. She felt +more as though she were looking up at a vast, decorated dome than at the +heavens. Almost she expected to see Dawn or any one of the symbolic +head-liners in the mural world, come trailing her scanty draperies +across the blue. The far-off mountains reared a patchwork of purple and +blue and gold. The noisy stream was fringed with color. The fields +rustled their content in the sunshine. On the road to the X Y Z rose a +cloud of dust. + +"Somebody coming!" she thought with a thrill of excitement. Then she +laughed and looked down at the dog who stood in stately, aloof dignity +beside her. "Goober, I'm getting to be like a prairie-dog who parks +outside his hole to see the pass," she confided. She still watched the +approaching riders. When she recognized in them Felice Denbigh and Bruce +Greyson she regretted that she had lingered. It was too late to +disappear now. The owner of the X Y Z had seen her and waved his hand. +With a feeling of repugnance, which shocked her even as it swept her, +Jerry went to the steps to greet the riders. Felice in her smart silvery +linen looked as though she had been removed recently from tissue +wrappings. Greyson's eyes met Jerry's. Was she mistaken that they were +full of a wordless apology, she wondered, even as she greeted the two +cordially. + +"Doesn't this morning look as though it had just been returned from the +dry-cleanser's?" she asked gayly. "Did you ever feel anything more spick +and span than the air? Won't you come in?" + +"Thanks, no." Felice Denbigh's answer was hurried. "Where is Steve? He +invited me to inspect the Double O with him this morning. He was to come +for me but I tired of the rôle of patient Griselda and made Mr. Greyson +bring me over. Not that I had to work hard to persuade him." Her light +tone was tinged with malice as she administered one of those subtle +female digs commonly imperceptible to the male intelligence. Jerry +caught the obvious reply between her teeth and substituted: + +"Steve was called to Lower Field. I--I doubt if he can ride with you +this morning, Mrs. Denbigh." + +If a glance could have accomplished it, Jerry would have been neatly and +expeditiously skinned, then and there. Felice's voice had the edge of a +hari-kari sword as she answered: + +"Steve is the person to decide that. Which way to Lower Field, Mr. +Greyson?" Her host's eyes flamed. + +"If Mrs. Courtlandt thinks----" + +"Oh, but Mrs. Courtlandt doesn't think," protested Jerry laughingly. "Do +show Mrs. Denbigh the way to Lower Field, Bruce. I should be delighted +to go myself but for a letter which must be ready for Sandy this +morning. You will find----" + +Felice Denbigh was off before she had finished her sentence. Greyson +followed without a word. Jerry looked after the two with troubled eyes. +Her thoughts were in a turmoil. + +"What has happened to Bruce Greyson?" she thought anxiously. "His +conversational output has shrunk till what he says seems a waste of +breath, it amounts to so little. One would think he was under a spell. I +wonder--I wonder if Steve did make a date with her?" she mused aloud as +she crossed the court on her way to the office. José, busy among his +flowers, swept off his hat with his single-tooth smile. + +"_Buenos dias, Señora._ My roses bloom brighter as you pass, yes?" +Benito, balancing on one claw on the rim of the fountain, shivered, +blinked his yellow eyes and croaked hoarsely: + +"Piffle!" + +With a shocked exclamation José flung a chunk of loam at the parrot. It +hit him squarely and knocked him backward into the shallow basin. With +frightened squawks and much ruffling of feathers the bird regained his +place on the basin's rim. For an instant he indulged in a what-hit-me +blink, then with his gaudy plumage looking as though it had been +electrified croaked angrily: + +"I'll be d----!" + +José swooped and muffled the final word beneath his coat. "You weel +pardon, Señora? It is Señor Tommee that teaches Benito seence he come to +the rancho. I teach heem when he ees so leetle to speak only good. Not +till one year ago does he begin to talk like wild devil. Señora weel +pardon? He ees all I have, he ees like my child." + +Jerry accepted the brown man's apology as seriously as it was offered. + +"Children are a great responsibility. You never can tell what they will +do, can you, José?" + +The office seemed a dull, uninteresting drab in contrast to the light +and color of the world outside. Even the silent witnesses to the drama +and lawlessness of the country, now guarded jealously by glass doors, +failed to spur the girl's imagination. She streamed the curtain up at +the window. A light haze of dust lingered above the road Greyson and +Felice had taken. The music of the stream stole into the quiet room; +down in the corral a horse whinnied intriguingly; the whole gleaming +out-of-doors lured, the mountains beckoned. + +Jerry resolutely barred heart and mind against temptation and attacked +her letters. She worked with single-track intentness until Ming Soy +announced luncheon. She looked up in surprise. Her work had burned up +the hours. She interned the typewriter and closed her desk with a bang. +She flexed her muscles in luxurious enjoyment of the sensation. What a +relief to move, but it wasn't even a sliver of the relief she felt when +she looked down at the sheaf of letters awaiting Steve's signature. How +it would have pleased her father to know that she had resisted the +temptation to be up and away on Patches, she thought wistfully. She +could see him now, hear his gruff voice saying: + +"Jerry, the more you dread the thing you have to do, the more you should +hustle to get it behind you. Make that a rule of your life and you'll +find you will have all the time you want and some left with which to +speculate." He was a resplendent example of the working out of his own +precept, his daughter thought. He was the busiest man she knew yet he +always had an abundance of time for pleasure. + +What should she do with her afternoon, she wondered, as she enjoyed the +dainty luncheon Ming Soy served in a shady corner of the court. The air +had lost the keenness of the morning. Birds flew to the rim of the +basin, observed the girl at the table critically for an instant, then +proceeded with the day's ablutions. They chattered, they splashed, they +scolded, they preened and dressed their feathers in the sun. Butterflies +darted in and out among the blossoms. There were none of the usual ranch +sounds to break the stillness. Where were the men? Had Steve taken them +all with him, she wondered. What were Peg and Tommy doing? Peg might see +some real riding if she caught up with the outfit before they started +off in pursuit of the missing cattle, but alas for buckskin fringes +and---- + +Suddenly a plan sprang full panoplied, complete, from her brain. It was +born of her what-shall-I-do-now mood. If necessity is the mother of +invention, idleness is the father of adventure. She would array herself +in one of the cowboy suits behind the glass doors, mount Patches and +ride to the field behind the ranch-house, practise with a six-shooter +until Peg came, then she'd dash toward her with her gun "spittin' death +and damnation" into the air. + +Her idea developed with magic-beanstalk rapidity, as all ideas will if +they are dropped in fertile and well-cultivated soil. She laughed until +she was breathless as she confronted herself in the mirror in her own +room an hour later. Over her linen riding breeches she had drawn a pair +of flapping black and white Angora chaps. Great Mexican rowels adorned +her riding boots. A hectic yellow bandana, with red spots which gave the +cheery effect of a geometrical nosebleed, almost covered her delicate +blouse. Her sleeves were rolled to the elbows, at her hip swung a +six-shooter of sinister portent. A heavy belt filled with cartridges +sagged from her waist. She had slipped a silver filigree band above the +black and gold cord of Steve's campaign hat. + +In a little whirlwind of laughter she blew a kiss to the gleaming eyes +of her vis-à-vis and lifted the saddle which she had purloined from the +glass case. It was gay with silver. The tapideros were choice examples +of Mexican craftsmanship. The head-stall of the bridle was fantastically +trimmed with the metal. As Jerry passed through the living-room the huge +rowels on her boots caught in the rug. She dropped the saddle with a +crash and caught at the table to save herself from falling. Her eyes +were bright, her cheeks pink when she had Patches saddled. She had +brought him up from the corral herself before she dressed. He rolled +his great eyes at her as she came out of the house. He pranced +skittishly until she spoke. Then he quieted but he kept an appraising, +suspicious eye on her. As the crowning touch of realism Jerry fastened a +coil of rawhide rope beside the saddle fork. + +It was with difficulty, punctuated by _sotto voce_ exclamations, that +the girl mounted. The chaps were heavy and perversely unadaptable. As +she gathered up the reins Ming Soy appeared at the door. The little +Oriental's eyes were globules of wonder. Jerry anticipated her. + +"I am off to practise shooting in the field behind the house, Ming Soy. +Don't be frightened if you hear shots. Watch the road for Miss Glamorgan +and Mr. Benson. They ought to be here within an hour. The moment they +appear in sight sound the gong at the back of the ranch-house. Do you +understand?" + +"All light. Ming Soy understan'. Slandy tlell Hopi Soy he see Clarey +range-rider ketch Double O steers, other day. Said first he thought he +doin' it for Hopi Soy's chief, so he doan't say nodin'. Now he wonder." + +"Ming Soy! Are you sure?" + +"Slandy tlell Hopi Soy he see um ketch um. Clarey range-rider drove +steers over hill black of Blear Cleek ranch, Slandy tlell Hopi Soy." + +"Ming Soy, don't let anyone know you told me that." + +"All light, Ming Soy no tlell." + +Jerry didn't know why she put that embargo on the Chinese woman's +tongue. Perhaps a vague fear that a warning would get to the thief +prompted it. The girl's mind was in a tumult as she raced Patches along +the road. She didn't stop to unfasten the gate, she jumped it. As she +entered the field which led to the stream she had quite forgotten the +exhibition she had staged for Peg. She had suspected that range-rider of +crookedness. Absorbed in thought she allowed Patches to race across the +rustic bridge. The thud of his hoofs on the wood brought her back to the +present. She pulled the horse down to a walk. Where was she going? To +see what was on the other side of that ridge beyond which the +range-rider had disappeared! + +She followed the pack-trail cautiously. Bear Creek ranch-house in the +glare of sunshine was outlined distinctly against the dark cliff behind +it. Was it only this morning that she had come out of that door to find +Steve waiting for her? She had the curious feeling of being in another +decade. How were things going with the little mother, she wondered +and--and where was the Man of Mystery? + +She touched Patches lightly with the great spurs and raced along the +trail toward the hill. It didn't seem possible that the man who had +seemed so concerned when he came for her last night could be a +rustler--but Sandy had seen him and the calves were missing. Her +thoughts urged her on. She was the one person of authority within reach. +She didn't know just what she intended to do, but she must do something. +She only knew that a frenzied voice somewhere inside her head kept +reiterating: + +"He shan't get away with it! He shan't get away with it!" + +Once as she climbed the hill she thought she saw a horse's head behind a +tree. Her heart choked her with its pounding. The object proved to be +nothing more intimidating than a black stump. When she reached the top +of the slope she came upon a clump of dead trees standing spectral and +white. She rode through them till she emerged in a clearing from which +she could look down into the valley. + +Below lay a trough of the hills. Heat waves pulsed above it. Over its +surface, pockmarked with gopher holes, tumbleweed rolled and billowed +and stacked against rocks and fallen timber in uncanny, shifting masses. +Purple-gray and green sage-brush dotted it. Alkali whitened it in +streaks. Beyond the hollow stretched a belt of upheaved ridges of +brick-red sandstone. Between each ridge lay emerald green valleys with +little streams cutting through at nearly right angles. Higher and higher +rose the hills beyond till they loomed to mountains whose sides were +clothed with forests that had never paid toll to the lumber-jack, whose +snowy peaks, gold now in the sunshine, bared their jagged fangs to the +soft blue of the sky. They lured and beckoned with their mysterious +silences. + +At the base of the slope on which Jerry stood was a circular hole +perhaps three hundred feet in diameter and ten feet deep. At one side of +it, near a pool, were the unmistakable traces of a camp. There were the +ashes of a fire and beside them the mutilated body of a calf. The place +gave an intangible sense of tragedy and terror. + +Stepping as though the ground under her feet were a network of mines, +any one of which might be jarred into disastrous activity by an +inadvertent pressure of her foot, Jerry led Patches among the trees and +fastened him. She stole back over the carpet of pine needles, her chaps +flapping awkwardly at every step. She threw herself flat on the ground +from which she could see the hollow and waited. From somewhere came the +howl of a coyote; there seemed a million of them when the hills sent +back the echo. High and motionless in the sky a great bird poised to +reconnoiter then sailed and wheeled and dove. A gopher in front of his +hole beat Jack-in-the-box at his disappearing trick. + +Jerry shivered. Now she knew where she was, "Buzzard's Hollow." She +hated the wailing coyote and she cared less, even less, for that +horrible winged thing by the pool. Had the Bear Creek range-rider joined +the campers? If she could only see the brand on that calf. But she +couldn't; it would be madness to go down into the hollow. She must hurry +back to the Double O and report. Slowman, the corral boss, would be +there if no one else was. Someone should see that calf before the +buzzards had obliterated all trace of the owner. + +The girl sprang to her feet and ran to unloose Patches. Now that she had +decided to go her courage was disappearing as rapidly as vapor in the +sunshine. How terrifyingly empty of anything human the great spaces +seemed. She saw a menace behind every bush, a lurking danger behind +every tree. Apparently Patches' imagination was working overtime too. It +was a nervous horse she mounted but, as she turned toward the trail +which led to the Double O and safety, something drew her round. Perhaps +it was a sound, perhaps the lazy blue sweep of the mountains hypnotized +her. She guided Patches to the clearing from which she looked down into +the hollow. She couldn't have explained why she did it; it might have +been a morbid curiosity to see if the great bird was feasting on the +carrion. Her horse showed increased nervousness with every step. He +began to shake. Jerry slipped to the ground and laid her face against +his soft nose. + +"What is it, boy? We're going back----" + +A howl, a hair-raising mixture of banshee-wail and wildcat scream, +callioped behind them. Patches stood not upon the order of his going but +went at once. Snorting with terror he jerked the bridle from the girl's +hand and racketed down the hillside toward the hollow. For a moment +Jerry was rigid with terror, then she gripped her stampeding senses. + +She must think. She was alone with that yelling demon--she couldn't get +home without her horse--her next move was to follow Patches--he would +get over his fright and answer her call. The dangling six-shooter at her +side gave her courage. If her silly masquerading as a cowboy had done +nothing else, it had given her that. + +She slipped and slid down the slope. She caught at shrubs and stumps to +retard her too impetuous progress; they sampled the fringes of her black +and white chaps as she went by. She stubbed her toe upon a piece of +rock. The next instant it seemed to her excited fancy as though the +hillside gave way and took her with it. + +"Detour!" she chuckled hysterically as down, down, down she went with a +mass of dirt and gravel. She shielded her face with one hand as with the +other she made futile grabs at the ground. It seemed as though eons of +time passed as she rolled down the hill. Steve's hat went bounding down +ahead of her. "I wonder how many miles I've gone now?" she thought with +a frightened laugh. Then, as suddenly as she had started she stopped +against something big and weather-stained and unyielding. + +She lay passive for a moment looking up in dazed surprise. She was lying +beside a wooden shack. Strange that she had not seen it when she looked +down into the hollow. It must have been directly under the bank from +which she made her reconnaisance. She shut her eyes and stilled a cry as +she felt a hot breath on her cheek. Had the wildcat--she set her teeth +and looked up between cautiously parted lids--looked up into the brown +eyes of Patches. The horse was reeking wet, but he had stopped +trembling. His lips twitched against her cheek with a clumsy, quivering +caress. With a sob of thanksgiving Jerry threw her arms about his neck +and tried to rise. She fell back with a frightened laugh. From her waist +down she was buried in earth. + +She controlled a frantic desire to attack the gravel furiously and +scooped it away with slow and telling precision. Patches waited +patiently. Possibly he realized that having landed his mistress in the +dilemma it was only a square deal that he stand by. Jerry's heart +pounded as she scooped. What was on the other side of that wooden wall? +The headquarters of Ranlett and his gang? Was the calf lying in the +hollow one of those the range-rider had appropriated from the Double O? + +The gravel half removed the girl flung her arms about the horse's neck +and drew herself free. The black and white chaps remained partially +covered in earth and sand. Jerry took account of the damages. There was +a stinging, smarting scratch along one cheek, the sleeve of her blouse +was torn from the shoulder, her hair was a mass on her shoulders. +Nothing serious, she congratulated herself, as she tidied her hair, +removed a jeweled bar-pin from under the flamboyant bandana, and +fastened her sleeve in place with it. The scratch was the only real +casualty. Now that she was here she wondered if she couldn't find the +brand on that calf herself. + +Cautiously she tied Patches to a stump. The click of his hoof against a +rock sent her heart fluttering to her throat. She shrank against the +house and held her breath. No sound came from within or from the hollow. +She must have frightened off everything alive when she came crashing +down the hill. + +Reassured she picked up her hat which had landed near her and put it on. +It was curious what courage the touch of it gave her. It was as though +Steve had spoken. She could almost hear his "Steady, little girl, +steady!" She tiptoed round to the front of the shack. The slanting sun +shone on two dirty windows in sagging frames from which some of the +panes had been broken. In one of the survivors a round hole radiating +tiny cracks told a story without words. Desertion had laid its spell on +the place. The cabin was roofed with dirt and hay. Its board sides were +warped and weather-stained. The door in the middle sagged and swung +uncannily in the light breeze. What lay behind it? Evidence that would +convict Ranlett? + +Her heart pounding out the measure of her racing blood Jerry laid her +hand on the rusty iron handle of the door. Its hinges creaked dolorously +as she swung it wide. The sound echoed curiously within the empty +shack--but--was it an echo? The doubt sent a million little icy shivers +pricking through Jerry's veins. Her heart winged to her throat. She +swallowed it valiantly and put a hesitating foot across the threshold. + +It took an instant for her eyes to adjust themselves to the dimness +after the glare outside. Then the furnishings begun to take shape. A +cracked stove, red with rust, stood against the wall opposite; there was +a table with shreds of oilcloth hanging from it; a chair which had been +fashioned from a packing-box leaned against the table in three-legged +dejection; the door of a cupboard hung on one hinge displaying an array +of crockery and tin, in all stages of dilapidation and rust. Across one +end of the room was a built-in bunk. A ragged saddle-blanket trailed +from the side of it. + +What--what--was that! Had her imagination tricked her or had that dirty +blanket stirred? Jerry clutched the door. Even as she stood there, too +frightened to move, there came the muffled sound which she had thought +was an echo. Her vague sense of tragedy merged into something tangible +and threatening. Someone was under that blanket! Was it an injured +man--or--or--was it a decoy? + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Jerry never knew how long she stood with her eyes fixed in fascinated +terror on that heap in the bunk. Should she mount Patches as soon as her +frenzied feet would take her to him, or should she stay and help the man +if he were wounded? Head urged flight, heart urged help. She remembered +the parable of the Good Samaritan only to remind herself that the +rescuer had been a man. + +Another moan from the bunk decided her. Setting the door wide she drew +the six-shooter from its holster; unloaded even, it gave her a feeling +of strategic advantage, and with the gun gripped tight in her hand +tiptoed across the room. Every vestige of color had fled from her face +as with icy, shaking fingers she lifted a corner of the dingy blanket. +Under it a man lay on his face his hands and feet securely tied. + +"Beechy!" + +The four walls flung back the girl's hoarse whisper. + +"Beechy!" "Beechy!" "Beechy!" they chorused. + +Jerry looked down in dumb incredulity. She recognized the rampant +reddish, hair, the dent at the corner of one exposed eye. As though her +voice had penetrated to his consciousness the man rolled toward her. The +six-shooter clattered to the floor. The stunning effect of her discovery +was quickly tempered by the man's condition. Beechy, the man who had +saved Steve's life, was hurt, helpless. Her fingers attacked the knots +in the rope which bound him. She tugged, she pulled without making the +least impression. Was there not something in the room which would cut? +The minutes were flying! Someone might come. She ran to the cupboard and +seized a tin can. The cover was jagged. She tried to saw the rope with +that but it made no impression on the twisted hemp. She threw it from +her and looked about the room again--then--she rubbed her eyes; was that +a knife sticking in the wall above the bunk--or was she just seeing it? + +She stepped up on the edge of the bunk and touched it. It was real! With +an inarticulate cry of triumph the girl seized it. With teeth set hard +in her under lip she attacked the rope again. She stopped every few +moments to listen. Once she caught the far off call of a coyote--then +Patches whinnied. She dropped in a little heap on the floor, her hand +pressed hard against her heart to still its thumping--but nothing +stirred outside. She went on with her work. It seemed ages before she +had freed Beechy's arms and another century of time before the cords +were cut which bound his feet. + +She touched his head gently. There was no trace of blood. He must have +been stunned and tied, his captors relying upon the remoteness and +abandoned appearance of the shack to cover their work. Why had they done +it, Jerry wondered. Beechy had said that he had contracted to work on +the railroad. She remembered his answer to Steve's protest, "You know, +there is honor among thieves." Had he been linked up with Ranlett? But +Ranlett had nothing to do with the railroad. + +If she could only get him up. When she tried to lift him the clumsy +cartridge belt with the dangling holster kept getting in her way. With +an impatient exclamation she unfastened it and dropped it to the floor. +Then she slid the man's feet from the bunk, put her arms under him and +lifted him. His head rolled to her shoulder. How hot it was. If only she +had water! Her eyes roved about the cabin. No hope there. Through the +doorway, not twenty yards away, she could see the pool with the carcass +of the calf lying beyond it. With the possibility of lurking enemies, +had she the courage to go out to that? + +Beechy stirred and lifted heavy lids. The eyes beneath them were glazed +with pain. He looked about the room, then up at the face bending over +him. His gaze lingered a moment dreamily, then incredulously, then it +seemed as though his brain made a superhuman effort to break the spell +which bound it. + +"Mrs. Lieut.!" he tried to get to his feet but his head rolled weakly +back to the girl's shoulder. "Go! Go!" he whispered hoarsely. He made +another effort to sit up. He gripped the edge of the bunk till the flesh +under his finger nails showed white. "If I could get water to--to cool +this--this devilish fire in my head--go--Ranlett----" his clearing gaze +fastened on the long scratch on her cheek--"For the love of--did they +get you too?" + +Jerry gently forced him back. + +"No--no, I fell. Lie still, Beechy, while I go for water. Every moment +that you keep quiet counts. Your head is not cut, there is nothing the +matter that I can discover except that you were stunned. Don't move +while I am gone. When I come back we will get away from here--we--we +must. Remember that my safety depends upon you now and keep perfectly +still until I come back." + +It was quite the reverse, his safety depended upon her, Jerry thought, +but she knew his type. Her need of his help would do more than anything +else to clear his mind. She picked up the tin can she had used as a saw +and went to the door. She looked back. Beechy was lying with closed +eyes, the lines about his mouth relaxed. + +The sun had dropped behind a high mountain. The air was sultry. A tinge +of rose had replaced the gold of the afternoon coloring. In the +southwest an unobtrusive bank of cloud had appeared. The tumbleweed +still stirred with every breath of air but everything else was still. +Jerry could see now, what she had not noticed from above, parallel +grooves in the ground through the middle of the hollow. + +"That's strange! Those ruts look like the marks of wagon wheels, but how +could a wagon get down here?" she thought. She hesitated an instant on +the threshold. Fortunately the pool was on a level with the cabin. Had +the shack been on the opposite side of the hollow she would have had a +ten-foot drop before she reached the level. The small body of water +looked a thousand miles away and the room behind her, which had seemed +sinister and forbidding a while before, seemed a haven of refuge now. So +quickly do values shift in the crises of life. + +"The more you dread the thing you have to do the more you should hustle +to get it behind you," Jerry admonished herself and made a dash for the +pool. For an instant the air seemed full of flapping, dark wings, then +it cleared. She kept her eyes resolutely away from the body of the calf. +The water was low. She had to lie flat to reach it. She wasted time in +trying to dip deep enough to get clear of the tumbleweed which floated +on top. When she had it to her satisfaction she sat back on her heels +and inspected the contents of the dripping can. + +"This will have to do," she announced to the world at large. "I----" + +"That depends on what you're getting it for, don't it?" inquired a voice +behind her. + +The insolence of it, the portent of it, brought Jerry to her feet. The +precious water slopped wastefully. She had the sense of suspended +animation as she looked up at the man sardonically observing her, then a +sense of sudden, ungovernable panic. It was the late manager of the +Double O with the bridle of his horse, The Piker, a big, lanky chestnut, +in his left hand. + +"Ranlett!" + +Her own frightened whisper infuriated her. She had spoken to the man +looming over her as seldom as she conveniently could; always she had +distrusted him. She looked at him now as though seeing him for the first +time. His black hair had a white streak from the middle of his forehead +to his neck, which had earned him the soubriquet of "The Skunk," from +the outfit; his eyes were steel gray, his thin-lipped mouth was nothing +more than a crooked slit in his face, his chin was stubborn. Jerry's +gaze returned to that feature and lingered. Apparently he was as amazed +to see her as she had been startled at his appearance. She felt as +though he had her wriggling under a microscope, pinned by the needle +points in his eyes as he observed caustically: + +"Well, now that you have sized me up it's my turn. What are you doing so +far from the Double O alone? Perhaps you're not alone, what?" His +attitude, the lines of his shoulders, his voice, bristled with +suspicion. + +The girl's mind indulged in one frenzied merry go-round before it +settled down to constructive thinking. For the first time in her life +she was squarely and uncompromisingly up against danger. Ranlett must +not suspect that she had been in the shack, that Beechy was unbound. He +might be in no way responsible for the condition in which she had found +the ex-sergeant, but she couldn't take a chance with Carl's, +"Ranlett--for the love of--did they get you too?" still echoing in her +ears. If she could only get him away from the place. The throbbing pulse +in her throat, which gave the impression of delicate wings beating +futilely against bars, was the only sign of her agitation as she +answered the man's question gayly. + +"I don't wonder you ask, Mr. Ranlett, I'm a sight." She laid a finger +cautiously against her scratched cheek and laughed. That laugh was a +masterpiece of its kind. "I started for Bear Creek to inquire for Mrs. +Carey, but yielded to the temptation to ride to the top of the hill. +Pandora with her box has nothing on me for curiosity. I was born with an +irresistible desire to look on the other side of things and places." The +sudden narrowing of his eyes set her to wondering what false note she +had struck, even as she went on: + +"When I dismounted the better to peer down into this hollow, something +gave a scream as of a thousand furies rampant." Her shudder was genuine. +"The sound did direful things to Patches' nerves. He bolted down the +hill. I bolted after him. I stumbled over something which must have been +the keystone of the slope, or its twin, for the hillside gave way and +landed me in an ignominious heap of dirt and gravel back of that shack. +A rolling body gathers some scratches," she paraphrased flippantly as +she felt again of her bruised face. + +"I'll say you're some little talker, Mrs. Courtlandt, when--when you're +frightened. You've never favored me with a word before," observed +Ranlett insolently. + +Two red spots burned like able-bodied beacons in Jerry's cheeks. She +knew that she had been garrulous, that she had been talking against +time, but it was maddening to be told so; the sound of her own voice had +sustained her courage. Every moment that she held the attention of the +late manager of the Double O counted for Beechy. It took all her +strength of purpose to keep her eyes from wandering to the door of the +shack. It acted like a malevolent magnet. + +"Where is your horse?" + +"Back of the cabin. I came here to get water for him." + +"Have you been in the shack?" + +"In the shack!" the shudder with which the girl turned her back upon it +would have made Nazimova pale with envy. "That--that gruesome place? +Rather not----" + +"Then you are not curious when it comes to empty houses? You're not +consistent, Pandora. Where did you get that can?" + +Jerry felt as though she were under a machine gun fire of words. The +man's insolence infuriated her. She didn't dare resent it for fear he +would leave her and investigate the cabin. She looked down at the can +she still held between finger and thumb, then at the bed of ashes +beside the pool. + +"Did I find it there or behind the shack?" She mused as though +interrogating herself, then quickly, "Is it yours? Take it if you want +it." + +"You know d--ed well that you didn't pick it up outside," Ranlett +exploded as he caught the girl by the shoulder; she felt his hot flesh +through her thin blouse. "You've been in that shack and you've----" + +"Take your hand away! Quick!" Jerry commanded, her voice hoarse, her +face white, her eyes blazing. + +"I'll let you go when I get good and ready." The man sunk his fingers +deeper into her shoulder to emphasize his words. "What's that yellow +coyote in there been telling you----" + +"Nothin' to your advantage, Ranlett. Put up your hands an' put 'em up +quick," interrupted a voice. It was Beechy, Beechy leveling Jerry's +villainous six-shooter at Ranlett's head. His face was white, one eye +was almost closed but he had an air of cocky unconcern. + +"Mrs. Lieut., grab his horse. No you don't!" as the late manager of the +Double O, arms held high above his head, tried to trip the girl. A +bullet whizzed so close to his ear that Ranlett turned a sickly green. +"Yer see, I'm a little nervous. I'm used to this old-time six-shooter; +I've been using a Colt 45. I'll get the range better next time and it'll +come closer. I didn't get my expert rifleman badge in the army for +shootin' crap. Frisk his pockets, Mrs. Lieut." For the fraction of a +second Jerry hesitated. + +"Quick! Get busy, unless you want more of his pack down on us. That's +the stuff! Now you're talkin'," as the girl produced a corpulent +revolver from a hip pocket. Ranlett's voice was hoarse with fury as he +dared: + +"You'll need that gun, Beechy, when Courtlandt finds that you and the +missus have been meeting--you sure have a way with the ladies." + +Jerry's cry was submerged in Beechy's oath. The man's face was like +granite, as gray, as immovable. Only his eyes blazed. His tone was as +cold and passionless as his face. + +"Meanin'? You'll pay for that, Ranlett, but not now. Just for fear your +gang will butt in we'll make our getaway, but remember--I'm comin' back. +I want you and I want the feller that cracked my head. Hand me his gun, +Mrs. Lieut. Lead his horse and yours to the top of the hill and +wait--don't look around--get me?" + +"Yes, I get you, sergeant--but you won't----" Jerry hesitated with the +bridle of Ranlett's big chestnut in her hand. + +"Obey orders and obey 'em quick!" + +And Jerry obeyed. With the unflurried agility Tommy had taught her she +mounted Ranlett's horse and turned him in the direction of the shack. +The animal side-stepped and tried to look in the direction of his master +but the girl touched him with her spurs, and urged him on. She unhitched +Patches. She looked like a slender boy as she led him by a backward +stretched left hand up the slope. The moments that she spent ascending +were one long prayer that the hillside would not encore its disappearing +trick. She felt an irresistible desire to look back but she remembered +the salty fate of Lot's wife and kept doggedly on. + +As she gained the shelter of the pines at the top of the hill she heard +a shot. Her face went white. Who had fired it? Ranlett or Beechy? Beechy +was weak from the blow on his head; he could easily be overcome. She +listened. A flock of magpies lighted in the tree above her, observed the +strange figure below them for a moment then flew away in noisy haste. As +the sound of their raucous voices died in the distance Jerry heard +another sound, the sound of gravel slipping. Who was coming? She hastily +changed mounts and twisted her hand in the bridle of the big horse. If +it were Ranlett she would race at breakneck speed toward Greyson's, the +X Y Z was nearer than the Double O, taking The Piker with her. Her +breath came so hard it hurt her throat. Eyes dilated with excitement she +watched the brow of the hill. The sound of the slipping gravel came +nearer and nearer. Then she heard labored breathing. The suspense was +unendurable; she felt as though she must scream. A man staggered into +sight. It was Beechy. She slipped from her horse and called him softly. + +"This way! Quick!" As he stumbled toward her she noted the pallor of his +face. She didn't dare leave the horses to go to his assistance. With a +bridle in each hand she went forward to meet him. + +"I'm about all--in, Mrs. Lieut.," he panted. "The blow and this climb +have about finished a job the--war--started." + +She slipped her arm under his. Her eyes were tender with concern. + +"Lean on me a moment. You mustn't give way now, Beechy. Get on Ranlett's +horse. We must get away from here. He may follow." He laughed weakly. + +"Follow! Nothing doing. Just to make sure he wouldn't I put a bullet +through his leg. I couldn't have him interferin' with the job you an' I +have to put across. He'll go as far as the shack while the goin's good." + +"But he may starve!" + +"You should worry. There are provisions to withstand a siege cached +under that cabin. Forget him. If you're the good little sport I you are +you've got a job----" + +"Listen!" + +Jerry laid her hand over her heart. Beechy raised his heavy head from +the side of the horse where he had rested it. His eyes narrowed into +mere slits. From the hillside came the sound of slipping gravel. + +"Well, I'll be----" + +"It's Ranlett! He's creeping up!" the girl whispered tensely. "You must +mount. He may have found a gun." Then as he shook his head weakly, "If +you don't I shall stay with you and you may never get a chance to tell +me what I am to do." + +"Help me up!" The white beneath Beechy's skin had changed to crimson. +His teeth clenched as he pulled himself into the saddle. He held tight +to the horn with his two hands. + +"Mount! Quick!" he panted. "Now ride close beside me while I tell +you----" for an instant his eyes lost their purpose. He slipped over to +one side. Jerry caught him and steadied him. + +"'Tention company!" he drawled foolishly as he tried to straighten in +the saddle. + +"You must keep on, Beechy! Grip your mind tight till we reach the +Lieutenant," pleaded the girl, always with one ear turned to the +sinister, slipping sound that drew nearer and nearer up the hillside. It +seemed as though the reference to Courtlandt had power to conjure +strength. With a stifled groan the man eased himself in the saddle. + +"I can ride this way. Don't lose your sand, Mrs. Lieut. I've pulled +through worse scrapes than this. We'll beat 'em yet." + +They left the pines and began the descent of the hill. The innocent +cloud bank in the southwest had spread in great jagged peaks until it +darkened the heavens and the fields beneath them. The stream looked like +a drab ribbon splashed with white. They rode silently. Beechy conserved +his strength. "When we get to the level I'll talk," he vouchsafed once +through blue lips. Jerry kept close beside him. Across the valley lights +were beginning to appear in the X Y Z. She felt as though she were in a +horrid nightmare from which she must waken to find herself safe in her +own charming rooms at the Double O. Beechy's voice dispelled her +illusion. In obedience to a gesture of his she pulled up her horse as +they reached the level. + +"We've got to work quick, Mrs. Lieut. This rustling dope of Ranlett's is +a bluff. When he cut the fences in Lower Field he figured that the +Double O outfit to a man would hunt for the cattle in that +direction--away from the railroad." + +"The railroad!" + +"Yes. Listen. No,--I'm not going to fall.--Not till I've put you wise." +The knuckles of his hand showed white as he gripped the saddle-horn. +"To-night a car, carrying silver bricks from the mint in Philadelphia +goes through on its way to the coast. It's attached to the regular +evening train--it's under armed guard--but--Ranlett----" It was +characteristic of the girl that instead of demanding how he knew she +announced breathlessly: + +"We must reach that train before Ranlett's gang----" + +"You've said it! Ranlett's staged the party at Devil's Hold-up. It's +only fifteen miles from the X Y Z but ten of that fifteen is wilderness. +We've got to stop that train before it reaches Greyson's crossing." + +"I'll ride for the X Y Z and get Bruce Greyson. I don't know where Steve +is," interrupted the girl breathlessly. "You go on to the Double O. The +Piker will know his way there in the dark. About ten o'clock, did you +say?" + +"Yes." Beechy's voice was weaker. "Don't let _anyone_ know but Greyson. +Ranlett has the place honeycombed with spies. I'll stay here for a +while. If he comes--moseying over--the hill----" He slipped suddenly +from the saddle to the ground. He stretched flat on his back. "A-ah! +That's better," he groaned. He tried to smile up into the concerned face +bent over him. "_C'est drôle, ça?_ I bragged that I was through with the +good old U. S. A. and the minute I find that I'm caught in a plot +against her I throw up my hands. I knew that Ranlett would kill me if I +backed out but I'd--I'd rather--die." + +"But you're not going to die, Beechy, and we'll win out," the girl +comforted eagerly. "Oh, how can I leave you like this----" + +"Mount that pony again, quick!" He gathered his strength by a superhuman +effort. "Don't think of me. I'll rest here and then I'll move on, I +promise. I want to--get out--of--this scrape as much as--you want me to. +That's right--up you--go." The last word was a whisper. He struggled to +one elbow. "Tell Greyson if he gets a chance--to put a bullet through +the man--Ranlett took on in--my place--that range-rider at Bear-Creek +ranch." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Benson regarded Ming Soy in stunned amazement. Her words, "She never +come back--not all this time," revolved stupidly round and round in his +brain. They had been catapulted into the midst of his passionate +declaration to Peggy; what she would have answered he never would know, +now. The color which the touch of his lips had brought to the girl's +face had faded; she was regarding the Chinese woman with terrified eyes. +She laid a trembling hand on Benson's arm. "Thank God, I haven't made +you hate me," he thought fervently as he gripped her cold fingers in a +comforting clasp. His faith in the wisdom of a surprise attack had been +built upon a rock, after all. + +"Tell me again, Ming Soy, just when Mrs. Courtlandt started and what she +said to you." + +In her excitement Ming Soy's English kept tripping her up, but Benson +was able to get a fairly clear idea of what had happened. + +"I watched her rode--not to the flield she tole me--no--down the road. I +listened for shoots. No shoots. No noding. No noding in flield. When +Ming Soy see you way down road, Ming Soy bleat glong." + +Benson's mind had been working with machine-like speed while he +listened. The girl beside him drew a long, ragged breath. He laid his +lips upon her hand for a moment. + +"Don't worry! I'll find her, Peg-o'-my-heart. She has probably dropped +in at Bear Creek ranch to see that new arrival and has forgotten the +time. Women are like that when there's a baby." He advanced the theory +with a light-hearted laugh which he flattered himself was a marvel of +its kind, but it merely drew a long, quivering sob from the girl. "Just +for company, I'll ride down to meet her." + +"I'll go with you," announced Peggy eagerly. + +"Nothing doing! You'll go back to the house with Ming Soy. Don't let +Hopi Soy work off any of his thrift ideas on the dinner. If Jerry has +been riding all afternoon she'll be famished, and I--I feel as if I +could eat a raw mountain lion this minute. I'll take the horses back to +the corral and get a fresh mount." + +"Please--Tommy--take me?" + +Benson closed his ears heroically against the wiles of his own +particular Circe. He shook his head; his grave eyes met the girl's +squarely. + +"Be a good little sport, Peg. I can go faster without you. Besides, +Jerry may be back before me and she would be anxious if you were not +here." + +"All right, Tommy. Come, Ming Soy." + +Benson could get no satisfaction from the man in charge of the corral. +He questioned him as he watched him shift the saddle from Soapy to a +powerful black. Slowman only knew that Mrs. Courtlandt came for Patches +at about two o'clock. She was humming and laughing softly to herself as +she led him off, quite as though she had heard some good news--or--or +was up to some mischief; women were like that, when they had something +up their sleeves, he'd noticed. None of the boys who had gone after the +Shorthorns had returned. Mr. Courtlandt had 'phoned the corral from +Slippy Bend that he should not be back to the ranch until morning, and +to keep a sharp watch over the horses. + +"By cripes, when he said that," Slowman added as he looked at Benson +with eyes so curiously crossed that they appeared to regard an object +from the north and south extremes of the pole of vision, "it sent the +creeps all over me. It was almost as good as though I'd gone back to the +days of honest-to-God hold-ups an' rustlin's. I'm sorry about Mrs. +Courtlandt, Mr. Tommy, but don't you worry. You'll like as not find her +over takin' care of Jim Carey's baby. I hear the kid's a boy," with a +sheepish grin. + +As Benson rode out from the corral he looked at the bank of clouds in +the southwest and put spurs to his horse. Ming Soy, under +cross-examination, had held stoutly to her statement that Jerry had not +gone to the field back of the ranch-house. He would ride to the B C +first. On the rustic bridge that spanned the stream he stopped to +reconnoiter then went on and rounded the clump of cottonwoods that +screened the Bear Creek buildings from his view. They were beginning to +lose their outline in the deepening gloom. The fast spreading clouds +were letting down a curtain of darkness. + +Benson had ridden but a few hundred yards when he pulled the black up +short. What was that! He listened. The air was still with that curious +sinister calm which precedes a storm. The sound came again. It was the +whinny of a horse but--but--it was not from the direction of the B C +ranch; it came from the level at the foot of the hills beyond. + +Tommy's imaginings as he raced across the field would have provided +material for a five-reel thriller of the most lurid variety. They blew +up like a balloon which has been pricked when he was near enough to the +whinnying horse to discover that it not Patches but Ranlett's favorite +mount, The Piker. He gave voice to a mild but expressive swear-word. + +"Now what's to pay?" he muttered as he flung himself from the saddle and +bent over the outstretched figure half buried in the long grass. He +knelt. "Beechy!" he exclaimed incredulously. "How the dickens did +you----" The recumbent man lifted heavy lids. + +"_Comment ça_----" Returning consciousness cleared the haze from the +blue eyes. "Mr. Benson--you--did she find you--instead of----" his eyes +closed. + +"Beechy! Beechy! Rouse yourself. You must help me," Tommy pleaded. "Have +you seen Mrs. Courtlandt? She's--she's lost! Your Lieutenant can't find +his wife, Beechy!" + +"_Mon Lieutenant_," the blue eyes looked up at Benson dazedly. "What's +that you said, Mr. Benson? Lost his wife? You're wrong, you've got +another guess coming." With cautious effort he raised himself on his +elbow. "Prop me up, that's better. Don't worry about Mrs. Lieut. She's a +good little--sport. She must be getting near the X Y Z by now." His +voice was clearer, the color was coming back to his lips. + +"She's safe--unhurt?" + +"Sure, man--nothin' could happen to a woman like her--don't you know +that? She's ridin' like the devil to cut off----" in his excitement he +jerked himself erect; in the next moment he was a crumpled heap on the +ground. + +Tommy emptied the canteen he had tied to his saddle-horn, for the Lord +only knew what emergency, over the white face. His tense nerves relaxed. +Jerry had been all right when Beechy saw her last and that couldn't have +been so long ago. If she was at Greyson's she was safe--but--what the +dickens had she been doing all the afternoon, he wondered. Now that he +had her accounted for he must get Beechy under cover. With an anxious +glance at the threatening sky overhead he spoke to the man on the +ground. He was quite conscious again. He listened intelligently as Tommy +outlined his plan for getting him to Bear Creek ranch. He wasted no +strength on words but with Benson's help finally mounted The Piker. He +put his arms around the horse's neck and fell forward on his mane. +Benson steadied him with one hand. Side by side the two horses made +their way to the buildings now nothing but a blotch of darkness. + +Jim Carey dashed out of the corral as the two rode up. He was a tall, +good-looking man with black eyes which twitched nervously as he talked. + +"Is that you, Small? Where the devil----" he broke off in astonishment +as he saw the figure flung forward on The Piker's neck. + +"It's not Small, Carey. I'm Benson from the Double O," Tommy called from +out the gloom. "I picked up a man at the foot of the hill who was about +all in. He was Courtlandt's sergeant overseas. Help me get him down, +will you?" + +"We'll take him into Small's cabin. This way." + +The two men carried Beechy into the shack and laid him on a bed. Carey +lighted a lamp. He came back and looked down at the unconscious man as +he lay with his red hair roughly tousled and the bruise under his eye a +purplish red. + +"I'll get Mother Eagan. I--I suppose you know what's come?" Carey asked +with awkward pride. + +"I heard that the stork was playing a one-night stand in this county. Is +Mrs. Carey getting on all right?" Tommy asked as he busied himself +unfastening Beechy's clothes. "What is it, Carl?" he soothed as the +injured man struggled to one elbow, his eyes blazing with excitement. + +"Grab his horse--Mrs. Lieut., I'll get the range better next +time--Ranlett----" he dropped back on the pillow; the fever died down in +his eyes. He looked up into Benson's anxious face. "Don't mind what I +said," he pleaded weakly. "I was dreamin' but--but--I guess you'd better +ride after Mrs. Lieut., and be sure she's all right. Ranlett's +gang----" + +"Ranlett's gang!" both men bent over him. "What do you mean, Beechy?" +Benson asked tensely. + +"Bolster me up! That's right. That infernal pounding inside me's +quieting down." He drew a cautious breath and smiled wanly into the face +above him. "Did you see that? It came as easy as spendin' money. Who's +that? Where am I?" he demanded as he caught sight of Jim Carey and +looked around the room. + +"You are at Bear Creek ranch and this is Carey the owner." + +"Send him out, Mr. Benson. I've got something to say to you." + +"But Carey is----" + +"Send him out," Beechy reiterated weakly and closed his eyes as though +he were again slipping into a coma. + +"You'd better go, Jim. There's some deviltry afoot and Beechy knows what +it is. Send Mother Eagan down in ten minutes if she can be spared." + +Carey looked down at the motionless figure on the bed. + +"I wonder if he knows anything about Small," he whispered. "He left +early this morning and----" + +"You mean?" + +"The same," answered Carey enigmatically and left the cabin. The wind +banged the door after him. Benson could see Beechy wince. Then he was +conscious of what was going on about him. + +"He's gone, Carl," he whispered. + +Beechy's lips twisted in a smile as he opened his eyes, and eased +himself on his elbow. + +"I reckoned we'd shake him if I played 'possum. I'm feelin' better every +minute. Get a paper and pencil, Mr. Benson. I want you to take something +down for me. This bogus heart of mine is likely to pound on for years, +then again it may shut up shop any minute." + +"I'll do it, Beechy, but first, tell me about Mrs. Courtlandt. I must +know that she is safe." + +"She's safe, all right. She started for the X Y Z and Greyson. I kept my +brain steady till she got out of sight. She was ridin' her own horse. +I'm not deceiving you. I wouldn't have any harm come to her for her own +sake, let alone the Lieutenant's. Now you listen and put down what I +tell you, _sabe_?" + +Beechy told the story of his acquaintance with Ranlett, with frequent +pauses for rest and to get his breath. Someone on the border, he +wouldn't tell who, had sent him to the manager of the Double O. Outside +the wind rose steadily. It flung itself against the corners of the small +building, it shook the window frames as a terrier does a rat; the flame +in the lamp flickered and steadied. + +"Get me straight, Mr. Benson," Beechy concluded. "I ain't excusing +myself. I was dead wrong--but Ranlett caught me when I was bitter and +discouraged. He set out as how we were to pull off this hold-up on a +carful of gold belonging to some 1917-18 millionaires that had made +their money in munitions. Then this morning I got a hint 'twas +government money. I up an' had it out with Ranlett. I allowed I'd touch +nothin' belonging to the government. His eyes got like red-hot coals. +'You don't think for a minute you'll get away with turning goody-goody +after hearin' my plans, do you?' says he, his hand twitching. 'No, I +don't, Ranlett,' says I, 'but you want to remember that thievin's one +thing an' murder's another.' Then crack! It was like a shell burstin' +and I didn't know anythin' more till I looked up into what seemed two +shimmery gold stars--the Lieutenant's wife was holdin' me." + +"Who hit you? Ranlett?" + +"Not on your life! He ain't takin' no chances. He wasn't even figurin' +in the hold-up to-night; he is to direct operations from a dugout in the +rear. It was Carey's range-rider." + +"What!" + +"Somewhere he'd found out I was linked up with the Lieutenant. Now you +know why I wouldn't tell before----Who's coming?" + +The knock preceded the entrance of Mother Eagan. She fairly blew into +the room. Her round, shining face was red; she was panting from +exertion. The man on the bed straightened up, smoothed his hair, +adjusted the collar of his shirt and turned reckless, smiling blue eyes +upon his visitor. She was a woman, therefore to be impressed, +irrespective of age or size or charm. That was Beechy, Benson thought as +he watched him. He was a curious combination of characteristics. The +woman looked from one to the other. + +"Where's the man I was sent down to drag back to life?" she asked with a +good-natured chuckle. Her eyes lingered on Beechy. "Sure you don't look +sick to me." + +Benson slipped the paper he held into his pocket. + +"Make him lie down and keep quiet, Mother Eagan, and put something on +that bruise. I'll go on to the X Y Z now that you're being taken care +of, Beechy." + +"Righto. Mr. Greyson may need help in that little matter I was tellin' +you about. Mother Eagan, it sure is good to see you. You're the +handsomest white woman I've seen since I left the border--you----" + +Benson closed the cabin door behind him. Beechy was incorrigible, but +Mother Eagan was fool-proof. She'd laugh and volley back at him while +she made his poor, racked body comfortable. + +When Tommy reached the pack-trail which led toward the X Y Z he pulled +up his horse. He looked back at the buildings of the B C ranch, then +speculatively at the hill behind them. On the other side of that Beechy +had left Ranlett. Suppose, just suppose, that the late manager of the +Double O was not incapacitated to the extent his assailant thought? +Suppose that he should be able to make his getaway? To put the bandits +on their guard? Mrs. Steve was doubtless with Greyson by this time +planning to checkmate the bad men. Wasn't it up to him to make sure of +The Skunk? + +Without giving his bump of caution time to rouse from its habitual state +of coma, Tommy made for the hill. Lightning crackled the sky, the rain +came. + + "'It ain't no use to grumble and complain, + It's every bit as easy to rejoice + When the Lord sorts out the weather and sends rain, + Rain's my choice,'" + +he quoted with cheery philosophy as he pulled the broad brim of his hat +down and the collar of his shirt up. + +The spectral grove was a protection from wind and rain when he entered +it. He dismounted when he reached the pines on the crest of the hill +from which he could look down into Buzzard's Hollow. Fortunately he knew +every foot of the surrounding country. In the years he had been at the +Double O he had explored foot-hills and valleys, had fished in the +streams that crossed them. + +With flash-light in one hand and his forty-five in the other Benson +waited for the lightning. He must get his bearings. The storm rattled +and crashed among the mountains. It was deafening--but--what was that? +In the interval between crashes he had caught another sound. It was the +spasmodic roar and hum of a plane. It was a sinister sound in that place +at that hour. In a flash Tommy's mind reverted to the plane which had +passed over the stream on Sunday. Again he heard Courtlandt's curt +answer to his question, "Nothing, except that your information confirms +me in my suspicion that Marks and Schoeffleur signaled that pilot when +he went over." Was that the reason the two men had been missing this +morning when Gerrish rounded up the outfit to send them in search of the +runaway Shorthorns? + +Benson's hands were like ice as standing behind the bole of a giant +spruce he watched the progress of the aeroplane. The lightning flashed +steadily. Against the glare of the sky the great shape was silhouetted. +Almost instantly as though assured of his bearings, the pilot shut off +his motor and spiraled down toward the hollow. The machine lighted as +softly on the carpet of tumbleweed as might a fluff of thistle-down. It +made a smooth three-point landing. + +"That pilot's a veteran, none of the amateur's bump in his," Benson +muttered, at the same time subconsciously thanking the great god Thor +for his coöperation as he took advantage of a reverberating roll of +thunder to slide down the hillside. He went so amazingly fast that he +would have come up against the wall of the shack with a crash had he not +seized a shrub and stopped himself in time. Through the cracks between +the imperfectly matched boards that made the wall he could see light. On +hands and knees, his heart thumping as only that well-regulated organ +can thump in the breast of a brave man who realizes the risk he is +running, Tommy put his ear to a crack. He heard the sound of voices, his +nostrils were filled with the odor of cigarette smoke. He recognized +Ranlett's high pitched nasal tones. Evidently the pilot had brought a +passenger, for Benson could distinguish two other voices. The late +manager's was weak, as though with pain, but it held an ugly note. + +"That's better, Marks. That'll stop the bleeding. I was a fool to try to +follow that fellow Beechy. But--but I was mad to get at him. Bill Small +swore that he'd fixed him so that he wouldn't move again--I don't know +now whether he believed it or whether he was trying to double-cross me." + +"Nice fella, Beechy. We'd better be getting out of this; he may give the +alarm." Benson had never heard the voice before. It was thick and +guttural and evidently belonged to the pilot. Marks must have been the +passenger. + +"He can't. He's all in. He could hardly get up that hill. Bad heart. +Even if he told the girl----" + +"A girl in it! Good day! I'm through!" + +"Hold on, young feller! Don't get cold feet so easily. I--I don't know +where he met up with her--but--she can't get far. There is no telephone +at the B C and the lines connecting the X Y Z and the Double O with each +other and Slippy Bend are 'Out of order.'" There was a sardonic note in +his voice as he mimicked the stereotyped words. "We're safe, I tell you. +The boys will pull off that stunt and come winging back here laden with +silver bricks before any of that bunch can get anywhere. No one will +think of looking here for the loot; it's too near the centre of +sheriffville. We'll take what silver we can in the plane and the boys +can cache the rest till the excitement has died down. Simms will be +sound asleep in his bed at Upper Farm by the time the authorities get +round to him. He can ship us a silver brick in a tub of butter at his +discretion. I tell you, it's a cinch," he exulted a sound midway between +a chuckle and a groan. + +With a crash, as though the resident giant in a passion of rage had +knocked the rocky crowns of the mountains together, the storm spent +itself. In an incredibly short time the moon began to peer from between +scudding clouds. Benson crept slowly round the shack, his mind seething +with anger and resentment. Both ranches cut off! Where was Mrs. Steve? + +Moving when the moon was obscured, burrowing in the soaked tumbleweed +when it emerged from hiding, Benson made his way slowly and with +infinite caution to the aircraft. He crept round it till the plane, +which looked like nothing so much as a Brobdingnagian bird of prey, was +between him and the shack. He looked up at it. Suppose there were +someone in it! For an instant his heart obstructed his breathing. He +must know. He scratched one wing with his flash-light. To his taut +nerves it seemed as though the sound reverberated among the foot-hills. +Surely a person on guard would respond to that. + +Reassured by the silence within the machine, Benson groped along the +side of the plane until he located the pilot's seat. He climbed in. +Silently expeditiously, he did a few things to the steering gear and +wrecked the throttle. "You won't transport many silver bricks in this, +young feller," he muttered grimly. Knowledge of any kind was a valuable +commodity to have packed in one's kit-bag, he thought, as he cautiously +climbed down from the machine. Thanks to the few months spent in the +hangar of an aviation field in the spring of '17, he had known where and +how to administer body blows. + +By a circuitous route he reached the shack. With jaws set hard to keep +his lips from twitching with nervousness he peered through one of the +dirty windows. The light inside came from a candle stuck in a bottle +which stood on the range opposite the door. Its weird, wavering light +threw ghostly shadows on the walls. Someone was stretched out on the +bunk. A man with an aviator's helmet pushed back on his head sat on the +range, another sprawled on the floor. It was Ranlett on the bunk; Benson +recognized his voice as he replied to a question. + +"Ten o'clock. Better begin to watch out for the rockets soon. Remember, +two green lights if they have pulled it off and want us to wait; two red +lights if we are to beat it. Help me up. I'll get into the plane and +then we won't waste time making our getaway when they come." + +Benson stood rigid. Should he let them get out Of the shack or should he +cover them where they were? If they reached the aeroplane they would +immediately discover the damage and be on their guard. He must keep them +in the shack. Before the two airmen could help Ranlett to his feet he +fired a bullet through the window. It lodged in the wood over the bunk. + +"Stay where you are! Hands up!" he shouted in a gruff voice which +excitement hoarsened. "We have you covered from each window. The man who +moves gets his good and plenty. Gerrish, you cover the chap with the +helmet; O'Neil, make a target of Marks and I'll devote my entire +attention to the Skunk." + +Would his bluff work; would it? Tommy wondered frantically. It did. With +muttered imprecations the two men ranged themselves against the wall, +their hands above their heads. Ranlett sank back on the bunk. They +weren't taking chances. What should he do next, Benson wondered, with a +nervous desire to shout with laughter. He had placed himself so that +without moving he could see any signal which might come from the +direction of Devil's Hold-up. At imminent danger of becoming cross-eyed +for life, he kept one eye on the men and one on the sky above the +region where he knew the railroad to lie. At signs of restlessness in +his prisoners he stole to the other window. He fired a shot which had a +miraculous effect upon their sagging muscles. They stiffened. Benson +with difficulty repressed a chuckle. He had them dancing to the tune he +piped, all right. But what the dickens should he do if the bandits +successfully pulled off their raid on the treasure car? If he stayed +where he was he would be one against a dozen or more desperate men. If +he made a break for safety Ranlett and his choice aggregation of bad men +would escape with their plunder. If--what was that? A green light! Then +Mrs. Steve had not reached Greyson. Another emerald star shot into the +sky. + +"Two green lights if they have pulled it off and want us to wait!" That +was what Ranlett had said. Some fugitive lines flicked tantalizingly on +the screen of Tommy's memory, then steadied: + + "But to every man there openeth + A high way and a low, + And every man decideth + The way his soul shall go." + +That settled it. He'd hold his prisoners and take his chance. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +She had been right in her suspicions of the Man of Mystery, Jerry +thought, as she put spurs to her horse. The words Beechy had called +after her echoed in her mind. "Tell Greyson if he gets a chance--to put +a bullet through the man--Ranlett took on in--my place--that range-rider +at Bear-Creek ranch." It was growing dark. Heavy clouds had rolled up. +She had some difficulty in forcing Patches from the old pack-trail which +eventually led to home and supper. She cut across fields, splashed +through the stream, then headed for the X Y Z ranch-house whose lights +seemed like will-o'-the-wisps. The longer she rode the more they +receded. + +She determined not to worry about Beechy. He had promised that he would +try to get to the Double O and she knew that he would win out. The +unexpected would happen to help him, as nine out of ten times it did +when one was in dire straights. With the thought came a vision of her +father; she could see his massive head, his shrewd eyes, hear his deep +voice saying: + +"I have a firm conviction, that a person can through any worthy thing on +which he is determined; how else do you account for the seeming miracles +of heroism men got away with in the World War? The test is, how much do +you want it? I've gone on that principle all my life and it's worked, I +tell you, it's worked." + +It was curious how that memory of her father vitalized her. Jerry +straightened in the saddle. She felt as though she had been warmed, fed, +had had the elixir of courage poured through her veins. Beechy would +come through. All she need think of was her part. + +It was quite dark when she reached the X Y Z. The air stirred in hot +gusts; from far off came the rumble of thunder. Patches was matted with +sweat and dust. Ito, the Jap, opened the door in response to her knock. +From behind him came the sound of voices, the tinkle of silver, the +ripple of a woman's laugh. Felice Denbigh! Jerry had forgotten her. For +an instant she visualized the gold hair, the gold eyes with their +tigerish spots, the alluring chiffoned daintiness of the woman. With a +shrug she looked down at her own torn, dusty riding clothes. She would +hate to meet the ultra fashionable Mrs. Denbigh now. Felice must not +know that she had come; she might ruin everything. Jerry had an +intuition that she would stop at nothing to humiliate the girl Steve had +married. She caught the astonished Ito by the lapels of his coat and +drew him into the shadow. + +"It is Mrs. Courtlandt, Ito. I must see Mr. Greyson. Don't tell him who +it is, though. Say--say that--that the ranch boss wants to see him." + +The Jap's yellow mask of a face did not for a moment lose its +imperturbability. + +"All lie will I tell him, honorable lady. Keep in dark when I door make +open." + +Jerry sank to a bench among the vines; weary Patches sagged in the +shadows. For an instant it seemed as though life drained out of her, as +though she were being swept along the tide of indifference to +unconsciousness. For the first time she realized that she had had but +two hours' sleep in almost forty-eight hours. She forced herself erect. +She pulled off her hat which she had crushed down over her forehead when +she started on her wild ride to the X Y Z. It was a relief to get it +off. She could think better. She dropped it to the bench beside her. A +ray of light from somewhere set the gold in the cord glinting. Where was +the owner of that hat, she wondered. Had Steve gone into the mountains? +Would Tommy and Peg be anxious when she did not appear for dinner? She +did not dare 'phone them for fear that in some way Ranlett might get a +clue to her errand. She started forward as the door opened and closed +and Greyson's voice demanded sharply: + +"What's to pay, McGregor?" + +"It isn't McGregor, it's Jerry Courtlandt," the girl whispered. "Shs-s! +Take me somewhere we can talk and not be overheard." + +He led her to a clump of trees near the entrance to the drive; her horse +followed with his head close to the girl's shoulder. The branches swayed +in the wind. Even in the dusk she could see the eddies of dust in the +road. The atmosphere seemed electrically alive. Jerry shivered and +seized a fold of Greyson's sleeve. + +"I--I just want to make sure you're really here--it's so--so dark I can +hardly see you," she apologized shakily. His hand closed over hers. His +voice was tense as he demanded: + +"What has happened, Jerry? What has brought you to me like this?" For +the first time she was conscious of the absurdity of her costume, of her +delicate, torn blouse with its bandana addition, her linen breeches and +riding boots. She flung the thought of her appearance from her mind and +plunged into explanation. Greyson questioned when she had finished: + +"Are you sure? How did Beechy know?" + +Jerry's eyes widened. + +"I never thought to ask," she confessed. "I just believed what he told +me and I know, I know that he was telling the truth. What shall we do? +We must hurry--hurry----" For what seemed an eternity of time to her +Bruce Greyson was silent. The wind rose and whistled and whined. Jerry +was quivering with impatience when he spoke. + +"The train must be flagged before it reaches the X Y Z. I'll run the +flivver to the crossing and try to get down the track. It's a mad scheme +but it's the only chance. We couldn't get to the station at Slippy Bend +in time if we tried. I'll take one of the men to wave a lantern----" + +"You'll take me," interrupted Jerry breathlessly. The amazing audacity +of the plan thrilled her with its possibilities. "We mustn't take a +chance with a third party. Beechy warned me that Ranlett had +sympathizers everywhere. We can't trust one of the men." + +"But there is a tremendous storm rising. What if Steve----" + +"Steve may not be at home to-night; what he doesn't know won't trouble +him. Tommy and Peg will have to worry. Individuals must be sacrificed to +the good of the government, or words to that effect." Her spirits were +mounting now that she had secured an ally. "Felice must not know that I +am here." + +"I'll have Ito make my apologies to Mrs. Denbigh. He can tell her that I +have been called away suddenly. He can also tel--slip down to the front +gate and wait for me. I'll take your horse to the corral. If the men +notice him at all, they win think merely that you have taken refuge from +the storm." + +Crouched against the shrubs near the gate the girl waited. A lurid flash +in the heavens gave an instant's glimpse of the ranch-house, the white +fences of the corral. Then came the crash of thunder and utter darkness. +There was a sound as of a fusillade of bullets on the hard road. "Here +comes the rain!" Jerry murmured. The words were drowned in a sudden +hissing downpour. She peered at the illuminated dial of her watch. Nine +o'clock! In just one hour the train was due at Devil's Hold-up. Could +they stop it? She listened. Was that the sound of wheels? Yes. Greyson +was coasting the machine down the slight incline toward her; there was +no sound of the engine. While it was still in motion she sprang to the +running-board, took her seat and closed the door softly. Not a moment +had been lost. For the first time she felt the rain beating on her bare +head; it stung her shoulders through her thin blouse. The top of the car +had been thrown back. She put her hand up. Her hat! Where was it? Then +she remembered that she had flung it on the bench beside Greyson's +front door. "Being hatless is the least of my troubles," she thought +buoyantly as she peered forward into the darkness. At the foot of the +incline Greyson bent to the lever. + +"Now we're off," he whispered. "There is a lantern at your feet. Light +that." + +On her knees in the bottom of the car Jerry struggled with the lantern. +The flivver bounced and swerved as the driver tried to force the engine +belonging to the hundreds class to speed achieved only by the thousands. +After using a profusion of matches, and--anathemas when she burned her +fingers, Jerry lighted the lantern. She gave a long sigh of relief as +she slipped back into her seat. + +"It's done! The bottom of the car looks as though there had been a +massacre of matches, just as the floor round Steve's chair looks when he +is smoking his pipe, but what are a few matches at a time like this? +What can I do next?" + +"Jerry, you amazing girl! Nothing--nothing seems hard or impossible when +you have a share in it," Greyson burst out impetuously. He steadied his +voice and directed, "When we come to the gate get out and open it. I'll +run through to the crossing. Be sure that you fasten the gate securely +behind you. No sane person will think of our getting down the track this +way. No sane person would think of attempting it," he added under his +breath. + +Once through the gate Greyson cautiously steered the car off the +crossing on to the track which paralleled that on which the west-bound +train would come. He manipulated the motor until the left-hand wheels of +the car hugged the inside of one rail and the right-hand wheels were in +the road-bed. He waited for flashes of lightning to show him the way. +They came almost incessantly. The thunder crashed and rumbled as though +the gods of the mountains were playfully pitching TNT shells for +exercise. + +"This is going to be one little stunt," the man confided to the girl as +she took her seat beside him. "Keep the lantern in your hand. When I say +'Ready' stand up on the seat and wave like mad. Now we're off, and may +the gods be good to us!" + +It wasn't a heathen god whom Jerry Courtlandt importuned. She never +looked back upon that wild ride without a renewed thanksgiving that the +prayer in her heart had been answered, without a reminiscent ache in +every bone of her body, without seeing a close-up of Greyson, +tense-jawed and wrinkle-browed bent over the wheel. He drove with his +eyes intent on the tracks which seemed glistening streaks of fire when +the lightning flashed. The swift transitions from dazzling light to inky +darkness blinded her. It would always remain one of the inexplicable +miracles to the girl that the flivver did not capsize. She felt no fear +at the time. Only when from behind them came the sound as of a hundred +furies let loose did she shudder. + +"Is--is that a pack of wolves?" she whispered hoarsely. + +"Coyotes. Two can make as much noise as a dozen of anything else. Hear +that? Begin to wave! Ready!" + +Jerry scrambled to the seat. She lost her balance as the car careened +tipsily. She clutched Greyson's hair with a violence which wrung a +stifled "Ouch!" from the victim. + +"I'm sorry. My mistake! I wasn't trained as a bareback rider," the girl +apologized with an hysterical ripple of laughter. + +"Wave! Wave!" Greyson shouted above the din of the storm. + +The girl waved her lantern in curving sweeps. At first she could hear +nothing, see nothing, then above the noise of their own wheels she heard +a rumble which quickly increased to a roar. Then came a light and behind +it a creature which might have belonged to the ancient order of +Compsognatha, so long was it, so sinuous, so sinister. It was the train. +Jerry waved frantically. Surely, surely the engineer must see her light. +She caught her breath and held it as the roar grew deafening and the +monster came leaping, writhing, pounding on. + +"They see us! They see us!" she shouted, and laughed exultantly all the +while waving the lantern madly. The whistle of the oncoming engine blew +a frenzied warning. Greyson turned his wheel way over. The flivver +literally jumped the rails and ran along a siding which joined the main +track. The girl slid into her seat limp with exhaustion. With groaning +and grinding of brakes and clanking of wheels the long train trembled to +a stop. Which one of the cars carried the treasure, Jerry wondered, just +as a rough Irish voice thundered in her ear: + +"For the love of Mike! What we got here? Escaped lunatics, or I miss my +guess." The light of a lantern was flashed in the faces of the occupants +of the car. The man who held it swore with an ease and facility which +took Jerry's breath. "It's a man and a woman, crazy as coots," he called +to someone behind him. Then in a magisterial tone, "It's a hunch we got +the new division superintendent aboard this trip. He can see for himself +what held us up; he'd never believe it if I told him. Now what'd you +flag this train for?" demanded the violator of the second Commandment, +truculently. A group of men had gathered round him. + +Greyson stepped from the flivver and drew Jerry after him. What would +he say, she wondered anxiously. Their errand must not be suspected. They +must get aboard the train and interview the division superintendent. A +sudden mad thought suggested itself. Without an instant's hesitation +Jerry slipped her arm under Greyson's, rested her head against his +sleeve and smiled audaciously into the broad, weather-beaten face +glowering at her. + +"Don't scold, Mr. Brakeman. It was reckless, but--but--you see, we just +had to flag this train. We--we want to get to the coast. +We're--we're--eloping." + +"Good God!" + +Greyson's inarticulate protest was submerged in the hoarse ejaculation. +Jerry wheeled. Behind her stood Stephen Courtlandt. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +It seemed to Steve as he looked at the girl, with her hair, which wind +and rain had lashed into clinging tendrils of glinting bronze, pressed +close against Greyson's arm, that his universe tore itself from its +orbit and hurtled into fathomless space. For thirty throbbing seconds +the blue eyes challenged the brown, then he turned away. + +"Courtlandt!" called Greyson dominantly, but Steve was speaking to the +division superintendent who, white with anxiety, had hurried up. + +"Sure they'll have to go along with us, Steve," reassured the autocrat +of the train. He turned to Greyson. "We'll take you to the coast, all +right, but you won't get off the train till you've paid a good fat fine +for stopping it. You and the lady get aboard, pronto. Steve, lock her up +in one of the compartments. I'll look after the man. Mac, if anything +else tries to hold us up you shoot and shoot quick, no matter if there +are skirts mixed up in it." He rushed off in company with the burly +brakeman. Greyson caught Courtlandt's arm. + +"Look here, Steve, you must listen. Jerry----" + +"You needn't apologize for my--my wife, Greyson. She's coming with me." +He put his hands none too gently on the girl's shoulder. + +"But, Steve, you don't understand," Jerry protested. "I----" + +"All aboard there!" yelled the brakeman angrily. Steve fairly lifted the +girl to the platform of the Pullman. He hurried her along the corridor +to a compartment. + +"Come in here, Jerry, and no matter what you hear don't come out. I'll +send the maid to help you get your clothing dry." He turned to go, but +she laid her hand on his arm. + +"Steve, you must listen to me. I want to tell you----" + +"What can you tell me except that you love Greyson and ran away with +him? I can't hear that now--I won't. You're mine and I keep what is my +own. And remember this, if you try to communicate with him while you are +on this train--I'll shoot him." His eyes were black; there was a white +line about his nostrils. + +"Steve, you're all wrong,--but if you won't trust me----" she shrugged +the remainder of the sentence. Then her voice was pleading. "Did +Bruce--Mr. Greyson,--get a chance to speak to the division +superintendent?" + +"Did he? I'll say he did. What Nelson isn't saying to your--your gallant +friend at this minute, isn't worth saying." He looked at her +suspiciously as she laughed. He took a step nearer. + +"No, I shan't have hysterics, Stevie. Now that I know that my gallant +friend, as you call him, is explaining our late plan to the division +superintendent, I haven't a care in the world,--in fact," with a dainty, +politely repressed yawn, "if I could have this place and the maid to +myself, I might take a nap. I shall have plenty of time. It is a long +way to the coast," with another irrepressible ripple of laughter. Then +as he lingered, "You needn't stand guard. I shan't run away again. An +encore lacks the snap of a first performance," audaciously. + +Courtlandt opened his lips to reply, thought better of it, closed the +door smartly behind him and went in search of the maid. Back in the +compartment which the division superintendent used as an office he +lighted his pipe, and paced the floor back and forth, back and forth as +he tried to marshall order from the chaos of his thoughts. Why didn't +the fool train start, he wondered, as he listened to what seemed an +endless amount of backing and starting and grinding of brakes. + +His mind went back to the moment in Lower Field when Johnny Simms had +handed him a letter and bolted. He could see every word on the +tear-blotted page now: + + "Ranlett doesn't want the cattle. He cut the fences so that the + Double O outfit would follow the Shorthorns into the mountains. + He and his bunch are figurin' to rob the west-bound to-night at + Devil's Hold-up. Government silver. Watch out! Ranlett has + spies everywhere." + +There had been no signature, no mention of Simms, but Courtlandt felt +sure that he was in on the deal and that the wife was trying to keep her +husband from being caught in what might easily prove to be more than +robbery. His first reaction from the message had been amused +incredulity. It was absurd to believe that in these enlightened days a +man of Ranlett's intelligence, and he was infernally intelligent, would +try to get away with such a mid-eighties stunt. The sense of amusement +was succeeded by startled conviction. The fact was that Ranlett did +think he could put it across and was to make the attempt that night. He +must hustle through his work and make Slippy Bend in time to board the +train. He could neither wire nor 'phone if it were true that Ranlett had +spies everywhere. He must keep his own counsel until he could talk with +the official in charge of the west-bound. + +After that he had followed trails and conferred with ranch section +heads. As clouds began to spread out from the southwest he galloped +into Slippy Bend. He had supper in a leisurely fashion at the one +hotel, dropped into the post-office for a chat with Sandy, who was +sorting his mail for the morrow's trip, and discussed crops and stock +and tractors with the group of men gathered there. He had reached the +railroad station about ten minutes before the treasure train was due. He +hailed the railroad man-of-all-work whose slouch relegated him +unquestionably to the preëfficiency era. + +"West-bound on time? I'm going up the line to follow some steers that +have mysteriously wandered off. I'm not looking for trouble, but----" He +tapped the holster which hung from his belt. Baldy Jennings, whose head +resembled a shiny white island entirely surrounded by a fringe of red +hair, chewed and spat with intriguing accuracy as he listened. Steve's +explanation had precipitated a flow of observation. + +"Shucks! The world's sick. Most of it don't want to work and them that +does won't be let by them that don't. The majority seem to figur' that +it's a darned sight easier to pick the other man's pocket than to fill +their own by honest sweatin' labor. Sure, it never wa'n't none of my +butt-in, but I used to tell old man Fairfax that Ranlett was narrer +between the horns. Oh, you don't hev to mention no names, I know who +took them steers,--but cripes, it didn't do no good, he wouldn't listen +to Baldy Jennings. And now the coyote's knifed you! An' your old man +givin' him every chanct. Human natur'! Human natur'! Well, I gotta get +busy. The railroad don't pay me sixty bucks per fer swappin' talk even +with the owner of the Double O. Here comes the west-bound." A shrill +whistle echoed back and forth among the hills like a shuttlecock. The +vibration of the rails announced the coming train. + +Courtlandt's pipe went out, he stopped his restless pacing of the narrow +compartment as he visualized the first person who had stepped from the +train. It had been Nelson who had been a captain in the battalion in +which Steve had served overseas. His face, which had been white and +tense when he reached the platform, had suffused with color as he +recognized Courtlandt. + +"Well, you can knock me for a gool, if it isn't the Whistling Lieut.!" +he cried eagerly. "What are you doing in this teeming mart of trade?" he +added, as he glanced at Baldy Jennings staring open-mouthed at the +meeting and beyond him to the few coatless, vested, bearded favorite +sons who leaned against the sagging building. + +Courtlandt had laughed. When the fog of surprise had lifted he had seen +that the years had not changed Nelson. His black eyes were as keen as +ever, his little mustache had the same moth-eaten effect, the network +of veins on his slightly bulbous nose were redder perhaps, and he was in +civilian clothes. That realization wrinkled Steve's brow in perplexity. + +"What are you doing here? Last I heard you had joined the regular army +and were stationed somewhere around Phila----" Perception of the +situation came in a blinding flash. Nelson's eyes met his steadily. + +"There are some occasions when a soldier appears in mufti. Especially +when he is passing as the newly appointed division superintendent of a +railroad." Steve drew a breath. So that was it. His eyes traveled over +the train. Which was the treasure car? Obviously the one in the middle +which looked like an ordinary baggage-car. The rest were brilliantly +lighted coaches, from the windows of which eyes peered out curiously, +indifferently or interestedly as the temperaments and minds behind them +dictated. His glance came back to Nelson. + +"You're the man I'm looking for. I've lost some cattle, and I'm going up +the line a way to look for them. I must give you all particulars. I'm +counting on you to help me, if there should happen to be any rough stuff +pulled off, see?" + +The two men had stood apart from the confusion of the station. The rain +beat down. Over among the mountains thunder and lightning held high +carnival. Courtlandt drew Nelson into the lee of the building. He struck +a match and held it above his pipe till the wood burned down to his +fingers. In the flickering light he and the superintendent, pro tem., +had regarded one another steadily. Nelson moistened his lips: + +"Sure, I see, Steve. Glad to have you along." He raised his voice as one +of the train hands approached. "Make yourself comfortable in my +quarters. Perhaps I can find a couple to make up a little game." + +Courtlandt was quite unconscious of the rumble of the train as in +imagination he relived the time he had spent waiting for Nelson to join +him in the double compartment which had been fitted up as an office for +the superintendent. Minutes seemed hours. When he did come the smile had +left his lips. His eyes were stern. He closed the door with a bang. + +"Deal out what's coming, quick!" he had commanded and Steve had told him +almost word for word what Mrs. Simms had written. "You're sure of this?" + +"I've given the message as it came to me. The person who sent the +warning had every reason to keep mum." + +"I get you." Nelson pulled down a map which was rolled against the side +of the car. He studied the maze of lines and dots and dashes. "Going +along with us?" he had asked casually. + +"The surest thing you know." Steve remembered how absurdly light-hearted +he had felt. Nelson looked so thoroughly equal to his job. + +"Then you'd better--now what the devil is _that_?" he growled as the +engine blew a furious warning and the brakes ground on with a suddenness +which threw both men against the desk. "We can't have reached Devil's +Hold-up yet." + +And then--Courtlandt's crowding thoughts had reached the moment when he +had heard a girl's voice say: + +"Don't scold, Mr. Brakeman. It was reckless--but--but, you see, we had +to flag this train--we--we want to go to the coast. We're--we're +eloping!" + +Jerry and Greyson! And he would have staked his life that she was true +blue, that even if she felt that she could never love the man she had +married she would have trampled temptation. The intolerable ache in +Steve's heart maddened him. She should not carry out this mad plan. He +wouldn't let her go if she hated him eternally. He'd make her love him, +love him as he had loved her from the moment he had looked up to see her +enter the living-room of Glamorgan's apartment. He had been so +infernally proud that he had tortured himself by pretending indifference +and now he had been brutal. He should have let her explain--he'd go now +and listen to what she had to say. God help him to act the man no matter +what it was. He would be tender, he would be sympathetic--but--he'd +never give her up. + +Nelson entered and closed the door softly behind him. His face was +white, there were tiny flecks of foam on his lips, his eyes blazed. + +"In five minutes we'll slow down to a crawl before entering Devil's +Hold-up. The bandits counted on that. I'll go forward to the cab. Trail +along after me. Leave your holster here. The passengers mustn't get the +idea that we're packing guns; get me?" + +"I get you. Where is Gr--where is the man who flagged the train?" + +Nelson turned with his hand on the door-knob. + +"In the car back locked into a compartment with an armed guard before +it. He wanted to talk but I wasn't taking chances with any middle-aged +Lochinvar until after we'd passed the Hold-up. Got the woman in the case +locked up, haven't you?" + +"Yes, she----" Courtlandt cut off the explanation he was about to offer. +Why enlighten Nelson? If he could keep Jerry's name out of the mix-up, +so much the better. Greyson wouldn't be likely to talk. + +"All right, see that she doesn't break loose. A girl who would flivver +along a railroad track would have to be roped and tied to keep her out +of a wild party like this or I miss my guess." + +Steve looked unseeingly at the door as it closed behind Nelson. He was +right; it would be like Jerry to get into the mix-up. He would stop at +her compartment as he went forward and make sure that she was there. He +unfastened the holster from his belt and flung it to the desk. With a +slight bulge in the region of the hip pocket of his riding breeches he +left the office. At the door of the compartment in which he had left +Jerry he knocked. + +There was no answer. He tapped again and listened. There was no sound +inside save the creaking of woodwork and springs as the car swayed with +the grinding of wheels. Courtlandt whitened. Could she have left her +room? With quick impatience he opened the door and stepped inside. In +his surprise he slammed it behind him. Jerry, rolled in a blanket, lay +in the bunk asleep. + +Even the noise he had made did not rouse her. Evidently the maid had +taken her clothing to dry it, for she was blanketed like a mummy from +her feet to her dimpled chin. Courtlandt crossed the narrow space +between them and looked down upon her. Her hair was spread over the +pillow to dry, her dark lashes lay like fringes, the one cheek visible +had a long red scratch, a bare foot hung over the edge of the bunk. Her +sleep was so profound that she barely breathed. + +Why was she so exhausted, Steve wondered anxiously. In a flash he +remembered. She had been up all the night before with Mrs. Carey. Was it +only last night that he had taken her to the B C ranch? It seemed weeks +ago. No wonder that she was tired; she couldn't have had much sleep in +the last forty-eight hours. What did the bruise mean? He leaned over her +and touched it lightly. It was not a recent scratch. Very gently he +raised the pink foot which swayed with every motion of the car and +covered it with the blanket. He looked down upon the girl for a moment. +With jaw set and the veins in his temples standing out like cords he +went out and closed the door behind him. + +The train barely crawled as Courtlandt swung from the step of the coach +to the ground. His eyes were strained; there was a white line about his +lips as he pulled himself up into the gangway between tender and engine. +The storm had rolled east-ward. Above the distant mountains a broad and +yellow moon played at hide-and-seek with fleecy remnants of cloud. Stars +appeared dimly, reconnoitered for a moment, then shone with steady +brilliancy. Nelson, seated on a tool-box in the cab, rolled a cigarette +with slightly unsteady fingers. The engineer had his head out of the +window; his assistant was tinkering a bit of balky machinery. Nelson +looked up as Courtlandt appeared. + +"Did you come out to see the wheels go round Steve? I'd rather ride here +than anywhere else myself. What the devil! What's to pay now, Hawks?" as +the engineer ground on the brakes. + +"Boulder on the track," rumbled the sooty man. He turned white under the +soot as his eyes crossed in a futile endeavor to look along the shiny +blue nose of an automatic in the hand of his grimy assistant. + +"Hands up, all of you! Come over here, Hawks. You gentlemen can talk to +me while my friends give the train the once-over." + +"Well, I'll be----" + +"You sure will if you talk," growled the grimy one, looking like a +popular conception of his satanic majesty sans horns. Courtlandt and +Nelson who had been caught completely off guard by this attack from +within, stood with upraised arms. "Now, what t'ell!" The gun swayed for +the fraction of a second as a figure slid down over the coal in the +tender and landed in a crumpled heap in the gangway. Courtlandt seized +the opportunity. By the aboriginal expedient of kicking his victim +smartly in the shin he surprised the grimy one into a howl of pain. +Instinctively one hand reached for the aching member. Steve seized the +revolver. + +"You're some gunman," he jeered. "Go back into that corner and sit +down!" And Satan's understudy, shorn of all of his gun and two-thirds of +his bravado--went. "Hawks, tie his feet and hands. Here's his gun. +Nelson, I can manage if you want to give orders elsewhere. What have we +here?" + +The man who had fallen from the tender had struggled to his feet. He +braced himself against the side of the cab. His hair was matted down +over his eyes, his khaki shirt was in strips, his breeches and riding +boots were caked with mud; evidently he had been a rider before he +turned bandit, Courtlandt thought as he covered him with his forty-five. +Hawks was standing guard with his prisoner's own automatic. Fate has a +keen sense of comedy. + +"What's your business?" Steve demanded. The man made an evident effort +to rally his senses. His voice was low and broken as he answered: + +"There are twenty men in the gap--waiting for this train--the +silver--bricks. Here--here are the names----" He fumbled in his shirt. +Steve watched him with wary eyes, his finger on the trigger of his gun. +The trussed man in the corner swore volubly. The engineer silenced him +with the toe of his boot. Courtlandt took a step nearer the gasping, +groping man. The light was dim, if he were tricking him--but he wasn't. +With painful effort he produced a paper. His right arm hung helpless. A +red spot the size of a nickel appeared on the breast of his shirt. "Here +it is. I--I played into Ranlett's hands with the steers--Steve." He +collapsed in a heap on the floor. + +"Steve!" + +Courtlandt was on his knees beside him echoing his name. He slipped his +arm under the bent head. The man looked up with a laugh that died in a +painful rattle in his throat. + +"You didn't know me, Steve?" + +"Denbigh!" + +"Don't take it so hard, this--this scratch isn't anything. I--I swore +I'd square myself with the world and--and my conscience. I've been +playing my cards for this grand slam for weeks. Somehow Ranlett got wind +that the silver--was to--be shipped sometime this month. When I found +that Beechy was your man I dropped him a hint as to the ownership of the +treasure he was after--then--then--I took care of him for Ranlett--see? +You'll find him stunned but unhurt in the shack in Buzzard's Hollow. +No--don't interrupt--let me talk while I can--they'll be here in a +minute. To-night they must have been watching me. When I tried to slip +away Simms fired. I--I rolled over the cliff--they must have thought +that finished me--it did--almost--but I was determined to get here. Keep +those names--I--hope--I've saved the government's money." + +His head fell back on Courtlandt's shoulder, his eyes closed for a +moment. Then with, almost superhuman effort he rallied: + +"I can't drift off yet. Two green rockets--in my shirt. As--soon as +you've caught the gang--send those up. They'll keep Ranlett and--and the +others in the Hollow till--you get there. They mean that--that----" +Courtlandt had to put his ear close to Denbigh's lips to hear the last +words. He laid him down and reached into his shirt for the rockets. +Nelson appeared. + +"Leave him, Steve, I need you. I've sent a gang out to move the boulder. +We'll let the bad men think they've fooled us. Half the passengers on +this train are regulars in mufti. Little ol' Uncle Sam isn't taking +chances when he ships silver bricks to the coast. Here they come! Look!" +in a hoarse, excited whisper. + +Out from between crevices and behind cottonwoods stole sinister shadows. +The men trying to remove the boulder from the track worked steadily. +The night was so still after the storm that Steve could hear their hard +breathing, their gruff commands and the clink of metal against rock as +they attacked the granite. The man in the corner opened his lips to +shout a warning but Hawks stuffed his mouth full of oily waste before he +could utter a sound. Nelson oozed delighted anticipation. + +"Good Lord, man!" Steve exploded, "you haven't crossed the bridge yet. +Those men are after the government's money and they're going to put up a +stiff fight for it." + +"So they are, so they are, little ol' Steve, but they won't get it. We +dropped the treasure car, the last lighted Pullman with the silver +bricks in it, off on the siding where those crazy elopers flagged us. +Your Uncle Dudley wasn't taking any chances." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +"After all, it has been absurdly like the fake attack and repulse of +bandits in a musical comedy, except--except for Phil," Courtlandt +thought two hours later. "And here's where the female portion of the +audience would adjust hats and grope under the seats for missing +articles," he added, as from the platform of the train he watched a +splotch of darkness move slowly up the main street of Slippy Bend, en +route for the jail. The act had lacked none of the usual colorful stage +setting. There had been a starry heaven overhead, the dim outlines of +the rocky gap for a back-drop, clumps of cottonwoods and aspens for side +wings and for the crowning touch, two green rockets had sped skyward. + +The attacking party had boarded the train with just the right amount of +theatrical bravado, but something went wrong. Someone must have +hopelessly mixed the cues, for instead of towering over their shrinking +victims the bandits had found themselves staring dumbly along the +snub-noses of Colts in the trigger-quick hands of veterans. Denbigh's +list had been checked off and, save for Ranlett and Marks, every man +named on it was now being personally conducted up the silent street. + +Phil had made good, gloriously good, Courtlandt exulted as he made his +way to the baggage-car where Denbigh lay on the floor, his eyes closed, +his face flushed with fever. Steve knelt beside him, and laid a cool +hand on his forehead, but the wounded man did not move. Nelson climbed +into the car. + +"They've brought the stretcher, Steve. I'll attend to moving him while +you get the girl off the train. I've sent for a doctor." + +With his pulses hammering Courtlandt knocked at the door of the +compartment in which he had left Jerry asleep. There was no answer. Had +she gone? He knocked again, this time with a peremptoriness augmented by +the fear in his heart. + +"Come in!" a cool voice answered. + +Steve entered the compartment. From across the small room Jerry, dressed +as she had been when she flagged the train, contemplated him with +unfriendly eyes. Her blouse and linen breeches showed stains of mud and +weather but they had been mended and pressed. Her boots, with the big +rowels still attached, had been cleaned. Her hair, brushed till it shone +like satin, had been coiled in place; even the scratch on her cheek had +been reduced in color if not in length. Her lips were disdainful, her +face curiously colorless as she challenged: + +"Well!" + +"We are back at Slippy Bend. We must leave the train at once. There has +been----" + +"I know. The maid told me of the hold-up and that--that someone was +hurt. I feared--I feared"--even her lips whitened--"I--I've been so +anxious----" She caught her breath in a strangled sob. "She said that it +wasn't one of the train-hands or--or--a soldier, and I--I thought----" + +"Don't worry, it wasn't Greyson," Courtlandt cut in brusquely; his eyes +flamed a warning. "It--it was Phil Denbigh." + +"Phil Denbigh! You don't mean the man Felice married?" + +"Yes--alias Bill Small, the range-rider at the B C." + +"And he--a man like that--was one of the gang?" + +"No, no! Phil was in it to get information, to give warning. He is +entitled to an honorable discharge from his conscience now. His +testimony will rid this part of the country of about twenty +undesirables, the missing Marks and Schoeffleur among them." + +She looked up in dumb incredulity for a moment, then she laughed. + +"So--o, the treasure would have been saved anyway without--without----" +There was another irrepressible ripple of mirth before she asked, "Has +Bruce--has--Mr. Greyson been told?" + +Her laughter, her reference to Greyson snapped Courtlandt's +self-control, which was already strained to the limit of endurance. Even +his lips were white as he caught her by the shoulders. + +"I don't know what Greyson has been told, but he'll get it straight from +me that you are mine--mine----" With sudden savage ruthlessness he +caught her in his arms and kissed her shining hair, her throat, her +eyes. He let her go. "Now perhaps _you_ understand it too," he announced +huskily. + +Jerry shrank as far away from him as the narrow space would allow. The +color burned in her cheeks, her eyes blazed. + +"You--you have no right to--to do that!" she reminded breathlessly. + +"Haven't I?" + +"Don't stand there looking like a lion ready to spring. I--I won't have +it! You promised----" + +"That is humorous. When you ran away with Greyson were you keeping your +promise? At least, you'll acquit me of making love to--another woman. +I----" The door was thrown open violently and Nelson shouted: + +"Get that girl off quick, Steve! We leave in five minutes." The last +words died in the distance as he hurried along the corridor. + +"Come!" Courtlandt commanded, and with a curious look up into his eyes +Jerry preceded him from the compartment. As she stepped from the train +she fell almost into her sister's arms. + +"Peggy!" she gasped in astonishment. + +"Where the dickens did you drop from, Peg-o'-my-heart? Why are you at +Slippy Bend at this unholy hour?" Steve demanded peremptorily. + +"Ye gods! Don't ask me why! For information apply to Ito. I only know +that while I was walking the floor at the Double O, wild with anxiety, +that Jap tragedian appeared and announced that he must see the excellent +Mr. Benson. When I succeeded in convincing him that I couldn't produce +the excellent Mr. Benson, he explained that he must take me to Slippy +Bend to meet Mrs. Courtlandt, by order of his honorable master." + +"His master!" Jerry and Courtlandt echoed in unison. + +"That was what he said. He did deign to explain that he had been told to +telephone, but that as all lines were out of order he came himself to +give the message to Mr. Benson. When he found that Tommy wasn't there he +insisted upon bringing me to Slippy Bend himself." + +"Where is Tommy?" + +"Don't snap, Steve. I don't know. I'm one little walking encyclopedia of +ignorance to-night," with a sob which she valiantly tried to strangle at +its birth. "Jerry, where have you been? That Chinese woman of yours met +Tommy and me when we returned from our ride with some incoherent stuff +about your having gone off with a gun. That sent Tommy in a mad rush +after you. All I could get out of the Oriental while I was waiting was, +'Missee tlell Ming Soy when she see little Missee and Mr. Tommee Blenson +she bleat glong.' If I hadn't locked her into the pantry she'd be +beating it yet." She snuggled her arm under her sister's as she asked +again, "Where have you been, Jerry?" + +"I'll tell you all about it, honey, while we are riding home; that is, +if we are going home." With tantalizing daring she looked up at Steve +and asked with exaggerated humility, "Am I to be permitted to return to +the Double O in the care of Bruce--of Mr. Greyson's man, Mr. +Courtlandt?" + +He flushed darkly, but without answering led the way to the big touring +car. The Jap sat behind the wheel in bronze immobility. When Courtlandt +had laid the rug over the knees of the two girls in the back seat he +closed the door and gave Ito his order. + +"Drive Mrs. Courtlandt and Miss Glamorgan to the Double O as quickly as +you can with safety. Jerry, in some way get word to Gerrish that I need +him at Slippy Bend as soon as he can get here. I'll try 'phoning from +the hotel as well; the lines may be in order now." + +"Aren't you coming with us, Steve?" Peggy's tone was aggrieved. + +"No. I have Blue Devil here; I'll ride out. Good-night!" + +He watched the red light on the departing automobile until it became a +mere spark in the distance. Then he returned to the train. He was still +puzzling over the message Greyson had tried to get to Benson when Nelson +hailed him. He was near the step of the last car. + +"Oh, Steve, get a hustle on! I've been waiting for you." Then as +Courtlandt stood beside him he added in a grave voice, "It's about +Denbigh. When we lifted him he--he went out like a candle. Never saw +anything like it. They've taken the--him to the hotel. You'll have to +notify the authorities, Steve. Simms shot him, and I hope they make that +surly brute pay the piper. I'll give my testimony when they want it. Now +I must get on with this train." He sprang to the step of the car and +seized the rail. Brakeman and conductors stood rigidly awaiting his +signal. Courtlandt stepped back. + +"Just a minute, Steve! Lord, I almost forgot to tell you. There is just +one glint of humor in this infernally tragic night. It seems that +Lochinvar is Greyson of the X Y Z ranch. Don't know where that is; +perhaps you do. His lady friend got the dope about this hold-up, too. +She rode to his place for help and the two flivvered down the track to +stop the train, she standing on the seat grabbing his hair with one hand +while with the other she waved that fool lantern. Can't you see the +picture? I'll say she's some little sport." + +"But--but the elopement?" + +"Lord-ee, Steve, don't take this whole rotten business so to heart. +You're livid. That elopement stuff is the glint. The girl had been told +that there were traitors on the train. She knew Greyson's reason for +flagging it mustn't be suspected; just there the elopement excuse +flashed into her mind. Said she reckoned that elopers were the only +people who would do such a fool stunt. She told the maid about it after +things had quieted down. I'll say she's a peacherino. If I hadn't a +perfectly good wife at home she could have me. Happen to know who she +is?" + +"Yes. I happen to know. She is--she is Mrs. Stephen Courtlandt." Nelson +almost fell off the step. + +"For the love of Mike! I don't wonder you're white. She--she was so +darned convincing." With a chuckle he swung forward and gave the signal +to the waiting crew. In a fairly successful imitation of Jerry's voice +he called softly: + +"Go on, Mr. Brakeman. We--we want to get to the coast." + +As he made his way along the street in the starlight Courtlandt felt as +though he were traveling with his double. It was as if his shadow had +suddenly developed a mind which occupied itself exclusively with +thoughts of Jerry, leaving his own brain free to concentrate on the +business ahead. In a spirit of detachment he turned over and over her +reason for the elopement announcement, pictured her ride, her furious +indignation when the flesh and blood Steve had held her in his arms. +There was nothing shadowy in Courtlandt's reaction to that memory. + +The foyer of the small, ramshackle hotel was filled with men, tobacco +smoke, and the hum and buzz of excited voices, all but the space near +one closed door. When they looked in that direction men spoke in +whispers, many of them dragged off their hats. It was as if the +insensate wood had an aura of mystery and tragedy into which no person +in the room cared or dared penetrate. Greyson was the first person to +whom Courtlandt spoke. + +"Bruce--I know now----" With a smile the elder laid his hand on the +younger man's shoulder. + +"Forget it, Steve. Had I been in your place I couldn't have carried off +the situation as well, I am glad that I stand exonerated of that +unspeakable treachery. I--I only hope that later when you learn----" he +cleared his throat and went on irrelevantly, "Who's to tell Mrs. Denbigh +about her husband? After all, he was her husband. You were his friend. +She'll take it better from you, Steve." + +A furious protest rose to Courtlandt's lips but he looked at the closed +door and answered instead: + +"Somebody's got to do it. I'll ride over to the X Y Z in the morning. +There is no use in consulting her about any of the arrangements here. +Has anyone wired Denbigh's mother for instructions?" + +"No, we waited for you. You'd better get her on long distance. A train +goes East at two A. M." + +"I understand. While I'm doing that try to get the Double O on the +'phone, will you? Tell them to get Gerrish here as soon as possible." + +"I will. The sheriff wants to see you at the jail when you can manage +it. He's sent a posse after Ranlett. He's in or near that shack in +Buzzard's Hollow, that is, he was." + +"He's there, all right. I signaled with the rockets as Phil directed. He +may be getting a little uneasy at the non-arrival of his bad men by +this time though. How the dickens did you know about it?" + +"Beechy put a bullet into his leg. Jerry will tell you----" + +"Beechy and Jerry!" + +"Don't look like that, Steve. Jerry is safe and Beechy has made good, +gloriously good. Get the little girl to tell you about it. She--she's a +wonder! Meantime the sheriff waits. He wants to talk to you about Simms. +There can be no doubt that he shot Denbigh. He wants your deposition. +Perhaps it is a cold-blooded way to look at it, but I can't help +thinking that with Simms out of the way his wife and kids will have a +chance at real living. That's an awful indictment of a man, isn't it?" + +It was morning when Courtlandt dismounted in the corral of the Double O. +Slowman hurried up to take Blue Devil. The two men talked in low tones +while dawn streaked the sky in rosy peaks and the stars paled. The grass +glittered with diamond-like dew, the fairies had spread their squares of +gossamer everywhere. The boys had come in with the shorthorns, the +corral boss reported, not one missing. The outfit had got news of the +affair at Devil's Hold-up and were fit to tie that they hadn't had a +chance to clean up Ranlett and his gang. + +After the turmoil of the last few hours the ranch-house seemed weirdly +quiet as Courtlandt entered the living-room. The night air had been keen +and a few coals, like observant red eyes, glowed at him from the hearth. +Scherherazade, the white Persian cat, occupied the wing-chair. She +opened her topaz eyes wide as Steve approached the mantel; she watched +unblinkingly as he laid his arms upon it and looked up at the portrait +above him. He spoke softly as though he and the smiling woman were +comrades and confidants. + +"They said that Phil went out like a candle, Mother. Where did he go? +Where are you? It can't be the end. If it were I shouldn't feel as +though you were with me wherever I am. Was I a brute to Jerry? Will she +ever forgive me? Would you if you were in her place?" The tender eyes +must have reassured him for with a husky, "Good-night, Betty Fairfax!" +he straightened his shoulders and turned away. For an instant he stood +looking across the room. As he went toward his own door he whistled +softly his favorite "Papillions." Scherherazade craned her ruffed white +neck to follow the sound, her eyes narrowed to ruby slits. The coals on +the hearth crumbled and fell. She sprang to the back of the chair and +listened. Across the room a door had latched softly. + +Out in Buzzard's Hollow a white-faced, haggard-eyed man was turning over +his three prisoners to the deputy sheriff. Overhead a great bird hung +motionless for an instant as it glared down at the curious creature with +mammoth outspread wings that lay below. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Breakfast in the court was a late affair the morning after the hold-up. +Steve did not appear. Tommy had given Jerry a sketchy account of his +adventure of the night before, minimizing his part in it. Ming Soy +hovered about the table with what, in an Occidental, would be tearful +devotion. The world was as clean and fresh and sweet as wind and rain +and sunshine could make it. Faintly from the corral came the voices of +riders coming and going; the skip and cough and stutter of tractors +drifted in on the breeze. Benito, with much fluttering and shivering and +croaking, was taking his matutinal plunge in the basin of the fountain. +Goober lay beside Jerry's chair, his tawny eyes fixed unblinkingly on +the parrot, his tongue hanging, his white teeth gleaming. + +The girl, in a pink and white frock that suggested the daintiness of +morning-glories, had been absorbed in the thoughts induced by Tommy's +story. It was some time before she became conscious of the obstinate +silence maintained by the usually talkative Peg, who was a bit more +bewilderingly lovely than ever in a frock just a trifle less blue than +the sky above her. Benson was tenderly solicitous of her comfort. Would +she have more honey? Hopi Soy had broken his own record with the +waffles; sure she wouldn't have one? Peg answered his questions with an +indifferent shake of her head. Jerry observed the two in silence for a +few moments before she protested: + +"Don't grovel, Tommy. I don't know what you've done to displease her +royal highness, but knowing you as I do I am sure that it was nothing to +warrant such rudeness. 'Fess up, children, what has happened? 'Who first +bred strife between the chiefs that they should thus contend?'" she +quoted gayly. "That is worthy even of you, Tommy." + +"You may think it's funny, Jerry," flared Peg indignantly. "But if you +had been--been----" + +"Say it! Tell the gentlemen of the jury just what happened, Miss +Glamorgan," prompted Benson in a judicial tone and with a glint in his +blue eyes. "You won't?" as the girl responded only with a glance of +superb scorn. "Then I will." He disregarded her startled, "Don't dare!" +and announced, "I--I kissed her yesterday, Mrs. Steve." + +"I won't stay to hear!" + +"Yes, you will!" He caught Peggy gently but firmly by the shoulders. He +stood behind her as he explained. "You see--I want--I intend to marry +your sister, Mrs. Steve. Yesterday I staked my claim. I kissed her +once." + +"Hmp! Squatter rights!" interpolated Peggy angrily. + +"Only once! Are you--sure, Tommy?" Jerry's voice was grave but there was +a traitorous quiver of her vivid lips as she asked the question. + +"Only once, on honor. I told her that I should never do it again until +she gave me permission. I meant it. I know that she is young. I expect +to wait until----" + +Peggy twisted herself free from the restraining hands on her shoulders. +Half-way across the court she turned. Her hazel eyes were brilliant with +laughter, her lips curved tormentingly as she flouted the two at the +table. + +"I--I hate--quitters!" she flung at Benson before she disappeared in the +path which led to the office. Tommy followed her with his eyes, then +turned to Jerry. + +"I always watch where my ball falls so that I can find it quickly," he +explained. The assurance had drained from his voice when he asked, +"What--what do you think of my pronunciamento? Will your father stand +for it, Mrs. Steve?" + +"If you and Peg decide that you really care for one another he will have +to," encouraged Jerry gravely. + +"Peg has told me how he feels about family. Mine is the finest ever--but +we don't date back to Colonial days on this continent. I suppose that we +must have existed somewhere before we came to this country, we couldn't +have been prestidigitated out of the everywhere into the here, could we? +There is plenty of money behind us but--but that angel girl thinks I'm +poor." + +"Don't enlighten her. Let her think so--it may--make her kinder. When +the time comes I'll talk with Dad. I'm with you heart and soul, Tommy, +but I am afraid you have a long road to travel before Peg says 'Yes.'" + +"You are wasting your sympathy. 'I scorn to change my state with +kings!'" he declaimed dramatically before he disappeared into the path +which had swallowed up Peggy. + +Jerry rested her elbows on the table, her chin on her clasped hands, and +gazed thoughtfully after him. Subconsciously she noted the sound of +horses' hoofs on the hard road in front of the house. Who was arriving +at ten o'clock in the morning, she wondered idly before she returned to +thoughts of Peg and Tommy. She sat motionless for so long that Goober +rose, stretched and poked his cold nose under her hands. She stroked his +head gently. + +"Where is your master?" she whispered into one of his big ears. The dog +shook his head, sneezed violently and looked up, his eyes eloquent with +reproach. "Did it tickle? I'm sorry." She reached for a lump of sugar in +the squatty Dutch silver bowl. "If you could say please----" Goober rose +on his hind feet, dangled his crossed forepaws and with head on one side +avidly regarded the enticing white morsel in the girl's fingers. He gave +a short, sharp bark. She tossed him the sugar which he crunched between +his strong teeth. She patted his head. "Do you know, Goober, I think +that any dog is more interesting than the average human. Wait for me. +I'll get my hat and we'll take Patches a lump of sugar." + +Obediently the dog took up his position beside her chair. Humming +lightly Jerry went toward the house. What a glorious morning. The +nightmare of yesterday already seemed like an impossible dream. Some day +she would explain that elopement business to Steve and they would laugh +about it together. She caught her breath as a vision of his face as he +had held her in his arms crowded itself into her mind. She raced up the +court steps to elude her clamorous thoughts. At the door of the +living-room she stopped as though galvanized. She brushed her hand +impatiently across her eyes. Coming into the shadowy room from the +gleaming world outside certainly did queer things to one's vision. +That--that couldn't be Steve with a woman's arm about his neck! There +was an inarticulate sound in her throat as she took a step forward. +Courtlandt heard it. With a muttered imprecation he loosened the +clinging arm. His face was white, his eyes inscrutable as they met +Jerry's. + +"Felice, here is Mrs. Courtlandt. I have been telling Mrs. Denbigh of +her husband's----" the woman beside him interrupted. + +"Steve forgets that I haven't had a husband for several years. I confess +the news was a shock. I had no idea that he was in this part of the +country. I suppose that detestable Fairfax man knew it when he suggested +to Bruce Greyson that he invite me here for the summer. Does that +surprise you, Steve?" as Courtlandt stifled an exclamation. + +"If--if I can do anything to help you----" Jerry had produced an apology +for a voice at last. + +"Thank you, no. Steve is all I need. He is such a comfort. Would anyone +but he have had the sympathetic understanding to wait until he thought I +would be awake before coming with such news to the X Y Z? But I came +here to help him. I have had his happiness on my mind since I found this +on the bench outside the door just after Mr. Greyson had received a +mysterious summons." She held out Steve's campaign hat with its black +and gold cord and the band of silver filigree which Jerry had added the +day before. There was malice thinly disguised with solicitude in the +tone in which she added, "Then--then I understood that--that you and he +had gone----" + +"Felice, cut that out! When I want your intervention in my affairs I'll +ask for it," Courtlandt's tone lashed. "Now that you have returned the +hat you may go. Greyson has made arrangements for you to leave on the +east-bound train in the early afternoon. Your maid is packing for you." + +"But why should I go East, Steve? Phil Denbigh is nothing to me, while +you----" her tone was drenched with significance. She looked defiantly +at Jerry who was conscious that she was giving an excellent imitation of +an automaton. Only her eyes felt alive, they burned, and the pulses in +her throat throbbed. She knew that if she opened her lips it would be to +hurl words at Felice of which she would be utterly ashamed later, that +if she unclenched her hands it would be to strike the mocking woman. She +was terrified at the tumult which shook her. Without a glance toward the +two near the window she crossed the room, entered her boudoir and closed +the door behind her. She leaned against it and listened. She heard the +front door close, footsteps on the porch, voices, then the sound of +horse's hoofs. They had gone! + +With the realization, something inside her seemed to crash. The barrier +of ice which she had erected between her heart and Steve was swept away +in a surge of passionate emotion. She knew now why she had been so +terrified last night when she had heard that a man had been wounded, she +had feared it might be Steve; why she had been so furiously angry at +Felice; why it had hurt so intolerably to see her in Steve's arms. It +wasn't because she thought him false and untrue--it was because she +loved him. + +With confused consciousness that she must escape from her own thoughts +she ran into the living-room. She and Goober would take that sugar to +Patches and then----The smiling, tender eyes of the portrait over the +fireplace drew her like a magnet. She crossed her arms on the mantel and +smiled back at them, valiantly. + +"Mother dear----" she implored breathlessly. "Mother!" + +Comforted in some inexplicable way she dropped her head on her arms. In +retrospect she went back to that evening in her father's apartment when +she and Steve had entered into their matrimonial engagement. He had +staked his future for money, she for social advancement. Old Nick had +been right. How could a man love or respect a girl who would marry for +position? Now that Felice was really free, not merely legally free, +would Steve----Absorbed in her thoughts she was conscious of nothing in +the room till Courtlandt's voice behind her announced authoritatively: + +"I have something to say to you, Jerry." + +To the girl's taut nerves it was the voice of the conqueror laying down +terms of surrender and clemency. In a flash she was back in the library +of the Manor, hearing Steve's cool, determined voice announce, "I shall +consider myself in a position to dictate terms to one member of the +family." If he had meant separation then, what would he mean now with +her silly elopement declaration of the night before to infuriate him? +Was he about to reproach her again for that? Felice had supplied the +last shred of evidence he needed when she produced the hat, if he needed +more than her own statement to the brakeman to convict her. Her anger +flamed. He shouldn't get a chance to indict her. To put one's opponent +on the defense meant strategic advantage. Before he could speak she +fended: + +"You can't reproach me for last night, Steve, after--after what I saw +when I came into this room. Honors are even," flippantly. + +He caught her by the shoulders and looked steadily into her angry eyes. +They met his defiantly. His voice was grave as he probed: + +"After last night and--and this morning, Jerry, do you still--still want +to go on with it?" + +"Go on with it? Do you--you mean our comedy of marriage? Why not? +'Rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of.' +You see I have contracted Tommy's pernicious habit of borrowing from the +classics when I wish to express myself with force and distinction. Let +me go!" + +Courtlandt's grip on her shoulders tightened. His face was white. There +was a rigidity about his jaws which should have warned her. + +"Flippancy won't save you. You are to listen to me now, girl." + +"While you boast to me again as you did last night that you had not made +love to another woman? Not a chance!" she twisted away from him and +gained the threshold of her own room. "Don't--don't let me keep you from +your alluring--friend," she flung back at him before she closed and +locked her door on the inside with grating emphasis. + +Then she listened with hands clasped tight over her heart. The anger +which was so foreign to her character had been a mere flash in the pan. +Already she was sorry and humiliated and ashamed. She had maintained +always that a girl who could not keep her temper, who wrangled, belonged +in the quarter where shrewish women, with shawls over their heads and +forlorn little babies forever under their feet, fought and brawled. +Hadn't she seen them in her childhood? And she--she who thought herself +superior hadn't been much better under the skin. She could have +scratched Felice's eyes out and as for Steve---- + +Where was he now? The living-room was portentously still. Had he gone? +Why couldn't she have listened to his explanation, have assumed a +friendliness which this new, disturbing riot in her veins made +impossible as a reality? Her eyes which still smarted with unshed tears +traveled round the dainty, chintz-hung boudoir. In a detached way she +noted that the one picture on the wall, which served as the key-note to +the color scheme of the room, needed straightening. She must speak to +Ming Soy----Her heart hopped to her throat, then did a tail-spin to her +toes as a low, stern voice outside her room commanded: + +"Open the door, Jerry." + +She stood rigid, motionless. + +"Open the door!" there was an undercurrent in Courtlandt's words which +seemed to paralyze her muscles. In a voice the more compelling because +of its repression he threatened, "If you don't open it at once--I'll +break it in!" The shake he gave the barrier between them broke the spell +which held the girl. She turned the key and flung open the door. + +With a sudden fierce movement he caught her hands. She had a confused +sense of flinging herself against an inflexible, determined will as she +struggled to free them. She met his steady, dominant eyes. + +"Steve! What--what rank melodrama! Are you qualifying for the movies?" +she essayed a nonchalant tone which to her hypercritical senses seemed +horribly frightened. "What--what do you want?" + +"That door open. Nothing else--now," Courtlandt answered as he dropped +her hands and turned away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +"What shall we do this afternoon, Jerry?" Peggy Glamorgan asked as she, +her sister and Benson sat at luncheon three hours later. The table was +spread on the broad, shadowy veranda on the north side of the +ranch-house. The sun beat down upon fields and white roads; insects +droned lazily to the accompaniment of the faint roar of the stream +swollen by the heavy rain of the night before. "Ye gods! If here isn't +Abdul the Great," she mocked saucily as Courtlandt appeared at the door. +"Are his humble slaves to be honored with his presence at the noonday +meal? Allah, oh Allah! Jerry, aren't you overwhelmed at this tribute to +our charms?" + +"Can't a man lunch beneath his own vine and fig tree without creating a +panic? From now on I shall make it a daily rite that you may get used to +it," Steve laughed. He laid his hand on Benson's shoulder. "Tommy, +you're a hero. Slippy Bend is agog with admiration. What the populace +can't think of to say in praise of you the deputy sheriff supplies in +the most colorful vernacular the locality produces. Don't run; I won't +say any more," as Benson, fiery red, half rose from his chair. Steve +seated himself opposite Jerry. + +She observed him resentfully from behind a screen of lashes. He looked +more care-free and debonair than she had ever seen him while her heart +still contracted suffocatingly at any thought of the morning. It was +just like a man, nothing went deep, she thought. Ming Soy fluttered +about in devoted anticipation of his needs; Peggy poured cream into his +tea with a lavish hand. Benson laughed. + +"You're a master tactician, old dear. You let your light shine upon us +but seldom and behold the devotion when you do appear. Alas, 'Maidens, +like moths, are ever caught by glare.' I'll say your beatific expression +would put the twinkle-twinkle-little-star effect out of business. Got a +load off your mind, haven't you? Slowman tells me that the Shorthorns +are back to a hoof, that our temperamental late manager is being +securely, if not luxuriously accommodated with quarters in the jail and +that--that Mrs. Denbigh is en route to the effete East via Slippy Bend. +Is my information correct?" He stole a surreptitious glance at Jerry +who, with the aid of a pink-tipped finger, was nonchalantly sailing rose +petal boats on the sea of her crystal finger-bowl. + +"It is. The tangle of the last few months is straightening out. From +now on I'll subscribe to that bit of philosophy of Doc Rand's, 'Things +have a marvelous, unbelievable way of coming right.' The late +unpleasantness has resulted in one thing: we have an all-American outfit +on the Double O ranch on whose honor I'd stake my last dollar. They may +come of varied and contending races but when it comes to ideals of +service and loyalty to the nation, they're united. Next week I'm going +to Uncle Nick's camp in the mountains to inspect the silver mine, and +incidentally to fish. There is a lake there where the trout are so thick +they form bread-lines to get a chance at the bait." + +"You tell 'em!" jeered Benson. + +"It's a fact. I want to shake the memory of the last two months, to get +away so that I can come back and make a fresh start. I'll leave you in +charge of the ranch, Tommy." + +"'When Caesar says, "Do this," it is performed.'" + +"What's on for this afternoon? Let's do something. I want to get +yesterday out of my mind." + +"Miss Glamorgan and I thought--I thought--that if you didn't need me, +we'd ride over to Buzzard's Hollow; that spot seems to be occupying +stage center now. I'll personally conduct you and Mrs. Steve over the +abandoned aeroplane if you'll mosey along with us." + +Jerry tried to control a shudder. She wondered if she could ever again +hear the name of the hollow without seeing a close-up of Beechy and +Ranlett and that mutilated calf. She sensed Courtlandt's quick look at +her and answered hurriedly: + +"Don't count me in. I shan't ride again until--until I have forgotten +the hours I spent in the saddle yesterday. Buzzard's Hollow as an +objective leaves me cold. If no one else wants the roadster I shall +drive over to the B C to inquire for Mrs. Carey. Mother Eagan may allow +me to see the baby." + +Jerry could have cheerfully bitten out her too confiding tongue when an +hour later she found Steve waiting beside the roadster at the front +door. He had changed from his usual riding togs to sport clothes. He +reddened under her surprised eyes. + +"Have you gone saddle shy too?" she asked flippantly to conceal her +frightened suspicion that he was going with her. + +"No, but I must see Beechy and as you were going to Bear Creek I thought +we'd go along together." + +"But--I--would rather----" + +"Get in, please. It will take time to get to the B C by the road in this +car, which is far from being the last word in speed-limit violators." + +With teeth set in her lips to steady them Jerry stepped into the +roadster. What motive was back of Steve's decision to accompany her, she +wondered, as the car shot smoothly ahead under his skilful driving. She +regarded him covertly from under the brim of her rose-colored hat. He +was gazing straight ahead, his brows knit in a slight frown. The silence +between them seemed heavy with portent. She must say something. From far +off came a faint whistle. + +"Is that the east-bound train?" she asked and then wished fervently that +she hadn't. + +"Yes. Just pulling out of Slippy Bend. Felice is on it. Jerry, I want +you to understand that the situation you stumbled on this morning was +merely some of her theatrical clap-trap. When I told her about Phil she +flung herself into my arms and pretended to be overcome." + +"Don't apologize," the girl mocked, then as she caught a dangerous gleam +in his eyes she abandoned thin ice. "Has Mr. Denbigh----" + +"I got Phil's mother on long distance soon after midnight. Gerrish took +him--went East in the early morning." + +"Was he a dear friend of yours?" + +"No. He was in my class at college but he was always aloof, unfriendly. +While the rest of us were in athletics he was devoting himself to his +violin. We thought him indifferent but I understand now that his +position had corroded his sensitive heart." + +"Position? Wasn't he of the elect?" + +"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Jerry. Phil's father and mother were among +the great army of incompatibles. His heritage of misery as the child of +divorced parents, tossed back and forth between their habitations, +ruined his life but--but he made royally good at the last, poor chap." + +Jerry blinked furiously to rid her eyes of the tears which had flooded +them at his tone. They rode on in silence. The road ran through the +fragrant, chill quiet of dense pines, which creaked and swayed a +mournful note in the slight breeze. When they emerged into the +willow-fringed, sun dappled road again Courtlandt spoke. + +"I want you to tell me everything that happened yesterday, Jerry. I--I +know now that that elopement stuff was all a bluff but--but it was an +infernally dangerous one. It was lucky for Greyson that an interest +bigger than any individual was concerned in last night's work +or--forgive me for my lack of faith and tell me what happened, won't +you, girl?" + +Jerry snatched at her stampeding composure and dragged it back. Her +answer was tantalizingly slow. + +"That 'won't you' was a master stroke of diplomacy. Machiavellian, I +call it. Had you demanded an explanation I wouldn't have given it. Where +shall I commence?" She saw him stiffen at her levity but he had his +voice well in hand as he answered: + +"At the beginning." + +"Only on condition that there are no interruptions." + +"Then be merciful and tell your story quickly." + +Jerry began the recital of her adventures with her determination to +amuse Peggy. She forgot herself, she was quite unconscious of the +unevenness of Courtlandt's driving as the story unrolled of its own +momentum. He did not interrupt with words but at times the car shot +forward as though propelled by a furious impulse. They passed Jim Carey +herding some lank-bodied, big-kneed calves before him. He waved and +shouted a greeting. As they entered the cottonwoods by the Bear Creek +corral Jerry described the culmination of the wild ride on the track, +her stunned amazement when she had heard Steve's furious exclamation +behind her. Her voice was traitorously unsteady as she added: + +"'O ye of little faith!' Even when I saw you there, knew that you had +heard my explanation, I--I thought that--that somehow you would +understand." + +"Why would I? You had told me that you had been engaged to Greyson. You +never can tell what a man will do when he is mad about a woman, when he +loves her crown of shining hair, her eyes, her smile, the--the tip of +her bare pink foot." Memory sent a surge of red to his face. He brought +the car to a stop in front of the shack. Beechy, his face white, his +hair redder and more rampant than ever, called eagerly from the open +window at which he sat bolstered up in a chair. + +"Wait for me at the house. I shan't be long." + +Jerry nodded dumbly, and drove on. Courtlandt's words had set her heart +beating a furious call to arms. What had he meant? Who was mad about a +woman? He or Greyson? Whose bare pink foot? Involuntarily she tucked one +suede shoe under her, her cheeks flushed warmly. He--he couldn't have +meant her. + +In the living-room of the cabin Jerry held the cocoon of soft flannel, +which in turn held the Carey baby, in her arms. She laid her soft cheek +against his. + +"Isn't--isn't he the dearest!" she crooned as she felt the sweet warm +thrill of his satin-soft skin against her face. Doc Rand, before the +fireplace, flapping his long black coat-tails in time to his +heel-and-toe teeter, blinked at her through lenses which had become +unaccountably misty. His russet-apple face showed a new set of lines. + +"I--I am so glad that he arrived safely," Jerry observed innocently, +punctuating the words with cooing sounds directed at the crease in the +baby's neck. Indignation at the possible slur on his professional skill +served as a safety valve for Rand's emotion which had been so +unaccountably stirred by the sight of the lovely girl with the child in +her arms. He had seen the same thing unmoved hundreds of times before, a +woman with her face snuggled against a baby's. + +"Arrived safely! Why shouldn't he arrive safely in a home like this? +Take it from me, the Almighty's going to pick his mothers carefully from +now on. He's just had a demonstration of what ought not to happen in +poor Denbigh's case. He'll find a way to make women realize what a great +and glorious privilege it is to be the mother of an American citizen." + +"Of either sex?" probed the girl mischievously. + +"You've said it. The female of the species has got to take her share in +the responsibility of the government. If we have another war, God grant +we don't, the young women will be drafted to work, just as the men will +to fight. There'll be no feminine slackers infesting the neighborhoods +of the camps next time." + +"Hear! Hear!" applauded a low voice from the door. Doc Rand beamed at +the newcomer paternally. + +"Steve, you scoffer, come in! Take a look at what your wife has in that +bundle." + +Jerry wished passionately that she were a thousand miles away when Steve +loomed over her but she didn't intend to let him suspect it. She pulled +away the soft blanket that he could see better and challenged +breathlessly: + +"Isn't he a sweetie peach?" + +"Isn't he--it--very red?" Courtlandt stammered in honest embarrassment +that he could not conscientiously voice a paean of praise of the beauty +of the Carey heir. Doc Rand indulged in a denatured guffaw. + +"Lord-ee, Steve, your mental propeller showered sparks of originality +that time, didn't it? The baby isn't appreciated here; you'd better take +him back to his mother, Mrs. Eagan," as the nurse, beaming with +full-moon effulgence, entered the room. Jerry smiled up at the portly +woman as she laid the little bundle in her arms. + +"Give my love to Mrs. Carey and tell her that he is the loveliest baby I +ever saw," she whispered eagerly. + +"What do you think about Beechy, Doc?" Courtlandt asked as Mrs. Eagan +left the room. + +"He'll pull through now that he has eased his conscience by confession. +I had to let him talk and unburden his mind before I could heal his +body." + +"I've just come from the shack. Carl told me that if--it hadn't been for +Denbigh he would have been in on that deal last night." + +"Yes, Steve, but Beechy was out of the hold-up for good when he found +that it was government money they were after. He was prepared to take +what was coming to him for quitting; he knew mighty well that a man +couldn't double-cross Ranlett and--and live, that is, not if the Skunk +knew it. He knows now that Denbigh saved him. Beechy isn't bad at +heart. He and a lot of others like him are suffering from an acute +attack of disillusionment, that's all. They'd been fed up on +'Hail-to-the-conquering-hero' stuff and when the shouting was over and +they spent weary months in hospital forgotten by the world at large, and +in particular by that female portion of it that had fed them, written to +them, married them during the war, do you wonder that they were ready +for any deviltry that was afoot? I don't. But you see, in spite of his +loud talk, when Beechy came slam up against the proposition of +defrauding his government, ungrateful government that he thought it, +there was nothing doing. He couldn't get away with it. He'll never be +able to do much hard work, but there must be a place for him." + +"A place for him! If he ever escapes my clutches again he's more +slippery than I think him." + +"Go to it, Steve! Even you and I salaam when he speaks in that tone, +don't we, Mrs. Jerry?" + +The sun had dropped behind the mountains; fields and foot-hills lay +luminous and still as Courtlandt drove the roadster past the corral at +the Double O. A bunch of horses was being turned into the pastures for +the night feed. They nipped, they kicked, they rolled. The riders who +were driving them out tolerated their antics patiently, with an +occasional admonitory "Hi-yew!" Jerry turned to look after them. + +"I wish Peg could have seen that. In this light, in their broad-brimmed +hats, their colored neckerchiefs, their gloves, their costumes are +picturesque. They would have satisfied even her craving for local +color." + +Courtlandt drove on to the ranch-house without answering. It had been a +silent ride home. Jerry had been tensely apprehensive of what might be +coming when they started, but as the man beside her drove steadily with +only an occasional inquiry as to her comfort, she had relaxed and +allowed her thoughts to drift. + +Steve followed her into the living-room. As she opened the door of her +boudoir he spoke from where he stood under his mother's portrait. + +"Come here, Jerry! Please----" he added with a smile as she hesitated. + +"I must dress for dinner. I----" + +"There is plenty of time. I want to talk to you. Come here!" As a safe +and sane compromise she took refuge behind the back of the wing-chair. + +"Well?" she queried defensively. + +With startling suddenness he caught her hands and drew her to the hearth +beside him. + +"That's better! I can't talk to you when you are so far away." His grip +on her hands tightened. "Jerry, do you remember that day at the Manor +when Uncle Nick's will was read? You----" + +"The--the day we decided to make the detour? It--it has proved an +adventure, hasn't it?" she interrupted in a breathless attempt to gain +time. Courtlandt ignored the question. + +"You asked me if I wanted his fortune. Do you also remember my answer?" +Then as with downcast cast eyes she nodded assent, he repeated, "'More I +ever wanted anything, except one, in my life.' You thought that that one +thing was Felice and I--I let you think so. I meant you, Jerry. No, you +can't go, you've got to listen now. We've been playing at cross purposes +long enough. I wanted Uncle Nick's money because I wanted to be rid of +the humiliating load of obligation we Courtlandts had shouldered. I +wanted to meet you on equal terms. I loved you the first time I saw you +in your shimmering orchid gown with the great fan which you wielded with +the air of an empress. Who was I to tell you so? You wouldn't have +believed me, you would have despised me as a hypocrite. I had no money, +nothing but debts to offer you. But if I hadn't loved you nothing could +have forced me, nothing could have tempted me to ask you to marry me. On +the way in to meet you that first night, I promised Sir Peter that if in +any way you were repellent to me, I would let your father take +possession of our property. I--I--well, I had to bluff some to my father +going home to cover my bowled-over condition. I don't ask for anything +now, I only want a promise that you won't close your heart against +me--that you will--oh, what's the use--you must love me!" + +The girl looked down upon the head pressed against her hands then up at +the tender eyes of the woman above the mantel. Were they misted or were +there tears in her own eyes? She choked back a sound that was half +laugh, half sob as she observed with tantalizing charm: + +"Of course when you say 'must,' O Abdul the Great----" Before she could +finish the sentence Steve had her crushed in his arms. + +"It's your own fault, Mr. Tommy Benson. I told you that I shouldn't----" + +It was Peggy's voice at the door. In breathless haste Jerry freed +herself from Courtlandt's arms. He caught her hands and drew her back. +His voice was tenderly exultant, his eyes disconcertingly possessive as +he reminded huskily: + +"About that honeymoon I promised to show you, Mrs. Courtlandt----Can I +interest you in a silver mine?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +The two men were in striking contrast. Glamorgan, massive, shrewd-eyed, +of big affairs and world interests and Peter Courtlandt patrician, +dreamy-eyed, who dwelt largely in the realm of books and art, were +smoking on the terrace of the Manor. They could look down the +box-bordered paths of the garden to where stone steps led to a small +landing on the shore of the river. A tender swung at its moorings. +Motor-boats and steam-boats plied busily back and forth on the water +which rippled into scales of gold. From a man-o'-war anchored +down-stream came the sound of a ship's band. The sun was setting with +lavish prodigality of color, spreading great swaths of crimson and gold +and violet above the hills. One steady brilliant star shone in the west. +From the garden drifted the scent of heliotrope. The light breeze +stirred the awning over the terrace, gently lifted the soft rings of +white hair on Peter Courtlandt's head, impertinently flicked the sheets +of the letter Glamorgan held. + +Courtlandt withdrew his eyes from the river and looked at his guest. +The large man was smiling broadly, at his thoughts, doubtless, as his +eyes were fixed unseeingly on the star. His host suddenly remembered +that he had not seen the oil-king smile like that since Jerry and Steve +had left the Manor; he had appeared like a man spiritually burdened. +Could his furious indignation because his daughter had gone West with +her husband have accounted for his gravity? Courtlandt tossed the +remains of his cigar over the terrace wall and addressed his companion. + +"You said that you had a letter to read to me," he suggested. +Glamorgan's eyes flashed to his--was there a hint of tears in them?--the +smile on his lips spread and spread until his host was reminded of the +moon in all the glory of its fullness. He laughed in sympathy. "It must +be amusing, if one judges by your expression." The oil-king indulged in +a throaty chuckle; it sounded like the delight of a boy in some +satisfactorily accomplished bit of mischief. + +"It isn't the letter which is so amusing, though I'll hand it to Peg +when it comes to expression that has punch, it is what I can read +between the lines. Listen to what she writes and you'll understand." He +settled huge horn-rimmed eye-glasses in place and began to read from the +letter in his hand. + + "DEAR DAD: + + "By this time you must have received my letter about the near + hold-up, _poor_ Mr. Denbigh, Beechy, Tommy (Benson the Bluffer + the outfit call him now) and your she's-a-hero daughter. I + penned that throbbing epistle on the morning after our return + from Slippy Bend when my mind was a red hot molten mass of + _thrills_. Well, to quote Scripture (don't give me the credit + of this, Tommy Benson reeled it off when I expressed amazement + at what was happening and I copied it from the Bible), 'There + be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which + I know not: The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a + serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; + and the way of a man with a maid.' It is that last phrase which + has to do with the situation here. When I first came Steve had + _about_ as much expression in his face when he looked at Jerry + as has that granite civil war veteran in the park at Oil City. + Jerry was as bad. They were the nearest to cold-storage + newly-weds that I had ever seen. Now--ye gods!--when I look up + and see Steve's eyes on Jerry my heart _stampedes_. I feel as + though I had made the unpardonable break of opening a closed + door without knocking. Jerry behaves a little better. She keeps + her eyes to heel but her _voice_---- + + "'The devil hath not in all his quiver's choice an arrow for + the heart like a sweet voice.' Tommy Benson again. He is a more + liberal education than English 27 at College. I asked him if the + lines were Shakespeare or the Bible and he said that a gentleman + named Byron wrote them but that I was _not_ to cultivate his + acquaintance indiscriminately. I have sent east for _all_ of Mr. + Byron's poems. But I digress. + + "To return to Steve and Jerry. They start on a camping trip + to-morrow, up into the wilderness to inspect some silly old + silver mine. Steve has sent Marcelle O'Neil ahead with + packhorses, guns, provisions, and rods. Thank heaven they + didn't ask _me_ to go. I'm to stay at the Double O with Tommy + Benson's mother, who arrived yesterday. She's a stylish-stout + of about fifty with wonderful skin and teeth, eyes that make + you feel you'd like to _drown_ in them they are so like + clear-blue pools; hair like dull gold and a smile--well, I + walked _straight_ into her arms when she turned it on me. + + "I wrote you that Jerry seemed terribly short of money. You + _must_ do something about it. Her Tiffany flame has found an + Alexandrite that she wants. When I told her the price, a + _miserable_ little two thousand dollars, you would have thought + I'd mentioned the amount of the Allied war debt. Why don't you + send her the ring? + + "From my limited observation (there's been something doing + every minute since I set foot on the Double O), I should say + that ranching was a great life when the coyotes didn't steal + your chickens, when the Shorthorns didn't break away, or when a + disgruntled fragment of your outfit didn't shoot up the + neighborhood. Jerry says that she and Steve will spend their + winters at the Manor after they have been here a year, + something to do with Uncle Nick's will, _you_ probably know + about it. Steve will take Tommy Benson into partnership and he + will be manager-in-chief. It's a _great_ chance for Tommy. He + is the poor-man-with-a-future type. He's _super_-sensitive + about his lack of money, though. Bruce Greyson brought a + perfectly _stunning_ man to call the other day, heir to a + fortune. Of course I had to be nice to him. Ye gods! You should + have seen Tommy while he was here. After the plutocrat had + departed I asked him why he had looked as though he could have + crunched mountain lion in the raw. He just _glowered_ and + quoted: + + "'O what a world of vile, ill favoured faults + Looks handsome in three thousand pounds a year.' + + "From my window I can see Sandy's flivver in the distance; that + means that I must wind up this letter--pronto. That carrier is + the _funniest_ sight. He wears a tall white hat and a linen + duster and looks for all the world like the Mad Hatter in + 'Alice.' I almost expect to hear him snap when he sees me + coming, 'Your hair needs cutting,' the way the Hatter does in + the story. _Heaps_ of love, + + "PEG. + + "P.S. Praise be! Careful Cosmetics has departed. That's what I + call the Denbigh woman." + +Glamorgan removed his glasses and threw back his head with a chuckling +laugh. Courtlandt laughed with him. + +"Peggy certainly wields a facile pen. I--I am glad of what she writes +about Steve and Jerry. I confess that I feared----" + +"I want to talk to you about that, Courtlandt," interrupted Glamorgan +eagerly. "It has taken all my strength of will and then some, not to +take you into my confidence but--but I promised your brother-in-law +that----" + +"Nicholas Fairfax!" + +"I don't wonder you are astonished. You see, from the moment I saw him I +fell for him. I'd known a lot of men like him. Chestnut burrs outside +but sound and sweet in their hearts. He must have felt that I understood +him for he hadn't been at the Manor long before he confided his doubts +and hopes to me. Old Nick was keener than you or I. He hadn't been here +twenty-four hours before he had sized up the situation between Jerry and +Steve. He realized that they were heading straight for the matrimonial +reefs where so many of their friends had come to grief. I guess he +realized also that I was a little more anxious for that marriage to turn +out a success than even he was. The Lord only knows the burden of guilt +I would have carried the rest of my life if it hadn't." + +"You wouldn't have been the only one." + +"I know that, Courtlandt. Nick realized that he hadn't long to live. He +felt sure of Jerry's loyalty, that all that was needed to right matters +between the two was to give Steve money and make the girl dependent on +him. He knew the boy well enough to know that his pride would stand +between them as long as Jerry was spending my money. That was where I +came in. He had me cast for the stern parent act. I was to oppose +Jerry's going to the ranch. Opposition, he figured, would steel her +determination to go with her husband, if she was tempted to waver. I +knew my girl better. I knew that she would keep the covenant but I +consented to please Old Nick. I almost caved in the day she went away, +when I saw her watch the gate wistfully until the train started, but I +kept out of sight." + +"Who would have believed to have seen Nick in those last days that he +was planning so shrewdly." + +"That wasn't all he planned. He had the dickens of a time with Greyson. +He wanted him to invite Mrs. Denbigh to the X Y Z for the summer as a +sort of acid test for Steve." + +"What a diabolical idea." + +"I'm not so sure of that. His argument was that if the woman had the +slightest lure for Steve----" + +"But she hadn't," Courtlandt denied sharply. + +"I couldn't see how she could have, but then vamps aren't in my line. +Nick was possessed by the idea. Greyson kicked like a steer against it +but finally gave in. You can't tell. Fairfax may have had other reasons +up his sleeve. Denbigh was at the Bear Creek ranch. He might have +thought, have hoped, that he and Felice would come together again. In +spite of his ill-health and absorption in his ranch, your brother-in-law +was a profound thinker on social and economic questions. I spent hours +arguing with him. He contended that the great weakness of the American +people lay in their lack of stability, that they could be swept along on +a wave of enthusiasm but that when it came to the steady tide of +determination they wouldn't even tread water; that lack of stability was +at the root of the divorce habit, which if it wasn't checked would +insidiously undermine the character of the nation." + +"He was right, but," with a profound sigh of relief, "it looks as though +Jerry and Steve had escaped the reefs, doesn't it?" + +"I'll say it does," with a reminiscent chuckle. "Now you know why I +gloated over that letter of Peg's. The child didn't realize how she was +easing my mind. Do you know, I like what she writes about that Benson +boy. Next to a man with family background I have a deep and abiding +respect for a man who has the best in literature at his tongue's end. +He's a rare bird these days." + +"Then you wouldn't object if Peg and Tommy--he hasn't the kind of family +you want behind him." + +"I don't care who Peggy marries if he is clean and upstanding, with +self-respect and love for my girl. I'm through meddling, though I'm not +sorry for what I did with Jerry. She stood nine chances out of ten of +marrying a fortune-hunter; Steve wasn't that; he had to be forcibly fed +with money. In spite of that fact I haven't drawn an easy breath since +Nick told me his suspicions, until now." He glanced at the letter. "I +think I'll send that Alexandrite as a sort of peace offering." + +"You're too late. Steve wired to me to have it sent." + +"He did! Then you knew all I have been telling you?" + +"No. I only put two and two together when I got Steve's message." + +Glamorgan rose, shook himself like a bear and extended one hand to his +host. His voice was curiously rough as he laid the other on his shoulder +and confided awkwardly: + +"Good-night! I--I hope they'll name the first son Peter, Courtlandt." + +Courtlandt put his free hand on the big man's shoulder. His laugh was +unsteady but his voice was vibrant with feeling as he countered: + +"And I--I hope they'll name the second one--Dan. Good-night." They stood +shaking hands furiously, laughing boyishly, and patting one another's +shoulders as the lights flashed up on the river and night rang down the +curtain of dusk. + + + + +BOOKS BY EMILIE LORING + + + THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT + HERE COMES THE SUN! + A CERTAIN CROSSROAD + THE SOLITARY HORSEMAN + GAY COURAGE + SWIFT WATCH + LIGHTED WINDOWS + FAIR TOMORROW + UNCHARTED SEAS + HILLTOPS CLEAR + WE RIDE THE GALE! + WITH BANNERS + IT'S A GREAT WORLD + GIVE ME ONE SUMMER + AS LONG AS I LIVE + TODAY IS YOURS + HIGH OF HEART + ACROSS THE YEARS + THERE IS ALWAYS LOVE + WHERE BEAUTY DWELLS + STARS IN YOUR EYES + RAINBOW AT DUSK + WHEN HEARTS ARE LIGHT AGAIN + KEEPERS OF THE FAITH + BEYOND THE SOUND OF GUNS + BRIGHT SKIES + BECKONING TRAILS + I HEAR ADVENTURE CALLING + LOVE CAME LAUGHING BY + TO LOVE AND TO HONOR + FOR ALL YOUR LIFE + MY DEAREST LOVE + I TAKE THIS MAN + THE SHADOW OF SUSPICION + WHAT THEN IS LOVE + LOOK TO THE STARS + BEHIND THE CLOUD + WITH THIS RING + HOW CAN THE HEART FORGET + THROW WIDE THE DOOR + FOLLOW YOUR HEART + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT*** + + +******* This file should be named 34129-8.txt or 34129-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/4/1/2/34129 + + + +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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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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Trail of Conflict</p> +<p>Author: Emilie Baker Loring</p> +<p>Release Date: October 24, 2010 [eBook #34129]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Darleen Dove, Roger Frank, Mary Meehan,<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>The Trail of Conflict</h1> + +<h2>By EMILIE LORING</h2> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + +<h3>PUBLISHERS<br /> +<i>Grosset & Dunlap</i><br /> +NEW YORK</h3> + +<h3>COPYRIGHT 1922 BY THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY</h3> + +<h3>BY ARRANGEMENT WITH LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY</h3> + +<h3>MADE IN THE U. S. A.</h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOKS_BY_EMILIE_LORING">BOOKS BY EMILIE LORING</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>"That is your ultimatum, Glamorgan? My boy for your girl or you scoop up +my possessions and transfuse them into yours?"</p> + +<p>Peter Courtlandt tapped the arm of his chair nervously as he regarded +the man who sat opposite in front of the fire. The two men were in +striking contrast. Courtlandt seemed a component part of the room in +which they sat, a room which with its dull, velvety mahogany, its costly +Eastern rugs, its rare old portraits and book-lined walls, proclaimed +generations of ancestors who had been born to purple and fine linen. He +was spare and tall. His features might have served as the model for the +portrait of Nelson in the Metropolitan Museum. His eyes were darkly +luminous, the eyes of a dreamer; his white hair curled in soft rings +over his head; his hands were long and patrician. Glamorgan was built on +the Colossus plan, large head, heavy features into which the elements +had ground a dull color, a huge body without the least trace of fat. +Only his eyes were small. They looked as though they had been forgotten +until the last moment, as though the designer had then hastily poked +holes beneath the Websterian brows to insert two brilliant green beads. +He was a handsome man in a clean-souled, massive way; moreover he looked +to be a person who would crash through obstacles and win out by sheer +persistence.</p> + +<p>He flung the remains of his cigar into the fire as he answered +Courtlandt. With the cushion-tipped fingers of his large hands spread +upon his knees he bent forward and fixed his interrogator with his +emerald gaze.</p> + +<p>"That statement sounds raw but it's true. I've been playing my cards for +what you call a scoop for some time. Fifty years ago my mother brought +her family from Wales to this country. We had come from the coal region. +Coal was all the older children knew, so we drifted to Pennsylvania. +Until I was seventeen I picked coal. Occasionally I saw the stockholders +who came to inspect the mines. One day your father brought you. You +passed me as though I were a post, but right then and there I learned +the difference between mere money and money with family behind it. That +day I laid my plans for life. I'd make money, Lord, how I'd pile it up; +I'd cut out the dissipations of my kind, I'd marry the most refined girl +who'd have me, and I'd have one of my children, at least, marry into a +family like yours. My grandchildren should have ancestors who counted. +Well, I got the girl. She had good Virginia stock behind her. Geraldine +was born and after five years Margaret, and then my wife died. I began +to pile. I denied myself everything but books, that my girls could be +fitted to fill the position I was determined they should have. I——"</p> + +<p>Peter Courtlandt's clear, high-bred voice interrupted. There was a trace +of amusement in his tone:</p> + +<p>"Did you never think that your daughters might develop plans of their +own? That they might refuse to be disposed of so high-handedly?"</p> + +<p>"Margaret may, but Jerry won't. Since she was a little thing she's been +brought up with the idea of marrying for social position; she knows that +my heart is set on it. Why, I used to visit her at school dressed in my +roughest clothes, that the difference between me and the other fathers +would soak in thoroughly. Oh well, smile. I acknowledge that the idea is +an obsession with me; every man has some weak joint; that's mine. I'll +say for Jerry that she never once flinched from owning up to me as hers. +I've seen the color steal to her eyes when I appeared in my rough +clothes, but she'd slip her hand into mine, for all the world as though +she were protecting me, cling tight to it, and introduce me to her +friends. The girls and teachers loved her, or she couldn't have got away +with it. Her friends were among the best at college. Oh, she'll marry to +please me. Even if she didn't want to, she'd do it to give Peg a chance; +she's crazy about her, but I know her, she won't go back on her old Dad. +Besides, Courtlandt, I have a firm conviction that a person can put +through any worthy thing on which he is determined. How else do you +account for the seeming miracles men got away with in the World War? The +test is, how much do you want it? I've gone on that principle all my +life, and it's worked, I tell you, it's worked!"</p> + +<p>He waved away the box of cigars Courtlandt offered and pulled a +vicious-looking specimen of the weed from his pocket. He stuck it +between his teeth before he resumed:</p> + +<p>"After I left the coal-mines I beat it to Texas, got an option on land +there and began to make my pile in the oil-fields. I worked like a slave +days and studied nights. I didn't mean to give Jerry cause to be ashamed +of her Dad when she did land. Then I set my lawyer to looking up the +affairs of the Courtlandt family. I found that you had a boy, handsome, +upstanding and decent. I had him well watched, I assure you. I wasn't +throwing Jerry away on a regular guy even if I was stuck on your +family. I found also that your money was getting scarcer than hen's +teeth. I took the mortgage on this house, on every piece of property in +your estate. I knew when the boy chucked his law course and went into +the army. I had him watched while he was overseas and I know that he +came through that seething furnace of temptation straight. On the day +your boy marries my girl and brings her to this house to live I'll turn +your property over to you free and clear. It is in fine condition and +will give you a handsome income. It won't be sufficient for you and the +young people to live as I want to see them, but I'll take care of that. +You've known me now for three months. You know that I'm absolutely on +the level in my business dealings. What say?"</p> + +<p>Courtlandt rose impetuously and stood with his back to the fire, one arm +resting on the carved mantel.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, man, I'm not the one to say. It isn't my life that's being +tied up. This property can go to the——" he stopped, and looked about +the beautiful room. He stared for a moment at the portrait of a +seventeenth century Courtlandt which hung opposite, then up at the +beautiful face of the woman in the painting set like a jewel in the dark +paneling above the mantel. Her eyes looked back at him, gravely, +searchingly. His voice was husky as he added quickly, "I'll talk with +Steve to-night and if he——"</p> + +<p>Glamorgan nodded approvingly.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you named him Stephen. It was Stephanus Courtlandt whose +estate was erected into the lordship and manor of Courtlandt by William +the third, wasn't it? You see I know your family history backward. I +never buy a pig in a poke," with rough frankness. He rose and stretched +to his great height. The man watching him thought of the Russian bear +which had roused and shaken himself with such tragic results. "Why don't +you and Steve run in town to-night and have supper with Jerry and me +after the theatre?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you; if Steve has no engagement we will."</p> + +<p>Glamorgan thrust his hands deep into his pockets and glowered at the man +by the mantel.</p> + +<p>"I'll leave you now to deal with him. You might mention to Steve the +fact that if he refuses my offer I foreclose within forty-eight hours."</p> + +<p>The blood rushed to Courtlandt's face as though it would burst through +the thin, ivory skin. He touched a bell, his voice was cold with +repression as he answered the threat:</p> + +<p>"I'll talk with Stephen this evening. Judson, Mr. Glamorgan's coat," to +the smooth-haired, smooth-faced, smooth-footed butler who answered the +ring.</p> + +<p>The big man paused a moment, his little green eyes flames of suspicion.</p> + +<p>"You'll let me hear from you to-morrow? No shilly-shallying, mind. A +straight 'Yes' or 'No.'"</p> + +<p>"A straight 'Yes' or 'No' to-morrow it is, Glamorgan. Good-night! +Judson, when Mr. Stephen comes in ask him to come to me here."</p> + +<p>After his guest had departed Courtlandt snapped off the lights and +plunged the room in darkness save for the soft glow from the blazing +logs. He sank into a wing-chair before the fire and rested his head on +his thin hand. What a mess he had made of things. He had lost his +inheritance, not through extravagance, but because he had not been +enough of a business man to steer his financial ship clear of reefs +during the last years of swiftly shifting values. To have the Courtlandt +property swept away! It was impossible. He didn't care for himself but +for Steve and Steve's children. He was a liar! He did care for himself. +It would break his heart to have this old home, which had been the +manor, fall into the hands of an erstwhile coal-picker. The town house +was different. The location of that had followed the trail of fashion, +it had no traditions, but this——He rose and paced the floor then +returned to his old place before the mantel and listened. There was the +sound of whistling in the hall, virile, tuneful, the sort that brings a +smile to the lips of the most sophisticated. "The Whistling Lieut.!" +Courtlandt remembered Steve had been called in the army. He dropped his +head to his extended arm and stared unseeingly down at the flames. What +would he say——?</p> + +<p>"Holloa, Sir Peter! Fire-worshiping?" a clear voice called buoyantly. +"You're as dark in here as though you expected an air-raid. Let's light +up and be cheerio, what say?" The speaker pressed a button and flooded +the room with soft light. "Judson said you wanted me. Shall I stay now +or come back when I've changed?"</p> + +<p>Courtlandt senior straightened and looked at his son with the appraising +eyes of a stranger. He admitted to himself regretfully that the boy +looked older than his twenty-seven years. He was tall and lean and +lithe, not an ounce of superfluous flesh on him. He stood with his feet +slightly apart, a golf-bag dragging from one arm, his other hand in his +coat pocket. His black hair had a rebellious kink, his eyes were dark +blue, his nose clean-cut, his lips and chin hinted at a somewhat +formidable strength of purpose. Courtlandt's courage oozed as he +regarded those last features.</p> + +<p>"I—I merely wanted to ask you to give me this evening, Steve. +I—I—well, there's business to be talked over."</p> + +<p>The son looked back at his father. A slight frown wrinkled his broad +forehead. He started to speak, then lifted the golf-bag and went toward +the door.</p> + +<p>"The evening is yours, Sir Peter."</p> + +<p>His father listened till his whistle trailed off into silence in the +upper regions. His dark eyes clouded with regret. Steve had adapted his +selection to dirge tempo.</p> + +<p>As father and son smoked and drank their coffee in front of the library +fire after dinner, Peter Courtlandt found it even more difficult to +approach the distasteful subject. He talked nervously of politics, labor +conditions and the latest play. His son watched him keenly through +narrowed lids. He emptied and filled his pipe thoughtfully as he waited +for a break in his father's flood of words. When it came he dashed in.</p> + +<p>"What's the business you wanted to talk with me about, Sir Peter? Fire +away and let's get it over. Anything wrong?"</p> + +<p>The elder man bent forward to knock the ashes from his cigar. The +gravity of Steve's "Sir Peter" had moved him curiously. It was the name +his wife had called him, which the boy had adopted when he was too +grown-up to say "Daddy." Silent seconds lengthened into minutes as he +sat there. The quiet of the room was subtly portentous. There was a hint +of unsteadiness in his voice when he finally spoke.</p> + +<p>"It's all wrong, Steve. Everything we have is mortgaged to the +gunwales."</p> + +<p>"But I thought——" The end of the sentence was submerged in stunned +amazement.</p> + +<p>"That we couldn't go broke? Well, we have. We lose everything we have +to-morrow unless——" He dropped his head on his hand.</p> + +<p>"Unless what?" prompted Steve.</p> + +<p>Courtlandt leaned his white head against the back of his chair and +looked at his son with haggard eyes. His voice was strained, humiliated.</p> + +<p>"Unless—unless you marry Glamorgan's daughter."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>The exclamation brought Steve Courtlandt to his feet. The color surged +to his dark hair then ebbed slowly back again. His lips whitened.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Sir Peter, you don't know what you're saying! You've +forgotten that we are living in the twentieth century. Marry Glamorgan's +daughter! I've never seen her. I didn't know the old piker had a +daughter. What does he know about me? I've never spoken to him more +than twice and then when I couldn't help it. I don't like him, +he's——"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Steve. Stop raging up and down the room. I want to tell you +all about it."</p> + +<p>The younger man flung the cigarette he had just lighted into the red +coals and dropped into a chair. He kept his eyes on the fading, flaring +lights of the fire as his father told of his interview with Glamorgan. +The muscles of his jaw tightened, his blue eyes smoldered as he +listened.</p> + +<p>"What sort of a girl would let herself be traded like that?" he demanded +when his father paused.</p> + +<p>"That is for you to find out, Steve. I started to have Judson turn the +Welshman out of the house after he made his astounding proposition, to +tell him to go to the devil—then I thought of you. That I had no right +to fling away your inheritance without giving you a voice in the matter. +The Courtlandts have held some of the property since the first of the +family came from Holland in the seven——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know all about those old boys; it is what their descendant is up +against that's worrying me. Have you tried Uncle Nick?"</p> + +<p>The slow color tinged Peter Courtlandt's face.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I've appealed to Nicholas Fairfax twice. But you know as well as I +that he has never forgiven your mother and me for not letting him have +you six months out of every year. He contended that as you, the only son +of his sister, were to be his heir, he should have an equal share in +bringing you up. Your mother and I couldn't see it that way and so——"</p> + +<p>"But I spent every summer there until I went overseas—and, oh boy, how +I worked. While my pals were vacationing I was ranching, and ranching +under Old Nick is no vacation. I'm as capable of running the Double O +now as Ranlett is. Lord, the nights I've come in so stiff that I'd fall +on the bed with my boots on. I'd got to shoot and rope, ride and +round-up, drive a tractor, know the difference in the quality of the +wheat-seed and the grades of cattle. Nick wasn't contented with my doing +things as well as his outfit, I'd got to go them one better. But I loved +the life and I'll confess that I love Old Nick in spite of his fool +ideas."</p> + +<p>"I'll try him once more, Steve—but——"</p> + +<p>"I'll be darned if you will. Isn't there some other way we can raise +money until I——"</p> + +<p>"My boy, what can you do? What can you earn at present? You finished +your law course after you came out of the army, but it will be several +years, as times are now, before you can more than support yourself."</p> + +<p>"You don't think I'd touch a penny of the old coal-picker's money even +if I married the daughter, do you?" interrupted Steve furiously. "I'd +break stones in the road first. Look here, be honest now, what would you +do if we lost this place?"</p> + +<p>"Blow my brains out," with passionate impulsiveness; then as he saw his +son's face whiten and his jaw set, he realized the effect of his words. +"No, no, Steve, of course I didn't mean that. The Courtlandts have never +been quitters. I swear I wouldn't break the record. Forget that +sob-stuff. You and I would go somewhere together and I—perhaps I'll +keep younger if I have less leisure."</p> + +<p>"When are you to give Glamorgan his answer?" Steve seemed the elder of +the two now, seemed to have taken the reins into his hands.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow! Before the girl sees me? Before she has been given a chance +to decide whether the encumbrance which goes with the name and social +position is worth her thirty pieces of silver?"</p> + +<p>"Try not to be bitter, Steve. Remember that when a big man has an +obsession it's in proportion to his bigness, and you'll have to admit +that Glamorgan's a giant in his world. You have a chance to see the girl +before to-morrow. Her father suggested that we run in for supper with +them to-night after the theatre. I have a feeling that the daughter is +willing to sacrifice herself to make the great dream of her father's +life come true, just as you are willing to sacrifice yourself for +me—no, don't deny it,"—as his son impetuously opened his lips. "I +haven't lived with you for twenty-seven years without knowing some of +your mental processes, my boy. If it were only myself I'd tell Glamorgan +to go to the devil, but the property will be yours after me and your +children——"</p> + +<p>Steve interrupted with a short laugh.</p> + +<p>"My children! It's going some to make a mess of my life for prospective +children. Take it from me, they'll keep on playing with the angels for +some time yet."</p> + +<p>"Then don't make a mess of your life. Is—is there any other girl? Are +you in love, Steve?"</p> + +<p>His son thrust his hands hard into the pockets of his dinner coat.</p> + +<p>"I've never been swept off my feet at the sight of a girl's face, if you +mean that according-to-fiction stuff. Before I went across I thought +Felice Peyton——"</p> + +<p>"Felice! But she married Phil Denbigh while you were away and now——" +He stopped in perturbed realization of what had happened.</p> + +<p>"And now they've separated and Felice is cynical and hard. I know that. +I never really approved of her in my heart, her ideas, her ideals—oh +well, she hasn't any; she wouldn't recognize an ideal if it tapped her +on the shoulder. Her plan of life wasn't mine, but somehow I was +eternally tagging after her. Moth and candle stuff, I suppose."</p> + +<p>Courtlandt stared into the fire for a moment before he raised his head +and looked at his son.</p> + +<p>"We won't go on with this, Steve. It's taking too many chances. I'll +tell Glamorgan in the morning that he can foreclose and be——"</p> + +<p>"No you won't, at least not until we have met the daughter. Have you +ever seen her?" then as his father shook his head, "I'll give you a +close-up of the lady. Amazon variety—look at the size of +Glamorgan—little eyes, prominent teeth, a laugh that would raise the +dead and, oh boy,—I'll bet she's kittenish." He glanced at the tall +clock in the corner. "I'll tell Judson to have the sedan brought round. +We'll have just time to array ourselves for the sacrifice, and motor to +town before the theatres are out."</p> + +<p>As the older man's eyes, turbulent with affection and anxiety met his, +he exclaimed with a sporting attempt at a laugh:</p> + +<p>"I'll bet a hat, sir, that when the lady sees you nothing short of being +the Mrs. Courtlandt will satisfy her soaring ambition. She won't stand +for being merely Mrs. Stephen. By the way, what's the prospect's name?"</p> + +<p>"Geraldine. Her father calls her Jerry." Courtlandt senior laughed for +the first time that evening. "That's a great idea of yours, Steve. I +hadn't thought of offering myself. Perhaps as she only wants the name +and position she'd take me and let you off. Your mother would +understand," with a tender smile at the woman over the mantel. Her +lovely eyes seemed to answer his. For an instant a look of unutterable +yearning saddened the man's eyes—then he straightened and looked at his +son.</p> + +<p>"But no, Glamorgan expressly stipulated that he'd have you for a +son-in-law or——"</p> + +<p>The light died out of Stephen Courtlandt's face as he muttered furiously +under his breath:</p> + +<p>"Glamorgan be hanged!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>The telephone in the luxurious living-room of their suite rang sharply +as Daniel Glamorgan and his daughter entered. The girl looked at the +instrument as though she suspected a concealed bomb in its mysterious +depths, then appealingly at her father. He took down the receiver.</p> + +<p>"Yes. All right. Send them up." He replaced it with a click. His grim +mouth softened into a self-congratulatory smile. "Courtlandt and his son +are down-stairs," he announced. "Did you order supper, Jerry?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dad. The table is laid in the breakfast-room. Leon will serve it +when you ring. I'll—I'll go to my room and leave my wrap."</p> + +<p>His green eyes dilated with pride as he regarded her.</p> + +<p>"You look like a princess to-night, my girl."</p> + +<p>"I feel like a princess. They're usually disposed of to a title or some +little thing like that, aren't they?" she asked with a laugh which held +a sob of terror.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Jerry. You're not losing your nerve? You're not going back +on me, are you?"</p> + +<p>She met his eyes squarely.</p> + +<p>"I am not, Dad. The fewer ancestors one has behind one the better +ancestor one must make of oneself. When I make a promise I make it to +keep. I promised you that if Stephen Courtlandt asked me to marry him +I'd say 'Yes.'"</p> + +<p>Glamorgan's eyes glistened with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"You have the right idea, Jerry. Here they are now," as the bell rang.</p> + +<p>"You meet them. I'll take off my wrap—I'll——" In sudden panic the +girl entered her room and closed the door behind her. She leaned against +it. Her heart beat like mad. In the process of making the dream of her +father's life come true was she wrecking her own life? But he had been +such a wonderful father—and—to be honest with herself, the romance and +tradition and social standing of the Courtlandt name made an alluring +appeal to her. She had envied friends at school and college for their +careless references to their grandfathers; her earliest recollection was +of a room full of hot, grimy miners in a little home near the +coal-fields. To marry into the Courtlandt family in America would be +commensurate with marrying into a dukedom in England. She breathed a +fervent prayer of thanksgiving that her father's ambition hadn't urged +him in that direction, also that character had counted with him before +social position when he selected his prospective son-in-law.</p> + +<p>Her shimmering wrap dropped to the floor as she crossed to her +dressing-table and gravely appraised her reflection in the mirror. Was +the girl staring so intently back at her fitted to preside over the +Courtlandt Manor? She tested every detail of her appearance. Her orchid +evening gown set off her arms and the curves of her white shoulders to +perfection. Her hair was of glistening brown, brown shot through with +red and gold where its soft waves caught the light. Her eyes were brown, +large and dark and velvety, like deep pools reflecting a myriad tiny +gold stars now when she was deeply moved and excited. Her mouth seemed +fashioned for laughter. The lips were vivid and exquisitely curved, and +when they smiled a deep dimple dented one cheek. Her ringless hands were +slender and beautifully formed.</p> + +<p>"Dad says that you have Mother to thank for your hands," she told the +looking-glass girl. She lingered before the mirror, aimlessly moving the +gold and enameled appointments on the dressing-table. She dreaded to +enter the next room. Her life might be changed for all time, doubtless +would be, for she would marry Stephen Courtlandt if he wanted to save +his estate enough to take her on her own conditions. She flushed then +whitened. Perhaps he wouldn't want her after all. Well, that would soon +be settled. Better to have the awkward meeting over as soon as possible. +She picked up a large feather fan that was a shade deeper than her gown. +As she touched it she felt armed for any contingency, and not without +reason, for a fan in the hands of a beautiful woman is as effective as a +machine-gun directed by an expert rifleman. Jerry swept her vis-à-vis a +profound courtesy.</p> + +<p>"I'll say you'll do, Mrs. Stephen Courtlandt," she encouraged with gay +inelegance. The laugh still lingered on her lips and lurked in her eyes +as she entered the living-room.</p> + +<p>The three men who had been looking into the fire turned. The girl's +heart went out to the elder Courtlandt in a rush of sympathy. His head +was so high, his face so white, his eyes so full of hurt pride. The +younger man's face was quite as white, his head quite as high, but there +was an aggressive set to lips and jaw, a mixture of amazement and +antagonism in his eyes, then something else flamed there which she +couldn't diagnose as easily.</p> + +<p>"He looks stunned. What did he expect, the pig-faced lady?" the girl +thought contemptuously even as she advanced with extended hand and +smiled up at the elder Courtlandt.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Courtlandt, you seem like an old friend, my father has spoken of +you so often," she welcomed in her charming, well-bred voice which had a +curiously stimulating lilt in it.</p> + +<p>The color rushed back to Peter Courtlandt's face, the expression in his +eyes changed to one of relief and honest admiration as he bent over her +hand.</p> + +<p>"I realize now how much I have lost in not accepting your father's +invitation to call before. Will you permit me to present my son, +Stephen?"</p> + +<p>Jerry crushed down an hysterical desire to laugh. It was so ridiculous, +the casual, pleased-to-meet-you attitude of the three persons whom her +father was moving at his will about the checker-board of life. She +murmured something in which the words "a pleasure" were alone audible. +Steve acknowledged them stiffly. Her eyes met his with their faint +scornful smile which she felt masked so much. They held hers for a +second before she turned to her father.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go out to supper?" With engaging camaraderie she slipped her +hand under Peter Courtlandt's arm. The expression of his eyes when they +had first met hers had won her tender heart. "We'll let the younger set +follow us," she laughed. He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I defy Steve to feel as young as I feel now," he asserted with a +gallant promptness which delighted her.</p> + +<p>At supper she devoted herself to him. He laughed and jested with her and +but for his white hair looked almost as young as his son. Steve, angered +by her persistent avoidance of himself, broke into their conversation +with a banality which caused his father to look at him in amazed +incredulity.</p> + +<p>"Are you enjoying New York, Miss Glamorgan?"</p> + +<p>Jerry regarded him for a moment from under long lashes before, with a +smile which she was sure made him want to shake her, she answered:</p> + +<p>"Immensely; but this is not my first winter in the city. Dad and I have +made our headquarters here since I grew up." She turned to his father, +but Steve refused to be ignored.</p> + +<p>"Do you like it?"</p> + +<p>"Like it? I love it! It's so big, so beautiful and—and—and so faulty," +her pose of indifference had fallen from her like a discarded veil; she +was all eager enthusiasm. "I—I like to be where there are many people. +I would starve for companionship, not food, in the wilderness." Steve +raised his brows and smiled unsmilingly.</p> + +<p>"Then you believe in love?"</p> + +<p>The color burned over her face to her scornful eyes. "He is willing to +marry for money yet he dares sneer at me about love," she thought +angrily, even as she looked up and deliberately studied him. She +laughed a gay little, mocking laugh.</p> + +<p>"Believe in love? Of course I believe in love; don't you? But what an +absurd question to ask. As though you would champion the tender +passion." She saw his eyes darken and his jaw set before she turned to +his father. She was contrite, a little frightened. What had possessed +her to antagonize him like that? A poor way to begin a partnership which +she had hoped would develop into a real friendship.</p> + +<p>"Jerry, take Steve into the living-room and give us some music. Mr. +Courtlandt and I will smoke here," commanded Glamorgan, as his servant, +who fairly exuded efficiency, passed cigars and cigarettes.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—perhaps he would prefer to stay here and smoke," the girl +suggested hurriedly, for the first time losing her poise. She caught a +glint of challenge in Stephen's eyes and rose. Her color was high, her +breath a bit uneven as she smiled at him with bewildering charm. "After +all, why should I make suggestions? You are quite old enough to decide +what you want to do yourself, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Quite old enough and quite ready to decide for myself," he +answered as he stood aside for her to precede him into the living-room. +"Do you play or sing?" he asked as he followed her to the piano. The +instrument looked as though it were loved and used. It was her turn to +be a trifle scornful.</p> + +<p>"I play and sing. Does it seem incredible that I should?" She seated +herself and dropped her hands in her lap. "Shall I play for you?"</p> + +<p>"Please." He leaned his arms on the piano and looked down at her, but +she realized that his thoughts were not following his eyes. "I am not in +the least musical, but we had a chap in our company overseas who could +make the most shell-shocked instrument give out what seemed to us in the +midst of that thundering inferno, heavenly music. Sometimes now a wave +of longing for the sound of a piano sweeps over me, played by someone +who loves music as that boy loved it. Do you know—Schumann's +'Papillions'? That was one of his favorites."</p> + +<p>For answer she played the first bar of the exquisite thing. Once she +glanced up. The eyes of the man leaning on the piano, not blue now, but +dark with memories, were an ocean removed from her. It was a minute +after the last note was struck before they came back to her face. He +drew a long breath.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said simply, but his tone was better than a paean of +praise. Then the softness left his eyes. There was aggressiveness and a +hint of irony in his voice as he said stiffly:</p> + +<p>"My—my father has given me to understand that you will do me the honor +to marry me."</p> + +<p>A passion of anger shook the girl. She valiantly forced back the tears +which threatened, rose and faced him defiantly. Her slender fingers +smoothed out the long plumes of her fan. There should be no subterfuge +now, she determined, no cause for recrimination later.</p> + +<p>"Your father, doubtless, has told you also that my father is willing to +buy your name and social position for me with a portion of his fortune. +A sort of fifty-fifty arrangement, isn't it?" she added flippantly, with +the faintest flicker of her bronze-tipped lashes. Courtlandt shrugged.</p> + +<p>"If you wish to put it so crudely."</p> + +<p>She took a step back and clenched her hands behind her. Her beautiful +eyes were brilliant with scorn, her heart pounded. It seemed as though +it must visibly shake her slender body as she answered:</p> + +<p>"Why not? If we speak the truth now it may save complications later. You +know that my father wants me to marry you and—and why. I frankly +confess that I sympathize with his ambitions. I want the best of life in +my associations. Your father is in difficulties of one sort—my father +is in difficulties of another sort—if a lack of family background can +be called a difficulty—and it appears that with our help they can +accommodate one another. I'd do anything for Dad—he has done so much +for me." She set her teeth sharply in her under lip to steady it.</p> + +<p>"Then—then you are not afraid to marry without love?" His eyes were +inscrutable.</p> + +<p>"Without love? For the man I marry? No, not as long as I have no love +for any other. I might love a man when I married him, and then—love +comes unbidden, oftentimes unwanted and pouf!—it goes the way it came, +and no one can stop it. You know that yourself."</p> + +<p>"Not if it is real love, the love of a man for the one woman," he +defended.</p> + +<p>"Is there such a thing? I wonder?" skeptically.</p> + +<p>If he felt a temptation to retaliate he resisted it.</p> + +<p>"Then I may conclude that you accept me?" he prompted with frigid +courtesy.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is——" a nervous sob caught at her voice. "If—if you will +agree to my conditions. Dad has promised me an income of a hundred +thousand a year. I will keep half of it in my possession, the other half +you are to have to use as you please."</p> + +<p>Courtlandt's eyes were black with anger, his knuckles white. He was +rough, direct, relentless as he answered:</p> + +<p>"You are indeed determined to make this a business affair. But +understand now that I won't touch one cent of your cursed money. +Whatever arrangement your father wants to make with you and my father is +his affair and yours, but you are to leave me out of it absolutely. +That's my condition. Do you get it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I get it." She colored richly, angrily, then paled. Even her lips +went white. "There is one thing more. I—we—this marriage is really a +bargain—money for social position. Let it be only that. Need there be +anything else? You must understand me—you must," in passionate appeal. +She laid her hand on his arm. He looked down at her with disconcerting +steadiness. His face was stern.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand. You mean a marriage stripped to its skeleton of +legal terms. No mutual responsibilities, no mutual sacrifices, no—no +love. That is for you to decide. The Courtlandt debt is far too great +for me not to accept any terms you may dictate. It shall be as you wish, +I—promise."</p> + +<p>Her brown eyes were brilliant with unshed tears as she held out an +impulsive hand.</p> + +<p>"Thank you. You make the arrangements seem bleak and sordid, but you +have given me back my self-respect. Now I feel that it is an honorable +bargain between us two. You are to be perfectly free to come and go as +you like, and I shall be free, too—but there is one thing I promise +you, I—I shall never harm the name I take."</p> + +<p>He looked down at the hand he held for an instant then released it.</p> + +<p>"I knew that when you came into the room to-night. Will you marry me +soon?"</p> + +<p>"Whenever you like. Will you—say good-night to your father for me? +I——" With a valiant effort to steady her lips, she smiled faintly, +opened the door of her room and closed it quickly behind her.</p> + +<p>Peter Courtlandt was the first to break the silence as father and son +motored home. He made an effort to speak lightly.</p> + +<p>"Well, my boy, your close-up was wrong. Geraldine Glamorgan has neither +prominent teeth, nor little eyes, nor a kittenish manner; in fact, I +don't know when I have seen so beautiful a girl so singularly free from +the barnacles of vanity and self-consciousness."</p> + +<p>"Kittenish!" his son repeated curtly. "She's far from kittenish. She's +an iceberg, and what's more she has the business instinct developed to +the nth degree. Believe me, she's a born trader."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>Geraldine Courtlandt slowed down her car to enter the river road. The +sun was setting in a blaze of crimson glory, a few belated birds winged +swiftly into the west. Lights on the opposite shore flickered for a +moment as they flashed into being, then shone with steady brilliancy. +Lights appeared on the few boats swinging at anchor in the quiet water. +Lights in house windows beaconed a steady welcome to home-comers. What +individuality there was in lights the girl thought. Those across the +river seemed entirely municipal and commercial, those on the boats +carried a silent warning, those in the windows seemed warmly human.</p> + +<p>The turmoil in Jerry's heart subsided. She had driven miles that +afternoon through the cold, exhilarating rush of December air, trying to +forget Steve's tone when he had refused her offer to drive him to town +that morning. Had she been married only a month? It seemed as though +centuries had passed since she and Steve had stood before the altar with +their few witnesses and exchanged marriage vows. She shivered. If she +had realized how irrevocable they were, their solemn admonition, would +she have had the courage to marry to please her father, she wondered.</p> + +<p>"And forsaking all others keep thee only unto him as long as ye both +shall live?" The question had echoed in every sound at the wedding +breakfast in her father's apartment; she had read it deep in Peggy's +eyes as they had met hers from across the room; it had kept time to the +revolution of the wheels as she and Steve had motored out to the Manor +in the late afternoon. Her lips twisted in a bitter little smile as she +remembered Sir Peter's tactful suppression of surprise when they had +told him that there would be no wedding journey. She and Steve had +decided that under the circumstances such a function would be nothing +short of farcical, besides he would not ask for leave from the office. +Sir Peter had quite suddenly decided to go on a hunting trip.</p> + +<p>The girl's brows wrinkled in a troubled frown. She knew now that she had +done a grave injustice to Steve, to herself, when she had consented to +her father's proposition. Well, the deed was done, her only course was +to turn her mistake into a stepping-stone toward ultimate good. That was +the one way to treat mistakes remedially, she had learned in her +twenty-three years. Repining proved nothing.</p> + +<p>"Every engaged couple ought to have the marriage service read aloud to +them at least once a week. That would give them pause," she murmured +with fervent conviction. She ground on her brake just in time to avoid +running down a "<span class="smcap">Road closed. Detour</span>" sign. The black letters on the +white board danced weirdly before her eyes for a moment. She must cure +herself of the reprehensible habit of driving with her mind miles away. +She turned into the side road and drove slowly. Detours were notoriously +rough even if they sometimes offered adventure, she thought whimsically.</p> + +<p>The upper windows of the Manor reflected the setting sun through +swaying, bare branches. They shone like molten mirrors as Jerry turned +into the tree-lined avenue which led to the house. At the foot of the +garden slope she caught the shimmer of the river. Already she loved the +place. The great house had "home" writ large all over it. It bulged, it +loomed, it rambled in unexpected places as though it had grown with the +family. And yet, in spite of the additions, it remained a choice example +of early architecture. It was as though a beneficent fairy, versed in +the arts, had presided over the alterations.</p> + +<p>As the girl entered the great hall, where logs blazed in the mammoth +fireplace, she had the sense of being enfolded in warm, tender arms. If +Steve would not be so frigidly courteous she could be quite happy, she +thought resentfully. At breakfast each morning during these interminable +weeks he had politely asked her preference for the evening. Should they +motor to town for the theatre, dance, what should they do? And she, +dreading to bore him more than he was already bored, and hating to face +the curious eyes of his world which had been set agog at their marriage, +had replied to each suggestion:</p> + +<p>"I prefer to remain in this lovely country, but please go yourself. I +really shouldn't be in the least lonely."</p> + +<p>He had refused to take advantage of her suggestion. Every night they +dined together with great formality, she in the loveliest frocks of her +hastily assembled trousseau, he in correct and immaculate dinner +clothes. The only time there seemed the least sympathy between them was +when she was at the piano, in the library, and Steve smoked in the big +chair in front of the fire. He kept so absolutely still, usually with +his eyes on his mother's portrait. Was he dreaming dreams, she wondered. +Had there been a girl without money whom he loved? Did he know what "the +love of a man for the one woman" meant? She should never forget the tone +in which he had asked that question. She was standing in the hall, her +coat off, when she thought of that. She shook herself mentally and +dragged her thoughts back to the present. She spoke to her trim maid who +came to take her coat:</p> + +<p>"Tell Judson to serve tea in the library, Hilda. I—I'm cold."</p> + +<p>She was half-way to the fireplace in the long room before she discovered +that the wing-chair in front of it was occupied, occupied by a queer, +elfish type of man who regarded her with a poorly suppressed snort of +disdain as she paused in surprise. The skin stretched over his high +cheek-bones till it shone like mellowing, yellowing ivory. His colorless +eyes glittered as with fever, his forehead reared to where his coarse +white hair brandished a sort of kewpie-curl. A black cape, of wool so +soft that it looked like velvet, lay across his thin, stooped shoulders. +From under its folds his hands protruded, clasped on the top of a stout +ebony stick. They were gnarled and distorted with rheumatism. His voice, +true to type, was high and slightly cracked as he spoke to the girl +after an instant of peeved scrutiny.</p> + +<p>"So—you're the new Mrs. Courtlandt, the lady of the Manor, are you? +You're the girl who has been traded in to save the family fortune?"</p> + +<p>The angry color flamed to Jerry's hair but she stood her ground. She +even managed to bestow a patronizing frown upon him.</p> + +<p>"Now I know who you are. No one but 'Old Nick' would be so rude. You +see your reputation has preceded you." She sank into the chair opposite +him and with elbow on its arm, chin on her hand, regarded him curiously. +She made a brilliant bit of color in the dark-toned room. The light from +the fire fell on her rose-color sports suit, brought out the sheen of +the velvet tam of the same shade, drooped picturesquely over one ear, +flickered fantastically on her white throat, set the diamonds in the pin +which fastened the dainty frills of her blouse agleam with rainbows and +played mad pranks with the circlet of jewels on the third finger of her +left hand.</p> + +<p>How ill and fragile he looked, the girl thought, pathetically fragile. +She had a passion of sympathy for the old. She would ignore his +rudeness. She leaned forward and smiled at him with gay friendliness.</p> + +<p>"Now that I have guessed who you are it's your turn. Tell me how you got +here. Did a magician wave his wand, and presto, an enchanted carpet, or +did you arrive via air-route? I am sorry that there was no one at the +Manor to welcome you. I was detained by one of those silly detours. Sir +Peter has been away but returns to-night, and Steve—did Steve know that +you were coming? Did—did he write you about—about me?" the last word +was added in an undignified whisper.</p> + +<p>"Steve! Do they ever let Steve tell me anything?"</p> + +<p>"Now I've done it, he's off!" Jerry thought with an hysterical desire to +laugh, he was so like an old war-horse scenting battle.</p> + +<p>"No. The first I knew of you was when Peter Courtlandt wrote that a +marriage had been arranged between the daughter of Glamorgan, the +oil-king, and Steve. Arranged! Stuff and nonsense! What poor fool +arranged it, I'd like to know? Hasn't Peter Courtlandt seen enough of +life to know that when a man who has nothing marries a girl with a large +fortune he's ruined? If he has any strength of character it turns to +gall, if he's a weak party, he gets weaker—it's hell—for a proud man. +Why didn't they give me a chance to save the family fortune? I'd have +done it if Steve had asked me, but I turned his father down—I wouldn't +give a penny to save him. Why—why that boy ought to have married +someone who'd count, not a once-removed coal-picker."</p> + +<p>Furious as she was at his insult, Jerry kept her temper. It was so +pathetically evident that he was old and disappointed and alarmingly +ill. However, there was a hint of Glamorgan's determination in her eyes +as she answered coolly:</p> + +<p>"You may say what you like about me, but I can't let you disparage my +father. He is the biggest thing in my life. After all, why should you +roar at me? Steve and I are not the first victims sacrificed on the +altar of pride of family and possessions, are we? Sentiment is quite out +of fashion. What passes for it is but a wan survival of the age of +romance and chivalry. Marriage in that strata of society to which I have +been lately elevated is like the Paul Jones at a dance, when the whistle +blows change partners—in the same set, if one should happen to go out +of it, pandemonium, quickly followed by oblivion."</p> + +<p>If he was conscious of the sting of sarcasm in her words he ignored it. +His voice was barbed with thorns of irritation as he affirmed:</p> + +<p>"Then it is as I suspected; you're not in love with Steve. So love is +out of fashion, is it? To be scornful of love is the prerogative of +youth; when we get old we treasure it. Well, I warn you now, young +woman, that my nephew shan't live the loveless life I've lived. I was +born rich. Had I been poor and married, had my wife been my working +partner dependent upon me for money, helping me climb, I shouldn't be +the wreck of a man I am now."</p> + +<p>"What a pre-nineteenth amendment sentiment," the girl dared +mischievously. He glowered at her from under his bushy brows.</p> + +<p>"You can't switch me off my subject with your flippancy. I repeat, +Steve shall have love. I'll get it for him—I'll——" He rose and +brandished his stick at the girl. He fell back and leaned his head +weakly against the chair. Jerry leaned over him and smoothed back his +hair tenderly. He looked up at her with fever-bright eyes and gasped +breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"I haven't gone—yet. I shan't go till—I've thought of some way to—to +yank Steve out of this—this damnable Sam Jones ring you talk about. +Give me some tea. Quick! Give it to me—strong. My fool doctor won't let +me have anything else. What's Steve doing? Living on your income?" he +asked as Judson, after fussing among the tea-things, at a low word from +the girl, left the room.</p> + +<p>Jerry's cheeks flushed, tiny sparks lighted her eyes as she countered +crisply:</p> + +<p>"Don't you know your nephew better than to ask that question? He is in a +lawyer's office working for the munificent sum of fifteen per." Fairfax +choked over his tea.</p> + +<p>"D'you mean to tell me that a son-in-law of Glamorgan the oil-king is an +office boy? Between you all you've made a mess of it, haven't you? What +does your father say to that?"</p> + +<p>"He's—he's furious," Jerry answered, as she studied the infinitesimal +grounds in her teacup. She gave the tea-cart a little push which removed +it from between them. She rose, hesitated, then slipped to her knees +before the old man. She looked up at him speculatively for a moment +before she commenced to trace an intricate pattern on his stout stick +with a pink-tipped finger. Her voice was low and a trifle unsteady as +she pleaded:</p> + +<p>"Uncle Nick, be friends with me, will you?" A non-committal grunt was +her only answer. "Steve won't talk to me. He won't listen to reason. +Having made his big sacrifice for the family fortunes by marrying me he +is holding his head so high that he'll step into a horrible shell-hole +if he doesn't watch out. Dad is furious that he won't live and spend +money as befits a Courtlandt, that is, as he thinks a Courtlandt should +live and spend, and with that fine illogic, so characteristic of the +male of the species, takes it out on me. Steve is so—so maddening. He +won't use the automobiles unless he is taking me somewhere, although +they were all, with the exception of my town car and roadster, in the +garage when I came here. He just commutes and commutes in those +miserable trains. Commuting corrupts good manners; he's a—a bear. He +and I are beginning all wrong, Uncle Nick." She met the stern old eyes +above her before she dropped her head to the arm of his chair. "Steve +hates the sight of me and I——"</p> + +<p>Fairfax laid his stick across her shoulders with a suddenness and +strength, which, made her jump.</p> + +<p>"What did you expect? Didn't I tell you that when a poor man marries a +fortune his pride turns to gall? Can a red-blooded man really love a +girl who would marry for position? You're fast getting to hate him, I +suppose?" he demanded in a tone which brought her to her feet and iced +her voice and eyes.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't expect me to be crazy about him, would you? He is cold and +disagreeable and is evidently laboring under the delusion that the world +was created to revolve around Stephen Courtlandt." A contemptuous snort +fired her with the determination to hurt someone or something. "You may +take it from me that if I had the chance to choose again between +disappointing Dad or marrying your precious nephew I'd—I'd disappoint +Dad." She was breathless but triumphant as she flung the last words at +him. He glared at her.</p> + +<p>"So-o, you're a quitter, are you?"</p> + +<p>Jerry's face was white, her eyes smoldering coals of wrath. Her voice +was low with repressed fury as she flung back his taunt.</p> + +<p>"I'm not a quitter. By why couldn't Dad have selected some other +aristocrat for a son-in-law? From what I have observed there are plenty +of them who need money. Believe me, I'm tired of living in this cold +storage atmosphere. I was willing to play fair, willing to keep my part +of the contract——" Her voice failed her as she met his grilling eyes.</p> + +<p>"Are you fulfilling your——"</p> + +<p>"What, Uncle Nick, tea-broken?" interrupted a voice from the door. The +old man struggled to his feet as his nephew came toward him. A smile of +tenderness dimmed the glitter of his eyes. Jerry's heart looped the +loop. How long had Steve been at the door? Had he heard that last +rebellious declaration of hers? How would he greet his uncle? She hoped +that he would be tender, for no matter how disagreeable Nicholas Fairfax +was, he was old and evidently dangerously ill. She was quite unconscious +of her breath of relief as the younger man laid an affectionate arm +about the elder's shoulders.</p> + +<p>"This sure is a surprise and then some, Uncle Nick. Why didn't you let +us know you were coming?"</p> + +<p>"I knew if I wrote, your father'd invent an excuse to put me off, so I +roped Doc Rand and came along. I have no time to waste. I wanted to see +the kind of girl they'd sold you to——"</p> + +<p>"Then you have seen a fine one who did me the honor to marry me, haven't +you?" There was a set to young Courtlandt's jaw which boded ill for the +person who differed with him. "Why not come up to your room and rest +before dinner? Sir Peter returns to-night and you'll want—here he is +now," as the hum of voices in the hall drifted to the library.</p> + +<p>Jerry sprang forward with a radiant smile of welcome as Peter Courtlandt +entered the room. He seized her two hands in his and kissed her +tenderly.</p> + +<p>"It's a good many years since I had a welcome home like this," he +admitted with a break in his voice. "How are you, Steve? Nick, I just +ran into Doc Rand in the hall. He told me that you were here." He held +out his hand to his brother-in-law who responded grudgingly.</p> + +<p>"I suppose he told you a lot of other stuff, too. Well, I'll fool him."</p> + +<p>Jerry gave the hand that still held one of hers a surreptitious squeeze.</p> + +<p>"It's good to have you back, Sir Peter. The house has seemed terribly +big and empty without you."</p> + +<p>"Empty!" echoed Fairfax with his sardonic chuckle. "Fancy a bride of a +month complaining of emptiness in a house without her father-in-law."</p> + +<p>"How does it happen that you have torn yourself away from the ranch, +Nick?" interrupted Peter Courtlandt before Steve, who had grown white +about the nostrils, could speak. "The last time you came on you said +you would never leave it again."</p> + +<p>Fairfax swallowed the bait which never failed to lure him. His western +possessions were his pride, and he welcomed an opportunity to talk of +them much as a fond parent does of his child.</p> + +<p>"Didn't want to leave. Felt it my duty to come and see what you had done +to Steve," he growled. "Greyson, of the X Y Z, is looking after things +for me."</p> + +<p>"Greyson of the X Y Z! Is your ranch near his?" Jerry demanded. A faint +color stole to her face, her eyes were alight with interest.</p> + +<p>"It is. What do you know about it?" Fairfax's eyes were interrogation +points of suspicion.</p> + +<p>"Not much. I met Mr. Greyson last winter, and I——"</p> + +<p>"Met Greyson, did you? Humph! So that's what's the matter with him. I +suppose the daughter of an oil-king looked down upon——"</p> + +<p>"Have you had a profitable year?" interrupted Peter Courtlandt, adroitly +getting between his son and the old man. "They tell me that this has +been a banner season for wheat."</p> + +<p>"They told you right. If the cattle winter safe I shall achieve the +ambition of my life, to own the biggest and finest herd of Shorthorns in +the country. I'll show 'em a thing or two about that breed of cattle. I +tell you, Peter——"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Denbigh," announced Judson at the door.</p> + +<p>Jerry caught the look of consternation which Peter Courtlandt threw at +his son. She saw also the sudden tightening of Steve's lips. What did it +mean? She had met Felice Denbigh once and had been repulsed by her +super-golden hair and super-perfect complexion. Was she an old +sweetheart of Steve's? She took a step toward the smartly gowned woman +who spoke as she crossed the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Courtlandt, you will forgive me for this intrusion on your +honeymoon, won't you? But—but Steve left his gloves in my sedan this +morning when we drove to town, and I came to return them."</p> + +<p>Jerry's mind took a dizzy turn or two then settled down to clear +thinking. She had a curious sense that with the explanation Felice +Denbigh had fired the opening gun of a campaign. So there had been a +reason why Steve had refused to allow her to drive him to town. She +flashed a glance at him even while she murmured welcoming platitudes to +her guest. He had his hand on his uncle's arm.</p> + +<p>"You remember Felice Peyton, don't you, Uncle Nick?"</p> + +<p>"What's that? Felice Peyton, the girl you were forever running after +when you were in college? Well, Miss Peyton, you lost him, didn't you?" +asked the terrible old man.</p> + +<p>"But—but dear Mr. Fairfax, I'm not Miss Peyton now—I married Phil +Denbigh when Steve deserted me and went to war. I——"</p> + +<p>"Philip Denbigh!" The old man rose, straightened himself like an +avenging Nemesis. "Poor devil! So he drew another blank besides that +good-for-nothing philandering mother of his. A mother who wept and +begged until she kept the boy from enlisting, and by some hokuspokus got +him into Class C.—No, I won't stop," as Courtlandt senior laid a +peremptory hand on his arm. "There are a lot of men who are cringing +through life to-day because their women did not love them enough to +cheer them on to fight in the Great Fight."</p> + +<p>Felice Denbigh was white with anger, her eyes tiny green flames. Jerry +flung herself into the breach:</p> + +<p>"Won't you stay and dine with us informally, Mrs. Denbigh? Poor S-Steve +must have been bored to death, surfeited with my society this last +month."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, no." Felice's self-possession was superb. "I shall pay my +respects to the new Mrs. Courtlandt later when she is formally at home. +Good-night, Mr. Fairfax. What a pleasure it must be for the family to +have your genial presence at the Manor. You don't know how happy it +makes me to find that someone remembers Steve's devotion to me. He seems +to have forgotten it. Good-night, Sir Peter. Stevie, will you come and +start that cranky car of mine?" Then, as he reached her side, Jerry +heard her ask softly, "Shall we meet at the same place to-morrow +morning?"</p> + +<p>Nicholas Fairfax must have heard it also, for the girl heard him mutter:</p> + +<p>"Snake!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>As she served coffee in the library after dinner Jerry pondered over +those low-spoken words. The firelight set the sequins on her pale blue +gown glittering like jewels; it accentuated the satiny sheen of her +hair, betrayed the troubled expression in her lovely eyes. Nicholas +Fairfax was in his room. He had collapsed when he went up to dress for +dinner. Doctor Rand, whom he had brought with him, stood back to the +fire stirring his coffee. There was a suggestion of fat and wheeze about +the little man. His weather-stained face had the wrinkled effect of a +quite elderly, quite plump russet apple. His white hair bushed à la +Golliwog. His frock coat was of finest, pre-war broadcloth. The +flamboyant effect of his black necktie made the girl think of the bow on +the neck of a pet kitten. He tested his coffee before he observed dryly:</p> + +<p>"If a man with an under-developed heart-beat and an over-developed +blood-pressure will go chasing half-way across the continent to see a +pretty girl," he bowed with somewhat ponderous gallantry in Jerry's +direction, "what can you expect but collapse? He's crazy about you, +Steve, and somewhere he got the fool notion that you were unhappy. +That's what started him East. I tried to hold him back. I knew the price +he'd pay."</p> + +<p>Stephen Courtlandt came suddenly from the window where he had been +looking out upon the snow-dusted world. He approached the fire. His eyes +looked strained.</p> + +<p>"Then you think he won't rally from this attack, Doc?" he asked +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"It's better for you to know the truth, Steve. He knows. He's wired for +Greyson of the X Y Z and——"</p> + +<p>"Oh-h!"</p> + +<p>The startled exclamation had escaped Jerry's lips before she realized +that she had made a sound. A delicate pink stole to her hair as she met +Steve's steady eyes. Doctor Rand was apparently quite unconscious of the +interruption.</p> + +<p>"And sent for your family lawyer. Your father is with him now. I'll go +and relieve him. Your cookie sure makes good coffee, Mrs. Jerry. Bring +her out to the Double O and invite us old bachelors for eats once in a +while. You'd be doing a charity bigger than some you spend your time on +here, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Courtlandt would starve for people in that wilderness, Doc," +announced Stephen with parrot-like glibness.</p> + +<p>"Would she now? Sure, she doesn't look like a child who'd be so +dependent on chatter. Well, the Double O isn't in the Dude ranch region, +neither is it exactly a wilderness. It's a seething cauldron of society +in comparison to some of the places. You knew that Old Nick and Greyson +had given the Bear Creek ranch to a returned service man, didn't you, +Steve?" then as Courtlandt nodded, "He brought a wife out last spring. +She doesn't have a woman to speak to but she reminds me of a +meadow-lark, little and quiet but with a voice that sings."</p> + +<p>"Do she and her husband live there all alone?" Jerry asked in wonder.</p> + +<p>"Yes—that is—there's a range-rider but—but that's another story." Had +she not thought it quite out of character Jerry would have sworn that +Doc Rand was embarrassed. "We—here I am talking when my patient needs +me. It's all your fault, Mrs. Jerry. You shouldn't have vamped me so +outrageously. Steve, I want a prescription filled."</p> + +<p>"I'll send Carter for it, Doc. Give it to me." He left the room with the +slip of paper in his hand. Rand looked after him, then thoughtfully at +the girl where she sat in the flickering light of the fire. He set his +cup on the tray and patted her hand gently.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind Old Nick, child. He's sick and jealous and—and mad about +Steve—it will all come right. Things have a marvelous unbelievable way +of coming right. That's what I kept telling Fairfax but he wouldn't +listen."</p> + +<p>"Why—why should he hate me so?"</p> + +<p>"He doesn't hate you, he's—he's just afraid for Steve, that's all. He +adored his sister—he used to say that when he found a woman like her, +he'd marry——" he looked up at the portrait over the mantel. Jerry's +glance followed his. The eyes, so like Steve's, were thoughtful, there +was a suspicion of laughter in the curve of the lips, the flesh tints +were marvelously lovely, a string of rare pearls gleamed softly on the +creamy neck. The artist had worked lovingly and had produced a portrait +that was humanly, warmly alive, a spirit that dominated the quiet room.</p> + +<p>"Steve,—Steve and Sir Peter love her like that too, do they not?"</p> + +<p>Rand thrust his hands under his coat tails and flapped them in time with +his heel and toe teeter.</p> + +<p>"Love her! It is more than love. Betty Fairfax, the name clung even +after marriage, makes me believe in immortality. The best of her is +living in Steve and it will be handed on to his children. Her spirit is +just as much alive for her husband and son as it was the day she left +them. That's why Steve has kept straight through temptations which would +have lured most chaps of his age. No one can ever tell me, and get +across with it, that a mother's influence doesn't live forever. That boy +is one of a thousand, isn't he, Mrs. Jerry?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—perhaps, as thousands go." She looked up from under her long lashes +at his discomfited face. Laughter gleamed through the tears which his +tribute to the mother had brought. "You shouldn't pry into the secrets +of a maiden's heart," she teased with exaggerated demureness. Rand +responded to her mood.</p> + +<p>"That's better. A child like you should laugh, not be as serious as +you've been ever since I've seen you. Don't let Nick's condition depress +you. He may live for weeks and when he does go, it will be a release. He +wants it—if—if he can go knowing that Steve's happiness is assured."</p> + +<p>"Is anyone's happiness assured?" asked the girl gravely.</p> + +<p>"No"—he regarded her with his twinkling gray eyes—"but I'll bet my +broncho if anyone's is—it's Steve's. Good-night."</p> + +<p>He was gone before Jerry could reply. Her heart felt curiously warmed by +his words. He—he evidently liked her if Steve didn't. She went to the +piano. Her fingers touched the keys experimentally for a moment, then +she quite unconsciously struck the opening bar of "Papillions." The +music danced and rose with dainty spontaneity. She drifted into Bach's +"Praeludium." Separated chords or flowing melody, she played with a +sympathy and sureness which showed the touch of an artist. She knew when +Steve came into the room and crossed to the window. As the last note +died away she turned. He stood with his hands clenched behind his back. +What was interesting him outside, she wondered. She wanted to speak to +him but she never yet had addressed him by his first name. It seemed +absurd, it was absurd, but she had avoided using it to his face. To +continue the avoidance presented difficulties now that his back was +turned. She usually waited until he looked at her, which she had to +acknowledge was seldom. She ran through the opening bars of "Papillions" +again but his back remained obdurately turned to the room.</p> + +<p>"I—you——" she halted awkwardly, "I would like to talk to you," she +admitted hesitatingly. Courtlandt wheeled and approached the piano.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, don't you know my name that you have to juggle 'I—you——' +when you want to attract my attention?" he demanded belligerently. There +was a defiant gleam in the eyes which met his.</p> + +<p>"It does sound silly, doesn't it—Stevie?" with exaggerated demureness +and an exact imitation of Felice Denbigh's voice. "But—but I know yours +better than you know mine—I think——" then as he opened his lips to +speak she hurried on, "I wanted to ask if you were in love with Felice +Denbigh? No—no—don't mistake me," as his blue eyes darkened to +purple-black, and his lips tightened, "I'm not jealous—really I'm +not—I only wanted you to know that if you are, I'm sorry, terribly +sorry. It's a tragedy to love one person and have to marry another."</p> + +<p>"How do you know? Are you in love with Greyson?" with rough directness.</p> + +<p>His sudden turn of the tables took the girl's breath. She colored +betrayingly. She knew that she must be the picture of guilt as she stood +there, her color coming and going, her heart beating like a silly +tom-tom. There was even a slight unsteadiness in her voice as she +evaded:</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen Bruce Greyson since last winter," then maddened at her +own lack of poise she looked up with frank defiance. "It's a pity that +he doesn't live here. He could motor me to town."</p> + +<p>He flushed darkly.</p> + +<p>"My motoring to town with Mrs. Denbigh this morning was purely +accidental."</p> + +<p>"But—but—you will never go with me."</p> + +<p>"Trolley incomes should avoid limousine ladies."</p> + +<p>"Limousine ladies!" Jerry gripped her temper and controlled her voice. +"Pardon! My mistake," she drawled maddeningly. "Is—is Mrs. Denbigh +divorced?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. What Old Nick said about Phil's mother was true. She did ruin +his life. It would have been better for him and for her had he been shot +to pieces, than to have him as he is now with this gnawing shame at his +heart."</p> + +<p>"She—she was not much like your mother, was she?"</p> + +<p>"Like Mother?" Jerry thought she had never heard anything so beautiful +as that word "Mother" as Courtlandt uttered it. He smiled up at the +portrait—"Mother was—well——" he cleared the huskiness from his voice +and went on, "As I was saying about Denbigh, remorse got too much for +him and a year ago he disappeared, dropped completely out of sight."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't Felice go with him?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know, I fancy that Phil didn't want her."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless she had married him. One doesn't take the vow 'and +forsaking all others' to break it, does one?" gravely.</p> + +<p>"I deduce from that that you do not believe in divorce?"</p> + +<p>"Divorce! While I acknowledge that there may be situations where it is +unavoidable, I hate the word. Always to me it takes on the semblance of +Medusa's head in my school mythology, its snaky, hissing locks striking, +stabbing, stinging, scarring indelibly. I believe in keeping covenants."</p> + +<p>"It's hard sometimes."</p> + +<p>"It is, but life isn't intended to be all joy-ride. I've found that +out."</p> + +<p>"You mean——"</p> + +<p>"Nothing which need make you glower at me like that," defiantly. "Do you +know, I fancy," with an exact imitation of his earlier voice and manner, +"that the future first families of America's 'Who's Who' will be those +who can count back at least four generations of ancestors who have, in +spite of disappointment and disillusion, poverty or riches, sickness or +health, kept their marriage covenants. A curious idea, isn't it? It just +came to me. 'A little thing but mine own,'" her tone changed from +earnestness to flippancy on the last words. She syncopated a few bars of +"Papillions" as though to emphasize her indifference.</p> + +<p>Courtlandt thrust his hands hard into the pockets of his dinner coat. +The atmosphere tingled with electricity. The girl wondered if he were +throttling a desire to shake her. She hoped so. He met her eyes steadily +for a moment before he turned to leave the room. Jerry took a hasty +step after him.</p> + +<p>"Wait, please—if—if——" as he kept on she added desperately, "Steve, +please." He stopped and turned. "If—if you should see Dad—do not +mention the fact that Bruce—that Mr. Greyson's ranch is near your +uncle's."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" relentlessly.</p> + +<p>"Because in an attack of homesickness last winter I became engaged to +him."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>In the music-room of the Manor the rugs had been rolled back, the voice +of the phonograph released from captivity and the Courtlandts' guests +were dancing, at least some of them were. Sir Peter had beguiled +Glamorgan to the library for a smoke. The oil-king had cast a gloom over +the dinner. Was it because he was disturbed about Nicholas Fairfax, +Jerry wondered. To the amazement of all, he and the ranchman had become +great friends. It would be like her father to be irritable if he were +moved. Perhaps it had been the arrival of Greyson which had infuriated +him. Last winter he had quickly made her see the folly of her engagement +to the owner of the X Y Z, and now she was grateful to him. She had +known at the time that she did not love Bruce Greyson, but that she was +in love with love. In a way her life had been a lonely one, and when he +had pleaded with her to marry him, she had agreed to a tentative +engagement. Now she was glad that she had kept him at a distance, even +in those two weeks.</p> + +<p>She looked up at Greyson as he sat beside her in one of the deep +embrasures of a window. A distinguished looking man, he gave the +impression of having lived in great spaces, of having achieved +worth-while things, of being absolutely poised and self-assured. His +dark hair was tending toward neutral at the temples, his keen blue eyes +had fine lines radiating from them, which denoted long-distance gazing. +The weather-beaten texture of his skin was emphasized by the immaculate +white of the shirt and collar of his up-to-the-minute dinner clothes.</p> + +<p>Peggy Glamorgan, as she danced with her brother-in-law, was doing +direful things to the heart of young Don Curtis, whose family estate +adjoined the Manor. She was a charming, younger model of her sister, +except that where Jerry's eyes were brown, Peggy's were a somewhat +elfish hazel. She was making the most of a week-end freedom from school +discipline. Steve Courtlandt's glance wandered to the two in the deep +window. Peggy looked up at him with tormenting concern.</p> + +<p>"That's the second time you've lost step, Steve. I protest. I hate being +trodden on." Her laughing eyes and mischievously curved lips robbed the +words of their sting.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry! Give me one more trial, Peg-o'-my-heart, and I'll do +better," promised Steve. He had taken an immense liking to the girl, she +was so genuine, so unaffected, so brimming over with the zest of +living.</p> + +<p>"Nothing doing, brother. Go get Jerry. It's a part of her job to put up +with your poor dancing, isn't it? A part of the love, honor and obey +stuff? Catch me saying 'I will' to that. Jerry's different. She'd walk +over the proverbial ploughshares if she thought duty called." She looked +across the room to where her sister sat and added softly, "It's a queer +trick of fortune that Bruce Greyson should be your uncle's confidential +man and should come to this house."</p> + +<p>"Why accent this?" demanded Steve Courtlandt bluntly.</p> + +<p>Peggy flushed guiltily beneath his stern eyes.</p> + +<p>"That's only my exclamatory style. I meant that it was strange that +Jerry should meet him here after—after—I—I wonder if that was what +made her cry last night?"</p> + +<p>"Did Jerry cry last night?"</p> + +<p>"She cross-my-throat-and-hope-to-die swore she didn't, this morning, but +her lids were suspiciously pink. Didn't you notice it? Thank you, I +should love it," she responded to young Curtis who had been impatiently +hovering in the offing. "There really isn't much fun dancing with old +married men," she confided in a tone intended to reach Steve. She made +an impudent little face at her brother-in-law over her partner's +shoulder. He smiled and blew her a kiss as she danced away but her +words hurt, hurt because he knew that she was right. He felt years older +than he had that epoch-making October night when his father had revealed +to him the state of the family finances, and had presented the means +whereby it could be remedied. Had he chosen wisely, he wondered; +wouldn't it have been better to let the property go than to have married +a girl who had so quickly acquired an aversion for him?</p> + +<p>He looked across at the two engrossed faces in the window. He'd break +that up. Jerry should remember where she was and not give occasion for +silly gossip. Already Felice Denbigh, who had motored out from town for +dinner, had called his attention to Greyson's apparent devotion. With +eyes combative, Steve strolled to where Jerry sat.</p> + +<p>"Will you dance with me, Mrs. Courtlandt?" he asked with aggressive +formality. In the midst of a sentence, she looked up in startled +surprise. Greyson rose.</p> + +<p>"I have committed the unpardonable blunder of monopolizing my hostess, +Steve," he apologized, "but the temptation to live over a perfect +friendship was too great to be resisted. I will beg a dance from your +sister, Mrs. Courtlandt."</p> + +<p>Jerry's eyes followed him as he crossed the room. They made Steve think +of deep, troubled pools when she looked up at him. Was it because Peg +had put the idea into his head or did they look as though they had known +recent tears? Was she finding her marriage a bar to happiness already? +His face was a trifle white, a trifle grim as he reminded:</p> + +<p>"Do we dance?"</p> + +<p>Without answering she rose, and he put his arm about her. Except for +taking her hand it was the first time he had touched her. How slender +she was, how soft, how graceful. He could feel her heart pound heavily +against his breast. One might think that she was frightened, but with +him—that was absurd. Her dancing like her walk was perfection of +motion. He was careful of his steps as they danced down the long room. +Jerry should have no occasion to echo Peg's reprimand. She stopped.</p> + +<p>"Tired?" he asked solicitously, his senses still throbbing from the +appeal of music and dance. She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Tired! I don't know what it is to be tired. Some of our guests are not +dancing. Mrs. Denbigh is quite alone and looking horribly bored. Peg +seems to have appropriated more than her share of men; she is +surrounded. Don't you think that as host you should dance with Felice?"</p> + +<p>"Presently. I have something to say to you first." He changed his +position so that he stood between her and the others in the room.</p> + +<p>"Why did you cry?"</p> + +<p>She crimsoned even under the tiny curls at the nape of her white neck.</p> + +<p>"I! Crying! How absurd. You really should go and dance with your +guest——"</p> + +<p>"Not until you tell me why you cried."</p> + +<p>"But I haven't been crying."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes you have. I——"</p> + +<p>"Supper is served in the library, Mrs. Courtlandt," interrupted Judson +of the velvet tread. As they left the room in the wake of their guests +the butler detained Stephen Courtlandt and said something in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"Has Mr. Greyson gone up?" he asked hurriedly and when Judson answered +in the affirmative he turned to Jerry:</p> + +<p>"I must go to Uncle Nick. I may not be down again."</p> + +<p>"Is he——" but he was mounting the stairs two steps at a time before +Jerry had finished the sentence. With a feeling of foreboding she +entered the library. The guests were grouped around the fire with Judson +and a maid serving supper. She stopped in the shadow of the doorway. +Up-stairs the spirit of an old, weary man was passing, here—the room +and its furnishings made a rich background for the shimmering satin of +dainty gowns; the firelight played mad pranks with jewels at white +throats and on pink fingers, with the glittering buckles on silver +slippers; bright eyes were laughing into eyes that pleaded or compelled, +young voices were teasing, challenging.</p> + +<p>Jerry's breath came unevenly. She had cried last night. It was a rare +indulgence for her. She could not tell now why. How could Steve have +known? She hoped that none of these chattering boys and girls suspected +it. She looked about the room. How she loved it! It stood for all the +background she had acquired by her marriage. She loved the old +seventeenth century Courtlandt, she held long, one-sided conversations +with him when she was sure that she was quite alone. He had given her to +understand that a <i>marriage de convenance</i> quite met with his approval, +that in his day girls married to please their parents. She wasn't so +sure of the judgment of Steve's mother. Her eyes, so like her son's, +looked down with a grave question in their depths when she appealed to +her.</p> + +<p>The group around the fire made room as they welcomed her with gay +reproof for tardiness. Felice Denbigh inquired impatiently for Steve. +Jerry made his apologies and explained his absence. The voices of the +guests became hushed. One by one they left, almost tiptoeing through the +hall. Peggy snuggled up to her sister when the two were alone.</p> + +<p>"Has—has Uncle N-Nick—gone?" she whispered. Then as Jerry shook her +head, "If—if he does will you come and sleep with me?"</p> + +<p>"I will, dear, but there is nothing to frighten you. Why should there be +in the passing of an old man's spirit?"</p> + +<p>"But—but he was such a cross old man. What has made you so brave, +Jerry? Once you would have dreaded it as much as I—being here at a time +like this, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is the hours I have spent in the hospital with the sick and +wounded soldiers. I have seen so much and felt so much, that death has +seemed beautiful, not terrible. Go to bed, child. I'll come in later and +stay with you."</p> + +<p>She went down the hall. "But he was such a cross old man!" Peggy's +obituary of Nicholas Fairfax echoed persistently in her mind. What a +tragic thing to have said about one. She couldn't blame her sister. Old +Nick had been consistently disagreeable to her and Peg was too young to +take into consideration his age and illness. She lingered for a moment +before the door of the room in which Nicholas Fairfax lay. Could she +help? The nurse came out suddenly and almost collided with her.</p> + +<p>"Goodness, Mrs. Courtlandt, you gave me a start! I was just coming for +you. Mr. Stephen sent me. His uncle wants you."</p> + +<p>With her breath coming hurriedly, her heart pounding, Jerry followed +the woman. What could Old Nick want? To continue his insults? She passed +into the inner room. The window was open to let in the clear winter air. +The old man was raised high on his pillows. Steve held one of the +gnarled hands. Courtlandt was behind him. Greyson, as rigid and +immovable as one of the mountains of his own country, stood at the foot +of the bed. Doctor Rand, his face grave and deeply lined, motioned the +girl to take her place opposite Steve, then he and the nurse and Greyson +moved back to the outer room. As Jerry bent over him, Nicholas Fairfax +looked up into her eyes. They met his tenderly. The tenseness of his +expression relaxed, he fumbled for something under his pillow. Jerry +reached for him and drew out an open prayer-book. His shaking finger +pointed to the page; it was the marriage service.</p> + +<p>"Read that—read that—aloud," he commanded in a voice which still held +a ring of power.</p> + +<p>Slipping to her knees beside the bed the girl read. Haltingly, huskily +at first, but as she lost thought of self in the beauty and meaning of +the words her voice cleared.</p> + +<p>"'Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together +after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony and forsaking all +others keep thee only to him as long as ye both shall live?'"</p> + +<p>The gnarled, claw-like hand fell on the book. The Old man leaned +forward. His voice, weaker now, interrupted:</p> + +<p>"'And forsaking all others keep thee only to him as long as ye +both—shall live,' did you mean it, girl, when you made that vow?"</p> + +<p>Jerry's face was colorless. There was a broken exclamation from Steve. +She laid her hand gently over the icy hand on the book. Her young ardent +eyes met his dim ones steadily.</p> + +<p>"I did, Uncle Nick."</p> + +<p>He dropped back with a faint sigh.</p> + +<p>"Then it will be all right—Steve. I was afraid—that I might have—but +I meant it for the best—it will come right Doc Rand says—things will +come right—marvelously—unbelievably—right!"</p> + +<p>His voice trailed off into silence. The lines of pain and weakness in +his face disappeared as though a soothing hand had been laid upon them. +The curtains at the open window stirred for a moment and then were +still.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>Caleb Lawson paused in the reading of the will of Nicholas Fairfax to +peer over his half-moon spectacles. His pursed lips made a red, bulbous +blot on his pale face as he regarded the three persons in the library at +the Manor. Outside an ice-tipped vine struck with a ghostly tap! tap! +tap! against the diamond-paned window. Geraldine sat beside Peter +Courtlandt. Stephen stood with his back to the fireplace. The sunlight +which streamed in at the window touched the girl's hair and transformed +it into a crown of bronze with curious red and gold lights. The lawyer's +gaze lingered on her for a moment before he cleared his throat with a +force which sent a premonitory thrill down the spines of his hearers and +resumed the reading of the bulky document he held.</p> + +<p>"'Lastly, all the rest, residue and remainder of the property both real +and personal of which I may be possessed or to which I may be entitled +at my decease, I give and devise to my nephew Stephen Courtlandt, to him +and his heirs forever, on condition, however, that he take possession +and management of my ranch in the State of Wyoming not later than three +months after my decease and live there one year with his wife Geraldine +Glamorgan Courtlandt. And on the further condition that his said wife, +during said year, shall refuse to receive income from the fund her +father has provided for her, and shall dispose of all securities and +money she may have. If my nephew Stephen Courtlandt or his wife, +Geraldine Glamorgan Courtlandt, fail to fulfil any one of these +conditions said property shall be divided as follows:'"</p> + +<p>The lawyer laid down his papers and looked over the edge of his +spectacles at Stephen Courtlandt.</p> + +<p>"There is no need of my reading that long list of beneficiaries until I +know your decision, Stephen. If your father will take me to his study +we'll leave you and Mrs. Courtlandt to talk it over."</p> + +<p>"You may proceed with the reading. I refuse to accede to the +conditions," Steve announced with grim lips.</p> + +<p>"Steve," his father protested, "think it over before you say that." He +looked imploringly at the girl beside him but her eyes were fixed on the +interlacing fingers which lay passively on the lap of her black gown. +"Talk with him, Jerry. Don't let him fling this away recklessly," he +pleaded. "Come, Lawson, we'll leave the young people to thresh this +thing out."</p> + +<p>He followed the lawyer from the room and closed the door. Stephen poked +viciously at the coals in the fireplace till a fountain of sparks +sputtered up the chimney. Then he backed up against the mantel and with +a face from which every drop of color had drained, looked down at the +bent head of the girl he had married. He laughed shortly.</p> + +<p>"Old Nick had a genius for messing things up, hadn't he? When I heard +the first clause of that will, which related to me, even when the +condition followed that I was to live on the ranch for a year—nothing +but a mad sense of freedom thrilled me. I would be my own man once more, +rich enough to pay back to your father every cursed cent he had loaned +on the Courtlandt property and then have a living income. I could——"</p> + +<p>His eyes burned, the veins stood out on his forehead. Jerry realized for +the first time the sacrifice of pride and happiness he had made for his +family name. She finished the sentence for him:</p> + +<p>"You could have your marriage annulled."</p> + +<p>He looked at her steadily.</p> + +<p>"That did not enter into my plan. Why, oh why, did Uncle Nick have to +wreck the whole thing by involving you? I wouldn't take you if you would +go. You married me for what I could give you socially. A lot I could +give you out there in the wilderness."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, I shall go with you."</p> + +<p>"What! Why, by your own confession you would starve for people in a +wilderness."</p> + +<p>"Do you want this fortune?"</p> + +<p>"More than I ever wanted anything—except one—in my life."</p> + +<p>Jerry whitened at his amendment.</p> + +<p>"I suppose that one thing was Felice. In spite of that I shall go with +you. I shall fulfil my part of the conditions and after you have +fulfilled yours then—then we'll consider."</p> + +<p>He strode over to her, seized her hands and pulled her to her feet +beside him. His face was white, his eyes searching.</p> + +<p>"Peg said that you would walk over burning ploughshares if you thought +duty called; she's right. But—but I shan't let you make the sacrifice."</p> + +<p>"You can't help yourself if I am determined to go. You don't want to +start a scandal in high society, do you, by refusing to take me? I don't +care to go any more than you care to have me," bitterly, "but—but I +promised. Uncle Nick knew what he was doing when he made me read that +marriage service, 'and forsaking all others'—I shall be doing that all +right. But it was not a fair-weather vow. If your interests take you to +the ranch I shall go with you."</p> + +<p>"What will your father say?"</p> + +<p>She shrank away from him but he still had her hands in his and drew her +back. Her lips curved in a disdainful smile.</p> + +<p>"I think—I think we shall have what the miners used to call a +'helofarow.'"</p> + +<p>"He will never consent to your going."</p> + +<p>"What difference will that make? How can he prevent it? He cannot take +back what he has given your father. That is all that need concern you," +with exasperated frankness. He flushed darkly at her tone, dropped her +hands, and touched a bell. When the butler opened the door he commanded +curtly, "Judson, ask Mr. Lawson and my father to come here."</p> + +<p>When the two men appeared in answer to the summons Glamorgan was with +them. His face was deeply flushed, his little green eyes snapped with +anger.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Jerry, what's this I hear about your going off on a ranch? +It can't be done, I tell you. Steve doesn't need that—that old +mischief-maker's money," his voice broke queerly, but he steadied it and +went on, "Why doesn't he stay here and spend mine?"</p> + +<p>"You are quite right, Mr. Glamorgan. I have been trying to impress your +daughter with the fact that she need not take her marriage vows +literally. I am content to eat the crumbs which fall from my rich +father-in-law's table."</p> + +<p>"Steve!" Peter Courtlandt protested brokenly.</p> + +<p>Jerry faced her father. Her black gown brought out the pallor of her +face and throat. The only color about her was the vivid curves of her +lips; even her usually brown eyes were black.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry if it hurts you, Dad, but I shall go with Steve. He is +entitled to his uncle's fortune. What is a year out of our lives? +Nothing. I—married to please you. Now I shall interpret my marriage +vows to please myself." She was most lovely as she defied him. His green +eyes contracted to emerald sparks. The veins stood out on his forehead +like cords. Jerry remembered that it was the first time one of his +children had gone contrary to his command.</p> + +<p>"What will you do for money? That infernal will strips you of +everything. Ask Steve for it? I can see you. Come, Jerry, give this +thing up. Settle down here at the Manor and be happy."</p> + +<p>For the first time since she had come into the lives of the Courtlandts +Jerry looked like her father. There was the same determination about her +eyes, about her lips.</p> + +<p>"Be happy! Does smooth going necessarily mean happiness? Does jogging +along on the path beaten by our social set mean happiness? Do you know +how I feel, Dad? It is as though Steve and I had come up against an +enormous sign-post bearing the startling information, <span class="smcap">Road Closed: +Detour</span>. The detour may be hard going, detours usually are, but they also +offer more thrills and adventures than the broad highway. I'm willing to +take a sporting chance if—if Steve wants me——"</p> + +<p>Young Courtlandt laid his hands lightly on her shoulders and looked down +at her with inscrutable eyes.</p> + +<p>"I do want you, but remember, if I win out, half of what I have will be +settled unreservedly on you. You will have earned it." She looked up at +him for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Then when you have rewarded me for being a good girl and have paid back +Father, you will consider yourself in a position to snap your fingers at +the Glamorgans?" He looked down at her with disconcerting steadiness as +he answered cryptically:</p> + +<p>"I shall consider myself in a position to dictate terms to one member of +the family. Mr. Lawson, I accept the conditions of my uncle's will."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>With each stop of the cross-continent train rain-coated men, with +occasionally a woman, entered the car and passed down the corridor to +disappear into the compartments. Porters wearing that air of authority +and responsibility for which one might justly look in a premier or +secretary of state, came and went; conductors punched tickets and +answered questions more or less amiably; the wheels rattled and roared +and ground ceaselessly; outside the rain descended with a persistence +worthy a better cause.</p> + +<p>From the window of her compartment Geraldine Courtlandt looked out upon +a drenched world. There was nothing to see save a dense white sheet ten +feet beyond the window. In an hour she and Steve would reach their +destination, the first stop on the detour, she thought with a sudden +mist before her eyes. She hoped that the storm was not an omen of what +lay before them. She shook herself mentally. "Don't be silly and +superstitious," she admonished that Jerry Courtlandt who persisted in +having a queer lumpy feeling in the region of her throat whenever she +thought of the curious twist the apparently broad, straight road of her +marriage had taken.</p> + +<p>Her father had maintained his attitude of angry aloofness. He had not +come to the station to see her off, she had waited on the platform until +the train started, hoping that he would relent at the last moment. He +had sent a curt typewritten note to the effect that if she and Steve +regained their common sense and returned to the Manor before the end of +the year he would double the income he had allowed them. There were a +dozen glorious American beauties in her compartment when she entered it. +The roses had set the atmosphere tingling with life and color and love. +Jerry laughed happily and kissed each one of them. How like her father +it was to write the note with one hand and send flowers with the other.</p> + +<p>What difference would it make if her income were doubled if she were +disloyal to the promise she made when she married Steve, the girl +thought, as chin on her hand she gazed unseeingly out at the rain. "An +easy conscience is more to be desired than great riches," she +paraphrased to herself as she thought of the weeks when she had been +engaged to Greyson. Her heart still smarted with contrition as she +remembered how ashamed she had been that she could make so little +response to the love he lavished upon her. "Never again!" she said +aloud. "I've made two mistakes, Bruce and Steve. From now on I'll do +what I know to be right even if I hurt someone else and—and hate doing +it. But—but just what shall I do for money?" she questioned with +puckered brows.</p> + +<p>She opened her beaded bag and poured the contents into her lap. "How are +the mighty fallen!" she quoted with a laugh as she looked down upon the +collection displayed. A handkerchief, one gold pencil, the key to her +safe-deposit box, the membership card of her club, a book of postage +stamps. Nothing else. She had carried out the terms of the will in +letter and spirit. After her bills had been paid she had transferred her +bank balance to her father and had dropped her remaining cash into the +box of a Salvation Army lassie as she entered the station to take the +west-bound train. The woman in the red-banded pokebonnet, standing on a +board to keep her stout boots from the dampness, had looked at the bills +crushed into her box, then after the donor incredulously. Such lavish +generosity was rare in her experience.</p> + +<p>Jerry frowningly regarded the objects in her lap. Not one cent of money. +"Being marooned on a desert island has nothing on being marooned on a +ranch without a penny," she mused under her breath. She hastily stuffed +her belongings back into her bag as she heard an approaching whistle. +It was Steve. The queer merry-go-round of fortune had accomplished one +thing, it had restored Steve's spirits. Since leaving New York he had +been a different person from the morose, touchy individual she had known +since her engagement to him. He had been companionable, sympathetic in a +fraternal sort of way which had made her wish fervently that Fate had +given her a brother instead of a husband.</p> + +<p>"Won't you come in?" she asked as Courtlandt stopped at the open door, +then as he entered, "Is it time to get on my coat?"</p> + +<p>"Not for half an hour." He seated himself opposite her. There was a new +expression in his eyes which set the girl's heart to beating +uncomfortably. She couldn't define it, she couldn't meet it long enough +to define it.</p> + +<p>"Jerry," there was an "'tention company" note in his voice which brought +her chin up defiantly, "I suppose—if you complied with the terms of +Uncle Nick's will you must be rather down and out financially—yes?" She +succumbed to the lure of his smile and the laughter in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Thought telepathy," she responded gayly. "I was taking account of stock +when you appeared. I have in this bag, one pencil, one handkerchief, one +perfectly good club-membership card—good, that is, until January +first—and a book of two-cent stamps. Those stamps won't imperil our +hopes of the inheritance, will they?" she asked with exaggerated +anxiety. "Caleb Lawson held me up before I boarded the train. I had to +sign a paper and show him my empty purse to prove that I was really the +Beggar-maid, bare-pursed instead of barefooted, following my King +Cophetua out into the cold, cold world."</p> + +<p>"Your simile is faulty. As I remember it the Beggar-maid loved the +King."</p> + +<p>"Also the King loved the Beggar-maid. You're right, the similarity +ceases with my lack of funds."</p> + +<p>"I shall open an account for you in the bank at Slippy Bend. Until +then——" his hand went to his pocket. The girl's face whitened.</p> + +<p>"Don't offer me money, Steve," she commanded tensely.</p> + +<p>"I'm not offering money. I am giving you what belongs to you. Aren't you +earning what Uncle Nick left as well as I?"</p> + +<p>"Weren't you earning your share of Father's money when you married me?"</p> + +<p>"That's different."</p> + +<p>"Why? You refused to take my money. I refuse to take yours."</p> + +<p>"You will take it."</p> + +<p>Jerry leaned forward, her face as colorless as his.</p> + +<p>"Take that 'Hands up!' expression out of your eyes, Steve. I shall not +take a cent of your money. You will find that a Glamorgan has as much +pride as a Courtlandt if she hasn't several generations of aristocrats +behind her." Her angry eyes blazed as he retorted laughingly:</p> + +<p>"You forget. You're not a Glamorgan now."</p> + +<p>She shrugged lightly.</p> + +<p>"More's the pity."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that?" Consternation banished the smile from his lips. He +caught her hands in his. "The day Uncle Nick arrived I heard you +say——"</p> + +<p>"Nex' stop Slippy Bend, Miss. Porter for your bags," interrupted a +Jamaican voice with a Chicago accent. Jerry's face flushed with relief +as the black head with its gleaming eyes and teeth bobbed in at the +door. She pointed to the bags. As the man went out with them she turned +to Courtlandt with an embarrassed laugh.</p> + +<p>"You've won this time, Steve. I had forgotten the porter. You'll have to +tip him and the maid for me. However, as this is really a deferred +wedding-trip the expenses naturally fall to the groom, don't they?" with +reckless daring.</p> + +<p>He looked at her until her laughing eyes fell before the glow of his.</p> + +<p>"You've said it—if this can be called a wedding-trip—but take it from +me, sometime, Mrs. Courtlandt, I'll show you what a real honeymoon can +be. Porter, here's another bag."</p> + +<p>He followed the black man into the corridor. Jerry settled her smart +toque and pinned on her veil before the mirror, but she couldn't see her +own face, only Steve's with that curious I'm-biding-my-time look in his +eyes. What had he meant about a honeymoon? Did he mean that he and +Felice—no, <i>no</i>, Steve was not that kind. She looked about the +compartment to make sure that she had left nothing. Three roses still +glowing with beauty remained of the dozen. She pinned them to the front +of her coat. She would take so much of her father into her new life with +her.</p> + +<p>The wooden shanty which served as a shelter for telegraph, freight and +passengers at Slippy Bend was as depressing as rain, flapping shingles +and a skewed roof could make it. The road which struggled up a slope to +hide between two shabby buildings was a river of mud. A knock-kneed man +with a string of slat-ribbed calico horses and cayuses following him, +waded downward through the middle of it. Every few steps he would stop +to yank a howling, red-eyed bulldog from a hole which had betrayed him. +Jerry valiantly blinked back the tears as she watched him. She had never +seen anything quite as sordid and depressing as her surroundings. The +only note of civilization in the dreary scene was the large, curtained +touring car by the platform. As she looked at it, two legs, which had +acquired Queen Anne curves from many hours spent in the saddle, wriggled +from under the curtains followed by a large body. A Belgian police dog, +tawny, noble, aloof, followed the man. Courtlandt who had been busy with +the luggage turned with a boyish laugh and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"It sure is great to be back, Pete. Down, Goober, down, boy!" to the dog +who, after an uncertain second, had leaped to lick his face. He kept one +hand on the animal's head as he turned to the girl beside him. "Jerry, +this is Pete Gerrish, who taught me all I know about ranching. He is +Uncle Nick's right-hand man. Pete, this is Mrs. Courtlandt."</p> + +<p>"He's got me wrong, ma'am. I <i>was</i> the old gentleman's right-hand man, +but Ranlett's in the saddle now. I'm sure pleased to meet you an' I hope +you'll be downright happy with us."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Gerrish." Jerry felt the tears absurdly near as she +looked up at him. He was regarding her with unqualified approval. His +large face was cross-currented with fine lines and smiles; his Stetson +came close to ears which looked as though the Almighty had designed them +as hat-rests and had made a surprisingly good job of it. He carried the +marks of his calling in the devil-may-care poise of his body, in his +clothing, in his rollicking Irish eyes.</p> + +<p>"I'll give Baldy Jennings a hand with the trunks to get 'em out of the +rain till the boys get here for them. They're teamin' in. How the devil +did yer expect to get all them things out to the ranch over these spring +roads, Steve—I would say Chief? The boys has decided that even if they +did teach the new owner most of what he knows about ranchin', it won't +do to be familiar-like no more. So we've decided to call him chief, +ma'am," Gerrish inserted the bit of information to Jerry in the midst of +his dissertation on the condition of the roads. "I went up to the hubs +gettin' here with no load. By cripes, I don't know what'll happen goin' +back."</p> + +<p>Jerry was tempted to echo that "By cripes!" later, when the big car +laboring through what seemed rivers of mud, foundered in a hole. She +unfastened the curtain and looked out. Goober on the running-board, +plastered with mud, looked like nothing so much as a model sketchily +done in clay as he peered down inquiringly. Gerrish expressed himself in +language which the girl was sure was being painfully expurgated because +of her. The wheels groaned and choked as they churned up fountains of +mud. As she watched the wheel under her Jerry could think of nothing +but a gigantic egg-beater gone mad from the futility of its efforts. The +back of Gerrish's neck had taken on a dangerous, apoplectic color +generated, doubtless, by restraint from the fullest self-expression.</p> + +<p>"Would it help if I got out?" she ventured in the lull while the engine +rested.</p> + +<p>"Haw! I guess if yer did we'd have to haul you out in a hurry or send a +rescue-party through to China," Gerrish discouraged while Courtlandt +commanded:</p> + +<p>"Stay where you are! I'll take the wheel, Pete. We have nothing to put +under the back wheels; it would do no good if we had. The engine will +have to do the trick."</p> + +<p>He threw on the switch. The engine started. The spinning wheels hitched +forward, he reversed, hitched forward, reversed, hitched forward till +Jerry experienced all of the discomforts, and none of the stimulation, +of being aboard ship on a high and choppy sea. Courtlandt grimly pursued +his tactics till with a roar from the motor and a lurch which sent +Jerry's teeth into her lower lip, the car, looking like an uncanny +prehistoric animal which had been wallowing in a mud bath, dragged +itself from its hole, skidded with hair-raising irresponsibility, came +back to the road and struggled on. The rain stopped. The sky showed +shapeless spots of light where the clouds were thinning. Vapors floated +lightly above the fields.</p> + +<p>It was twilight, a crimson and gold twilight, when Courtlandt turned +into the avenue of cottonwoods which led to the ranch-house of the +Double O. The air was fragrant with fresh washed earth and the spicy +breath which the storm had beaten from the pines. From somewhere a +meadow-lark trilled an ecstatic greeting and as though frightened at its +temerity as suddenly subsided. The naming color in the west might have +been the glow from a blazing forest, but it was only the sun flinging +its good-night over sky and fields and mountains in the whole-hearted +Western way. Against the red light squatted the shadowy shape of the +ranch-house.</p> + +<p>When the car stopped Goober sprang to the porch and stood as if awaiting +orders. In the background hovered two Chinese servants, a man and a +woman. Their slant-eyes in their moon faces were ludicrously alike. The +woman in her gay silks and embroideries looked like a painting on +rice-paper.</p> + +<p>Pete and Hopi Soy carried in the bags. At a nod from Courtlandt the +woman followed. Steve held the door wide. With a curious choked feeling +Jerry entered the house. Then her emotion found vent in a little cry of +delight. After the grayness and mud of the ride out the great +living-room glowed like a jewel. The color stole through her senses like +an elixir and rested and refreshed her. Her eyes shone, her lips curved +in a faint smile as she looked about her. The servants had disappeared. +She and Steve were alone.</p> + +<p>Logs blazed in the great stone fireplace. Safely out of scorching +distance a white cat dozed in front of it, her fluffy coat rosy in the +firelight, her wide eyes like blinking topaz as she regarded the +newcomers. Gorgeous serapes from old Mexico, Hopi saddle-blankets, +heavily beaded garments of the Blackfeet, Apache bows and quivers full +of arrows, Navaho blankets, skins of mountain lions and lynx there were, +each one placed in artistic relation to its neighbor. A profusion of +books and magazines, a baby-grand piano, a phonograph <i>de luxe</i>, softly +shaded lamps, added their note of civilization to the array of savage +trophies and over the mantel——</p> + +<p>"Why, Steve! There's Mother!" whispered Jerry softly.</p> + +<p>For a silent moment the man and girl standing side by side looked up at +the tender, laughing face of the woman in riding costume. She didn't +seem like a thing of paint and canvass, she was real, vital, alive and +welcoming. Jerry was the first to stir. She colored with confusion.</p> + +<p>"Steve, I—I beg your pardon! I—I shouldn't have called her—mother. +But I was so—so surprised. It seemed for a moment as if she held out +welcoming arms to me." She turned away. Courtlandt gripped her shoulders +with a force which hurt.</p> + +<p>"She is your mother—I——" he released her abruptly and threw open a +door. "These are your rooms. Mine are opposite. You see we have but one +story in the ranch-house. Your bags are in your room. Ming Soy will come +to help you when you ring." He put his two hands on her shoulders again. +"I'm glad that you wore my roses."</p> + +<p>"Your roses! Why I thought—I thought——" Her voice was drenched with +disappointment. Steve's face was a mask, only his eyes seemed alive as +he removed his hands and asked crisply:</p> + +<p>"That they came from Greyson?"</p> + +<p>"No, Steve, no! How could you think such a thing? I thought that Dad had +relented and—and had sent the roses to——" she winked her lashes +furiously but not before Steve had seen the diamond-like drops that +beaded them. His voice was tender as he comforted:</p> + +<p>"Your father will come round, Jerry. Just believe with old Doc Rand that +things have a way of coming marvelously, unbelievably right. You are not +sorry that you came, are you?"</p> + +<p>"I'll say I'm not!" She had essayed an imitation of his voice and words +but the emotion which had threatened her all day surged in her heart and +betrayed her. Steve caught her hands in his.</p> + +<p>"Don't look like that, little girl. You're going to love the life here +and the ranch and—and—and Goober," he added with a short laugh as the +dog bounded into the room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>Jerry Courtlandt sent her horse up the slope and came out on a bluff +above the Double O. As the girl sat motionless looking off over the +plain, an artist would have labeled the picture she made, "A Study in +Browns," before he slipped it into his mental portfolio. Her mount, +Patches, was a deep mahogany in color, her riding boots were but a shade +lighter than his satin skin, her breeches and long coat were of khaki, +her blouse was fawn color, her eyes were deeply, darkly bronze. +Rebellious tendrils of lustrous brown hair escaped from under the broad +brim of the campaign hat she wore, one of Steve's army hats with its +gold and black cord. He had insisted upon her using it. The hats she had +brought to the ranch had been urban affairs, not designed to shade her +eyes from the glare of white roads. As she had had no money with which +to buy another she had taken it.</p> + +<p>Jerry pulled it off as she took a deep breath of the glorious air +asparkle with bubbles of life. She loved the spot. Every day that she +rode she stopped to look down upon the valley. Far away among the +foot-hills a silver stream cleft rocky bluffs, then coiled and foamed +its way until it broadened and flashed in gleaming waterfalls. In places +where it boiled and frothed rustic bridges had been thrown across. +Toward the east lay the sturdily built stock corrals, storehouses spick +and span with whitewash, towering silos. Toward the west were fenced-off +alfalfa fields and beyond them a mosaic of varicolored pasture-lands, +dotted with grazing herds, stretched out to the foot-hills.</p> + +<p>Beyond the foot-hills loomed mountains darkly green with pine and spruce +to the timberline, above which reared sombre, forbidding rock until +against the ragged edge of gold-lined clouds, white peaks flamed crimson +in the slanting sun. Toward the north she could see the gap in the +mountains through which the railroad cut. The gap was known as the +Devil's Hold-up because of the natural facilities it had offered—and +still offered for that matter,—to the class whose pleasing pastime it +had been to maintain their divine right in the other man's property at +the point of a gun.</p> + +<p>Almost beneath her, approached by a broad, well-graded road, lay the +ranch-house. Telephone wires from all directions rounded up the +activities of the Double O at the office near by. The house was a +rambling structure of rudely squared timbers set in fieldstone and +cement. Its one story was built around a court on which many doors +opened and which was gayly brocaded with shrubs and plants in blossom +this late June day.</p> + +<p>Where was Steve, Jerry wondered, as her eyes lingered on the office +building. She saw him less and less as the days passed, as more and more +he assumed the responsibilities of the Double O. He was off before she +was up in the morning riding the range or in the dairies or barns until +night. She had hardly believed her eyes when on the evening after her +arrival, she had seen Steve and Tommy Benson, his secretary, come into +the living-room in dinner coats. Courtlandt had answered her unspoken +question with the explanation that it had been Nicholas Fairfax's +unvarying rule to shed ranch problems at night, and he had found that +getting into the dress of the city helped. A man just naturally would +curb an impulse to toddle down to the corral if he were in dinner +clothes. The two didn't seem to go together.</p> + +<p>Steve had appointed Tommy Benson her squire, he himself had so little +time to give her. A laugh curved Jerry's lips as she thought of Tommy. +He was a slight youth with a face of one of Raphael's cherubs grown up +and a book for his inseparable companion. His almost yellow hair was +short and wavy, his eyes were a brilliant blue, his skin was as nearly +pink and white as human skin can be after it has been ranch-seasoned, +his lips seemed made for laughter. He and Steve had been officers in +the same company and when they returned from overseas the two had gone +to the ranch to recuperate. Tommy had remained there to please his +mother. He was in the throes of a virulent attack of stage fever and +Mrs. Benson had begged him to wait a few years before he decided upon +acting as his career. She had assured him that if after reflection he +still felt that it was the profession for him she would attend his +première without a qualm. So he had stayed at the Double O. There was +plenty of money back of him and he had grown to love the ranch life, +apparently.</p> + +<p>Tommy was taking the responsibility of training the lady of the ranch +seriously, that is as seriously as a boy could who was forever +expressing his emotions and convictions in the words of the immortals, +Jerry thought with a smile. She had ridden since she was a little girl +but Tommy was making her proficient in some hair-raising stunts. Steve +didn't know of those but he had ordained that she was to learn to saddle +Patches, that she must be able to fasten and unfasten gates securely +while mounted, that she was to rope and shoot from her horse's back.</p> + +<p>Her days were full but filled with her own pleasures. She did nothing +for others, she thought ruefully as she gazed down upon the smoke rising +from the cook-house chimney. Her only link with the outside world was +Sandy, the carrier, whose appearance sent her imagination winging into +the past whenever she saw him. The queer little postman wore a tall gray +hat which, Tommy Benson insisted, was a left-over from the wardrobe of +Gentleman Rick whose zeal as a promoter of pleasure in Slippy Bend in +the nineties had lured men through miles of wilderness. Jerry often sat +on the wall beside the mail-box to await his coming. He always had news +and a quaint bit of philosophy if he hadn't letters. Letters! There +weren't many for her. She had had hosts of friends in school and college +but she heard from them seldom now. Her conscience administered a +vicious pinch. Yes, it was quite all her fault, she answered it. The +girls apparently had adored her, but she had been unable to accept their +devotion with single-minded pleasure. Always in the back of her mind had +skulked the ghost of that first home near the coal-fields. Would they +have cared for her could they have seen that? After her marriage events +had moved too rapidly for her to pick up the scattered lines of her +correspondence. However, she no longer had that excuse, her days now +were long and uneventful. She would write to every friend she had. It +would be like sending out a fleet of ships. How eagerly she would await +the return cargoes.</p> + +<p>She broke into her own good resolutions with a laugh. To send out +letters one must have stamps. She had used the last one she possessed +yesterday and to get more she must have money. "Money!" Jerry laughed +again as she repeated the word aloud. Conditions were reversed now as to +money, she thought as she stared unseeingly off at the mountain tops +which pricked the crimsoning sky. Steve had the income from his uncle's +large property as long as he remained on the ranch. It would not be his +unreservedly until a year from the day they had arrived at the Double O. +She had persistently refused to accept money from him. If she wrote to +the girls she would need a regiment of postage stamps. If she could +earn——</p> + +<p>Her eyes flashed earthward from the mountains as she heard the click of +a hoof against rock and the creak of saddle leather. A horse and rider +topped the slope. It was Courtlandt on his favorite mount, Blue Devil, a +horse all spirit, shining blue-black satin. He was a regal creature from +his flowing mane to his silken fetlock. He nosed Patches who showed an +undignified haste to snuggle up to him in return.</p> + +<p>"Did you think you had lost me, Steve?" Jerry asked gayly as she noted +the seriousness of his blue eyes and the crease in his forehead which +his broad-brimmed Stetson was not drawn low enough to hide. How +unnecessarily good looking he was in his riding clothes, she thought. He +wore a black tie with his khaki shirt, his heavy riding breeches were +tucked into the tops of high boots which laced up the front and had +curious sloping heels. He had removed one of his riding gloves and the +dark stone of his ring, which bore the seal of the Courtlandts, made the +browned hand seem white in contrast. He gave the impression of being +absolute master of his horse and of any situation which might arise. +Jerry's heart unaccountably skipped a beat as he answered her question.</p> + +<p>"No, I saw you from the road. You looked like one of Dallin's bronzes. +Where is Tommy?" with quick displeasure.</p> + +<p>"Don't glower. I sent him back. I don't want him always at my heels. I +love to come up here alone and, figuratively speaking, look down upon my +blessings."</p> + +<p>"Was that what you were doing when I came up? Your expression belied +you. Instead of looking beatific, you looked worried."</p> + +<p>She laughed up at him with warm friendliness as she bent forward and +confided in a theatrical whisper:</p> + +<p>"You are right. I was figuring finances. I have just——" The color +flew to her face as she thought of what he might infer. She stumbled on +quite conscious that she was making matters worse. "I'm about at the end +of my stamp book and—and—I've developed a sudden fervor for letter +writing and—and——" she broke off her breathless explanation as he +laid his finely-shaped hand on her saddle-bow. Even back in the Manor +days his hands had fascinated her.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad that you've brought up the subject of finances, Jerry. The +money question between you and me has got to be cleared up, and cleared +up now. You've had your way long enough. Don't be foolish any longer, +little girl, I——"</p> + +<p>"I shall not take your money, Steve. Would you take mine?" then as his +eyes darkened stormily, "Oh, truly, I didn't mean to rouse sleeping +dogs—but—but I won't take it. I do nothing for you—if I even had +anything to do about the house but Ming and Hopi Soy run the household +motor noiselessly, perfectly, with every cylinder hitting. If there was +anything I could do——"</p> + +<p>"There is something you can do."</p> + +<p>Jerry's heart flew to her throat. What did he mean? He looked grim and +determined.</p> + +<p>"W-what is it?" she asked faintly. She put on her hat, tightened her +reins unconsciously.</p> + +<p>Courtlandt laughed. The sternness left his face. There was an +expression in his eyes which she couldn't translate as he teased:</p> + +<p>"Don't run, Jerry. You don't trust me over much, do you? To return to +finances, if you want to help you can do so tremendously by taking over +the accounts and my correspondence. Tommy's had that job but I need him +outside. Ranlett's leaving. You'll soon get the hang of the accounting +and it won't take much of your time."</p> + +<p>"But if it took all I'd love to do it, Steve. Shall I have a desk in the +office?" she asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"If you agree to accept a salary."</p> + +<p>"But I don't want to be paid for helping."</p> + +<p>He turned his horse's head toward the slope.</p> + +<p>"That settles it. I shall send to the agency to-morrow for a private +secretary." As she did not answer he looked at her with a smile which +lighted eyes and lips. "Now will you be good?"</p> + +<p>She regarded him with oblique scrutiny. With an adorable imitation of +Pete Gerrish she drawled:</p> + +<p>"You're sure puttin' it straight, Chief. You win. Now shall we mosey +'long home?" With a touch of spurs she wheeled Patches and headed him +down the slope.</p> + +<p>"Why is Ranlett leaving?" she asked as their horses trotted side by side +along the hard white ranch road. Courtlandt's face reddened darkly.</p> + +<p>"Because I thought it time to determine the status of the alien on +Double O ranch. Ranlett had a couple of men in the outfit who have not +taken out first naturalization papers, even, who had been pointing out +to my boys deficiencies of the government. They're flares set here to +ignite any chaff of discontent which may be blowing about."</p> + +<p>"But you're not against freedom of speech, Steve?"</p> + +<p>"You bet I am against the inflammatory brand on the tongue of an alien. +What is he in this country but a guest? If a man came to stay in my home +and began a systematic undermining of the ideas and ideals on which that +home was built, what do you think I'd do to him?"</p> + +<p>"I'll say you'd sure put him out, Chief," with Gerrish's drawl and a +little rush of laughter.</p> + +<p>"I'll say I would. So quick he'd wonder what struck him. Why should the +government put up with their vicious patter? It's bad enough when an +honest-to-God citizen breaks loose and turns red, but for a man who is +here by courtesy—well, as I remarked before, there is no place for him +on the Double O ranch. Aliens will keep their jobs here only so long as +they conform to my ideas of fitness."</p> + +<p>"You're right, Steve. I have never thought of agitators in that light +but they are a sort of human slow-match timed to fire a mine of +discontent, aren't they? And half the time the mine doesn't know what +it is blowing-up about. How do the men feel about Ranlett's defection?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't asked them. What's the infernal row?" he demanded as they +drew rein at the gate of the court. Jerry looked at him in surprise. His +tone was that of a man whose nerves were taut to snapping point. She +slid from her horse and dropped the reins. Patches loped quietly but +determinedly in the direction of the corral and supper. Blue Devil, with +a reproachful glance at the deserter, followed daintily in the steps of +his master as Courtlandt and the girl entered the garden. The court was +a riot of plants and shrubs. The air was sweet with the fragrance of +roses just coming into bloom and rent by agitated yelps and a hoarse, +croaking voice.</p> + +<p>When Jerry and Steve reached storm centre they saw a combination of +scarlet, blue and green, swaying precariously on the top of a shutter. +It was José's parrot, Benito, flinging to the breeze the most +vituperative epithets a rich and racy vocabulary could suggest. Below +him Goober sat on his haunches. Between barks his tongue dripped, his +mouth hung open as though in riotous laughter. His tawny eyes flashed +ruby light. Tommy Benson, his finger between the pages of a book, his +hair rampant, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth, egged on the two as +he quoted from his favorite "Ancient Mariner":</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'The wedding guest sat on a stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He could not choose but hear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus spake on that ancient man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bright-eyed mariner.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>His eloquence incited the bird to renewed effort to express his +sentiments. Jerry clapped her hands over her ears and dashed into the +house. Steve whistled. The dog bounded in his direction, his quarry +forgotten in the joy of seeing his master. Courtlandt seized him by the +collar.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, you sinner?" he demanded sternly. Goober looked as +though he were about to offer an explanation when the gaudy parrot, who +had been rocking back and forth on the shutter, croaked:</p> + +<p>"Lick him, Bo! Lick him!"</p> + +<p>Tommy dropped to the ground and rolled with laughter. José came hurrying +out of the house. He swept off his hat with a wide bow. His face had the +look of a much-shriveled mummy, his solitary tooth waggled precariously +as he talked.</p> + +<p>"<i>Que hay! Señor!</i> One teeng I tell you. It ees that wild devil of a dog +that makes my leetle Benito to curse. <i>Madre de Dios</i>, but he ees +one—one——"</p> + +<p>"You've said it, José," encouraged Benson as he sat up and wiped his +eyes. He took his knees in an affectionate embrace. "He sure is one +little curser, that Benito of yours. Want me to help get him down?"</p> + +<p>"No—no, Señor Tommee. He come to me." He reached up and after a few +protesting squawks the parti-colored bird settled on the Mexican's +shoulder. As José left the court with him, the parrot shivered, flapped +his wings, winked at Tommy and croaked hoarsely:</p> + +<p>"What's all the shootin'?"</p> + +<p>Tommy gave vent to a whoop of appreciation before he turned to +Courtlandt, who was regarding the ranch-house door unseeingly. He gave +him a resounding whack on the shoulder as he ranted:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'How is't with you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you do bend your eye on vacancy?'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Quit your histrionics, Tommy. Has Pete Gerrish been here for me?"</p> + +<p>"Nope. Nothing doing." Benson stroked Blue Devil's satiny nose and +rested his face against it as he asked in a low tone, "Any news of those +stray calves?"</p> + +<p>Courtlandt's brows met in a quick frown.</p> + +<p>"No, but of course we'll find them. It's absurd to think a man can get +away with rustling in this enlightened twentieth century, that we've +got to revert to shooting and——"</p> + +<p>"That's what the majority of the world claimed in 1914," interrupted +Benson dryly.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a blamed pessimist, Tommy. I'm going to take you off the books +and use you outside."</p> + +<p>"Oh boy!" he voiced the twentieth century equivalent to the nineteenth +century "Great Scott!" in delighted approval. "If you do that and +Ranlett has been crooked, he hasn't a prayer. I'm the original Sherlock +Holmes. Watch me get him! Pete's boys have all they can do now without +turning detectives. You'd think that Gerrish had just been put in charge +of a new outfit. He's on location every minute, reëstimating the number +of head each pasture should carry, weighing up the stock, sifting out +the undesirables. Take it from me, old dear, he knows every calf by +name, what it's worth now and what it will bring one year from now. He +claims that Ranlett has been underselling. I'll ride the fences +to-morrow. If you say the word I'll take Jerry along and we'll have a +corking time."</p> + +<p>"You and Jerry usually have a corking time together, don't you?" Benson +showed his teeth in a flashing smile.</p> + +<p>"I'll say we do. I don't like to talk about myself, but——"</p> + +<p>Courtlandt laughed.</p> + +<p>"You don't care for yourself one little bit, do you, Tommy? By all means +take Jerry if she cares to go. Beat it down to the corral with Blue +Devil, will you? That is if you dare ride him," Steve amended with a +laugh.</p> + +<p>Tommy mounted with the agility of a monkey, wheeled his horse and +declaimed theatrically:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I dare do all that may become a man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who dares do more is none!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<blockquote><p>"Work is the grandest cure for all the maladies and miseries +that ever beset mankind.—<span class="smcap">Carlyle.</span>"</p></blockquote> + + +<p>Jerry nodded approvingly at the quotation above her desk in the office. +It had been hung there in Old Nick's day and was quite as pertinent in +her case as it might have been in his. To be sure, their maladies +differed. His couldn't by the remotest possibility have been lack of +money, she thought with a laugh.</p> + +<p>Steve had installed her at her desk two weeks ago and had then forgotten +her, presumably. Tommy Benson was giving her instructions as to her +duties, but even his attentions were episodic. Ranlett had departed +swearing vengeance in the good old nineteenth century style and Steve +and Gerrish were out from morning till night taking account of stock and +checking up. Tommy was riding range and being general utility man. +Neither he nor Steve knew how closely she had remained at her desk. She +must make good and she must accomplish it without taking too much of +Tommy's time. As Steve had insisted upon paying her a month's salary in +advance she had surreptitiously sent for a correspondence course on +bookkeeping. She was making Sandy's life miserable because the material, +which she expected would make her efficient in twenty-four hours, had +not arrived.</p> + +<p>Arms on the back of her swivel-chair, one knee in the seat she twisted +slowly about. The room inspired the same sense of breathless interest it +had the first time she entered it. Two walls were encased in glass. +Behind the glass hung a collection of riding equipment and firearms. +Some of the pieces dated back to the epoch-making journey of the +pathfinders, Lewis and Clark, some to the first white settlers in the +region west of the Mississippi. There were saddles rich in silver +filigree which had come from the southwest of the cattle country; there +were saddles with short round skirts, open stirrups, narrow and rimmed +with iron; some had borders and emblems stamped on the leather, some had +dark stains. There were chaps, fringed and unfringed, in infinite +variety. There were coiled ropes of rawhide and of well worn grass; +there were guns and knives and tomahawks, there was a stained and +tattered Stars and Stripes.</p> + +<p>"You fairly ooze atmosphere." Jerry mused aloud, her dreamy brown eyes +on the saddles. "If you could speak what couldn't you tell of romance +and comedy and tragedy. Herds, bad men, <i>voyageurs</i>, rustlers, settlers, +prairie-schooners and Indians, you must have seen them all." Her voice +had dropped to a whisper. Its tenseness roused her from what was fast +becoming a vermilion orgy of imagination. She swung her chair round and +dropped into it with a laugh and the reflection, "Pete Gerrish says that +when a person talks to himself he's sure in for adventure."</p> + +<p>She picked up a typewritten letter and regarded it with vainglorious +elation. Not so bad! There was a spiral effect at the end of one +sentence but on the whole it was a creditable affair for a person who +had never used a typewriter till the week before and who was relying on +the hunt-and-punch method for progress. Her already flushed cheeks took +on a deeper tinge as she looked at the filing cases. Would she ever +acquire a feeling of even bowing acquaintance with them, she wondered; +they were most awe-inspiring.</p> + +<p>The sun lay warmly on the fields outside, a gay little breeze spiced +with pine danced in at the open window, stirred the curls at the nape of +the girl's neck and whisked out again. Jerry looked out longingly, shook +her head. "Remember, you're a daughter of toil now," she adjured the +vagabond impulse which urged her to be up and away on her horse. She +resolutely turned her back on the tempting out-of-doors and picked up +her letter.</p> + +<p>"'Gentlemen,'" she read aloud, "'We are shipping'—now why should I have +typed that slipping—'thirty head of Guernseys on the——'" A shadow +from the open door fell on her paper. Absorbed in her corrections, she +spoke without looking up from her desk:</p> + +<p>"You are wanted at the Lower Field, Pete. The Chief just 'phoned that +more calves are missing. That——" as no colorful ejaculation followed +her announcement, Gerrish swore with fascinating facility when he was +deeply moved, she looked up in surprise. The smile which the thought of +Pete had brought stiffened on her lips. She sprang to her feet and +pushed back her chair. A man leaned against the door, a giant of a man +fully six feet two. In a flash she sized him up. He was of different +caliber from the "boys" of the outfit. No one of them would have stood +with his hat on in her presence. The stranger's Mexican sombrero, pushed +far back on his head, revealed rough red hair; his eyes were a hard +blue; his nose suggested the beak of a hawk; his mouth was his best +feature, it looked as though it might have been tender before the +insidious processes of discouragement and recklessness got in their +work. One temple gave the impression of having been knocked in and from +the dent to the corner of his lips ran an angry, wrinkled scar. It +contributed a curiously saturnine expression to what in youth might have +been a pleasing face. From feet to waist his clothing was reminiscent of +the army; from the belt up it might have belonged to a rider, even to +the gay purple and crimson bandana at his neck. The stranger smiled +boldly as his eyes met the girl's. Jerry's heart did a handspring and +righted. A fleeting cloud of apprehension dimmed the brilliance of her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"If you are looking for a job you'll have to come back after five," she +volunteered with her best in-charge-of-the-office manner. "The manager +is off on the range." She could have cheerfully bitten out her tongue as +she noted the smile with which the man received the information.</p> + +<p>"I'm no cow-puncher," he answered disdainfully. "I'm not hunting a job +here. I'm looking for the railroad. I took the ranch road by mistake, +but, now that I am here——" He straightened his great shoulders, pulled +his soft hat jauntily over one ear with his big hairy hand, and took a +step into the room. "Well, you're too pretty a girl to be left alone, +<i>sabe</i>? I always had a taste for stenogs."</p> + +<p>Jerry's heart did another turn. She hated the man's eyes. Hers flashed +to the desk. There was no use trying to telephone, he might stop her; +besides, the ranch was an affair of magnificent distances; it would take +time for anyone she called to reach the office. Ming and Hopi would be +of as much assistance as two Chinese dolls. She must depend upon herself +to get rid of the creature. She swiftly computed the relative splashing +values of the ink-well and the pot of paste. The ink had it. Her hand +crept along the desk.</p> + +<p>"Don't come any nearer. If you're wise you'll go at once."</p> + +<p>"I get you. Here's-your-hat-what's-your-hurry stuff, yes? But I think +I'll stay. I've just come up from the border. You're the handsomest +white girl I've seen in months. Come on, be friends. I like that +gilt-edged effect in your hair and eyes. Take it from me——"</p> + +<p>Jerry was white to the lips. She lifted the ink-well.</p> + +<p>"You'd better go or I——"</p> + +<p>"What's your business here?" a crisp voice interrupted from the door.</p> + +<p>"Steve!"</p> + +<p>With the startled whisper the stiffening departed from Jerry's knees. +She sank back in her chair. The stranger wheeled with military precision +then, in a startled voice laden with pride and affection, cried:</p> + +<p>"<i>Comment ça va, mon Lieutenant!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Carl! Oh boy, Carl, where did you come from?"</p> + +<p>The undertone in Courtlandt's voice brought the tears stinging to +Jerry's eyes. Steve gripped the stranger's hand as though he would never +let it go. The two patted one another's shoulders with their free hands +and beamed with suspiciously bright eyes.</p> + +<p>"What good wind blew you here, Beechy?" Steve demanded. "Jerry, this is +Carl Beechy, who was my top sergeant in France. That scar he wears was +intended for me, and—and—he took it. Carl, this is my—this is Mrs. +Courtlandt."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Courtlandt! Your wife, Lieutenant? <i>C'est drôle, ça!</i> +I—I—thought——" The girl had never seen such contrition as clouded +Beechy's eyes as they met hers. There was not a trace of recklessness in +them now; they were frankly pleading. She hesitated for a moment, then +smiled.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad that you came to the Double O, Sergeant Beechy. It was +fortunate that you arrived when you did, Steve. Mr. Beechy was just +going. You—you might not have recognized him had you met him on the +road." Her lips twitched traitorously as her glance flashed to the +ink-well on the desk.</p> + +<p>Beechy's eyes sent her a wireless of passionate gratitude and +admiration. Then he turned to Courtlandt.</p> + +<p>"You are the last person I expected to see here, Lieutenant."</p> + +<p>"Weren't you looking for me, Carl? I told you——"</p> + +<p>"I know, you told me to look you up, but—two years is a long time and +I've found men forget. I went to Mexico after I left hospital. I've been +drifting till now——" He broke off the sentence sharply. His face had +the curious look which tanned skin has when the blood has been drawn +away from it. Jerry could have sworn that there was fright in his eyes. +Did Steve see what she saw? Evidently not, for he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"When you didn't turn up I thought you'd re-enlisted."</p> + +<p>"Me! Nothing doing, Lieutenant. The next time my country calls it'll +have to call so loud that I'll hear it at the other end of the world. +No, me and the U.S.A. is through."</p> + +<p>"That's fool talk, Beechy. I've heard it before. If you were needed you +and every man who talks like you would be the first to answer the call +to the colors. I know you. You jumped in at the first sign of trouble. +You'd do it again. Well, there's a job for you right here."</p> + +<p>The man's lips stiffened. A look of dog-like devotion flooded his eyes.</p> + +<p>"That's just like you, but—but I can't take it, Lieutenant. I've signed +up for—for something else, and you know—there's—there's honor among +thieves," with a strained attempt at levity which was belied by his +eyes. He looked at Jerry. "I never knew what a man could be till I met +the Lieutenant, Mrs. Courtlandt. I'd always thought that a rich guy was +bound to be soft, but he's tested steel. I've got to beat it this +minute. I—I was telling your wife when I came in, Lieutenant, that I +was looking for the railroad and took the ranch road by mistake."</p> + +<p>"But you can't go, Beechy. Good Lord, man, you've got to eat somewhere, +at least stop for chow. Come along to the bunk-house. I want the boys to +know you." He turned to Jerry. "Did you get hold of Pete?"</p> + +<p>"No, I couldn't reach him. I—I thought that it was he when Mr. Beechy +appeared."</p> + +<p>"Let it go then." He looked at her keenly. "Have you been out of the +office this week? I thought not," as she colored faintly. "Don't do any +more work to-day—please. Let's go, Carl."</p> + +<p>Beechy turned to Jerry. He twisted his hat awkwardly in his big hands.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Mrs. Courtlandt. I hope that you'll—you'll——"</p> + +<p>Jerry held out her hand with a smile.</p> + +<p>"I shall always remember what you did for your lieutenant, Sergeant +Beechy. Good luck; if you don't like the railroad come back to us." He +gripped the hand she extended. Jerry gave his a warning pressure as she +looked up and saw Steve regarding them intently. With a squeeze which +made her see fifty-seven varieties of stars and their collateral +branches, Beechy released her hand.</p> + +<p>"Let's go, Lieutenant."</p> + +<p>Jerry looked after the two as they strode away broad shoulder almost +touching broad shoulder. Had they been girls they would have their arms +around each other's waists, she was sure. What strange friendships the +war had welded. Braggadocio had slipped from Beechy like a garment the +instant he recognized Courtlandt's voice. He had assumed an entirely +different personality. Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. The soldier was a much +safer citizen than the man of peace, she told herself with a reminiscent +shiver.</p> + +<p>She picked up the papers on her desk, then dropped them. Steve had been +emphatic about her going out. Suddenly she felt that she couldn't endure +four walls a moment longer. She must be in the open. She pulled down the +top of her desk and dashed through the flowering court to the house. +She called Ming Soy to bring lunch to her room. She telephoned the +corral to send up Patches.</p> + +<p>In her cool, silvery gray linen riding clothes Jerry drew an ecstatic +breath as she gave Patches his head. He pirouetted for a moment then +settled to a steady canter. On all sides spread fields and pastures in +luxuriant greenness. Beyond them mountains swept to hazy, purple +heights. In one of the fields a rider turned and looked at her as she +passed. She leaned forward in her saddle, opened a gate and closed it; +she hoped the man had noticed with what ease it had been accomplished. +Great blooded Shorthorns turned ruminative eyes upon her; she had seen +women with that same expression when at a society function another +entered as to whose social status they were in doubt. Off in a pen a +perfect specimen of pure-blooded Ayreshire bull pawed the ground and +sent showers of earth spraying on his satiny back. Where the trail left +the flower-dotted meadow a spring bubbled from under a mushroom-shaped +rock. Jerry dismounted and knelt for a drink, more for the feel of the +sparkling water against her lips than because of thirst.</p> + +<p>Where should she go, she wondered as she mounted Patches. She had an +inspiration. She would make a neighborly call on the wife of the +ex-service man at Bear Creek ranch. Jerry had never seen her, but Sandy +the Carrier, who was the artery for news in the county, had told her +that she was lonely.</p> + +<p>The water was high in the stream. The banks were pink with wild roses +and among their denseness the meadow-larks kept up an invisible chorus. +Jerry forced Patches to a coquettish prance across the rustic bridge. It +was there that the apex of the B C triangle of land forced its way +between the Double O and the X Y Z. She knew the place; Tommy had shown +her the dividing fences. From where the rushing water narrowed and +whitened over a rocky bed an aged pack-trail staggered into a cuplike +ravine. Rejuvenated by the sunshine in the hollow it straightened and +sprinted straight as an arrow for the foot-hills. The sun shone warmly +on lustrous fields. The air was spicy with the breath of pines. A rabbit +hopped from cover and skurried back again.</p> + +<p>As Patches, with ears pricked, silky neck preened, stepped daintily +along the trail the girl sang happily:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'My road calls me, lures me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">West, east, south and north;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Most roads lead me homeward,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my road leads men forth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To add more miles to the tal——'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The last word was broken in the middle as they rounded a clump of +cottonwoods and came suddenly upon a horseman with a small bunch of +sheep. He jerked his hat low over his eyes as the girl hailed him.</p> + +<p>"Good-afternoon! I am looking for Bear Creek ranch. Will you direct me?"</p> + +<p>Without answering in words the man pointed toward a clutter of buildings +in a slight depression. Back of them a scantily timbered hill, in places +rich with grass dotted with grazing sheep, gave the impression of an +animated Corot. Before Jerry could speak the stranger had galloped off.</p> + +<p>"A responsive party," she soliloquized. "Was he afraid of me, I wonder? +He registered guilt, all right. If he is the owner of B C ranch Uncle +Nick and Bruce Greyson were buncoed. That man is hiding something."</p> + +<p>A woman flung open the cabin door as Jerry rode up. She was young and +pretty. Her clear, full eyes reminded the girl of Ox-eyed Juno. She was +dressed in a bungalow apron of hectic design but scrupulous neatness. A +wistful smile trembled on her lips as she asked:</p> + +<p>"Have—have you lost your way?"</p> + +<p>Jerry Courtlandt shook her head and slipped from the saddle. The gold in +her brown eyes predominated as she fastened Patches to a post and +approached the door.</p> + +<p>"Lost? No, I came to call. I am Geraldine Courtlandt, your neighbor at +the Double O."</p> + +<p>The woman's face colored a delicate shell pink. Her expression was +radiance tempered by incredulity.</p> + +<p>"How—how nice of you, Mrs. Courtlandt, how human. I—I am Mrs. Jim +Carey. Nell Carey. Won't you come in?"</p> + +<p>Jerry liked her dignity. She showed no consciousness of the difference +between her three-room shack and the luxurious ranch-house from which +the visitor had come. "Thoroughbred," thought the girl as she preceded +her hostess into a small but immaculately clean room. With a happy laugh +tinged with excitement, Nell Carey waved her to a seat.</p> + +<p>"Do make yourself comfortable. If you'll excuse me for a moment I'll +bring some tea. The kettle has just boiled. You won't vanish while I'm +gone, will you? Promise. I have a horrible fear that your being here may +be nothing but an iridescent dream."</p> + +<p>Jerry's heart smarted with self-reproach. What heathen people can be and +yet be neighbors, she thought. Here was this girl, and she was a girl in +spite of that betraying heap of white sewing on the machine in the +corner, craving companionship, and she spent hours and hours riding +about the country with never a thought of being neighborly. She looked +about the room. What part of it wasn't taken up by a roll-top desk was +filled by a table fairly groaning under its load of magazines. Three +chairs and the machine completed the furnishings; that is, unless a worn +violin case in a corner came under that head. She hastily cleared an end +of the table as Nell Carey entered with a tea-tray.</p> + +<p>"Thank you. You are the first woman who has been inside my house since I +came here a year ago," she announced breathlessly. Her eyes glowed, her +cheeks were flushed. "Of course Jim has flivvered me to town, but—but I +haven't met anyone whom I cared to have here. Cream?"</p> + +<p>The loneliness of it, Jerry thought, as she watched her hostess pour +thick cream into the fragrant tea with hands that trembled. Then she +remembered that she had been at the Double O three months, and that +except for Ming Soy and Mrs. Simms, the foreman's wife at Upper Farm, +she had not seen a woman. Curious that she had not missed them. Doc Rand +had been as neighborly as his busy life permitted; Bruce Greyson had +been away from the X Y Z since her arrival. With Steve and Tommy she had +been absolutely content. Why? Her thoughts bolted on a tour of +investigation; she dragged them back to answer a question from her +hostess:</p> + +<p>"Not another cookie, thank you. I've been a gourmand, but they are +delicious."</p> + +<p>"Jim likes them."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if I saw your husband by the stream?"</p> + +<p>"No. Jim left yesterday on a hunt for help. He'll only be away four days +but it seems years to look forward to. You must have met our +range-rider, Bill Small. He dropped from the sky, figuratively speaking, +ten months ago. I call him the Man of Mystery. He never talks about +himself, never mentions his people, never has letters, but he's a shark +for work and he plays beautifully. That is his." She nodded toward the +violin case in the corner. "The boys from the Double O and the X Y Z hit +the trail for the Bear Creek every chance they can get to hear him +play."</p> + +<p>The sun topped the cap of a mountain like a mammoth red button as Jerry +leaned from the saddle and held out her hand.</p> + +<p>"You will come and see me, won't you?"</p> + +<p>Nell Carey's lips quivered betrayingly.</p> + +<p>"Of course, if you really want me. But it will be after——" Jerry gave +the hand she held an impulsive squeeze.</p> + +<p>"I'll come here again before that. Aren't you madly happy? I must hurry +or they'll have the entire outfit hunting for me. Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>As she reached the pack-trail she turned and waved and the woman +standing alone by her door waved back. What an atom she seemed in the +wide spaces about her. As she rode Jerry's mind was full of the home she +had left behind. What courage Nell Carey had had to follow her man into +a wilderness like that. And now a little child was coming. She thought +of her father, of his anger because his daughter had insisted upon +accompanying the man she had married to the Double O ranch with all its +luxury. Men were curious creatures.</p> + +<p>The sun had disappeared, fluffy islands of cloud, pink, lemon and +violet, floated above the tops of the mountains, the sky was fast +purpling, there was a suspicion of razor-edge in the crystal-clear air +as Jerry unlatched the gate by the road and closed it after her. She +gave Patches his head and raced toward the ranch-house. In the distance +she saw two horsemen galloping toward her. Steve and Pete Gerrish! She +glanced guiltily at her wrist watch. She was late. Did Steve care enough +to be anxious? The thought gave a tingling sense of excitement. As she +came near the two riders she touched Patches with her spurs, then pulled +him up suddenly. He stop-slid on his haunches, a bit of circus-variety +of horsemanship which Tommy had taught her. She pulled off her +broad-brimmed hat with a sweep reminiscent of José at his best and +called gayly:</p> + +<p>"<i>Que hay, señors! Buenos dias!</i> La señora has been on a wild devil of a +ride, yes?"</p> + +<p>She laughed up into Steve's white face. He moistened his lips as though +they were stiff. She had worried him then. Pete Gerrish's eyes regarded +her with frank admiration.</p> + +<p>"Can she ride, Chief? I want to know! Can she ride! Steve is scared, +ma'am. There's a lot of strangers snooping round and he——"</p> + +<p>"Where have you been, Jerry?" Courtlandt had recovered his voice.</p> + +<p>"Don't beat me, Steve!" Patches was loping along between Blue Devil and +Gerrish's big sorrel. Encouraged by the foreman's quickly suppressed +"Haw-haw" at her pleasantry, she went on, "I've been to Bear Creek ranch +for tea."</p> + +<p>"To the B C alone?"</p> + +<p>"Do I look as though I carried concealed escorts?" with tormenting +charm. "I had an acute attack of conscience. It occurred to me that I +had been something of a heathen to ignore little Mrs. Carey, though I +didn't know that she was little when I went. I only knew what Sandy had +told me, that there was a woman at Bear Creek hungering for someone of +her own sex to talk to."</p> + +<p>"You are to be commended more for your conscience than your common +sense," retorted Courtlandt dryly. "Don't do it again." They reached the +ranch-house steps as he spoke. He slipped to the ground and before Jerry +could protest had lifted her from the saddle. She felt the muscles of +his arms twitch in the second he held her. Before she could speak he had +gathered up the bridles of the horses and started for the corral. The +brown depths of the girl's eyes were troubled as she looked after him. +What menaced the good-comradeship which their arrival at the Double O +had established between herself and Steve? Now he reminded her of a wary +foe thrusting and retreating on the slightest pretext. What could she +have done to change him so? She looked up at Gerrish, a puzzled question +in her eyes. He shook his head as his met them.</p> + +<p>"We mustn't mind if the Chief does act a little locoed, ma'am. He's +walkin' right into trouble. It's Ranlett the Skunk, saving your +presence. Somebody's cayuse got rid of some hobbles when the fence was +cut where the Double O and the X Y Z join, and a bunch of calves has +disappeared. There ain't hide nor hair of 'em to be seen. But, shucks, +don't tell the Chief I told you. I'll mosey 'long now."</p> + +<p>Jerry looked after him with narrowed eyes. "Where the Double O and the X +Y Z join," Pete had said. That was where Bear Creek ranch came in! Like +a movie close-up came a vision of the solitary horseman she had hailed, +the man who had dropped from the air, who never talked about himself or +his people, who never received letters, the Man of Mystery.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p>Courtlandt backed his horse suddenly into the shadow of the quaking +aspens which were fluttering their gold in the sunshine. He adjusted the +field-glasses which he carried slung from his saddle-fork and looked +intently at the bluff which reared from the western bank of the stream. +He was right. There were two men there. The day being Sunday, ordinarily +he would have thought nothing of it, but disturbing things were +happening every day now and Instinct and Caution were riding close to +his saddle-bow. He had the sense of living on the thin crust of a +simmering volcano. He couldn't distinguish their faces, but he would be +willing to swear that the men belonged to the Double O outfit.</p> + +<p>Above the roar of the stream as it made its way through the cañon formed +by the bluff he heard another sound. There was no mistaking it. Steve +had heard the curious whirr of a plane too often not to recognize it +now. It was not uncommon to have one pass over the Double O, but for +some unaccountable reason Courtlandt linked this one to those two +skulking figures at the foot of the bluff. He heard its approach for +some minutes before it came in sight above the hill which he knew was +back of the B C ranch.</p> + +<p>"That's queer! Looks as though it came out of Buzzard's Hollow," he +muttered as he watched the approaching aeroplane. He focussed his +glasses on the men again. They were waving something. Something white. +As though in answer to the signal the huge mechanical bird went +wing-over-wings and slid gracefully into a barrel-roll, then sailed off +into the distance. When Courtlandt's eyes returned from their journey +with the plane the two men had disappeared.</p> + +<p>Motionless, deep in thought, Steve sat his horse. What baneful force was +at work on the ranch? Calves had vanished as completely as though +conjured into thin air, curiously enough, though they were the least +valuable in the herd. The man who had taken them couldn't know much +about cattle. Some of the boys appeared surly and disgruntled. The stand +he had taken on the alien question couldn't account for it all. The +trouble had started a few weeks after his arrival at the ranch. He had +expected that Ranlett would resent having a much younger man than +himself in possession, but he had looked for no such series of +complications as had presented themselves.</p> + +<p>The situation had one compensating side. He had been too occupied with +Double O affairs to have much time for Jerry. He said something under +his breath. Blue Devil nosed round at him inquiringly. Courtlandt looked +at the sun and touched the horse lightly with his heels. It was time to +meet her now. To-day they were resuming a custom that Nicholas Fairfax +had inaugurated, which was to have luncheon beside the stream on Sunday. +Old Nick, young Nick he was then, had announced that the ceremony would +stand for church, that he would worship God through nature. He and Doc +Rand had provided the fish which were cooked on forked sticks over a +fire on the bank of the stream. The work-logged physician's weekly +holiday came to be respected in Slippy Bend. Men, women and children +endured to the limit before they would disturb the doctor's fishing +trip.</p> + +<p>Opposite the rendezvous Courtlandt drew rein and looked across the +stream. Benson, on his knees on the pebbly beach, was struggling with a +fire. He was in khaki riding clothes. A small book protruded from his +hip pocket. Steve smiled. To think of Tommy without a book would be like +thinking of an elephant without his trunk. Beyond the firemaker a spring +bubbled out of the bank in a clear, pure stream, above him the land +sloped smoothly, greenly up to a clump of cottonwoods. In the middle of +the clearing knelt Jerry. A lovely Jerry in riding coat and breeches, +hatless, with millions of golden motes glinting in her hair where the +sunlight rested. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glowed with +friendliness as she talked eagerly with the man who knelt on the other +side of the cloth spread between them.</p> + +<p>Bruce Greyson! Steve's jaws set ominously. The owner of the X Y Z was +passing something to the girl and it seemed to the prejudiced eyes of +the looker-on that their fingers touched and lingered. The two had +evidently been preparing the feast, for with a satisfied nod Jerry sank +back on her heels. She made a megaphone of her hands and called:</p> + +<p>"Coo-e-e! Coo-e-e-e!"</p> + +<p>From around a bend of the river came an answering shout. In spite of the +unaccountable fury which the sight of Greyson in just that spot had +roused in Courtlandt, he laughed as his eyes rested on the figure which +came splashing down the middle of the stream. It was Doc Rand attired in +his usual ministerial black frock coat, with the unusual addition of hip +boots of rubber. The effect of the combination would have tickled the +risibilities of a stoic, if a stoic has the luck to be blessed with +risibilities. A fish basket was slung from one shoulder, his white hair +bushed beneath the brim of his Stetson; the sun on his glasses added an +uncanny touch. His broad black tie, which he usually wore in a Byronic +bow, streamed back over his shoulders. He waved and shouted as +Courtlandt rode his horse down the bank and forded the stream. When +Steve reached the improvised table Greyson and Jerry sat at discreet +distances from it.</p> + +<p>"When did you get back, Bruce?" he asked as with cordial friendliness +the owner of the X Y Z sprang to his feet and gripped his extended hand. +In that instant Courtlandt saw that the whiteness of the hair about the +older man's temples was more noticeable, that it added to his fine, +upright air of distinction.</p> + +<p>"Yesterday. Brought my sister Paula, Vance, her husband, and a friend of +hers along. I want you all to dine with us to-morrow night. We'll show +these blown-in-the-glass New Yorkers that we are not entirely devoid of +the social graces even if we are not in the Dude-ranch neighborhood. Got +half-way to the Double O before I remembered that it was the old custom +to lunch here Sundays. You'll come, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Come!" Jerry's eyes were starry with excitement. "Yes, thank—oh, what +beauties!" as Doc Rand puffed up the bank dangling a string of trout for +her inspection.</p> + +<p>"Take 'em, Steve. You and the Benson boy can cook 'em. Isn't that an +equitable division of labor, Mrs. Jerry? I caught them." He dropped to +the ground beside her and pulled off his hat. "These—these fishing +trips aren't what they were. I miss Nick," he confided as he mopped his +hot brow. Jerry's eyes were tender with sympathy. They wandered dreamily +to the illimitable spaces above the purple mountains as she asked +softly:</p> + +<p>"Where is he, Doctor Rand? Death is such a strange thing. I—I try to +keep a brave front to Peggy but—but I don't care to think about it."</p> + +<p>"Why should you at your age? All your thought should be on making your +life count for something. It is different with me. I find it profoundly +interesting to wonder and imagine what follows this world. For instance, +look at the question in this way. At this moment I can send my mind to +the Manor; in spirit I'm pacing the terrace with Sir Peter. I can see +the boats chugging up and down the river, can smell the queer fragrance +which the sun is baking out of the box hedge in the garden, can hear the +birds twittering among the vines. If I can do all that now, what will it +be when the spirit is not hampered by the body? It will be like flying, +won't it? That reminds me! Oh, Steve!"</p> + +<p>Courtlandt poked his head above the bank beneath which he and Benson +were cooking the fish. A tiny spiral of smoke rose and with it the aroma +of sizzling bacon and frying trout.</p> + +<p>"Did you see the plane that went over?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Doc."</p> + +<p>"I wonder where it came from. It wasn't one of the government flyers. I +know their marks. Did you see the pilot do those stunts above the bluff? +Curious that he should pull off that cut-up stuff there, infernally +risky I call it. He couldn't have been doing it for my benefit. What do +you make of it, Steve?"</p> + +<p>"Probably some crazy, reckless flier getting ready for a contest," +Courtlandt observed, and disappeared below the bank.</p> + +<p>Doc Hand and Greyson left directly after luncheon. Benson packed the +basket which some of the boys would take back to the ranch before he +rode off to Upper Farm on an errand for Courtlandt. Steve helped Jerry +mount and swung into the saddle. The girl tightened her rein then held +up an arresting finger.</p> + +<p>"Listen! The Kreutzer Sonata," she whispered.</p> + +<p>From somewhere up-stream came the notes of a violin. There was a rare +brightness, an aerial quality to the music that most artists take too +gravely. The variations of the slow movements gave the sense of a +glorified voice. Jerry drew a long, tremulous breath as the last note +died away.</p> + +<p>"That must have been the Man of Mystery," she confided in a low voice, +as though fearful even at that distance of disturbing the musician. "I +don't care if he did drop from the sky, if he never receives letters, he +plays like—like an angel—if angels can play," with a laugh. Courtlandt +looked up-stream as though mystified.</p> + +<p>"I knew a man who played that sonata, just like that, but—but it can't +possibly be he. Who did you say you thought it was?"</p> + +<p>"Bill Small, the range-rider at the B C. Mrs. Carey told me about him +when I called there yesterday. She said that the boys of the Double O +and X Y Z outfits trailed over there every chance they could get to hear +him play. That reminds me," her beautiful face glowed with enthusiasm, +"I—I wonder if—if the boys of our outfit would care to have me play +and sing for them? I should so love to do it."</p> + +<p>"Care! I know they would. Pete says that they line up outside the court +wall after dinner on the chance of hearing you sing."</p> + +<p>"Really—really, Steve? I'd rather have that tribute than—than my name +in electric lights on the Great White Way. Ask them up this afternoon. +We'll have an honest-to-goodness musicale with Signora Geraldina +Courtlandta as head-liner. Hurry!" She touched her horse with her heels. +"It's a pity that Bruce Greyson didn't wait. He——"</p> + +<p>"Your proposition was to sing for the Double O outfit. Greyson doesn't +come in on that."</p> + +<p>"Ogre! I can hear my bones scrunch between those strong white teeth of +yours when you look at me like that."</p> + +<p>"Then remember that you're married."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure that the ceremony wasn't a dream?" with a provocative +ripple of laughter. "Do you know, Steve, somehow I never can think of +you as Benedick the married man. You—you are such a good-looking boy." +She was the incarnation of girlish diablerie indulging an irresistible +desire to torment. The color burned to Courtlandt's temples. He caught +the bridle and drew Patches close. His eyes compelled Jerry's.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what happens to a person who rocks a boat, Mrs. +Courtlandt?" he demanded autocratically.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what happens when a person gets unbearably dictatorial, Mr. +Courtlandt? This!" She slapped her horse smartly on the hip. Patches +threw up his head and broke from Steve's hold. The girl looked over her +shoulder. Lips and eyes challenged in unison as she sang mischievously:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'My road calls me, lures me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">West, east, south and north;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most roads lead me homewards,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my road leads——'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Patches stepped in a gopher hole, which, feat brought the song to an +abrupt termination.</p> + +<p>When she met him in the late afternoon on the terrace which overlooked +the court Jerry was as coolly friendly as though the little +passage-at-arms, which had left Steve's pulses hammering, had never +taken place. The piano had been moved out and the outfit, in its Sunday +best, occupied the rustic seats and benches and overflowed to the turf +paths. The girl felt choky as the men rose to greet her. They looked so +big and fine, so like eager, wistful boys. She smiled at them through a +mist.</p> + +<p>"I'll sing what I think you'll like, then you must ask for anything you +want. Please smoke," she added, as she realized what it was that had +made them seem so unfamiliar. They looked from her to Steve. He nodded. +With delighted grins they dropped back to their places and proceeded +with the business of rolling cigarettes.</p> + +<p>Courtlandt and Benson took their places on the edge of the terrace. +Overhead the sky spread like a flawless turquoise; cameoed against the +blue were snow-tipped mountains. The court was gay and fragrant with +blossoms. In the dark shadow of the open doorway Ming and Hopi Soy made +a patch of Oriental brilliance. Jerry in her filmy pink frock looked not +unlike a flower herself, against the rosewood background of the raised +piano top, Courtlandt thought. He looked from her to the rapt, +weather-browned faces of his men. His gaze came back and rested in +fascinated interest on her foot in its pink slipper on the pedal of the +instrument.</p> + +<p>Jerry sang as she had never sung before, ballads, rollicking melodies. +The men drew nearer. When she stopped a swarthy Italian stepped as near +the piano as the terrace would permit. His black eyes seemed too big for +his thin face, his plastered-down hair suggested infinite labor with +brush and pomade.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Tony?" Jerry asked with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Hava you the one grand opera song?" he asked shyly. Jerry was +nonplussed. She had not thought of opera for these men. As she turned +over her music she asked:</p> + +<p>"You like opera, Tony?"</p> + +<p>"Vera much, Signora. At home we taka the leetle seester to grand opera +even if we have not mucha to eat. We feel that eef the leetle seester +hear great music, she be fine lady, not common, not bad—never." His +earnest voice broke as he realized that he was being stared at in +amazement by the outfit. He mumbled an apology and hurried back to his +seat. With a smile at Tony, Jerry placed Tales of Hoffmann on the rack. +She sang the Barcarole. As the exquisite, langorous notes floated out +over the court the shadows lengthened, the sun dropped behind the +mountains. There was no applause when she finished, no one was smoking, +the men sat motionless. Where were their thoughts, the girl wondered. +With a glance at the crimsoning foot-hills she struck a few chords and +sang softly:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Day is dying in the west;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven is touching earth with rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wait and worship while the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sets her evening lamps alight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' all the sky.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>With the second verse the men took up the song. To most of them it +brought a vivid picture of mother and home and the village church at +sunset. They sang until with the last line mountains and foot-hills took +up the words and sent them pealing into space.</p> + +<p>That closed the musicale. One by one the men came forward and thanked +Jerry as she stood between Courtlandt and Benson. As the last one left +the court Tommy turned to the girl.</p> + +<p>"I'll say that was a wonderful thing to do, Mrs. Steve." With a quick +change of tone he spoke to Courtlandt. "Marks and Schoeffleur weren't +here; did you miss them?"</p> + +<p>"Would you expect them to be here?"</p> + +<p>"I should have expected it until to-day. Ever since Marks blew in here +from nowhere two months ago I've been wondering where the dickens I'd +seen him. When that airplane passed over to-day memory flipped into +place the missing piece of the puzzle. He was a mechanician at the +hangar where I tried to develop wings in 1917."</p> + +<p>"You are sure of that, Tommy?"</p> + +<p>"Sure as shootin'. What's up? Why that 'Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell the +blood of an Englishman' scowl, old dear?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, except that your information confirms me in my suspicion that +Marks and Schoeffleur signaled to that pilot when he went over."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That one small head could carry all he knew,'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>contributed Benson in mock amazement.</p> + +<p>Up from the corral floated a chorus of men's voices singing:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Wait and worship while the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sets her evening lamps alight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro' all the sky.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + + +<p>Courtlandt's fine brow puckered in a thoughtful crease as he waited in +the living-room of the Double O for Jerry the next evening. Benson, on +the arm of a chair, bent forward to get the light from the lamp on the +book he had picked up. Through the open windows came the scent of pine +and dewy fields, the murmur of the distant stream as it thundered and +rippled its never-ending triumphal march to the sea, the occasional soft +lowing of cattle.</p> + +<p>Jerry had been tremendously pleased and excited over Greyson's +invitation to dine, Steve thought as he lighted a cigarette and blew the +smoke toward Goober. The dog was regarding him with an air of watchful +waiting. Was he to be invited to jump on the running-board of the +automobile which stood in the drive outside the front door? Courtlandt +remembered as clearly as though it had been yesterday what she had +answered the first night they met when he had asked her if she liked the +city. He could see her eyes now with their golden lights, hear her +musical voice:</p> + +<p>"I love it. It is so big, so beautiful, so faulty. I—I like people; I +should starve for companionship, not food, in a wilderness."</p> + +<p>And this was the girl who had been on the Double O ranch for over three +months and not a person outside it, except Doc Rand and some neighboring +ranchmen, had she seen before she made the trip to the B C. He had been +too busy to think of it before and—and he had intentionally kept out of +her way. He had thought that he had his course set to avoid danger, but +he had come mighty near going to pieces on an uncharted rock yesterday. +He tossed away his cigarette as Jerry's door opened. He took an +involuntary step forward, then thrust his hands into his pockets. Lord, +how impellingly beautiful she was! Her gold-color gown, all film where +it wasn't glistening paillettes, was as simple as the most expensive +modiste in New York could make it. Her lovely arms were bare. The ranch +life had deepened the coloring of her face and throat till her shoulders +looked startlingly white in contrast. Steve noted, with a surge of +primitive triumph, that the only jewels she wore were a string of softly +gleaming pearls and her wedding ring. Sir Peter had given her the pearls +when she was married. They had been worn by his wife and before that by +his mother. Steve heard Tommy give vent to a sound that was a cross +between a swallow and a gasp before he struck an attitude and +paraphrased theatrically:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But soft! What light through yonder doorway breaks?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the east and Juliet is the sun."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Jerry laughed and blew him a kiss. Her teeth rivaled in beauty the +pearls below them. Ming Soy, more rice-papery than ever in the +resplendent embroideries she wore in the evening, followed the girl from +her room with a shimmering wrap over her arm.</p> + +<p>"Were you casting aspersions on the brilliancy of my costume, Mr. Tommy +Benson? This is the first invitation I have received to dine since I +left the metropolis and I acknowledge I have splurged. Do—do you like +me, Steve?" Her attitude was demure but her smile was adorably +mischievous. Courtlandt's eyes flamed, then smoldered.</p> + +<p>"You'll do," with an edge of sarcasm. He hated himself as he saw her +smile fade. Oh, why the dickens couldn't they have met—Tommy swept into +the breach:</p> + +<p>"Oh boy, hear the lady, Steve. 'Will I do?' just as though she didn't +know that</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Alack there lies more peril in thine eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than twenty of their swords.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"<i>Gracias, señor!</i> Alas, if it weren't for you, Tommy, I should go down +to my grave unwept, unhonored and unsung. Now that you have fully +absorbed the glory of my raiment hold my cloak for me, that's a dear. +Now this maline over my hair. I don't wish to appear before the guests +from the effete East like a Meg Merriles."</p> + +<p>"You couldn't," encouraged Benson fervently. "You'd——"</p> + +<p>"Let's go!" cut in Courtlandt sharply, and led the way to the +automobile. He sent the leaping, barking dog back with a curt command +which caused Goober to regard him in drooping, tawny-eyed reproach. He +took the wheel of the roadster. He kept his eyes resolutely on the road +as he drove though he felt as though a magnet of the nth power was +drawing his eyes to the girl who snuggled down between him and Benson. +At the door of the X Y Z ranch-house Greyson met them.</p> + +<p>"It's mighty good of you all to come." His voice was nervous, hurried.</p> + +<p>"Good of us! Bruce, you're a public benefactor. You're a candidate for a +specially designed, specially gilded halo. Do you realize what a risk +you have taken introducing me to your city friends? It is so long since +I have dined in state that I am quite capable of committing some +horrible social blunder."</p> + +<p>Steve's anger flared. Why did she have to admit to Greyson that she had +been bored? It was still flickering as he entered the big living-room, a +room lined with books from floor to ceiling, with color only in the +crimson rug and heavy hangings.</p> + +<p>"You see I've come to help you bear your exile, Steve!" greeted a +laughing voice. Jerry and Tommy, who had preceded Courtlandt, turned +involuntarily. He met the girl's startled eyes. He reddened furiously +before he turned to answer the golden-haired woman who had stepped from +behind a screen.</p> + +<p>"Felice! Where did you come from?" His tone was dazed and strugglingly +cordial.</p> + +<p>"Have you lost both manners and memory, Stevie? You haven't offered to +shake hands; you have apparently forgotten that I wrote you that while +he was at the Manor Mr. Greyson discovered that I had been at school +with his sister. Paula has come out for the summer and brought me with +her. I adore the ranch. Steve, we'll have some rides that will make +those we used to have take on a pale anemic blue." She linked her arm +within his and smiled up at him beguilingly.</p> + +<p>"Hmp, vamp-stuff!" Courtlandt heard Tommy confide to Jerry before he +disengaged his arm from Mrs. Denbigh's clasp and reminded:</p> + +<p>"Have you seen Mrs. Courtlandt, Felice? Jerry, you remember Mrs. +Denbigh?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly. She is one of those persons one never forgets. Mrs. Denbigh, +may I present Mr. Benson? Mr. Greyson, back up your statement, show me +that Hopi saddle-blanket which you claimed yesterday had Uncle Nick's +licked to a finish. That phrase is your bit of choice Americana, not +mine, remember."</p> + +<p>Steve's eyes followed Jerry as she moved away with her host. There was a +slightly scornful tilt to her lips. Greyson looked as though he had been +caught stealing sheep, he decided. Was there a sinister undercurrent at +the X Y Z as well as a Double O? If there were he'd get to the bottom of +that, too. Regardless of Benson's proximity he burst out:</p> + +<p>"Why did you intimate that I had been corresponding with you, Felice?"</p> + +<p>The woman's super decollété frock was no greener than her eyes, her +elaborately coiffured yellow hair glittered; it hadn't the satiny sheen +of Jerry's; her hands were frosty with diamonds. Even her laugh had a +metallic ring as she answered:</p> + +<p>"What a literal person you are, Stevie. Have you been bitten with the +nothing-but-the-truth mania? Can't I interest you in a saddle-blanket? +It makes an excellent smoke-screen for a tête-à-tête." Her laugh tinkled +maliciously as she nodded toward the corner where her host stood with +Jerry Courtlandt. Steve deliberately turned his back and inquired +irrelevantly:</p> + +<p>"How was little ol' New York when you left, Felice?"</p> + +<p>It wasn't to be wondered at that Jerry liked people, people so evidently +adored her, Courtlandt thought as coffee was being served in the +living-room after dinner. Paula Vance, who though no older than Felice +Denbigh, already showed symptoms of middle-age curves, was officiating +behind the massive silver tray with its rare, antique appointments. Her +husband, with those three unmistakable L's, liquor, lobster and leisure +writ large on his portly person from his terraced chin to his shining +patent leathers, Greyson and Benson were listening to Jerry as, with +eyes like stars, cheeks flushed, she sat at the piano. She played a low, +rippling accompaniment as, in answer to a question from her host, she +gave an account of her visit to Bear Creek ranch. Felice Denbigh also +had her eyes on the group. She divided her attention between it and her +coffee. Her light lashes swept her cheeks as she tapped her cigarette +against her thumb-nail and drawled:</p> + +<p>"Better give young Benson his time, Steve. Isn't that ranch parlance for +discharge? He's in love with Mrs. Courtlandt." The man beside her +reddened angrily.</p> + +<p>"Don't bring your tainted ideas out into this clean, glorious country, +Felice. Benson is——" he broke off to watch Greyson's Jap, a little man +with a face like the mask of tragedy who was speaking to Jerry.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure that he said Mrs. Courtlandt?" Steve heard her ask in +surprise. Then as the man reiterated his message she excused herself to +the men about her and left the room. Tommy looked after her anxiously +before his eyes flashed to Steve. The latter gave an imperceptible nod +and with a murmured excuse to Felice followed Jerry. As he stepped to +the porch he saw the golden gleam of the girl's gown at the farther end. +She was talking earnestly with a man, a man who was holding a saddled +horse. The moon shone down upon the animal's wet sides; he had evidently +been ridden hard. What did it mean? Had Glamorgan, by any chance, sent +for his daughter? As he strode toward them he heard the girl say +breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"No! No! Don't wait! Ride as fast as you can. I'll get there some way."</p> + +<p>"Jerry!" in his anxiety Steve sent his voice ahead of him. At the sound +the man leaped to the horse's back and galloped away into the dusk of +the road. The girl strained her eyes after him before she turned.</p> + +<p>"There is something queer about that man, Steve; he is a man of +mystery," she confided as though Courtlandt's materialization out of the +dark was quite what she expected.</p> + +<p>"What did he want?"</p> + +<p>"He wanted me. Don't look so incredulous. I may be an acquired taste +like olives but—some people like me." She abandoned her teasing tone +and hurried on, "That man is the range-rider at Bear Creek ranch. Mrs. +Carey has been taken suddenly ill, there,—there is a baby coming, you +know, Steve. He wanted me to go to her. Her husband is away. They +haven't had a telephone put in and it may take hours to get the doctor +and nurse from town, he may not be able to get them at all and so—and +so he asked me to go and stay with her until he could get help."</p> + +<p>"But you can't go, girl, at this time of night."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I can, Steve. I'm going. Please ask Tommy to drive me. We'll +make better time going in the machine even by the roundabout wagon road. +If I rode I'd have to go home first and change my clothes. He can come +back for you. Hurry!"</p> + +<p>"Back for me! Do you think you go off this ranch to-night with anyone +but me? It's rank folly for you to go——"</p> + +<p>She caught the lapel of his coat and looked up at him with dewy eyes.</p> + +<p>"Suppose,—suppose that it were I, Steve——"</p> + +<p>Even in the dim light he could see the soft color steal to her hair. He +turned away with a sharp:</p> + +<p>"Get your wrap while I go for the car, and give Benson his orders. He'll +have to keep a date for me."</p> + +<p>The star-spangled night was clear and still as Courtlandt slowed down in +front of the Bear Creek ranch-house. The girl beside him shivered as she +looked at the lighted windows. He laid one hand on hers.</p> + +<p>"Steady, little girl, steady. You won't be able to help if you lose your +nerve."</p> + +<p>"I know, Steve, I'll be all right as soon as I get busy. I have never +seen——" She sprang from the car and ran up the path, her golden gown +gleaming in the dim light. As she opened the door Courtlandt heard a +sound which sent him from the car. He couldn't sit still. Lips set he +paced back and forth, back and forth while a voice inside his head, +which didn't seem his voice at all, kept repeating, "Suppose—just +suppose it were I, Steve?"</p> + +<p>Other thoughts crowded in upon him as he paced like a sentinel, a +sentinel in dinner clothes, before the little house. The dawn crept +slowly up in the east spraying the dark sky overhead with gorgeousness. +It transformed the world into the fairyland of the pantomimes of his +boyhood, a world full of magic passwords and talismans. He almost +expected to see a shimmering, masked Harlequin tap on the cabin door +with his supple wand and a dainty Columbine pirouette out in response.</p> + +<p>Whatever it might be outside, there was no illusion behind that closed +door. It was raw reality. What wonders women were, some of them, Steve +amended. He thought of the girls with whom he had dined and danced in +the last two years. Many of them sensation-seeking privateers. Was it +after-war reaction which made them so recklessly, flagrantly determined +in their attempts to lure? They had succeeded only in repelling him but +they had plenty of victims. How they crackled the glaze of their +reputations. How they married and unmarried, those people whom he knew, +and with what tragic consequences to their children. Felice was a +product of the atmosphere in which she lived. He realized now that she +would have no scruples in coming between him and the girl he had married +if she could. A fragment from Kant which had been the text for a college +theme teased at the tip Of his tongue. He had it! "No one of us can do +that, which if done by all, will destroy society." If this divorce +business kept up it would destroy society. Did luxurious social life +breed inconstancy of purpose, contempt of covenants?</p> + +<p>As though in answer to his question came a vision of Jerry as she had +knelt beside Old Nick's bed. He could see her face, the hint of tears +under the steadiness of her gaze, hear her voice as she repeated +reverently the marriage service.</p> + +<p>She would keep her marriage vow at any cost to herself, Courtlandt +thought, no matter how she might care for someone else. She was the sort +of woman who would stand the wear and tear of daily companionship, +making allowance for a man's moods but never knuckling to them. She'd +bring him up with a round turn, but she'd laugh while she did it. He +couldn't imagine her irritable or fretty or snappy. She had the saving +grace of humor. If women could only learn the persuasive value of a +laugh as against tears or sulks how many marriages would be saved from +the scrap-heap. After all, any poor dumb-bell could get married; it was +staying married which proved one's metal.</p> + +<p>The color overhead spread with increasing beauty. The last friendly star +high up above a mountain twinkled out. Somewhere toward the barns a +shrill-voiced, enterprising cock "hailed the smiling morn." A curl of +smoke rose lazily from the cabin chimney. The sun shot up through a +fleece of clouds; it painted the fields and sloping hillside with +radiance. A horse whinnied in the corral, a light breeze sprang up and +brought with it the odor of barns, the strong scent of wool. From the +road came the labored breathing of a flivver.</p> + +<p>"Thank God, someone's coming!" Courtlandt thought. He looked toward the +cabin, transformed in the morning light into a habitation of gold. As he +looked the lights in the windows went out. What was Jerry doing? Could +he have helped? A flivver rattled up and stopped. In the exuberance of +his relief Steve opened the door of the car before either of the +occupants had a chance. "Mother" Egan, a portly woman whose clothing +suggested a starch and soap advertisement, it was so immaculate and +standoutish, nodded as she stepped heavily out. Her face beamed with +kindliness and sympathetic understanding as she lumbered up to the door. +Doc Rand regarded Courtlandt with an incredulous grin:</p> + +<p>"For the love of Mike, Steve, what you doing here? This isn't your +party——" with a hardened chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Cut out the comedy, Doc. I brought Mrs. Courtlandt over to stay until +you came. For God's sake get in there and stop those sounds. Send Jerry +out."</p> + +<p>"What you say goes, Steve. Out she comes. Run the flivver round to the +barn, will you? I'm likely to stay here most of the day."</p> + +<p>Worn black bag in hand he disappeared inside the house. As Steve started +the car a horseman galloped into sight on the road. He stopped his horse +with a suddenness that threw the animal back on his haunches, then, +after an instant's hesitation he went on toward the huddle of buildings. +Steve looked after him curiously. Was he Jerry's Man of Mystery? He +deliberately followed the horseman. When he dismounted Steve shut off +his engine and jumped to the ground. The rider turned. Steve stared.</p> + +<p>"Phil Denbigh!" he exclaimed incredulously.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + + +<p>The two men faced each other silently. The morning light accentuated the +lines on Denbigh's thin, ascetic face, revealed the brooding sorrow in +his eyes. After his involuntary halt of surprise Courtlandt sprang +forward with outstretched hand.</p> + +<p>"Phil, old scout, it's good to see you! But—but what the dickens are +you doing here? I know Jim Carey but you're—not——"</p> + +<p>"The same. I'm Bill Small, range-rider of the Bear Creek outfit, which +extensive outfit consists at present of the owner and yours truly. It +has taken some dexterity to keep out of your way, Steve. Your Uncle Nick +got me the job. Curious that I should have turned to him in my despair, +but—but he was the first person I thought of. I had heard Mother rail +about his caustic tongue. I concluded if she thought that, he must have +a keen sense of justice and fair-dealing. Mrs. Carey thinks that I +dropped from the air or any old place. Jim went away three days ago and +left me in charge. We didn't think that this—this—was coming so soon. +My first thought when Mrs. Carey called me last evening was to get hold +of the nearest woman and—and Mrs. Courtlandt seemed to be it. I went +to your ranch, first and they sent me on to the X Y Z."</p> + +<p>"I can't make you seem real yet, Phil. I'm dazed with the succession of +surprises. Saturday, Beechy, my late sergeant walked in and——"</p> + +<p>"Beechy!"</p> + +<p>"Say, 'The Devil!' and be done with it, that's what your tone implied. +What do you know about Carl Beechy?"</p> + +<p>"I've run across him in Slippy Bend. A regular fella with the ladies, +isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"So that's it! I'll have to admit that Carl is an easy mark with the +fair sex, but he's all there when it comes to fighting. I wanted to keep +him at the Double O, but he insisted that he must keep his contract with +the railroad."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he did. You're fond of Beechy, Steve?"</p> + +<p>"He saved my life, Phil. I was as sure of the man's loyalty as I was +that the sun would rise in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Have patience, Steve, you'll get him back. Sadder and wiser, perhaps a +bit damaged, but you'll get him back."</p> + +<p>"Damaged! What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing specific. I'm judging from what I've seen the railroads do. I +hear Ranlett has left you. Take it from me, you're in luck."</p> + +<p>"I'll say you're right. I haven't had a chance to talk it over with +Greyson yet; he came back from the East only a few days ago. Uncle Nick +relied on his judgment. Good Lord!"—as remembrance of the evening +before flashed clear in his mind, "do you know who came with him? +Your—your wife."</p> + +<p>Denbigh leisurely lighted a cigarette and as leisurely drew a long whiff +of it.</p> + +<p>"My wife! I haven't a wife. Felice will have her divorce in a few +months. Desertion. Mamma Peyton's master-mind directed the campaign. +Trust an old-timer like her to know the ropes. Felice didn't love me +when she married me; she merely contracted a virulent attack of the +war-marriage epidemic. I found that out when you came home. I'm through +with women, Steve, that is until I've proved myself a man whose sense of +right and justice can't be twisted by them. If I hadn't been weak Mother +couldn't have—oh, why go into it? It wasn't her fault; life had been +too easy for her; she couldn't bear to be hurt. Well, she has lost me as +effectually as though I had been shot to pieces in the Argonne where so +many of my friends lie. The effects of gas and shot and shell aren't in +it with the intolerable sense of shame which a man, who didn't do his +best to get into the war, will carry through the years. God knows, I'm +paying for my weakness. Don't mind this outburst, Steve. Forget it! +You're the first person I've seen from home. It—it just surged out."</p> + +<p>He leaned his head upon his horse's neck. The animal which had been +pawing impatiently settled into bronze immobility at his touch. Only his +sensitive nostrils quivered. Courtlandt laid a sympathetic hand on +Denbigh's shoulder. His voice was unsteady as he protested:</p> + +<p>"You're torturing yourself unnecessarily, Phil. The world has almost +forgotten——"</p> + +<p>"I haven't, Steve, but we'll let it go at that. Don't let Felice know +that I am here. When she gets her divorce——"</p> + +<p>"But, Phil, can't you and she patch things up? Divorce is a hard thing +for a woman to live down."</p> + +<p>"Not in our set. Good Lord, man, Felice thinks no more of it than she +would of discarding an unbecoming gown. It's in her blood. It's in mine. +Her mother had changed husbands once before Felice was born. Mine +changed hers when he was young and unsuccessful. She had the money. When +the Fates want to hand it to a man good and plenty they marry him to a +girl who has slathers more money than he has." Steve's face whitened. +"Was that a door closing? Go quick, Steve. If it is Mrs. Courtlandt I +don't want her to see me. Don't tell her who I am." He seized his horse +by the bridle and vanished into the barn.</p> + +<p>Steve met Jerry beside his car. His jaw set in the manner dreaded by his +father as he looked at the girl's face. It was white with violet shadows +under the wide, strained eyes. Her exquisite frock was torn where she +had caught it on a hook. A long angry burn was visible on the wrist +which the sleeve of her wrap didn't cover. Her lips quivered +traitorously as she saw Steve's eyes on it. She hastily concealed it +behind her back with a valiant attempt at a laugh.</p> + +<p>"It's nothing. I hoped that it would escape your ruthless managerial +eye. I tried to heat water and I'm not used to a kitchen range. In fact, +I don't know what I can do that's vitally useful. When—when I go back +to civilization I shall take a course in nursing, then I won't be so +absolutely useless at a time like this." Her voice was pitched in a key +of nervous excitement, and she shivered as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Come here!" Courtlandt's face was as white as the girl's as he picked +her up in his arms and put her into the car. He drew her wrap closer +about her shoulders and tucked a light robe about her knees. She sat +there tense, unresponsive, but as he started the car she suddenly +relaxed with a stifled sob and covered her face with her hands. Steve +stopped the car. With quiet determination he put his arm about her.</p> + +<p>"Cry it out, child," he encouraged tenderly. When the storm broke he +wondered if he had been wise in the recommendation. He was frightened at +the tempest of sobs which shook the slender body. He tightened his arm. +Then after a few moments, "Was it as bad as that, girl?"</p> + +<p>She sat up with a start and drew as far away from him as the limited +space would permit. He laid his arm across the back of the seat. She +pushed the hair from her forehead and looked up at him through drenched +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Bad!" she controlled a shudder. "Bad only because I was so powerless to +help. An angel from heaven wouldn't have looked as good to me as Doc +Rand." There was an hysterical note of laughter in her voice as she +continued, "He must have thought I had gone suddenly mad for when he +opened the door I flew at him and kissed him." She made furtive dabs at +her eyes. "Don't think that I'm constitutionally a cry-baby," she +laughed up at Courtlandt shamefacedly. He turned away from her quickly, +removed his arm from the back of the seat and started the car.</p> + +<p>"Now that you've got your grip again we'll go on. I'm famished," he +announced prosaically.</p> + +<p>"Now that I think of it, so am I," she agreed with gay camaraderie, but +her breath came in a little sob as a child's might after crying, +"and—and so are they! Look, Steve! Over on that hillside—look!"</p> + +<p>She gripped his arm with one hand as she pointed with the other. On the +top of a low hill, outlined like shadow pictures against the morning +sky, so near that their hanging tongues were plainly visible, were three +dark, sinister shapes.</p> + +<p>"Coyotes?" the girl whispered as though even at that distance they might +hear.</p> + +<p>"Timber wolves. See those sheep grazing in the coulée below? They are +after them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Steve, can't we do something?"</p> + +<p>For answer Courtlandt reached into the pocket of the car and drew his +automatic. The shots rang through the morning quiet, the echoes +ricochetted back from the hills. The sheep kicked up their heels and +scampered off. The wolves stood like creatures of stone for an instant, +then slowly, quite without panic, turned and disappeared over the brow +of the hill. Jerry shivered.</p> + +<p>"Wolves! I thought you were rid of them in this country."</p> + +<p>"We are almost. Occasionally the boys bring in reports of the trail of a +wolf or a mountain lion. We have a pest of coyotes though, this year. If +you want to insult a ranchman or cowboy to fighting mad, call him a +coyote; it means the most despicable creature in the animal world. +They're cowards. If that bunch of sheep turned and faced a coyote they +would terrify him."</p> + +<p>"Ranch life is just one problem after another, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"No more than any life which is packed with interest."</p> + +<p>"My mistake! Didn't the little boy want his little ranch found fault +with? Then he shan't be teased."</p> + +<p>As he turned and looked at her she caught her breath, colored richly and +apologized. "Don't mind me, Steve. The sudden release from +responsibility and the elixir of the morning air have gone to my head. +I'll be good, really I will. Did you see the Man of Mystery? I—I +somehow have a feeling that he may know something of the missing +calves."</p> + +<p>"You're wrong. He's all right, he's doing a man's job—<i>he</i> isn't +troubling me but—but I wish I knew what Beechy had up his sleeve. What +had he said to you before I came in that day in the office?" with quick +suspicion. His tone sent the color flying to the girl's hair.</p> + +<p>"Why—why—nothing—but——"</p> + +<p>"Don't perjure yourself," dryly. "Much as I think of Carl I'm not blind +to his ways with women. He couldn't have been unbearably raw or you +wouldn't have shaken hands with him, would you? I—didn't like his eyes +when he said he had work on the railroad."</p> + +<p>"Steve, you are developing nerves; your imagination is running wild. One +would think that we were back in the days of armed bandits, when masked +men held up trains at the point of a gun. That isn't done now, you +know," with gay patronage.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—look up on the hill! The boys are bringing down the horses."</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes followed his pointing finger. Nose to tail, close herded +by riders, the animals trailed toward the corral after their night of +feeding in the hillside pastures. They tossed their manes, they made +sportive attempts to escape their keepers.</p> + +<p>"How well our boys ride." Steve's pulses responded to that possessive +"our."</p> + +<p>"They ought to. They are as near old-timers as can be found now. The +Double O was Uncle Nick's master-passion. He took up the land when it +was the ranchman's paradise, in the years before fence-posts and barbed +wire, when cowboys packed guns and drank and gambled away their pay. He +adapted himself with amazing success to changing conditions though, and +hung on to all the real boys whom he could tempt with pay and the pride +of raising thoroughbreds."</p> + +<p>As Courtlandt stopped the car in front of the ranch-house, the door was +flung open and a girl ran down the steps. Jerry stared incredulously. +"Peggy! Peggy!" she was out of the car in a flash and had her sister in +her arms. Steve heard one more muffled "Peggy!" before the two entered +the house. The surprise following so close upon her night's vigil might +be too much for Jerry, he feared. When Peg had written him and begged +him to keep her coming a surprise he had weakly consented. He had +intended to meet her train but had had to delegate Tommy to take his +place.</p> + +<p>Jerry had quite recovered her poise when she appeared for breakfast in +the court. If there was a trace of <i>vibrato</i> in her voice only +Courtlandt noticed it. She and Peg had stopped talking long enough to +get two hours' sleep. Overhead the sky spread like a Della Robbia glaze, +the atmosphere was so clear that the snow-tipped mountains seemed +reachable. A tractor in a distant field sounded but a few feet away. The +air was sweet with the fragrance of roses, the fountain tinkled +musically. Benito, yellow eyes blinking, his gay plumage ruffled till he +looked like an animated feather-duster, sidled round and round the rim +of the basin.</p> + +<p>Peggy regarded her sister with elfish, hazel eyes as she took her seat +at the table.</p> + +<p>"Ye gods, Jerry, but I'm glad to see you clothed and in your right mind. +That green skirt and sweater is a little bit of all right and I'm crazy +about your frills; they make me think of the soap-suds you see in the +demonstration electric washers, they're so—so fleecy. When you drove up +in that vampish gold gown this morning I thought it must be the custom +of the country to breakfast in evening clothes and I could have wept. +I'd been disillusioned enough. I thought that every honest-to-goodness +he-man on a ranch wore chaps and tore about with his six-shooter +'spittin' death and damnation,' but the man who brought out my trunks +evidently has a passion for overalls, and Mr. Benson met me at the train +looking like a model of the Well-Dressed Man."</p> + +<p>Her sister laughed.</p> + +<p>"You've been reading Zane Gray et als. Please understand that we are +ultra civilized on this ranch after six o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Then you'll eat up my news. That smitten salesman of yours at Tiffany's +told me before I left New York that he was on the trail of the +Alexandrite ring you'd been wanting. It belonged to one of the late +royalties. He says that it is a wonder, beautifully set and only two +thousand dollars! You'd better write him about it. Of course he can't +hold it indefinitely."</p> + +<p>"Two thousand dollars!" Jerry regretted the shocked exclamation as soon +as it left her lips. She glanced furtively at Steve. His eyes, clear and +clean and shining from his out-of-door life, disconcertingly direct, met +hers. She looked away hastily. "I'm—I'm not buying jewels now, Peg."</p> + +<p>"You're not! Growing miserly in your old age, Geraldine?" with +patronizing surprise. "You've been talking of that Alexandrite for——"</p> + +<p>"Will you ride the range with your ancient brother-in-law this morning, +Peg-o'-my-heart?" broke in Courtlandt. "We'll have lunch at Upper Farm."</p> + +<p>"I'll say I'd love it. Will you come, Jerry?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have work to do. Behold your erstwhile humble sister the private +secretary of the owner of Double O ranch," with laughing empressement.</p> + +<p>"Don't work. Sleep, or ride with Peg," cut in Steve sharply. "Remember +you were out all night."</p> + +<p>"O King Live Forever!" mocked Geraldine gayly. "Just as though I hadn't +danced all night many a time and ridden in the park all morning. I +shall——"</p> + +<p>"Pete Glellish tlell you dat Ranlett make bad pidgin in Lower Flield," +interrupted Ming Soy's soft voice at Courtlandt's elbow. "He say, +'Hully—hully—hully!'"</p> + +<p>Steve sprang from his chair and caromed into Tommy Benson who had just +entered the court and stood beaming upon Peggy Glamorgan.</p> + +<p>"What, down already, Miss Peg? Methinks</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'This morning, like the spirit of a youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That means to be of note, begins betimes.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Why the glassy-eye and furrowed-brow effect, Steve? I hope that you've +left me a taste of the honey, Miss Glamorgan?" he reproached as he took +his place at the table beside the girl.</p> + +<p>"As soon as you've had a bite, Tommy, join me at Lower Field. Bring Peg +along. Jerry," Steve Courtlandt's voice was peremptory, "remember, no +work in the office and if you don't go with Peg and Tommy stay in sight +of the ranch-house if you ride. Don't expect me until you see me. I may +not be at home to-night."</p> + +<p>He didn't wait for her answer. In his own room he picked up a Colt 45, +spun the cylinder, slipped a box of cartridges into his pocket and +hurried to the side door. Gerrish, mounted on the big sorrel, held Blue +Devil by the bridle. Both horses were prancing nervously, for the +parrot, who had climbed to the gutter under the roof, was clucking and +calling:</p> + +<p>"Gid-dap! Go-long!"</p> + +<p>"That bird ought to be shot," Steve growled as with some difficulty he +mounted. "What's to pay now, Pete, Ranlett?"</p> + +<p>"You've got your rope on the right pair of horns this time, Chief. The +fences of Lower Field have been cut."</p> + +<p>"Toward the railroad?"</p> + +<p>"By cripes, no. Toward the mountains. If 't been the railroad side we +might have stood a chance of corralling the Shorthorns, but if they once +get into the mountains—Lord-ee, I believe yer uncle'll rise out of his +grave an' go after 'em. Them critters was the pride of his life. Ranlett +was a low-down dawg to turn a trick like this. Say, do you know anything +about thet range-rider at Bear Creek?"</p> + +<p>"Why—why—I've spoken to him. You don't suspect him of being in this +deal, do you?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't suspectin' nothin', but after I'd saw him twice talkin' to +Ranlett I sort of got his number."</p> + +<p>"You've got it wrong, then, Pete. I happen to know that the man is white +clear through."</p> + +<p>"Well, I ain't shootin' off my mouth careless when I say that the +range-rider's got somethin' up his sleeve. It's my best bet there's +going to be fifty-seven varieties of hell blowin' up round this ranch +before we get through. If you ask me, I'll say that the crime-wave +that's been lappin' the coast has swashed out here in a flood."</p> + +<p>"But, Pete, it's impossible for rustlers to get away with their old +stuff now."</p> + +<p>"You're shoutin', Chief, it sure is, but—they'll find some new ways. I +got it doped out your way too, but if it ain't rustlin', what fool thing +is that coyote Ranlett up to?"</p> + +<p>"Giving us a run for our cattle, I guess. Spite. How many boys can we +spare to round up the Shorthorns?"</p> + +<p>"I've sent fer the bunch. There's somethin' else phoney that I haven't +told yer. It's been open and shut in my mind whether I'd better."</p> + +<p>"Shoot, old-timer!" commanded Courtlandt curtly.</p> + +<p>"Well, since you fed Ranlett his time he's been moseyin' round Slippy +Bend. The other day when I rode over there to see Baldy Jennings, 'bout +shippin' them steer, I just naturally dropped into the Lazy Wolf. Our +late manager was settin' at a table with two girls and a man. It wasn't +my butt-in and I wouldn't have specially noticed the stranger if he +hadn't been makin' goo-goo eyes at one of the females out of all +proportion to her good looks. She hed——"</p> + +<p>"Let's pass up what she looked like. Who was the man?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know then, but Saturday you brought the ol' son-of-a-gun of a +lady-killer to the bunk-house yourself. Savvy?"</p> + +<p>"You don't mean Beechy?"</p> + +<p>"Sorry, Chief, but he's the same. An' unless I'm locoed Ranlett's got +the feller's hide nailed to his stable door; he's got him an' he's got +him tight."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + + +<p>Bubbles the roan, own brother to Patches, and Peggy Glamorgan on his +back were radiant youth incarnate. The horse arched his graceful head as +though proudly conscious of the loveliness of his burden; the corded +muscles of shoulder, flank and leg flexed sensitively under his satin +skin with every move of his pliant body. The girl's sombrero had the +true ranchero tilt. Her khaki riding costume was as perfect a thing as +the cinema-fed imagination of a fashionable habit-maker could conceive; +it was only by exercising superhuman restraint that he had refrained +from adding buckskin fringe and a six-shooter. Tommy Benson regarded her +as though hypnotized. He caught a quizzical expression in Jerry's eyes +as she stood on the porch, and colored hotly. He swallowed hard and +sprang to the saddle. With obvious effort to regain his poise, he +touched his horse with his heels and with a theatrical sweep of his +right arm declaimed:</p> + +<p>"Let's go! 'Once more into the breach dear friends, once more.'"</p> + +<p>Peggy lingered.</p> + +<p>"You are sure that you won't come with us, Jerry?" Her sister smilingly +shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, I must finish some work. Come back, Goober!" to the dog who had +been jumping up to lick the noses of the horses, and who with short +joyous barks was preparing to follow them. He threw her a glance replete +with injured dignity and flopped down on the porch with head on his +outstretched paws. Peggy threw a hasty "I'm sorry!" over her shoulder +and urged Bubbles to a gallop. Tommy bore down upon her as she reached +the ranch road. He seized the bridle of her horse and pulled him down.</p> + +<p>"Where's the fire?" he demanded. "What's the big idea in burning up the +road? I want to make this ride last."</p> + +<p>"I thought you wanted to get to Lower Field to help Steve," +reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Sure thing, but if I break my neck getting there it won't prove much, +will it? I wonder why your sister didn't come."</p> + +<p>The horses stepped daintily side by side, their glossy coats shining in +the sunlight. Peggy's brows met in a suspicion of a frown.</p> + +<p>"Tommy—you don't mind if I call you Tommy, do you?" with just the right +suggestion of hesitation and a glance from under curling lashes which +fanned a spark in the man's eyes to fire.</p> + +<p>"I'll say that I don't," fervently. "Formality is silly in a great, +God's-own-country like this. What's on your mind?"</p> + +<p>"Jerry. I was wondering. There is something queer about Steve and Jerry, +Tommy. They don't seem a bit like married lovers; have you noticed it?"</p> + +<p>Benson bent far forward to examine the bit in his horse's mouth. When he +settled back in the saddle his face was flushed.</p> + +<p>"'I never knew so young a lady with so old a head,'" he quoted gayly. +"What does a child like you, just out of the nursery, know about +lovers?" he teased.</p> + +<p>She regarded him with lofty condescension.</p> + +<p>"I shall be nineteen my next birthday and I'll have you understand that +boys have been plentiful in my career, Mr. Benson. Of course if you +don't care to talk with me——"</p> + +<p>"I do—I do, Peg-o'-my-heart!" Courtlandt's name for her slipped +unconsciously from Tommy's lips. He looked at her apologetically but the +girl was too engrossed in her troubled thoughts to notice what he called +her. Reassured he answered her question. "I think that Steve and Jerry +are bully pals."</p> + +<p>"Pals! Ye gods, and that's all. Honest now, Tommy, have you ever seen +Steve catch Jerry's hand as though he just couldn't help it?" Benson +met her triumphant glance with a sternly accusing eye.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the precocity and sophistication of twentieth century youth! Look +here, young woman, what have you been reading?"</p> + +<p>"Reading! Tommy, you're overdoing it. You're too innocent to be true," +with a little rush of laughter. "Now I ask you, would you want a wife +who was as distantly friendly to you as Jerry is to Steve?"</p> + +<p>"I should not," with convincing emphasis. "But why should your sister +have married Courtlandt if she didn't love him? I can't conceive of his +not being mad about her."</p> + +<p>"Dad was the why. I didn't know until I asked him if I might come here. +I went to San Francisco with my roommate when school closed, but I +intended to come to Jerry as quickly as I politely could. When he gave +me permission to come Dad told me that he expected me to marry family as +Jerry had—that he had brought her up with the idea and that she had not +disappointed him. That's that!"</p> + +<p>"In the vernacular of the backwoods, 'She seen her duty an' she done +it,'" interpolated Benson. "Might—might an humble admirer ask if you +are planning to please your father or—or yourself, when you marry?" He +succeeded in keeping eyes and tone gayly impersonal.</p> + +<p>"I don't intend to marry at all, that is, not for years and years and +years."</p> + +<p>"You'll be quite a nice old lady by that time, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"You're not nearly as good-looking when you scowl, Tommy. As I was +saying, when so rudely interrupted, when I do marry it will be to please +myself. I told Dad a thing or two," and Tommy, observing the tiny flames +which memory had set in her hazel eyes, allowed that she had.</p> + +<p>"I'm puzzled about Jerry's money," Peggy went on thoughtfully. "Dad +gives us an allowance fit for princesses of blood royal; that's an +out-of-date simile now, isn't it? When I asked her this morning for five +dollars with which to tip the man who brought up my trunk, first she was +shocked at the idea of tipping one of the outfit, and then she grew as +red as fire and stammered that she had no small bills. Ye gods, what do +you know about that?" with slangy amazement.</p> + +<p>"Sweet cookie, that's nothing. Many a time I haven't been able to pry a +dollar bill loose."</p> + +<p>"That is different. You're—you're working and it takes time to make a +living," with sweet earnestness. Tommy shot a quick look at her. Was she +laughing at him? No, she was taking his lack of funds seriously. "About +that Alexandrite ring. Once Jerry would have ordered it by wire before +you could say 'Jack Robinson'—but all she said was, 'I—I'm not buying +jewels now, Peg.' Has she turned miser or has Dad——" her eyes flew to +Benson's in startled questioning. "Dad was furious because Jerry and +Steve left New York. Could he have stopped her allowance? But—but if he +did—surely Steve would give——" she stopped in troubled uncertainty.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you ask your sister?" suggested Benson gravely.</p> + +<p>"I will. I can't believe that Dad would—well he'd better never try to +drive me. And that's that," with a defiant tilt of her chin.</p> + +<p>"Would you stick to—to a man, a poor man, you loved even if you knew +that your father would cut you off with the proverbial shilling?" Her +hazel eyes met his turbulent blue ones frankly.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I would, Mr. Tommy Benson. I shouldn't be afraid to marry a poor +man, that is, a poor man with a future. I should want to be sure that he +was that kind. I love to cook and sew and I should adore taking care of +a ducky little house and brushing my husband's coat collar when he +started off for work in the morning and going to market. There is only +one thing I should hate to economize about——" her expression and tone +were introspective. Benson was conscious that his heart was in his eyes +but he didn't care. She was adorable with that thoughtful pucker of her +vivid lips. He had to steady his voice before he asked lightly:</p> + +<p>"And what may that one thing be, Peg-o'-my-heart?"</p> + +<p>"Children," she answered promptly and with utter absence of +self-consciousness. "I want eight and—and I suppose that's rather +extravagant for a poor man to start with, don't you, Tommy?"</p> + +<p>Benson held his emotions in a grip of steel. At that moment the +boy-he-had-been waved good-bye and slipped away forever. The man's eyes +were gravely tender as he answered the girl's question with judicial +deliberation.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—not. That is, not for a poor man with a future." He tightened +on the bridle. "Steve will think we're quitters. Let's go!"</p> + +<p>The white road stretched ahead of them. Their horses' feet raised a haze +of dust. On either side billowed fields of tall, untrodden grass and +beyond the fields lumped the foot-hills. In a pasture a roan mare lay +with her head up over her shoulder asleep, while beside her, flat on its +side in the sun, dozed a young colt. Insects droned and buzzed +unceasingly. The air sparkled with that brand of ozone to be found only +among the foot-hills.</p> + +<p>Benson and Peggy came upon Courtlandt in Lower Field. He nodded to them +absent-mindedly. He was the centre of a group of mounted men, all eager, +all armed. Most of them rolled and smoked cigarettes incessantly as they +sat their horses. A few of them wore chaps with vests over their colored +shirts, some were in khaki riding clothes, all wore bandanas of violent +pattern in place of collars, broad-brimmed Stetsons and laced riding +boots. They were a clean-cut, self-respecting looking lot, as lean, +lithe and brown as a life spent in the saddle could make them. Pete +Gerrish on his massive sorrel loomed above them all.</p> + +<p>"Understand me, there is to be no shooting," Steve was reiterating as +Peg and Benson rode up. "Gerrish, I'll fire the man who shoots unless in +self-defense. Do you get me, boys?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, we get you," drawled Marcelle O'Neil, so nicknamed because of the +unrepressible kink in his straw-colored hair. "No objection, be ther', +to ropin' one of Ranlett's gang an' reinin' him up short if he starts to +lope?" he wheedled.</p> + +<p>"No. Bring every one of them back if you can. Without injury, though. +We'll let the law mete out punishment."</p> + +<p>"Sure, it's none of my butt-in how you handle the durn polecat, but if I +had my way I'd swing Ranlett up to a cottonwood if I got my mazuma fer +doin' it. Them were the finest Shorthorns in the world and if +Nick-the-time-feeder was back——"</p> + +<p>Nicholas Fairfax had been notoriously prompt to discharge a man who +slacked on the job, but O'Neil had not intended to let the bunk-house +name for the late owner of the Double O slip out. He looked furtively at +Courtlandt but he, consciously or unconsciously, ignored the lapse.</p> + +<p>"We'll find them, O'Neil. We must. Get a move on, boys. Ride in pairs +and ride like——"</p> + +<p>Their whoop of enthusiasm drowned his last words. Steve remained +motionless until the last one had taken the fence at a jump. His face +was white, his eyes strained and tired. He rode toward Peg and Benson +who had with difficulty restrained their horses from following the +riders.</p> + +<p>"That was the nearest approach to the wild-west cowboy of the eighties +that you will ever see, Peg-o'-my-heart. Did you notice that Marks and +Schoeffleur were missing, Tommy? Why didn't Jerry come with you, Peg?"</p> + +<p>"She said that she had work to do, that she would ride after luncheon."</p> + +<p>"She understood that she was not to go out of sight of the ranch-house?"</p> + +<p>The girl's salaam was as profound as the neck of her horse would +permit.</p> + +<p>"Your slave heard and obeys, oh Abdul the Great."</p> + +<p>A laugh erased the tired lines about Courtlandt's mouth.</p> + +<p>"Do I seem such a tyrannous old Turk to you? Well, it is only because I +am afraid that Jerry——" He left his sentence unfinished and turned to +Benson. "Take a message to Upper Farm for me. Tell—the Devil!"</p> + +<p>"Your mistake, Steve; it's only Mrs. Denbigh," Peggy corrected +mischievously as she followed Courtlandt's eyes to where Felice Denbigh +and Greyson were entering the field. The three rode to meet the +newcomers.</p> + +<p>"Good morning. I didn't know that you left your downy before noon, +Felice."</p> + +<p>The woman put her horse through a few paces that were as coquettish as +her eyes and voice.</p> + +<p>"On with the vamps!" muttered Tommy in a tone intended only for Peg's +ear. With difficulty she choked back a delighted giggle as Felice +answered in a spoiled-child voice:</p> + +<p>"Steve, you're getting to be a barbarian out here. Have you forgotten +that last night you invited me to ride with you this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Last night—I what?" demanded Courtlandt, a slow color darkening his +face.</p> + +<p>"I waited for you at the X Y Z and when you didn't come fairly browbeat +my host into escorting me to Double O ranch. I thought I should find you +there. No such luck. We saw only Mrs. Courtlandt and she thought that +you would be too busy——"</p> + +<p>"I am too busy," curtly. "Tommy, take Mrs. Denbigh with you and Peg to +Upper Farm. You'll find the most up-to-date dairy in the country there, +Felice. Its equipment cost——"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk like a mail-order catalogue, Steve," the woman interrupted +petulantly. "If you can't show me the Upper Farm I will wait until you +can, I'm a patient waiter. I always get what I want," with narrowed eyes +and an iced smile which sent a queer shiver down Benson's spine. He +looked at Greyson to see how he was bearing his equivocal position. The +man's fine, thoroughbred face was red and set about the lips. Benson +couldn't understand his allowing himself to be placed in such an awkward +situation. Why the dickens had he invited the Denbigh woman to the X Y +Z? He must have been at the Manor long enough during Old Nick's illness +to have found her out. He brought his thoughts back to the present in +time to hear Felice say:</p> + +<p>"Shall we go on to Slippy Bend, Mr. Greyson? Your sister gave us some +commissions to execute there. So long, Stevie! You'll come over for a +game of auction to-night, of course. You and I against mine host and +Paula." She didn't wait for his answer. Without a glance in the +direction of Peg and Benson she wheeled her horse and rode away. Greyson +waved his hat to Peg, called something to her companions and cantered +after his guest. For one long, silent moment Courtlandt followed the two +with his eyes, then he resumed his directions to Benson where he had +dropped them.</p> + +<p>"Tell Mrs. Simms to have Simms report to me to-morrow noon at the ranch. +Show Peg over Upper Farm. She won't insist upon being personally +conducted by me, I'll wager. Get your lunch there. Mrs. Simms' jelly +cookies will make you purr with repletion, Peggy. I told Ming Soy that +we wouldn't be back till late afternoon. Take your time. Don't let Peg +ride too hard. Jerry won't be anxious. She knows what distances are +here."</p> + +<p>"But, Steve, don't you need me? I can take Miss Glamorgan back and join +you."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm riding alone. I have a few fairly fresh trails to follow up. Be +a good child, Peg-o'-my-heart, and do exactly what the best range-rider +on the Double O tells you to do." He laughed at her indignant eyes, +touched Blue Devil with his heel and loped off. Peggy looked after him +and then at Benson.</p> + +<p>"I wonder—I don't like that Denbigh woman. Did you see her eyes when +Steve turned her down? Careful Cosmetics is the name for her. She must +think it's the open season for vamps round here." She looked at Tommy +with laughter and a glint of mischief in her hazel eyes. "Now I wonder +who Steve could have meant by the best range-rider of the Double O?" she +mused in a low voice as though communing with herself.</p> + +<p>Benson swept off his Stetson with swash-buckling impressiveness.</p> + +<p>"I don't like to talk about myself—but," he murmured with exaggerated +humility, "I'll say that I—now who the dickens is that? The Simms kid. +Johnny Simms. What does he want? I——" His voice trailed off into +silence as he watched a boy who came galloping up on a pony to speak to +Courtlandt. Tommy unconsciously caught the bridle of the girl's horse. +Bubbles and Soapy, who had been paddock mates, nuzzled noses. The girl +and man watching saw the boy hand Steve a paper, then whirl and gallop +away as though pursued by a thousand furies.</p> + +<p>"That's queer," Benson observed under his breath.</p> + +<p>"What's queer?" asked Peggy in the same hushed whisper.</p> + +<p>"That the boy should break away like that. He adores Steve. So do the +other Simms kids. Now what is Courtlandt doing? Burning something?" as +a wisp of smoke fell to the ground.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you go and find out?" in a tone which was own cousin to his.</p> + +<p>"Nothing doing. You don't know Steve. I'm here; he knows it. He never +misses a trick. If he wants me he'll shout. There, you see? He doesn't," +as Courtlandt, after a glance at the ground where the smoke had fallen, +galloped across the field toward the ranch road.</p> + +<p>"You're fond of Steve, aren't you?" Peggy probed as they headed their +horses toward Upper Farm.</p> + +<p>"Fond of him! That's a deleted, diluted expression of my sentiments for +the Whistling Lieut. We literally went through fire and water overseas; +since then I've been on the ranch. You see, the German Inn where Steve +and I sojourned for a couple of months didn't have a particularly +beneficial effect on my health, so when I got back to the good old U. S. +A. I came here to recuperate and I have stayed."</p> + +<p>"Haven't you any family?"</p> + +<p>"I have. One devoted, in-perfect-condition mother, 1921 model, ditto +father. She is coming out next week. Hasn't your sister written you +about me?" curiously.</p> + +<p>"What conceit! She hasn't written pages about you," with a laugh which +sent the color to his face in a flood. "She wrote that you were here, +that Steve said that you had a future if you'd stick to ranching and +leave celluloid alone—now what did he mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"So Steve said that I was a man with a future, did he? Make a mental +note of that, Miss Glamorgan," his tone and look brought a startled +flash to eyes which had been so boyishly friendly. He steadied his voice +before he went on: "I've had a fool idea that I wanted to be a +movie-actor—but——"</p> + +<p>"But don't you want to any more?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"When did you experience a change of heart?"</p> + +<p>"This morning at exactly two o'clock, I decided that there was nothing +in it, that I wanted to be a solid citizen with a settled abiding +place."</p> + +<p>"Two o'clock! Why, that was when I reached Slippy——" With heightened +color she tightened her rein and touched Bubbles with her heels. "I'll +race you to the farmhouse," she called over her shoulder, a curious +breathlessness in her voice. She kept the lead till they reached the +gate of the farm, then Benson caught her horse by the bridle.</p> + +<p>"The back of your head is attractive but I like your face better. Don't +you want to hear the romantic story of Mrs. Simms before we get there? +She's a Heart and Ringer."</p> + +<p>"A—a what?"</p> + +<p>It was no longer necessary to hold the bridle of the girl's horse. She +forced him to a walk.</p> + +<p>"Heart and Ringer. That is what they call the women who marry men who +advertise in the matrimonial sheet, Heart and Ring."</p> + +<p>"Really, Tommy! Did Mrs. Simms do that?"</p> + +<p>"She did, and she got just what she paid for. Simms is a bounder but +he's thrifty as the dickens and an A 1 workman. That's what caught Old +Nick in the beginning. He'd have employed the devil himself had he those +characteristics. But the man is ugly and insolent. How Steve puts up +with him beats me. It is because of Mrs. Simms, I suppose. She is a fine +woman and a corker in the dairy. She lived in Montana. She was the +daughter of a miner who had made his pile and gone to farming. Montana +got on her nerves, so when she saw Simms' 'ad' in Heart and Ring she +corresponded with him and married him. I'll bet a hat Montana has looked +like heaven to her ever since. That was one of their children who met +Steve. I'd give my Kipling de luxe to know why."</p> + +<p>He drew rein before the white farmhouse which hugged the ground like a +mammoth brooding hen. In the field beyond was a spatter effect of snowy +dairies and cow-barns. Black and white Holsteins, creamy Jerseys, +Guernseys and a few Ayreshires grazed epicureanly in the lush pastures +that climbed the foot-hills.</p> + +<p>A slender, wiry woman, who gave a fresh-from-the-laundry impression, so +immaculate, so clear of skin, so smooth of hair was she, greeted Peg and +Benson as they dismounted. Her smile was obliterated as Tommy's eyes +lingered on her arm. She hastily pulled down her sleeves and buttoned +them snugly at the wrists.</p> + +<p>"It sure is fine to see you, Mr. Benson. You ain't taken my advice so +soon and got a wife, have you?" she asked with a laugh and twinkle in +the eyes which nature had intended for a merry blue, but which Life, +aided and abetted by Heart and Ring and—Simms, had threshed to an +apprehensive gray.</p> + +<p>"No such luck, Mrs. Simms. This is Mrs. Courtlandt's sister, Miss +Margaret Glamorgan. We came with a message from the Chief for Simms. +Where is he? At the dairy?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure pleased to know you, Miss. Simms has gone to—to Slippy Bend, +Mr. Tommy."</p> + +<p>"She's lying," Benson decided, even as he directed: "When he gets back +tell him to report at the office to-morrow noon, sharp, with his +accounts. Has he been up to his old tricks again?" His eyes fell as +though by accident to her arms.</p> + +<p>The woman's eyes, her lips, changed in expression. It was as though her +features, red-hot with life and interest, had been run into a mold and +hardened.</p> + +<p>"He has that, Mr. Tommy."</p> + +<p>"Is there any use in repeating what I have said before, that you ought +to leave him?"</p> + +<p>"An' I say as I said before, you're wrong, Mr. Tommy. I promised in the +sight of God and man to stick to him as long as we both lived. I wasn't +forced to marry Simms. I did it of my own free Will—my own fool will," +contemptuously. "I'd be a fine example to my children, wouldn't I, if I +tried to get out of marriage just because it wasn't the romantic +joy-ride I'd expected. It would be different if Simms abused the +children; he never lays a hand on 'em. He wouldn't dare," with a glitter +in her eyes. "You and Mr. Tommy'll stay and have a bite of lunch with +us, won't you, Miss? Mr. Courtlandt always has his when he comes."</p> + +<p>Her change of voice and subject was so sudden that it caught Peggy's +hazel eyes, glistening with tears, fixed upon her face. The girl blinked +the mist away, slipped her hand under the woman's firm arm and inquired +with irresistible charm:</p> + +<p>"Will there be jelly cookies, Mrs. Simms?"</p> + +<p>The blue came back to the eyes for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Surely. Aha, Mr. Tommy, now I know what you came for."</p> + +<p>"I didn't tell her about them. It was the Big Chief."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Steve!" The blue suffered a total eclipse. "Did he come with you?"</p> + +<p>"As far as Lower Field. By the way, what's wrong with Johnny? He +galloped up to Courtlandt, stuck out his hand, then beat it."</p> + +<p>"But he stuck out his hand?"</p> + +<p>"Surest thing you know."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simms exhaled to the limit of her flat chest.</p> + +<p>"That's all right, then. Johnny—Johnny found a sparkling stone—and he +said as how he thought 'twas gold—and he's—he's pestered me to death +till I told him he could ask Mr. Steve if he could stake off a claim. +Minin's in his blood. My father was a miner, Miss. I guess I'd better +get busy about dinner, not stand talking here," she explained as she +hurried away.</p> + +<p>Benson's eyes followed her as he perched on a corner of the porch +railing and lighted his pipe. Peg had gone into the house to help. He +could hear the two voices, the woman's a high strident tone, the girl's +like music with a joyous note running through it. The delectable odor of +bacon and frying chicken drifted out to him and set his already rampant +appetite clamoring for satisfaction. Mrs. Simms had cut that boy and +pebble story from whole cloth, if he was a judge of human nature, and +he'd bet his last dollar that he was, Benson thought, as he changed his +seat to one from which he could look inside the room which served as +living-room and dining-room at Upper Farm.</p> + +<p>It was for all the world like the pictures one saw in mail-order +catalogues, he thought with a smile. There was an old-time melodion in +one corner and an up-to-date phonograph in another. There was golden oak +furniture in profusion. The walls were covered with a paper on which +impossible roses fought for supremacy with more impossible alleged birds +of paradise. How could a person think between such walls, Tommy +wondered. He had the feeling as he looked that birds and roses were +being stuffed down his throat. In the midst of his reflections Mrs. +Simms called him.</p> + +<p>The three children slipped shyly into their chairs after the strangers +were seated. They were boys, ranging in age from four to ten. Johnny had +not come home, apparently. They had almost white hair and eyes shaped +like the eyes of sculpins, which they kept fixed on Peggy Glamorgan, +after the hypnotic effect of the company blue and white checked +table-cloth, the pressed glass spoon-holder, and the best gold-banded +plates with a big S in a funereal-like wreath on the border, had worn +off.</p> + +<p>Benson smiled to himself as he watched them. They were doing frankly and +unreproved what he longed to do. Extreme youth had some compensations. +He lost himself in a radiant dream of possibilities and became as +absorbed with his inward vision as the scions of the house of Simms were +with the material and fascinating Peg herself. He was quite unconscious +that the girl was observing him in amused wonder.</p> + +<p>"What did Johnny mean by staking a claim, Mrs. Simms?" she inquired as +with the air of a dainty gourmand she set her teeth in a second cookie. +"I would have asked Mr. Benson, but who am I to rouse him from his dream +of—of fair women, perhaps—yes?" with a ripple of laughter.</p> + +<p>Tommy roused with a start and colored generously.</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon, I was——"</p> + +<p>"That's what miners do when they think they've found gold," interrupted +Mrs. Simms, quite unconscious of the byplay. "They stake off a lot of +land and post it. Sometimes they don't work it for a year or more."</p> + +<p>"Then why take possession? Isn't that dog-in-the-manger stuff?"</p> + +<p>"No, because they really want it. They stake their claim so that no +other man can get it," broke in Benson. "And if you ask me, I'll say +that it's a whale of an idea," he added with a curious light in his +eyes. "Young woman, if you have finished your cookie gorge we will +depart."</p> + +<p>"Cookie gorge! Slanderer! Mrs. Simms, did I eat as many as he?"</p> + +<p>"Don't perjure yourself, Mrs. Simms. Come, Peg-o'-my-heart!" He realized +that his eyes were acting as town-criers for his emotions and shifted +his gaze from the girl to the woman. She sensed their message and +exclaimed impulsively:</p> + +<p>"My stars, ain't it great to be young and—and free!"</p> + +<p>"You've said it, Mrs. Simms," agreed Peg with her woman-of-the-world air +as she drew on her riding gloves. "Catch me settling down. Never! And +that's that!"</p> + +<p>The woman's troubled eyes sought Benson's. He laughed and held out his +hand. "Good-bye, Mrs. Simms. Don't you worry. Having attained the +titanic and imposing age of eighteen the lady would naturally have +caustic views on matrimony. It will come out right and—and that's +that!" he observed cryptically. "Be sure that Simms reports to-morrow. +The Big Chief has about all he can handle now; we don't want him +worried."</p> + +<p>It was not until Benson and Peg neared the Double O ranch that they +came back to the subject of their late hostess. They had spent a lazy, +happy afternoon, making Tommy's daily round of inspection which he +usually covered in two hours.</p> + +<p>"Do you think Simms hurts her?" the girl broke out suddenly, apropos of +nothing. "Did you see those marks on her arm? Why, oh why, does she stay +with him?" with a shudder.</p> + +<p>"You heard why."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and do you know what I saw when she said that about God and man? I +didn't see her at all; it was a close-up of Jerry's eyes at her wedding, +and the clergyman saying, 'And forsaking all others.' Those words echoed +in my brain for days. Jerry is like Mrs. Simms. She'd keep a vow like +that if it killed her."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"You never can tell," flippantly. "At least I don't intend to get into a +position where I'll have to for years—and—years—and years——" The +last words floated back to him with laughter as she galloped off. She +kept the breakneck pace till she pulled up at the court entrance. Benson +was off his horse before she could dismount. He lifted her from the +saddle and with his arms about her drew her into the garden.</p> + +<p>"I won't take possession till you give me leave,—but—but I—I'll stake +my claim now, and that's that!" he whispered huskily as he kissed her +once upon her white throat.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Tommee! Mr. Tommee Benson!" called a voice from the path as Ming +Soy in her gay silks came running toward them. Her slant eyes were +almost wide. "Misses Stevie went off on horse after lunch. Tlell Ming +Soy just going to flield; Ming Soy bleat glong when you and little +Missis come, but she didn't go to flield, and she never come back—not +all this time."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + + +<p>Jerry Courtlandt lingered on the porch to watch her sister and Benson as +they raced down the drive. Her eyebrows met in a thoughtful frown. What +would her father say if Peg fell in love with Benson, with his +poor-but-honest background? There was no "if" about Tommy. Cupid had set +signal fires to burning in his eyes already. Benson pere had begun his +business career as an errand boy; now he twinkled a large and somewhat +dazzling planet in the select heaven of the multies. Well, Glamorgan the +oil-king couldn't expect both his daughters to marry the man of his +choice. She had done it and what had been her reward? Because she had +views as to right and wrong and justice he refused to write to her. +Evidently Peg didn't know the terms of Nicholas Fairfax's will or she +wouldn't have been surprised at her lack of enthusiasm about the +Alexandrite. Two thousand dollars! It seemed a more stupendous sum than +twenty thousand would have seemed to her a year ago. Values were curious +things. What had Steve thought? She was beginning to dread his +eyes—they were so searching, so compelling.</p> + +<p>If she wanted and needed money, she would earn it; other women had been +doing it for years; she wouldn't accept it from Steve any other way. In +spite of his prohibition she would work on the books for a while. She +paused before she entered the house to draw a long breath and take a +look at the glorious world about her. The sky spread like a cerulean +canopy flecked with motionless white clouds. It seemed near. She felt +more as though she were looking up at a vast, decorated dome than at the +heavens. Almost she expected to see Dawn or any one of the symbolic +head-liners in the mural world, come trailing her scanty draperies +across the blue. The far-off mountains reared a patchwork of purple and +blue and gold. The noisy stream was fringed with color. The fields +rustled their content in the sunshine. On the road to the X Y Z rose a +cloud of dust.</p> + +<p>"Somebody coming!" she thought with a thrill of excitement. Then she +laughed and looked down at the dog who stood in stately, aloof dignity +beside her. "Goober, I'm getting to be like a prairie-dog who parks +outside his hole to see the pass," she confided. She still watched the +approaching riders. When she recognized in them Felice Denbigh and Bruce +Greyson she regretted that she had lingered. It was too late to +disappear now. The owner of the X Y Z had seen her and waved his hand. +With a feeling of repugnance, which shocked her even as it swept her, +Jerry went to the steps to greet the riders. Felice in her smart silvery +linen looked as though she had been removed recently from tissue +wrappings. Greyson's eyes met Jerry's. Was she mistaken that they were +full of a wordless apology, she wondered, even as she greeted the two +cordially.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't this morning look as though it had just been returned from the +dry-cleanser's?" she asked gayly. "Did you ever feel anything more spick +and span than the air? Won't you come in?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, no." Felice Denbigh's answer was hurried. "Where is Steve? He +invited me to inspect the Double O with him this morning. He was to come +for me but I tired of the rôle of patient Griselda and made Mr. Greyson +bring me over. Not that I had to work hard to persuade him." Her light +tone was tinged with malice as she administered one of those subtle +female digs commonly imperceptible to the male intelligence. Jerry +caught the obvious reply between her teeth and substituted:</p> + +<p>"Steve was called to Lower Field. I—I doubt if he can ride with you +this morning, Mrs. Denbigh."</p> + +<p>If a glance could have accomplished it, Jerry would have been neatly and +expeditiously skinned, then and there. Felice's voice had the edge of a +hari-kari sword as she answered:</p> + +<p>"Steve is the person to decide that. Which way to Lower Field, Mr. +Greyson?" Her host's eyes flamed.</p> + +<p>"If Mrs. Courtlandt thinks——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but Mrs. Courtlandt doesn't think," protested Jerry laughingly. "Do +show Mrs. Denbigh the way to Lower Field, Bruce. I should be delighted +to go myself but for a letter which must be ready for Sandy this +morning. You will find——"</p> + +<p>Felice Denbigh was off before she had finished her sentence. Greyson +followed without a word. Jerry looked after the two with troubled eyes. +Her thoughts were in a turmoil.</p> + +<p>"What has happened to Bruce Greyson?" she thought anxiously. "His +conversational output has shrunk till what he says seems a waste of +breath, it amounts to so little. One would think he was under a spell. I +wonder—I wonder if Steve did make a date with her?" she mused aloud as +she crossed the court on her way to the office. José, busy among his +flowers, swept off his hat with his single-tooth smile.</p> + +<p>"<i>Buenos dias, Señora.</i> My roses bloom brighter as you pass, yes?" +Benito, balancing on one claw on the rim of the fountain, shivered, +blinked his yellow eyes and croaked hoarsely:</p> + +<p>"Piffle!"</p> + +<p>With a shocked exclamation José flung a chunk of loam at the parrot. It +hit him squarely and knocked him backward into the shallow basin. With +frightened squawks and much ruffling of feathers the bird regained his +place on the basin's rim. For an instant he indulged in a what-hit-me +blink, then with his gaudy plumage looking as though it had been +electrified croaked angrily:</p> + +<p>"I'll be d——!"</p> + +<p>José swooped and muffled the final word beneath his coat. "You weel +pardon, Señora? It is Señor Tommee that teaches Benito seence he come to +the rancho. I teach heem when he ees so leetle to speak only good. Not +till one year ago does he begin to talk like wild devil. Señora weel +pardon? He ees all I have, he ees like my child."</p> + +<p>Jerry accepted the brown man's apology as seriously as it was offered.</p> + +<p>"Children are a great responsibility. You never can tell what they will +do, can you, José?"</p> + +<p>The office seemed a dull, uninteresting drab in contrast to the light +and color of the world outside. Even the silent witnesses to the drama +and lawlessness of the country, now guarded jealously by glass doors, +failed to spur the girl's imagination. She streamed the curtain up at +the window. A light haze of dust lingered above the road Greyson and +Felice had taken. The music of the stream stole into the quiet room; +down in the corral a horse whinnied intriguingly; the whole gleaming +out-of-doors lured, the mountains beckoned.</p> + +<p>Jerry resolutely barred heart and mind against temptation and attacked +her letters. She worked with single-track intentness until Ming Soy +announced luncheon. She looked up in surprise. Her work had burned up +the hours. She interned the typewriter and closed her desk with a bang. +She flexed her muscles in luxurious enjoyment of the sensation. What a +relief to move, but it wasn't even a sliver of the relief she felt when +she looked down at the sheaf of letters awaiting Steve's signature. How +it would have pleased her father to know that she had resisted the +temptation to be up and away on Patches, she thought wistfully. She +could see him now, hear his gruff voice saying:</p> + +<p>"Jerry, the more you dread the thing you have to do, the more you should +hustle to get it behind you. Make that a rule of your life and you'll +find you will have all the time you want and some left with which to +speculate." He was a resplendent example of the working out of his own +precept, his daughter thought. He was the busiest man she knew yet he +always had an abundance of time for pleasure.</p> + +<p>What should she do with her afternoon, she wondered, as she enjoyed the +dainty luncheon Ming Soy served in a shady corner of the court. The air +had lost the keenness of the morning. Birds flew to the rim of the +basin, observed the girl at the table critically for an instant, then +proceeded with the day's ablutions. They chattered, they splashed, they +scolded, they preened and dressed their feathers in the sun. Butterflies +darted in and out among the blossoms. There were none of the usual ranch +sounds to break the stillness. Where were the men? Had Steve taken them +all with him, she wondered. What were Peg and Tommy doing? Peg might see +some real riding if she caught up with the outfit before they started +off in pursuit of the missing cattle, but alas for buckskin fringes +and——</p> + +<p>Suddenly a plan sprang full panoplied, complete, from her brain. It was +born of her what-shall-I-do-now mood. If necessity is the mother of +invention, idleness is the father of adventure. She would array herself +in one of the cowboy suits behind the glass doors, mount Patches and +ride to the field behind the ranch-house, practise with a six-shooter +until Peg came, then she'd dash toward her with her gun "spittin' death +and damnation" into the air.</p> + +<p>Her idea developed with magic-beanstalk rapidity, as all ideas will if +they are dropped in fertile and well-cultivated soil. She laughed until +she was breathless as she confronted herself in the mirror in her own +room an hour later. Over her linen riding breeches she had drawn a pair +of flapping black and white Angora chaps. Great Mexican rowels adorned +her riding boots. A hectic yellow bandana, with red spots which gave the +cheery effect of a geometrical nosebleed, almost covered her delicate +blouse. Her sleeves were rolled to the elbows, at her hip swung a +six-shooter of sinister portent. A heavy belt filled with cartridges +sagged from her waist. She had slipped a silver filigree band above the +black and gold cord of Steve's campaign hat.</p> + +<p>In a little whirlwind of laughter she blew a kiss to the gleaming eyes +of her vis-à-vis and lifted the saddle which she had purloined from the +glass case. It was gay with silver. The tapideros were choice examples +of Mexican craftsmanship. The head-stall of the bridle was fantastically +trimmed with the metal. As Jerry passed through the living-room the huge +rowels on her boots caught in the rug. She dropped the saddle with a +crash and caught at the table to save herself from falling. Her eyes +were bright, her cheeks pink when she had Patches saddled. She had +brought him up from the corral herself before she dressed. He rolled +his great eyes at her as she came out of the house. He pranced +skittishly until she spoke. Then he quieted but he kept an appraising, +suspicious eye on her. As the crowning touch of realism Jerry fastened a +coil of rawhide rope beside the saddle fork.</p> + +<p>It was with difficulty, punctuated by <i>sotto voce</i> exclamations, that +the girl mounted. The chaps were heavy and perversely unadaptable. As +she gathered up the reins Ming Soy appeared at the door. The little +Oriental's eyes were globules of wonder. Jerry anticipated her.</p> + +<p>"I am off to practise shooting in the field behind the house, Ming Soy. +Don't be frightened if you hear shots. Watch the road for Miss Glamorgan +and Mr. Benson. They ought to be here within an hour. The moment they +appear in sight sound the gong at the back of the ranch-house. Do you +understand?"</p> + +<p>"All light. Ming Soy understan'. Slandy tlell Hopi Soy he see Clarey +range-rider ketch Double O steers, other day. Said first he thought he +doin' it for Hopi Soy's chief, so he doan't say nodin'. Now he wonder."</p> + +<p>"Ming Soy! Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Slandy tlell Hopi Soy he see um ketch um. Clarey range-rider drove +steers over hill black of Blear Cleek ranch, Slandy tlell Hopi Soy."</p> + +<p>"Ming Soy, don't let anyone know you told me that."</p> + +<p>"All light, Ming Soy no tlell."</p> + +<p>Jerry didn't know why she put that embargo on the Chinese woman's +tongue. Perhaps a vague fear that a warning would get to the thief +prompted it. The girl's mind was in a tumult as she raced Patches along +the road. She didn't stop to unfasten the gate, she jumped it. As she +entered the field which led to the stream she had quite forgotten the +exhibition she had staged for Peg. She had suspected that range-rider of +crookedness. Absorbed in thought she allowed Patches to race across the +rustic bridge. The thud of his hoofs on the wood brought her back to the +present. She pulled the horse down to a walk. Where was she going? To +see what was on the other side of that ridge beyond which the +range-rider had disappeared!</p> + +<p>She followed the pack-trail cautiously. Bear Creek ranch-house in the +glare of sunshine was outlined distinctly against the dark cliff behind +it. Was it only this morning that she had come out of that door to find +Steve waiting for her? She had the curious feeling of being in another +decade. How were things going with the little mother, she wondered +and—and where was the Man of Mystery?</p> + +<p>She touched Patches lightly with the great spurs and raced along the +trail toward the hill. It didn't seem possible that the man who had +seemed so concerned when he came for her last night could be a +rustler—but Sandy had seen him and the calves were missing. Her +thoughts urged her on. She was the one person of authority within reach. +She didn't know just what she intended to do, but she must do something. +She only knew that a frenzied voice somewhere inside her head kept +reiterating:</p> + +<p>"He shan't get away with it! He shan't get away with it!"</p> + +<p>Once as she climbed the hill she thought she saw a horse's head behind a +tree. Her heart choked her with its pounding. The object proved to be +nothing more intimidating than a black stump. When she reached the top +of the slope she came upon a clump of dead trees standing spectral and +white. She rode through them till she emerged in a clearing from which +she could look down into the valley.</p> + +<p>Below lay a trough of the hills. Heat waves pulsed above it. Over its +surface, pockmarked with gopher holes, tumbleweed rolled and billowed +and stacked against rocks and fallen timber in uncanny, shifting masses. +Purple-gray and green sage-brush dotted it. Alkali whitened it in +streaks. Beyond the hollow stretched a belt of upheaved ridges of +brick-red sandstone. Between each ridge lay emerald green valleys with +little streams cutting through at nearly right angles. Higher and higher +rose the hills beyond till they loomed to mountains whose sides were +clothed with forests that had never paid toll to the lumber-jack, whose +snowy peaks, gold now in the sunshine, bared their jagged fangs to the +soft blue of the sky. They lured and beckoned with their mysterious +silences.</p> + +<p>At the base of the slope on which Jerry stood was a circular hole +perhaps three hundred feet in diameter and ten feet deep. At one side of +it, near a pool, were the unmistakable traces of a camp. There were the +ashes of a fire and beside them the mutilated body of a calf. The place +gave an intangible sense of tragedy and terror.</p> + +<p>Stepping as though the ground under her feet were a network of mines, +any one of which might be jarred into disastrous activity by an +inadvertent pressure of her foot, Jerry led Patches among the trees and +fastened him. She stole back over the carpet of pine needles, her chaps +flapping awkwardly at every step. She threw herself flat on the ground +from which she could see the hollow and waited. From somewhere came the +howl of a coyote; there seemed a million of them when the hills sent +back the echo. High and motionless in the sky a great bird poised to +reconnoiter then sailed and wheeled and dove. A gopher in front of his +hole beat Jack-in-the-box at his disappearing trick.</p> + +<p>Jerry shivered. Now she knew where she was, "Buzzard's Hollow." She +hated the wailing coyote and she cared less, even less, for that +horrible winged thing by the pool. Had the Bear Creek range-rider joined +the campers? If she could only see the brand on that calf. But she +couldn't; it would be madness to go down into the hollow. She must hurry +back to the Double O and report. Slowman, the corral boss, would be +there if no one else was. Someone should see that calf before the +buzzards had obliterated all trace of the owner.</p> + +<p>The girl sprang to her feet and ran to unloose Patches. Now that she had +decided to go her courage was disappearing as rapidly as vapor in the +sunshine. How terrifyingly empty of anything human the great spaces +seemed. She saw a menace behind every bush, a lurking danger behind +every tree. Apparently Patches' imagination was working overtime too. It +was a nervous horse she mounted but, as she turned toward the trail +which led to the Double O and safety, something drew her round. Perhaps +it was a sound, perhaps the lazy blue sweep of the mountains hypnotized +her. She guided Patches to the clearing from which she looked down into +the hollow. She couldn't have explained why she did it; it might have +been a morbid curiosity to see if the great bird was feasting on the +carrion. Her horse showed increased nervousness with every step. He +began to shake. Jerry slipped to the ground and laid her face against +his soft nose.</p> + +<p>"What is it, boy? We're going back——"</p> + +<p>A howl, a hair-raising mixture of banshee-wail and wildcat scream, +callioped behind them. Patches stood not upon the order of his going but +went at once. Snorting with terror he jerked the bridle from the girl's +hand and racketed down the hillside toward the hollow. For a moment +Jerry was rigid with terror, then she gripped her stampeding senses.</p> + +<p>She must think. She was alone with that yelling demon—she couldn't get +home without her horse—her next move was to follow Patches—he would +get over his fright and answer her call. The dangling six-shooter at her +side gave her courage. If her silly masquerading as a cowboy had done +nothing else, it had given her that.</p> + +<p>She slipped and slid down the slope. She caught at shrubs and stumps to +retard her too impetuous progress; they sampled the fringes of her black +and white chaps as she went by. She stubbed her toe upon a piece of +rock. The next instant it seemed to her excited fancy as though the +hillside gave way and took her with it.</p> + +<p>"Detour!" she chuckled hysterically as down, down, down she went with a +mass of dirt and gravel. She shielded her face with one hand as with the +other she made futile grabs at the ground. It seemed as though eons of +time passed as she rolled down the hill. Steve's hat went bounding down +ahead of her. "I wonder how many miles I've gone now?" she thought with +a frightened laugh. Then, as suddenly as she had started she stopped +against something big and weather-stained and unyielding.</p> + +<p>She lay passive for a moment looking up in dazed surprise. She was lying +beside a wooden shack. Strange that she had not seen it when she looked +down into the hollow. It must have been directly under the bank from +which she made her reconnaisance. She shut her eyes and stilled a cry as +she felt a hot breath on her cheek. Had the wildcat—she set her teeth +and looked up between cautiously parted lids—looked up into the brown +eyes of Patches. The horse was reeking wet, but he had stopped +trembling. His lips twitched against her cheek with a clumsy, quivering +caress. With a sob of thanksgiving Jerry threw her arms about his neck +and tried to rise. She fell back with a frightened laugh. From her waist +down she was buried in earth.</p> + +<p>She controlled a frantic desire to attack the gravel furiously and +scooped it away with slow and telling precision. Patches waited +patiently. Possibly he realized that having landed his mistress in the +dilemma it was only a square deal that he stand by. Jerry's heart +pounded as she scooped. What was on the other side of that wooden wall? +The headquarters of Ranlett and his gang? Was the calf lying in the +hollow one of those the range-rider had appropriated from the Double O?</p> + +<p>The gravel half removed the girl flung her arms about the horse's neck +and drew herself free. The black and white chaps remained partially +covered in earth and sand. Jerry took account of the damages. There was +a stinging, smarting scratch along one cheek, the sleeve of her blouse +was torn from the shoulder, her hair was a mass on her shoulders. +Nothing serious, she congratulated herself, as she tidied her hair, +removed a jeweled bar-pin from under the flamboyant bandana, and +fastened her sleeve in place with it. The scratch was the only real +casualty. Now that she was here she wondered if she couldn't find the +brand on that calf herself.</p> + +<p>Cautiously she tied Patches to a stump. The click of his hoof against a +rock sent her heart fluttering to her throat. She shrank against the +house and held her breath. No sound came from within or from the hollow. +She must have frightened off everything alive when she came crashing +down the hill.</p> + +<p>Reassured she picked up her hat which had landed near her and put it on. +It was curious what courage the touch of it gave her. It was as though +Steve had spoken. She could almost hear his "Steady, little girl, +steady!" She tiptoed round to the front of the shack. The slanting sun +shone on two dirty windows in sagging frames from which some of the +panes had been broken. In one of the survivors a round hole radiating +tiny cracks told a story without words. Desertion had laid its spell on +the place. The cabin was roofed with dirt and hay. Its board sides were +warped and weather-stained. The door in the middle sagged and swung +uncannily in the light breeze. What lay behind it? Evidence that would +convict Ranlett?</p> + +<p>Her heart pounding out the measure of her racing blood Jerry laid her +hand on the rusty iron handle of the door. Its hinges creaked dolorously +as she swung it wide. The sound echoed curiously within the empty +shack—but—was it an echo? The doubt sent a million little icy shivers +pricking through Jerry's veins. Her heart winged to her throat. She +swallowed it valiantly and put a hesitating foot across the threshold.</p> + +<p>It took an instant for her eyes to adjust themselves to the dimness +after the glare outside. Then the furnishings begun to take shape. A +cracked stove, red with rust, stood against the wall opposite; there was +a table with shreds of oilcloth hanging from it; a chair which had been +fashioned from a packing-box leaned against the table in three-legged +dejection; the door of a cupboard hung on one hinge displaying an array +of crockery and tin, in all stages of dilapidation and rust. Across one +end of the room was a built-in bunk. A ragged saddle-blanket trailed +from the side of it.</p> + +<p>What—what—was that! Had her imagination tricked her or had that dirty +blanket stirred? Jerry clutched the door. Even as she stood there, too +frightened to move, there came the muffled sound which she had thought +was an echo. Her vague sense of tragedy merged into something tangible +and threatening. Someone was under that blanket! Was it an injured +man—or—or—was it a decoy?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + + +<p>Jerry never knew how long she stood with her eyes fixed in fascinated +terror on that heap in the bunk. Should she mount Patches as soon as her +frenzied feet would take her to him, or should she stay and help the man +if he were wounded? Head urged flight, heart urged help. She remembered +the parable of the Good Samaritan only to remind herself that the +rescuer had been a man.</p> + +<p>Another moan from the bunk decided her. Setting the door wide she drew +the six-shooter from its holster; unloaded even, it gave her a feeling +of strategic advantage, and with the gun gripped tight in her hand +tiptoed across the room. Every vestige of color had fled from her face +as with icy, shaking fingers she lifted a corner of the dingy blanket. +Under it a man lay on his face his hands and feet securely tied.</p> + +<p>"Beechy!"</p> + +<p>The four walls flung back the girl's hoarse whisper.</p> + +<p>"Beechy!" "Beechy!" "Beechy!" they chorused.</p> + +<p>Jerry looked down in dumb incredulity. She recognized the rampant +reddish, hair, the dent at the corner of one exposed eye. As though her +voice had penetrated to his consciousness the man rolled toward her. The +six-shooter clattered to the floor. The stunning effect of her discovery +was quickly tempered by the man's condition. Beechy, the man who had +saved Steve's life, was hurt, helpless. Her fingers attacked the knots +in the rope which bound him. She tugged, she pulled without making the +least impression. Was there not something in the room which would cut? +The minutes were flying! Someone might come. She ran to the cupboard and +seized a tin can. The cover was jagged. She tried to saw the rope with +that but it made no impression on the twisted hemp. She threw it from +her and looked about the room again—then—she rubbed her eyes; was that +a knife sticking in the wall above the bunk—or was she just seeing it?</p> + +<p>She stepped up on the edge of the bunk and touched it. It was real! With +an inarticulate cry of triumph the girl seized it. With teeth set hard +in her under lip she attacked the rope again. She stopped every few +moments to listen. Once she caught the far off call of a coyote—then +Patches whinnied. She dropped in a little heap on the floor, her hand +pressed hard against her heart to still its thumping—but nothing +stirred outside. She went on with her work. It seemed ages before she +had freed Beechy's arms and another century of time before the cords +were cut which bound his feet.</p> + +<p>She touched his head gently. There was no trace of blood. He must have +been stunned and tied, his captors relying upon the remoteness and +abandoned appearance of the shack to cover their work. Why had they done +it, Jerry wondered. Beechy had said that he had contracted to work on +the railroad. She remembered his answer to Steve's protest, "You know, +there is honor among thieves." Had he been linked up with Ranlett? But +Ranlett had nothing to do with the railroad.</p> + +<p>If she could only get him up. When she tried to lift him the clumsy +cartridge belt with the dangling holster kept getting in her way. With +an impatient exclamation she unfastened it and dropped it to the floor. +Then she slid the man's feet from the bunk, put her arms under him and +lifted him. His head rolled to her shoulder. How hot it was. If only she +had water! Her eyes roved about the cabin. No hope there. Through the +doorway, not twenty yards away, she could see the pool with the carcass +of the calf lying beyond it. With the possibility of lurking enemies, +had she the courage to go out to that?</p> + +<p>Beechy stirred and lifted heavy lids. The eyes beneath them were glazed +with pain. He looked about the room, then up at the face bending over +him. His gaze lingered a moment dreamily, then incredulously, then it +seemed as though his brain made a superhuman effort to break the spell +which bound it.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Lieut.!" he tried to get to his feet but his head rolled weakly +back to the girl's shoulder. "Go! Go!" he whispered hoarsely. He made +another effort to sit up. He gripped the edge of the bunk till the flesh +under his finger nails showed white. "If I could get water to—to cool +this—this devilish fire in my head—go—Ranlett——" his clearing gaze +fastened on the long scratch on her cheek—"For the love of—did they +get you too?"</p> + +<p>Jerry gently forced him back.</p> + +<p>"No—no, I fell. Lie still, Beechy, while I go for water. Every moment +that you keep quiet counts. Your head is not cut, there is nothing the +matter that I can discover except that you were stunned. Don't move +while I am gone. When I come back we will get away from here—we—we +must. Remember that my safety depends upon you now and keep perfectly +still until I come back."</p> + +<p>It was quite the reverse, his safety depended upon her, Jerry thought, +but she knew his type. Her need of his help would do more than anything +else to clear his mind. She picked up the tin can she had used as a saw +and went to the door. She looked back. Beechy was lying with closed +eyes, the lines about his mouth relaxed.</p> + +<p>The sun had dropped behind a high mountain. The air was sultry. A tinge +of rose had replaced the gold of the afternoon coloring. In the +southwest an unobtrusive bank of cloud had appeared. The tumbleweed +still stirred with every breath of air but everything else was still. +Jerry could see now, what she had not noticed from above, parallel +grooves in the ground through the middle of the hollow.</p> + +<p>"That's strange! Those ruts look like the marks of wagon wheels, but how +could a wagon get down here?" she thought. She hesitated an instant on +the threshold. Fortunately the pool was on a level with the cabin. Had +the shack been on the opposite side of the hollow she would have had a +ten-foot drop before she reached the level. The small body of water +looked a thousand miles away and the room behind her, which had seemed +sinister and forbidding a while before, seemed a haven of refuge now. So +quickly do values shift in the crises of life.</p> + +<p>"The more you dread the thing you have to do the more you should hustle +to get it behind you," Jerry admonished herself and made a dash for the +pool. For an instant the air seemed full of flapping, dark wings, then +it cleared. She kept her eyes resolutely away from the body of the calf. +The water was low. She had to lie flat to reach it. She wasted time in +trying to dip deep enough to get clear of the tumbleweed which floated +on top. When she had it to her satisfaction she sat back on her heels +and inspected the contents of the dripping can.</p> + +<p>"This will have to do," she announced to the world at large. "I——"</p> + +<p>"That depends on what you're getting it for, don't it?" inquired a voice +behind her.</p> + +<p>The insolence of it, the portent of it, brought Jerry to her feet. The +precious water slopped wastefully. She had the sense of suspended +animation as she looked up at the man sardonically observing her, then a +sense of sudden, ungovernable panic. It was the late manager of the +Double O with the bridle of his horse, The Piker, a big, lanky chestnut, +in his left hand.</p> + +<p>"Ranlett!"</p> + +<p>Her own frightened whisper infuriated her. She had spoken to the man +looming over her as seldom as she conveniently could; always she had +distrusted him. She looked at him now as though seeing him for the first +time. His black hair had a white streak from the middle of his forehead +to his neck, which had earned him the soubriquet of "The Skunk," from +the outfit; his eyes were steel gray, his thin-lipped mouth was nothing +more than a crooked slit in his face, his chin was stubborn. Jerry's +gaze returned to that feature and lingered. Apparently he was as amazed +to see her as she had been startled at his appearance. She felt as +though he had her wriggling under a microscope, pinned by the needle +points in his eyes as he observed caustically:</p> + +<p>"Well, now that you have sized me up it's my turn. What are you doing so +far from the Double O alone? Perhaps you're not alone, what?" His +attitude, the lines of his shoulders, his voice, bristled with +suspicion.</p> + +<p>The girl's mind indulged in one frenzied merry go-round before it +settled down to constructive thinking. For the first time in her life +she was squarely and uncompromisingly up against danger. Ranlett must +not suspect that she had been in the shack, that Beechy was unbound. He +might be in no way responsible for the condition in which she had found +the ex-sergeant, but she couldn't take a chance with Carl's, +"Ranlett—for the love of—did they get you too?" still echoing in her +ears. If she could only get him away from the place. The throbbing pulse +in her throat, which gave the impression of delicate wings beating +futilely against bars, was the only sign of her agitation as she +answered the man's question gayly.</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder you ask, Mr. Ranlett, I'm a sight." She laid a finger +cautiously against her scratched cheek and laughed. That laugh was a +masterpiece of its kind. "I started for Bear Creek to inquire for Mrs. +Carey, but yielded to the temptation to ride to the top of the hill. +Pandora with her box has nothing on me for curiosity. I was born with an +irresistible desire to look on the other side of things and places." The +sudden narrowing of his eyes set her to wondering what false note she +had struck, even as she went on:</p> + +<p>"When I dismounted the better to peer down into this hollow, something +gave a scream as of a thousand furies rampant." Her shudder was genuine. +"The sound did direful things to Patches' nerves. He bolted down the +hill. I bolted after him. I stumbled over something which must have been +the keystone of the slope, or its twin, for the hillside gave way and +landed me in an ignominious heap of dirt and gravel back of that shack. +A rolling body gathers some scratches," she paraphrased flippantly as +she felt again of her bruised face.</p> + +<p>"I'll say you're some little talker, Mrs. Courtlandt, when—when you're +frightened. You've never favored me with a word before," observed +Ranlett insolently.</p> + +<p>Two red spots burned like able-bodied beacons in Jerry's cheeks. She +knew that she had been garrulous, that she had been talking against +time, but it was maddening to be told so; the sound of her own voice had +sustained her courage. Every moment that she held the attention of the +late manager of the Double O counted for Beechy. It took all her +strength of purpose to keep her eyes from wandering to the door of the +shack. It acted like a malevolent magnet.</p> + +<p>"Where is your horse?"</p> + +<p>"Back of the cabin. I came here to get water for him."</p> + +<p>"Have you been in the shack?"</p> + +<p>"In the shack!" the shudder with which the girl turned her back upon it +would have made Nazimova pale with envy. "That—that gruesome place? +Rather not——"</p> + +<p>"Then you are not curious when it comes to empty houses? You're not +consistent, Pandora. Where did you get that can?"</p> + +<p>Jerry felt as though she were under a machine gun fire of words. The +man's insolence infuriated her. She didn't dare resent it for fear he +would leave her and investigate the cabin. She looked down at the can +she still held between finger and thumb, then at the bed of ashes +beside the pool.</p> + +<p>"Did I find it there or behind the shack?" She mused as though +interrogating herself, then quickly, "Is it yours? Take it if you want +it."</p> + +<p>"You know d—ed well that you didn't pick it up outside," Ranlett +exploded as he caught the girl by the shoulder; she felt his hot flesh +through her thin blouse. "You've been in that shack and you've——"</p> + +<p>"Take your hand away! Quick!" Jerry commanded, her voice hoarse, her +face white, her eyes blazing.</p> + +<p>"I'll let you go when I get good and ready." The man sunk his fingers +deeper into her shoulder to emphasize his words. "What's that yellow +coyote in there been telling you——"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' to your advantage, Ranlett. Put up your hands an' put 'em up +quick," interrupted a voice. It was Beechy, Beechy leveling Jerry's +villainous six-shooter at Ranlett's head. His face was white, one eye +was almost closed but he had an air of cocky unconcern.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Lieut., grab his horse. No you don't!" as the late manager of the +Double O, arms held high above his head, tried to trip the girl. A +bullet whizzed so close to his ear that Ranlett turned a sickly green. +"Yer see, I'm a little nervous. I'm used to this old-time six-shooter; +I've been using a Colt 45. I'll get the range better next time and it'll +come closer. I didn't get my expert rifleman badge in the army for +shootin' crap. Frisk his pockets, Mrs. Lieut." For the fraction of a +second Jerry hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Quick! Get busy, unless you want more of his pack down on us. That's +the stuff! Now you're talkin'," as the girl produced a corpulent +revolver from a hip pocket. Ranlett's voice was hoarse with fury as he +dared:</p> + +<p>"You'll need that gun, Beechy, when Courtlandt finds that you and the +missus have been meeting—you sure have a way with the ladies."</p> + +<p>Jerry's cry was submerged in Beechy's oath. The man's face was like +granite, as gray, as immovable. Only his eyes blazed. His tone was as +cold and passionless as his face.</p> + +<p>"Meanin'? You'll pay for that, Ranlett, but not now. Just for fear your +gang will butt in we'll make our getaway, but remember—I'm comin' back. +I want you and I want the feller that cracked my head. Hand me his gun, +Mrs. Lieut. Lead his horse and yours to the top of the hill and +wait—don't look around—get me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I get you, sergeant—but you won't——" Jerry hesitated with the +bridle of Ranlett's big chestnut in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Obey orders and obey 'em quick!"</p> + +<p>And Jerry obeyed. With the unflurried agility Tommy had taught her she +mounted Ranlett's horse and turned him in the direction of the shack. +The animal side-stepped and tried to look in the direction of his master +but the girl touched him with her spurs, and urged him on. She unhitched +Patches. She looked like a slender boy as she led him by a backward +stretched left hand up the slope. The moments that she spent ascending +were one long prayer that the hillside would not encore its disappearing +trick. She felt an irresistible desire to look back but she remembered +the salty fate of Lot's wife and kept doggedly on.</p> + +<p>As she gained the shelter of the pines at the top of the hill she heard +a shot. Her face went white. Who had fired it? Ranlett or Beechy? Beechy +was weak from the blow on his head; he could easily be overcome. She +listened. A flock of magpies lighted in the tree above her, observed the +strange figure below them for a moment then flew away in noisy haste. As +the sound of their raucous voices died in the distance Jerry heard +another sound, the sound of gravel slipping. Who was coming? She hastily +changed mounts and twisted her hand in the bridle of the big horse. If +it were Ranlett she would race at breakneck speed toward Greyson's, the +X Y Z was nearer than the Double O, taking The Piker with her. Her +breath came so hard it hurt her throat. Eyes dilated with excitement she +watched the brow of the hill. The sound of the slipping gravel came +nearer and nearer. Then she heard labored breathing. The suspense was +unendurable; she felt as though she must scream. A man staggered into +sight. It was Beechy. She slipped from her horse and called him softly.</p> + +<p>"This way! Quick!" As he stumbled toward her she noted the pallor of his +face. She didn't dare leave the horses to go to his assistance. With a +bridle in each hand she went forward to meet him.</p> + +<p>"I'm about all—in, Mrs. Lieut.," he panted. "The blow and this climb +have about finished a job the—war—started."</p> + +<p>She slipped her arm under his. Her eyes were tender with concern.</p> + +<p>"Lean on me a moment. You mustn't give way now, Beechy. Get on Ranlett's +horse. We must get away from here. He may follow." He laughed weakly.</p> + +<p>"Follow! Nothing doing. Just to make sure he wouldn't I put a bullet +through his leg. I couldn't have him interferin' with the job you an' I +have to put across. He'll go as far as the shack while the goin's good."</p> + +<p>"But he may starve!"</p> + +<p>"You should worry. There are provisions to withstand a siege cached +under that cabin. Forget him. If you're the good little sport I you are +you've got a job——"</p> + +<p>"Listen!"</p> + +<p>Jerry laid her hand over her heart. Beechy raised his heavy head from +the side of the horse where he had rested it. His eyes narrowed into +mere slits. From the hillside came the sound of slipping gravel.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be——"</p> + +<p>"It's Ranlett! He's creeping up!" the girl whispered tensely. "You must +mount. He may have found a gun." Then as he shook his head weakly, "If +you don't I shall stay with you and you may never get a chance to tell +me what I am to do."</p> + +<p>"Help me up!" The white beneath Beechy's skin had changed to crimson. +His teeth clenched as he pulled himself into the saddle. He held tight +to the horn with his two hands.</p> + +<p>"Mount! Quick!" he panted. "Now ride close beside me while I tell +you——" for an instant his eyes lost their purpose. He slipped over to +one side. Jerry caught him and steadied him.</p> + +<p>"'Tention company!" he drawled foolishly as he tried to straighten in +the saddle.</p> + +<p>"You must keep on, Beechy! Grip your mind tight till we reach the +Lieutenant," pleaded the girl, always with one ear turned to the +sinister, slipping sound that drew nearer and nearer up the hillside. It +seemed as though the reference to Courtlandt had power to conjure +strength. With a stifled groan the man eased himself in the saddle.</p> + +<p>"I can ride this way. Don't lose your sand, Mrs. Lieut. I've pulled +through worse scrapes than this. We'll beat 'em yet."</p> + +<p>They left the pines and began the descent of the hill. The innocent +cloud bank in the southwest had spread in great jagged peaks until it +darkened the heavens and the fields beneath them. The stream looked like +a drab ribbon splashed with white. They rode silently. Beechy conserved +his strength. "When we get to the level I'll talk," he vouchsafed once +through blue lips. Jerry kept close beside him. Across the valley lights +were beginning to appear in the X Y Z. She felt as though she were in a +horrid nightmare from which she must waken to find herself safe in her +own charming rooms at the Double O. Beechy's voice dispelled her +illusion. In obedience to a gesture of his she pulled up her horse as +they reached the level.</p> + +<p>"We've got to work quick, Mrs. Lieut. This rustling dope of Ranlett's is +a bluff. When he cut the fences in Lower Field he figured that the +Double O outfit to a man would hunt for the cattle in that +direction—away from the railroad."</p> + +<p>"The railroad!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Listen. No,—I'm not going to fall.—Not till I've put you wise." +The knuckles of his hand showed white as he gripped the saddle-horn. +"To-night a car, carrying silver bricks from the mint in Philadelphia +goes through on its way to the coast. It's attached to the regular +evening train—it's under armed guard—but—Ranlett——" It was +characteristic of the girl that instead of demanding how he knew she +announced breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"We must reach that train before Ranlett's gang——"</p> + +<p>"You've said it! Ranlett's staged the party at Devil's Hold-up. It's +only fifteen miles from the X Y Z but ten of that fifteen is wilderness. +We've got to stop that train before it reaches Greyson's crossing."</p> + +<p>"I'll ride for the X Y Z and get Bruce Greyson. I don't know where Steve +is," interrupted the girl breathlessly. "You go on to the Double O. The +Piker will know his way there in the dark. About ten o'clock, did you +say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Beechy's voice was weaker. "Don't let <i>anyone</i> know but Greyson. +Ranlett has the place honeycombed with spies. I'll stay here for a +while. If he comes—moseying over—the hill——" He slipped suddenly +from the saddle to the ground. He stretched flat on his back. "A-ah! +That's better," he groaned. He tried to smile up into the concerned face +bent over him. "<i>C'est drôle, ça?</i> I bragged that I was through with the +good old U. S. A. and the minute I find that I'm caught in a plot +against her I throw up my hands. I knew that Ranlett would kill me if I +backed out but I'd—I'd rather—die."</p> + +<p>"But you're not going to die, Beechy, and we'll win out," the girl +comforted eagerly. "Oh, how can I leave you like this——"</p> + +<p>"Mount that pony again, quick!" He gathered his strength by a superhuman +effort. "Don't think of me. I'll rest here and then I'll move on, I +promise. I want to—get out—of—this scrape as much as—you want me to. +That's right—up you—go." The last word was a whisper. He struggled to +one elbow. "Tell Greyson if he gets a chance—to put a bullet through +the man—Ranlett took on in—my place—that range-rider at Bear-Creek +ranch."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + + +<p>Benson regarded Ming Soy in stunned amazement. Her words, "She never +come back—not all this time," revolved stupidly round and round in his +brain. They had been catapulted into the midst of his passionate +declaration to Peggy; what she would have answered he never would know, +now. The color which the touch of his lips had brought to the girl's +face had faded; she was regarding the Chinese woman with terrified eyes. +She laid a trembling hand on Benson's arm. "Thank God, I haven't made +you hate me," he thought fervently as he gripped her cold fingers in a +comforting clasp. His faith in the wisdom of a surprise attack had been +built upon a rock, after all.</p> + +<p>"Tell me again, Ming Soy, just when Mrs. Courtlandt started and what she +said to you."</p> + +<p>In her excitement Ming Soy's English kept tripping her up, but Benson +was able to get a fairly clear idea of what had happened.</p> + +<p>"I watched her rode—not to the flield she tole me—no—down the road. I +listened for shoots. No shoots. No noding. No noding in flield. When +Ming Soy see you way down road, Ming Soy bleat glong."</p> + +<p>Benson's mind had been working with machine-like speed while he +listened. The girl beside him drew a long, ragged breath. He laid his +lips upon her hand for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry! I'll find her, Peg-o'-my-heart. She has probably dropped +in at Bear Creek ranch to see that new arrival and has forgotten the +time. Women are like that when there's a baby." He advanced the theory +with a light-hearted laugh which he flattered himself was a marvel of +its kind, but it merely drew a long, quivering sob from the girl. "Just +for company, I'll ride down to meet her."</p> + +<p>"I'll go with you," announced Peggy eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing doing! You'll go back to the house with Ming Soy. Don't let +Hopi Soy work off any of his thrift ideas on the dinner. If Jerry has +been riding all afternoon she'll be famished, and I—I feel as if I +could eat a raw mountain lion this minute. I'll take the horses back to +the corral and get a fresh mount."</p> + +<p>"Please—Tommy—take me?"</p> + +<p>Benson closed his ears heroically against the wiles of his own +particular Circe. He shook his head; his grave eyes met the girl's +squarely.</p> + +<p>"Be a good little sport, Peg. I can go faster without you. Besides, +Jerry may be back before me and she would be anxious if you were not +here."</p> + +<p>"All right, Tommy. Come, Ming Soy."</p> + +<p>Benson could get no satisfaction from the man in charge of the corral. +He questioned him as he watched him shift the saddle from Soapy to a +powerful black. Slowman only knew that Mrs. Courtlandt came for Patches +at about two o'clock. She was humming and laughing softly to herself as +she led him off, quite as though she had heard some good news—or—or +was up to some mischief; women were like that, when they had something +up their sleeves, he'd noticed. None of the boys who had gone after the +Shorthorns had returned. Mr. Courtlandt had 'phoned the corral from +Slippy Bend that he should not be back to the ranch until morning, and +to keep a sharp watch over the horses.</p> + +<p>"By cripes, when he said that," Slowman added as he looked at Benson +with eyes so curiously crossed that they appeared to regard an object +from the north and south extremes of the pole of vision, "it sent the +creeps all over me. It was almost as good as though I'd gone back to the +days of honest-to-God hold-ups an' rustlin's. I'm sorry about Mrs. +Courtlandt, Mr. Tommy, but don't you worry. You'll like as not find her +over takin' care of Jim Carey's baby. I hear the kid's a boy," with a +sheepish grin.</p> + +<p>As Benson rode out from the corral he looked at the bank of clouds in +the southwest and put spurs to his horse. Ming Soy, under +cross-examination, had held stoutly to her statement that Jerry had not +gone to the field back of the ranch-house. He would ride to the B C +first. On the rustic bridge that spanned the stream he stopped to +reconnoiter then went on and rounded the clump of cottonwoods that +screened the Bear Creek buildings from his view. They were beginning to +lose their outline in the deepening gloom. The fast spreading clouds +were letting down a curtain of darkness.</p> + +<p>Benson had ridden but a few hundred yards when he pulled the black up +short. What was that! He listened. The air was still with that curious +sinister calm which precedes a storm. The sound came again. It was the +whinny of a horse but—but—it was not from the direction of the B C +ranch; it came from the level at the foot of the hills beyond.</p> + +<p>Tommy's imaginings as he raced across the field would have provided +material for a five-reel thriller of the most lurid variety. They blew +up like a balloon which has been pricked when he was near enough to the +whinnying horse to discover that it not Patches but Ranlett's favorite +mount, The Piker. He gave voice to a mild but expressive swear-word.</p> + +<p>"Now what's to pay?" he muttered as he flung himself from the saddle and +bent over the outstretched figure half buried in the long grass. He +knelt. "Beechy!" he exclaimed incredulously. "How the dickens did +you——" The recumbent man lifted heavy lids.</p> + +<p>"<i>Comment ça</i>——" Returning consciousness cleared the haze from the +blue eyes. "Mr. Benson—you—did she find you—instead of——" his eyes +closed.</p> + +<p>"Beechy! Beechy! Rouse yourself. You must help me," Tommy pleaded. "Have +you seen Mrs. Courtlandt? She's—she's lost! Your Lieutenant can't find +his wife, Beechy!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Lieutenant</i>," the blue eyes looked up at Benson dazedly. "What's +that you said, Mr. Benson? Lost his wife? You're wrong, you've got +another guess coming." With cautious effort he raised himself on his +elbow. "Prop me up, that's better. Don't worry about Mrs. Lieut. She's a +good little—sport. She must be getting near the X Y Z by now." His +voice was clearer, the color was coming back to his lips.</p> + +<p>"She's safe—unhurt?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, man—nothin' could happen to a woman like her—don't you know +that? She's ridin' like the devil to cut off——" in his excitement he +jerked himself erect; in the next moment he was a crumpled heap on the +ground.</p> + +<p>Tommy emptied the canteen he had tied to his saddle-horn, for the Lord +only knew what emergency, over the white face. His tense nerves relaxed. +Jerry had been all right when Beechy saw her last and that couldn't have +been so long ago. If she was at Greyson's she was safe—but—what the +dickens had she been doing all the afternoon, he wondered. Now that he +had her accounted for he must get Beechy under cover. With an anxious +glance at the threatening sky overhead he spoke to the man on the +ground. He was quite conscious again. He listened intelligently as Tommy +outlined his plan for getting him to Bear Creek ranch. He wasted no +strength on words but with Benson's help finally mounted The Piker. He +put his arms around the horse's neck and fell forward on his mane. +Benson steadied him with one hand. Side by side the two horses made +their way to the buildings now nothing but a blotch of darkness.</p> + +<p>Jim Carey dashed out of the corral as the two rode up. He was a tall, +good-looking man with black eyes which twitched nervously as he talked.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Small? Where the devil——" he broke off in astonishment +as he saw the figure flung forward on The Piker's neck.</p> + +<p>"It's not Small, Carey. I'm Benson from the Double O," Tommy called from +out the gloom. "I picked up a man at the foot of the hill who was about +all in. He was Courtlandt's sergeant overseas. Help me get him down, +will you?"</p> + +<p>"We'll take him into Small's cabin. This way."</p> + +<p>The two men carried Beechy into the shack and laid him on a bed. Carey +lighted a lamp. He came back and looked down at the unconscious man as +he lay with his red hair roughly tousled and the bruise under his eye a +purplish red.</p> + +<p>"I'll get Mother Eagan. I—I suppose you know what's come?" Carey asked +with awkward pride.</p> + +<p>"I heard that the stork was playing a one-night stand in this county. Is +Mrs. Carey getting on all right?" Tommy asked as he busied himself +unfastening Beechy's clothes. "What is it, Carl?" he soothed as the +injured man struggled to one elbow, his eyes blazing with excitement.</p> + +<p>"Grab his horse—Mrs. Lieut., I'll get the range better next +time—Ranlett——" he dropped back on the pillow; the fever died down in +his eyes. He looked up into Benson's anxious face. "Don't mind what I +said," he pleaded weakly. "I was dreamin' but—but—I guess you'd better +ride after Mrs. Lieut., and be sure she's all right. Ranlett's +gang——"</p> + +<p>"Ranlett's gang!" both men bent over him. "What do you mean, Beechy?" +Benson asked tensely.</p> + +<p>"Bolster me up! That's right. That infernal pounding inside me's +quieting down." He drew a cautious breath and smiled wanly into the face +above him. "Did you see that? It came as easy as spendin' money. Who's +that? Where am I?" he demanded as he caught sight of Jim Carey and +looked around the room.</p> + +<p>"You are at Bear Creek ranch and this is Carey the owner."</p> + +<p>"Send him out, Mr. Benson. I've got something to say to you."</p> + +<p>"But Carey is——"</p> + +<p>"Send him out," Beechy reiterated weakly and closed his eyes as though +he were again slipping into a coma.</p> + +<p>"You'd better go, Jim. There's some deviltry afoot and Beechy knows what +it is. Send Mother Eagan down in ten minutes if she can be spared."</p> + +<p>Carey looked down at the motionless figure on the bed.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if he knows anything about Small," he whispered. "He left +early this morning and——"</p> + +<p>"You mean?"</p> + +<p>"The same," answered Carey enigmatically and left the cabin. The wind +banged the door after him. Benson could see Beechy wince. Then he was +conscious of what was going on about him.</p> + +<p>"He's gone, Carl," he whispered.</p> + +<p>Beechy's lips twisted in a smile as he opened his eyes, and eased +himself on his elbow.</p> + +<p>"I reckoned we'd shake him if I played 'possum. I'm feelin' better every +minute. Get a paper and pencil, Mr. Benson. I want you to take something +down for me. This bogus heart of mine is likely to pound on for years, +then again it may shut up shop any minute."</p> + +<p>"I'll do it, Beechy, but first, tell me about Mrs. Courtlandt. I must +know that she is safe."</p> + +<p>"She's safe, all right. She started for the X Y Z and Greyson. I kept my +brain steady till she got out of sight. She was ridin' her own horse. +I'm not deceiving you. I wouldn't have any harm come to her for her own +sake, let alone the Lieutenant's. Now you listen and put down what I +tell you, <i>sabe</i>?"</p> + +<p>Beechy told the story of his acquaintance with Ranlett, with frequent +pauses for rest and to get his breath. Someone on the border, he +wouldn't tell who, had sent him to the manager of the Double O. Outside +the wind rose steadily. It flung itself against the corners of the small +building, it shook the window frames as a terrier does a rat; the flame +in the lamp flickered and steadied.</p> + +<p>"Get me straight, Mr. Benson," Beechy concluded. "I ain't excusing +myself. I was dead wrong—but Ranlett caught me when I was bitter and +discouraged. He set out as how we were to pull off this hold-up on a +carful of gold belonging to some 1917-18 millionaires that had made +their money in munitions. Then this morning I got a hint 'twas +government money. I up an' had it out with Ranlett. I allowed I'd touch +nothin' belonging to the government. His eyes got like red-hot coals. +'You don't think for a minute you'll get away with turning goody-goody +after hearin' my plans, do you?' says he, his hand twitching. 'No, I +don't, Ranlett,' says I, 'but you want to remember that thievin's one +thing an' murder's another.' Then crack! It was like a shell burstin' +and I didn't know anythin' more till I looked up into what seemed two +shimmery gold stars—the Lieutenant's wife was holdin' me."</p> + +<p>"Who hit you? Ranlett?"</p> + +<p>"Not on your life! He ain't takin' no chances. He wasn't even figurin' +in the hold-up to-night; he is to direct operations from a dugout in the +rear. It was Carey's range-rider."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"Somewhere he'd found out I was linked up with the Lieutenant. Now you +know why I wouldn't tell before——Who's coming?"</p> + +<p>The knock preceded the entrance of Mother Eagan. She fairly blew into +the room. Her round, shining face was red; she was panting from +exertion. The man on the bed straightened up, smoothed his hair, +adjusted the collar of his shirt and turned reckless, smiling blue eyes +upon his visitor. She was a woman, therefore to be impressed, +irrespective of age or size or charm. That was Beechy, Benson thought as +he watched him. He was a curious combination of characteristics. The +woman looked from one to the other.</p> + +<p>"Where's the man I was sent down to drag back to life?" she asked with a +good-natured chuckle. Her eyes lingered on Beechy. "Sure you don't look +sick to me."</p> + +<p>Benson slipped the paper he held into his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Make him lie down and keep quiet, Mother Eagan, and put something on +that bruise. I'll go on to the X Y Z now that you're being taken care +of, Beechy."</p> + +<p>"Righto. Mr. Greyson may need help in that little matter I was tellin' +you about. Mother Eagan, it sure is good to see you. You're the +handsomest white woman I've seen since I left the border—you——"</p> + +<p>Benson closed the cabin door behind him. Beechy was incorrigible, but +Mother Eagan was fool-proof. She'd laugh and volley back at him while +she made his poor, racked body comfortable.</p> + +<p>When Tommy reached the pack-trail which led toward the X Y Z he pulled +up his horse. He looked back at the buildings of the B C ranch, then +speculatively at the hill behind them. On the other side of that Beechy +had left Ranlett. Suppose, just suppose, that the late manager of the +Double O was not incapacitated to the extent his assailant thought? +Suppose that he should be able to make his getaway? To put the bandits +on their guard? Mrs. Steve was doubtless with Greyson by this time +planning to checkmate the bad men. Wasn't it up to him to make sure of +The Skunk?</p> + +<p>Without giving his bump of caution time to rouse from its habitual state +of coma, Tommy made for the hill. Lightning crackled the sky, the rain +came.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'It ain't no use to grumble and complain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's every bit as easy to rejoice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the Lord sorts out the weather and sends rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rain's my choice,'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>he quoted with cheery philosophy as he pulled the broad brim of his hat +down and the collar of his shirt up.</p> + +<p>The spectral grove was a protection from wind and rain when he entered +it. He dismounted when he reached the pines on the crest of the hill +from which he could look down into Buzzard's Hollow. Fortunately he knew +every foot of the surrounding country. In the years he had been at the +Double O he had explored foot-hills and valleys, had fished in the +streams that crossed them.</p> + +<p>With flash-light in one hand and his forty-five in the other Benson +waited for the lightning. He must get his bearings. The storm rattled +and crashed among the mountains. It was deafening—but—what was that? +In the interval between crashes he had caught another sound. It was the +spasmodic roar and hum of a plane. It was a sinister sound in that place +at that hour. In a flash Tommy's mind reverted to the plane which had +passed over the stream on Sunday. Again he heard Courtlandt's curt +answer to his question, "Nothing, except that your information confirms +me in my suspicion that Marks and Schoeffleur signaled that pilot when +he went over." Was that the reason the two men had been missing this +morning when Gerrish rounded up the outfit to send them in search of the +runaway Shorthorns?</p> + +<p>Benson's hands were like ice as standing behind the bole of a giant +spruce he watched the progress of the aeroplane. The lightning flashed +steadily. Against the glare of the sky the great shape was silhouetted. +Almost instantly as though assured of his bearings, the pilot shut off +his motor and spiraled down toward the hollow. The machine lighted as +softly on the carpet of tumbleweed as might a fluff of thistle-down. It +made a smooth three-point landing.</p> + +<p>"That pilot's a veteran, none of the amateur's bump in his," Benson +muttered, at the same time subconsciously thanking the great god Thor +for his coöperation as he took advantage of a reverberating roll of +thunder to slide down the hillside. He went so amazingly fast that he +would have come up against the wall of the shack with a crash had he not +seized a shrub and stopped himself in time. Through the cracks between +the imperfectly matched boards that made the wall he could see light. On +hands and knees, his heart thumping as only that well-regulated organ +can thump in the breast of a brave man who realizes the risk he is +running, Tommy put his ear to a crack. He heard the sound of voices, his +nostrils were filled with the odor of cigarette smoke. He recognized +Ranlett's high pitched nasal tones. Evidently the pilot had brought a +passenger, for Benson could distinguish two other voices. The late +manager's was weak, as though with pain, but it held an ugly note.</p> + +<p>"That's better, Marks. That'll stop the bleeding. I was a fool to try to +follow that fellow Beechy. But—but I was mad to get at him. Bill Small +swore that he'd fixed him so that he wouldn't move again—I don't know +now whether he believed it or whether he was trying to double-cross me."</p> + +<p>"Nice fella, Beechy. We'd better be getting out of this; he may give the +alarm." Benson had never heard the voice before. It was thick and +guttural and evidently belonged to the pilot. Marks must have been the +passenger.</p> + +<p>"He can't. He's all in. He could hardly get up that hill. Bad heart. +Even if he told the girl——"</p> + +<p>"A girl in it! Good day! I'm through!"</p> + +<p>"Hold on, young feller! Don't get cold feet so easily. I—I don't know +where he met up with her—but—she can't get far. There is no telephone +at the B C and the lines connecting the X Y Z and the Double O with each +other and Slippy Bend are 'Out of order.'" There was a sardonic note in +his voice as he mimicked the stereotyped words. "We're safe, I tell you. +The boys will pull off that stunt and come winging back here laden with +silver bricks before any of that bunch can get anywhere. No one will +think of looking here for the loot; it's too near the centre of +sheriffville. We'll take what silver we can in the plane and the boys +can cache the rest till the excitement has died down. Simms will be +sound asleep in his bed at Upper Farm by the time the authorities get +round to him. He can ship us a silver brick in a tub of butter at his +discretion. I tell you, it's a cinch," he exulted a sound midway between +a chuckle and a groan.</p> + +<p>With a crash, as though the resident giant in a passion of rage had +knocked the rocky crowns of the mountains together, the storm spent +itself. In an incredibly short time the moon began to peer from between +scudding clouds. Benson crept slowly round the shack, his mind seething +with anger and resentment. Both ranches cut off! Where was Mrs. Steve?</p> + +<p>Moving when the moon was obscured, burrowing in the soaked tumbleweed +when it emerged from hiding, Benson made his way slowly and with +infinite caution to the aircraft. He crept round it till the plane, +which looked like nothing so much as a Brobdingnagian bird of prey, was +between him and the shack. He looked up at it. Suppose there were +someone in it! For an instant his heart obstructed his breathing. He +must know. He scratched one wing with his flash-light. To his taut +nerves it seemed as though the sound reverberated among the foot-hills. +Surely a person on guard would respond to that.</p> + +<p>Reassured by the silence within the machine, Benson groped along the +side of the plane until he located the pilot's seat. He climbed in. +Silently expeditiously, he did a few things to the steering gear and +wrecked the throttle. "You won't transport many silver bricks in this, +young feller," he muttered grimly. Knowledge of any kind was a valuable +commodity to have packed in one's kit-bag, he thought, as he cautiously +climbed down from the machine. Thanks to the few months spent in the +hangar of an aviation field in the spring of '17, he had known where and +how to administer body blows.</p> + +<p>By a circuitous route he reached the shack. With jaws set hard to keep +his lips from twitching with nervousness he peered through one of the +dirty windows. The light inside came from a candle stuck in a bottle +which stood on the range opposite the door. Its weird, wavering light +threw ghostly shadows on the walls. Someone was stretched out on the +bunk. A man with an aviator's helmet pushed back on his head sat on the +range, another sprawled on the floor. It was Ranlett on the bunk; Benson +recognized his voice as he replied to a question.</p> + +<p>"Ten o'clock. Better begin to watch out for the rockets soon. Remember, +two green lights if they have pulled it off and want us to wait; two red +lights if we are to beat it. Help me up. I'll get into the plane and +then we won't waste time making our getaway when they come."</p> + +<p>Benson stood rigid. Should he let them get out Of the shack or should he +cover them where they were? If they reached the aeroplane they would +immediately discover the damage and be on their guard. He must keep them +in the shack. Before the two airmen could help Ranlett to his feet he +fired a bullet through the window. It lodged in the wood over the bunk.</p> + +<p>"Stay where you are! Hands up!" he shouted in a gruff voice which +excitement hoarsened. "We have you covered from each window. The man who +moves gets his good and plenty. Gerrish, you cover the chap with the +helmet; O'Neil, make a target of Marks and I'll devote my entire +attention to the Skunk."</p> + +<p>Would his bluff work; would it? Tommy wondered frantically. It did. With +muttered imprecations the two men ranged themselves against the wall, +their hands above their heads. Ranlett sank back on the bunk. They +weren't taking chances. What should he do next, Benson wondered, with a +nervous desire to shout with laughter. He had placed himself so that +without moving he could see any signal which might come from the +direction of Devil's Hold-up. At imminent danger of becoming cross-eyed +for life, he kept one eye on the men and one on the sky above the +region where he knew the railroad to lie. At signs of restlessness in +his prisoners he stole to the other window. He fired a shot which had a +miraculous effect upon their sagging muscles. They stiffened. Benson +with difficulty repressed a chuckle. He had them dancing to the tune he +piped, all right. But what the dickens should he do if the bandits +successfully pulled off their raid on the treasure car? If he stayed +where he was he would be one against a dozen or more desperate men. If +he made a break for safety Ranlett and his choice aggregation of bad men +would escape with their plunder. If—what was that? A green light! Then +Mrs. Steve had not reached Greyson. Another emerald star shot into the +sky.</p> + +<p>"Two green lights if they have pulled it off and want us to wait!" That +was what Ranlett had said. Some fugitive lines flicked tantalizingly on +the screen of Tommy's memory, then steadied:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But to every man there openeth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A high way and a low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every man decideth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The way his soul shall go."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>That settled it. He'd hold his prisoners and take his chance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + + +<p>She had been right in her suspicions of the Man of Mystery, Jerry +thought, as she put spurs to her horse. The words Beechy had called +after her echoed in her mind. "Tell Greyson if he gets a chance—to put +a bullet through the man—Ranlett took on in—my place—that range-rider +at Bear-Creek ranch." It was growing dark. Heavy clouds had rolled up. +She had some difficulty in forcing Patches from the old pack-trail which +eventually led to home and supper. She cut across fields, splashed +through the stream, then headed for the X Y Z ranch-house whose lights +seemed like will-o'-the-wisps. The longer she rode the more they +receded.</p> + +<p>She determined not to worry about Beechy. He had promised that he would +try to get to the Double O and she knew that he would win out. The +unexpected would happen to help him, as nine out of ten times it did +when one was in dire straights. With the thought came a vision of her +father; she could see his massive head, his shrewd eyes, hear his deep +voice saying:</p> + +<p>"I have a firm conviction, that a person can through any worthy thing on +which he is determined; how else do you account for the seeming miracles +of heroism men got away with in the World War? The test is, how much do +you want it? I've gone on that principle all my life and it's worked, I +tell you, it's worked."</p> + +<p>It was curious how that memory of her father vitalized her. Jerry +straightened in the saddle. She felt as though she had been warmed, fed, +had had the elixir of courage poured through her veins. Beechy would +come through. All she need think of was her part.</p> + +<p>It was quite dark when she reached the X Y Z. The air stirred in hot +gusts; from far off came the rumble of thunder. Patches was matted with +sweat and dust. Ito, the Jap, opened the door in response to her knock. +From behind him came the sound of voices, the tinkle of silver, the +ripple of a woman's laugh. Felice Denbigh! Jerry had forgotten her. For +an instant she visualized the gold hair, the gold eyes with their +tigerish spots, the alluring chiffoned daintiness of the woman. With a +shrug she looked down at her own torn, dusty riding clothes. She would +hate to meet the ultra fashionable Mrs. Denbigh now. Felice must not +know that she had come; she might ruin everything. Jerry had an +intuition that she would stop at nothing to humiliate the girl Steve had +married. She caught the astonished Ito by the lapels of his coat and +drew him into the shadow.</p> + +<p>"It is Mrs. Courtlandt, Ito. I must see Mr. Greyson. Don't tell him who +it is, though. Say—say that—that the ranch boss wants to see him."</p> + +<p>The Jap's yellow mask of a face did not for a moment lose its +imperturbability.</p> + +<p>"All lie will I tell him, honorable lady. Keep in dark when I door make +open."</p> + +<p>Jerry sank to a bench among the vines; weary Patches sagged in the +shadows. For an instant it seemed as though life drained out of her, as +though she were being swept along the tide of indifference to +unconsciousness. For the first time she realized that she had had but +two hours' sleep in almost forty-eight hours. She forced herself erect. +She pulled off her hat which she had crushed down over her forehead when +she started on her wild ride to the X Y Z. It was a relief to get it +off. She could think better. She dropped it to the bench beside her. A +ray of light from somewhere set the gold in the cord glinting. Where was +the owner of that hat, she wondered. Had Steve gone into the mountains? +Would Tommy and Peg be anxious when she did not appear for dinner? She +did not dare 'phone them for fear that in some way Ranlett might get a +clue to her errand. She started forward as the door opened and closed +and Greyson's voice demanded sharply:</p> + +<p>"What's to pay, McGregor?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't McGregor, it's Jerry Courtlandt," the girl whispered. "Shs-s! +Take me somewhere we can talk and not be overheard."</p> + +<p>He led her to a clump of trees near the entrance to the drive; her horse +followed with his head close to the girl's shoulder. The branches swayed +in the wind. Even in the dusk she could see the eddies of dust in the +road. The atmosphere seemed electrically alive. Jerry shivered and +seized a fold of Greyson's sleeve.</p> + +<p>"I—I just want to make sure you're really here—it's so—so dark I can +hardly see you," she apologized shakily. His hand closed over hers. His +voice was tense as he demanded:</p> + +<p>"What has happened, Jerry? What has brought you to me like this?" For +the first time she was conscious of the absurdity of her costume, of her +delicate, torn blouse with its bandana addition, her linen breeches and +riding boots. She flung the thought of her appearance from her mind and +plunged into explanation. Greyson questioned when she had finished:</p> + +<p>"Are you sure? How did Beechy know?"</p> + +<p>Jerry's eyes widened.</p> + +<p>"I never thought to ask," she confessed. "I just believed what he told +me and I know, I know that he was telling the truth. What shall we do? +We must hurry—hurry——" For what seemed an eternity of time to her +Bruce Greyson was silent. The wind rose and whistled and whined. Jerry +was quivering with impatience when he spoke.</p> + +<p>"The train must be flagged before it reaches the X Y Z. I'll run the +flivver to the crossing and try to get down the track. It's a mad scheme +but it's the only chance. We couldn't get to the station at Slippy Bend +in time if we tried. I'll take one of the men to wave a lantern——"</p> + +<p>"You'll take me," interrupted Jerry breathlessly. The amazing audacity +of the plan thrilled her with its possibilities. "We mustn't take a +chance with a third party. Beechy warned me that Ranlett had +sympathizers everywhere. We can't trust one of the men."</p> + +<p>"But there is a tremendous storm rising. What if Steve——"</p> + +<p>"Steve may not be at home to-night; what he doesn't know won't trouble +him. Tommy and Peg will have to worry. Individuals must be sacrificed to +the good of the government, or words to that effect." Her spirits were +mounting now that she had secured an ally. "Felice must not know that I +am here."</p> + +<p>"I'll have Ito make my apologies to Mrs. Denbigh. He can tell her that I +have been called away suddenly. He can also tel—slip down to the front +gate and wait for me. I'll take your horse to the corral. If the men +notice him at all, they win think merely that you have taken refuge from +the storm."</p> + +<p>Crouched against the shrubs near the gate the girl waited. A lurid flash +in the heavens gave an instant's glimpse of the ranch-house, the white +fences of the corral. Then came the crash of thunder and utter darkness. +There was a sound as of a fusillade of bullets on the hard road. "Here +comes the rain!" Jerry murmured. The words were drowned in a sudden +hissing downpour. She peered at the illuminated dial of her watch. Nine +o'clock! In just one hour the train was due at Devil's Hold-up. Could +they stop it? She listened. Was that the sound of wheels? Yes. Greyson +was coasting the machine down the slight incline toward her; there was +no sound of the engine. While it was still in motion she sprang to the +running-board, took her seat and closed the door softly. Not a moment +had been lost. For the first time she felt the rain beating on her bare +head; it stung her shoulders through her thin blouse. The top of the car +had been thrown back. She put her hand up. Her hat! Where was it? Then +she remembered that she had flung it on the bench beside Greyson's +front door. "Being hatless is the least of my troubles," she thought +buoyantly as she peered forward into the darkness. At the foot of the +incline Greyson bent to the lever.</p> + +<p>"Now we're off," he whispered. "There is a lantern at your feet. Light +that."</p> + +<p>On her knees in the bottom of the car Jerry struggled with the lantern. +The flivver bounced and swerved as the driver tried to force the engine +belonging to the hundreds class to speed achieved only by the thousands. +After using a profusion of matches, and—anathemas when she burned her +fingers, Jerry lighted the lantern. She gave a long sigh of relief as +she slipped back into her seat.</p> + +<p>"It's done! The bottom of the car looks as though there had been a +massacre of matches, just as the floor round Steve's chair looks when he +is smoking his pipe, but what are a few matches at a time like this? +What can I do next?"</p> + +<p>"Jerry, you amazing girl! Nothing—nothing seems hard or impossible when +you have a share in it," Greyson burst out impetuously. He steadied his +voice and directed, "When we come to the gate get out and open it. I'll +run through to the crossing. Be sure that you fasten the gate securely +behind you. No sane person will think of our getting down the track this +way. No sane person would think of attempting it," he added under his +breath.</p> + +<p>Once through the gate Greyson cautiously steered the car off the +crossing on to the track which paralleled that on which the west-bound +train would come. He manipulated the motor until the left-hand wheels of +the car hugged the inside of one rail and the right-hand wheels were in +the road-bed. He waited for flashes of lightning to show him the way. +They came almost incessantly. The thunder crashed and rumbled as though +the gods of the mountains were playfully pitching TNT shells for +exercise.</p> + +<p>"This is going to be one little stunt," the man confided to the girl as +she took her seat beside him. "Keep the lantern in your hand. When I say +'Ready' stand up on the seat and wave like mad. Now we're off, and may +the gods be good to us!"</p> + +<p>It wasn't a heathen god whom Jerry Courtlandt importuned. She never +looked back upon that wild ride without a renewed thanksgiving that the +prayer in her heart had been answered, without a reminiscent ache in +every bone of her body, without seeing a close-up of Greyson, +tense-jawed and wrinkle-browed bent over the wheel. He drove with his +eyes intent on the tracks which seemed glistening streaks of fire when +the lightning flashed. The swift transitions from dazzling light to inky +darkness blinded her. It would always remain one of the inexplicable +miracles to the girl that the flivver did not capsize. She felt no fear +at the time. Only when from behind them came the sound as of a hundred +furies let loose did she shudder.</p> + +<p>"Is—is that a pack of wolves?" she whispered hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"Coyotes. Two can make as much noise as a dozen of anything else. Hear +that? Begin to wave! Ready!"</p> + +<p>Jerry scrambled to the seat. She lost her balance as the car careened +tipsily. She clutched Greyson's hair with a violence which wrung a +stifled "Ouch!" from the victim.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry. My mistake! I wasn't trained as a bareback rider," the girl +apologized with an hysterical ripple of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Wave! Wave!" Greyson shouted above the din of the storm.</p> + +<p>The girl waved her lantern in curving sweeps. At first she could hear +nothing, see nothing, then above the noise of their own wheels she heard +a rumble which quickly increased to a roar. Then came a light and behind +it a creature which might have belonged to the ancient order of +Compsognatha, so long was it, so sinuous, so sinister. It was the train. +Jerry waved frantically. Surely, surely the engineer must see her light. +She caught her breath and held it as the roar grew deafening and the +monster came leaping, writhing, pounding on.</p> + +<p>"They see us! They see us!" she shouted, and laughed exultantly all the +while waving the lantern madly. The whistle of the oncoming engine blew +a frenzied warning. Greyson turned his wheel way over. The flivver +literally jumped the rails and ran along a siding which joined the main +track. The girl slid into her seat limp with exhaustion. With groaning +and grinding of brakes and clanking of wheels the long train trembled to +a stop. Which one of the cars carried the treasure, Jerry wondered, just +as a rough Irish voice thundered in her ear:</p> + +<p>"For the love of Mike! What we got here? Escaped lunatics, or I miss my +guess." The light of a lantern was flashed in the faces of the occupants +of the car. The man who held it swore with an ease and facility which +took Jerry's breath. "It's a man and a woman, crazy as coots," he called +to someone behind him. Then in a magisterial tone, "It's a hunch we got +the new division superintendent aboard this trip. He can see for himself +what held us up; he'd never believe it if I told him. Now what'd you +flag this train for?" demanded the violator of the second Commandment, +truculently. A group of men had gathered round him.</p> + +<p>Greyson stepped from the flivver and drew Jerry after him. What would +he say, she wondered anxiously. Their errand must not be suspected. They +must get aboard the train and interview the division superintendent. A +sudden mad thought suggested itself. Without an instant's hesitation +Jerry slipped her arm under Greyson's, rested her head against his +sleeve and smiled audaciously into the broad, weather-beaten face +glowering at her.</p> + +<p>"Don't scold, Mr. Brakeman. It was reckless, but—but—you see, we just +had to flag this train. We—we want to get to the coast. +We're—we're—eloping."</p> + +<p>"Good God!"</p> + +<p>Greyson's inarticulate protest was submerged in the hoarse ejaculation. +Jerry wheeled. Behind her stood Stephen Courtlandt.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + + +<p>It seemed to Steve as he looked at the girl, with her hair, which wind +and rain had lashed into clinging tendrils of glinting bronze, pressed +close against Greyson's arm, that his universe tore itself from its +orbit and hurtled into fathomless space. For thirty throbbing seconds +the blue eyes challenged the brown, then he turned away.</p> + +<p>"Courtlandt!" called Greyson dominantly, but Steve was speaking to the +division superintendent who, white with anxiety, had hurried up.</p> + +<p>"Sure they'll have to go along with us, Steve," reassured the autocrat +of the train. He turned to Greyson. "We'll take you to the coast, all +right, but you won't get off the train till you've paid a good fat fine +for stopping it. You and the lady get aboard, pronto. Steve, lock her up +in one of the compartments. I'll look after the man. Mac, if anything +else tries to hold us up you shoot and shoot quick, no matter if there +are skirts mixed up in it." He rushed off in company with the burly +brakeman. Greyson caught Courtlandt's arm.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Steve, you must listen. Jerry——"</p> + +<p>"You needn't apologize for my—my wife, Greyson. She's coming with me." +He put his hands none too gently on the girl's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"But, Steve, you don't understand," Jerry protested. "I——"</p> + +<p>"All aboard there!" yelled the brakeman angrily. Steve fairly lifted the +girl to the platform of the Pullman. He hurried her along the corridor +to a compartment.</p> + +<p>"Come in here, Jerry, and no matter what you hear don't come out. I'll +send the maid to help you get your clothing dry." He turned to go, but +she laid her hand on his arm.</p> + +<p>"Steve, you must listen to me. I want to tell you——"</p> + +<p>"What can you tell me except that you love Greyson and ran away with +him? I can't hear that now—I won't. You're mine and I keep what is my +own. And remember this, if you try to communicate with him while you are +on this train—I'll shoot him." His eyes were black; there was a white +line about his nostrils.</p> + +<p>"Steve, you're all wrong,—but if you won't trust me——" she shrugged +the remainder of the sentence. Then her voice was pleading. "Did +Bruce—Mr. Greyson,—get a chance to speak to the division +superintendent?"</p> + +<p>"Did he? I'll say he did. What Nelson isn't saying to your—your gallant +friend at this minute, isn't worth saying." He looked at her +suspiciously as she laughed. He took a step nearer.</p> + +<p>"No, I shan't have hysterics, Stevie. Now that I know that my gallant +friend, as you call him, is explaining our late plan to the division +superintendent, I haven't a care in the world,—in fact," with a dainty, +politely repressed yawn, "if I could have this place and the maid to +myself, I might take a nap. I shall have plenty of time. It is a long +way to the coast," with another irrepressible ripple of laughter. Then +as he lingered, "You needn't stand guard. I shan't run away again. An +encore lacks the snap of a first performance," audaciously.</p> + +<p>Courtlandt opened his lips to reply, thought better of it, closed the +door smartly behind him and went in search of the maid. Back in the +compartment which the division superintendent used as an office he +lighted his pipe, and paced the floor back and forth, back and forth as +he tried to marshall order from the chaos of his thoughts. Why didn't +the fool train start, he wondered, as he listened to what seemed an +endless amount of backing and starting and grinding of brakes.</p> + +<p>His mind went back to the moment in Lower Field when Johnny Simms had +handed him a letter and bolted. He could see every word on the +tear-blotted page now:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Ranlett doesn't want the cattle. He cut the fences so that the +Double O outfit would follow the Shorthorns into the mountains. +He and his bunch are figurin' to rob the west-bound to-night at +Devil's Hold-up. Government silver. Watch out! Ranlett has +spies everywhere."</p></blockquote> + +<p>There had been no signature, no mention of Simms, but Courtlandt felt +sure that he was in on the deal and that the wife was trying to keep her +husband from being caught in what might easily prove to be more than +robbery. His first reaction from the message had been amused +incredulity. It was absurd to believe that in these enlightened days a +man of Ranlett's intelligence, and he was infernally intelligent, would +try to get away with such a mid-eighties stunt. The sense of amusement +was succeeded by startled conviction. The fact was that Ranlett did +think he could put it across and was to make the attempt that night. He +must hustle through his work and make Slippy Bend in time to board the +train. He could neither wire nor 'phone if it were true that Ranlett had +spies everywhere. He must keep his own counsel until he could talk with +the official in charge of the west-bound.</p> + +<p>After that he had followed trails and conferred with ranch section +heads. As clouds began to spread out from the southwest he galloped +into Slippy Bend. He had supper in a leisurely fashion at the one +hotel, dropped into the post-office for a chat with Sandy, who was +sorting his mail for the morrow's trip, and discussed crops and stock +and tractors with the group of men gathered there. He had reached the +railroad station about ten minutes before the treasure train was due. He +hailed the railroad man-of-all-work whose slouch relegated him +unquestionably to the preëfficiency era.</p> + +<p>"West-bound on time? I'm going up the line to follow some steers that +have mysteriously wandered off. I'm not looking for trouble, but——" He +tapped the holster which hung from his belt. Baldy Jennings, whose head +resembled a shiny white island entirely surrounded by a fringe of red +hair, chewed and spat with intriguing accuracy as he listened. Steve's +explanation had precipitated a flow of observation.</p> + +<p>"Shucks! The world's sick. Most of it don't want to work and them that +does won't be let by them that don't. The majority seem to figur' that +it's a darned sight easier to pick the other man's pocket than to fill +their own by honest sweatin' labor. Sure, it never wa'n't none of my +butt-in, but I used to tell old man Fairfax that Ranlett was narrer +between the horns. Oh, you don't hev to mention no names, I know who +took them steers,—but cripes, it didn't do no good, he wouldn't listen +to Baldy Jennings. And now the coyote's knifed you! An' your old man +givin' him every chanct. Human natur'! Human natur'! Well, I gotta get +busy. The railroad don't pay me sixty bucks per fer swappin' talk even +with the owner of the Double O. Here comes the west-bound." A shrill +whistle echoed back and forth among the hills like a shuttlecock. The +vibration of the rails announced the coming train.</p> + +<p>Courtlandt's pipe went out, he stopped his restless pacing of the narrow +compartment as he visualized the first person who had stepped from the +train. It had been Nelson who had been a captain in the battalion in +which Steve had served overseas. His face, which had been white and +tense when he reached the platform, had suffused with color as he +recognized Courtlandt.</p> + +<p>"Well, you can knock me for a gool, if it isn't the Whistling Lieut.!" +he cried eagerly. "What are you doing in this teeming mart of trade?" he +added, as he glanced at Baldy Jennings staring open-mouthed at the +meeting and beyond him to the few coatless, vested, bearded favorite +sons who leaned against the sagging building.</p> + +<p>Courtlandt had laughed. When the fog of surprise had lifted he had seen +that the years had not changed Nelson. His black eyes were as keen as +ever, his little mustache had the same moth-eaten effect, the network +of veins on his slightly bulbous nose were redder perhaps, and he was in +civilian clothes. That realization wrinkled Steve's brow in perplexity.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here? Last I heard you had joined the regular army +and were stationed somewhere around Phila——" Perception of the +situation came in a blinding flash. Nelson's eyes met his steadily.</p> + +<p>"There are some occasions when a soldier appears in mufti. Especially +when he is passing as the newly appointed division superintendent of a +railroad." Steve drew a breath. So that was it. His eyes traveled over +the train. Which was the treasure car? Obviously the one in the middle +which looked like an ordinary baggage-car. The rest were brilliantly +lighted coaches, from the windows of which eyes peered out curiously, +indifferently or interestedly as the temperaments and minds behind them +dictated. His glance came back to Nelson.</p> + +<p>"You're the man I'm looking for. I've lost some cattle, and I'm going up +the line a way to look for them. I must give you all particulars. I'm +counting on you to help me, if there should happen to be any rough stuff +pulled off, see?"</p> + +<p>The two men had stood apart from the confusion of the station. The rain +beat down. Over among the mountains thunder and lightning held high +carnival. Courtlandt drew Nelson into the lee of the building. He struck +a match and held it above his pipe till the wood burned down to his +fingers. In the flickering light he and the superintendent, pro tem., +had regarded one another steadily. Nelson moistened his lips:</p> + +<p>"Sure, I see, Steve. Glad to have you along." He raised his voice as one +of the train hands approached. "Make yourself comfortable in my +quarters. Perhaps I can find a couple to make up a little game."</p> + +<p>Courtlandt was quite unconscious of the rumble of the train as in +imagination he relived the time he had spent waiting for Nelson to join +him in the double compartment which had been fitted up as an office for +the superintendent. Minutes seemed hours. When he did come the smile had +left his lips. His eyes were stern. He closed the door with a bang.</p> + +<p>"Deal out what's coming, quick!" he had commanded and Steve had told him +almost word for word what Mrs. Simms had written. "You're sure of this?"</p> + +<p>"I've given the message as it came to me. The person who sent the +warning had every reason to keep mum."</p> + +<p>"I get you." Nelson pulled down a map which was rolled against the side +of the car. He studied the maze of lines and dots and dashes. "Going +along with us?" he had asked casually.</p> + +<p>"The surest thing you know." Steve remembered how absurdly light-hearted +he had felt. Nelson looked so thoroughly equal to his job.</p> + +<p>"Then you'd better—now what the devil is <i>that</i>?" he growled as the +engine blew a furious warning and the brakes ground on with a suddenness +which threw both men against the desk. "We can't have reached Devil's +Hold-up yet."</p> + +<p>And then—Courtlandt's crowding thoughts had reached the moment when he +had heard a girl's voice say:</p> + +<p>"Don't scold, Mr. Brakeman. It was reckless—but—but, you see, we had +to flag this train—we—we want to go to the coast. We're—we're +eloping!"</p> + +<p>Jerry and Greyson! And he would have staked his life that she was true +blue, that even if she felt that she could never love the man she had +married she would have trampled temptation. The intolerable ache in +Steve's heart maddened him. She should not carry out this mad plan. He +wouldn't let her go if she hated him eternally. He'd make her love him, +love him as he had loved her from the moment he had looked up to see her +enter the living-room of Glamorgan's apartment. He had been so +infernally proud that he had tortured himself by pretending indifference +and now he had been brutal. He should have let her explain—he'd go now +and listen to what she had to say. God help him to act the man no matter +what it was. He would be tender, he would be sympathetic—but—he'd +never give her up.</p> + +<p>Nelson entered and closed the door softly behind him. His face was +white, there were tiny flecks of foam on his lips, his eyes blazed.</p> + +<p>"In five minutes we'll slow down to a crawl before entering Devil's +Hold-up. The bandits counted on that. I'll go forward to the cab. Trail +along after me. Leave your holster here. The passengers mustn't get the +idea that we're packing guns; get me?"</p> + +<p>"I get you. Where is Gr—where is the man who flagged the train?"</p> + +<p>Nelson turned with his hand on the door-knob.</p> + +<p>"In the car back locked into a compartment with an armed guard before +it. He wanted to talk but I wasn't taking chances with any middle-aged +Lochinvar until after we'd passed the Hold-up. Got the woman in the case +locked up, haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she——" Courtlandt cut off the explanation he was about to offer. +Why enlighten Nelson? If he could keep Jerry's name out of the mix-up, +so much the better. Greyson wouldn't be likely to talk.</p> + +<p>"All right, see that she doesn't break loose. A girl who would flivver +along a railroad track would have to be roped and tied to keep her out +of a wild party like this or I miss my guess."</p> + +<p>Steve looked unseeingly at the door as it closed behind Nelson. He was +right; it would be like Jerry to get into the mix-up. He would stop at +her compartment as he went forward and make sure that she was there. He +unfastened the holster from his belt and flung it to the desk. With a +slight bulge in the region of the hip pocket of his riding breeches he +left the office. At the door of the compartment in which he had left +Jerry he knocked.</p> + +<p>There was no answer. He tapped again and listened. There was no sound +inside save the creaking of woodwork and springs as the car swayed with +the grinding of wheels. Courtlandt whitened. Could she have left her +room? With quick impatience he opened the door and stepped inside. In +his surprise he slammed it behind him. Jerry, rolled in a blanket, lay +in the bunk asleep.</p> + +<p>Even the noise he had made did not rouse her. Evidently the maid had +taken her clothing to dry it, for she was blanketed like a mummy from +her feet to her dimpled chin. Courtlandt crossed the narrow space +between them and looked down upon her. Her hair was spread over the +pillow to dry, her dark lashes lay like fringes, the one cheek visible +had a long red scratch, a bare foot hung over the edge of the bunk. Her +sleep was so profound that she barely breathed.</p> + +<p>Why was she so exhausted, Steve wondered anxiously. In a flash he +remembered. She had been up all the night before with Mrs. Carey. Was it +only last night that he had taken her to the B C ranch? It seemed weeks +ago. No wonder that she was tired; she couldn't have had much sleep in +the last forty-eight hours. What did the bruise mean? He leaned over her +and touched it lightly. It was not a recent scratch. Very gently he +raised the pink foot which swayed with every motion of the car and +covered it with the blanket. He looked down upon the girl for a moment. +With jaw set and the veins in his temples standing out like cords he +went out and closed the door behind him.</p> + +<p>The train barely crawled as Courtlandt swung from the step of the coach +to the ground. His eyes were strained; there was a white line about his +lips as he pulled himself up into the gangway between tender and engine. +The storm had rolled east-ward. Above the distant mountains a broad and +yellow moon played at hide-and-seek with fleecy remnants of cloud. Stars +appeared dimly, reconnoitered for a moment, then shone with steady +brilliancy. Nelson, seated on a tool-box in the cab, rolled a cigarette +with slightly unsteady fingers. The engineer had his head out of the +window; his assistant was tinkering a bit of balky machinery. Nelson +looked up as Courtlandt appeared.</p> + +<p>"Did you come out to see the wheels go round Steve? I'd rather ride here +than anywhere else myself. What the devil! What's to pay now, Hawks?" as +the engineer ground on the brakes.</p> + +<p>"Boulder on the track," rumbled the sooty man. He turned white under the +soot as his eyes crossed in a futile endeavor to look along the shiny +blue nose of an automatic in the hand of his grimy assistant.</p> + +<p>"Hands up, all of you! Come over here, Hawks. You gentlemen can talk to +me while my friends give the train the once-over."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be——"</p> + +<p>"You sure will if you talk," growled the grimy one, looking like a +popular conception of his satanic majesty sans horns. Courtlandt and +Nelson who had been caught completely off guard by this attack from +within, stood with upraised arms. "Now, what t'ell!" The gun swayed for +the fraction of a second as a figure slid down over the coal in the +tender and landed in a crumpled heap in the gangway. Courtlandt seized +the opportunity. By the aboriginal expedient of kicking his victim +smartly in the shin he surprised the grimy one into a howl of pain. +Instinctively one hand reached for the aching member. Steve seized the +revolver.</p> + +<p>"You're some gunman," he jeered. "Go back into that corner and sit +down!" And Satan's understudy, shorn of all of his gun and two-thirds of +his bravado—went. "Hawks, tie his feet and hands. Here's his gun. +Nelson, I can manage if you want to give orders elsewhere. What have we +here?"</p> + +<p>The man who had fallen from the tender had struggled to his feet. He +braced himself against the side of the cab. His hair was matted down +over his eyes, his khaki shirt was in strips, his breeches and riding +boots were caked with mud; evidently he had been a rider before he +turned bandit, Courtlandt thought as he covered him with his forty-five. +Hawks was standing guard with his prisoner's own automatic. Fate has a +keen sense of comedy.</p> + +<p>"What's your business?" Steve demanded. The man made an evident effort +to rally his senses. His voice was low and broken as he answered:</p> + +<p>"There are twenty men in the gap—waiting for this train—the +silver—bricks. Here—here are the names——" He fumbled in his shirt. +Steve watched him with wary eyes, his finger on the trigger of his gun. +The trussed man in the corner swore volubly. The engineer silenced him +with the toe of his boot. Courtlandt took a step nearer the gasping, +groping man. The light was dim, if he were tricking him—but he wasn't. +With painful effort he produced a paper. His right arm hung helpless. A +red spot the size of a nickel appeared on the breast of his shirt. "Here +it is. I—I played into Ranlett's hands with the steers—Steve." He +collapsed in a heap on the floor.</p> + +<p>"Steve!"</p> + +<p>Courtlandt was on his knees beside him echoing his name. He slipped his +arm under the bent head. The man looked up with a laugh that died in a +painful rattle in his throat.</p> + +<p>"You didn't know me, Steve?"</p> + +<p>"Denbigh!"</p> + +<p>"Don't take it so hard, this—this scratch isn't anything. I—I swore +I'd square myself with the world and—and my conscience. I've been +playing my cards for this grand slam for weeks. Somehow Ranlett got wind +that the silver—was to—be shipped sometime this month. When I found +that Beechy was your man I dropped him a hint as to the ownership of the +treasure he was after—then—then—I took care of him for Ranlett—see? +You'll find him stunned but unhurt in the shack in Buzzard's Hollow. +No—don't interrupt—let me talk while I can—they'll be here in a +minute. To-night they must have been watching me. When I tried to slip +away Simms fired. I—I rolled over the cliff—they must have thought +that finished me—it did—almost—but I was determined to get here. Keep +those names—I—hope—I've saved the government's money."</p> + +<p>His head fell back on Courtlandt's shoulder, his eyes closed for a +moment. Then with, almost superhuman effort he rallied:</p> + +<p>"I can't drift off yet. Two green rockets—in my shirt. As—soon as +you've caught the gang—send those up. They'll keep Ranlett and—and the +others in the Hollow till—you get there. They mean that—that——" +Courtlandt had to put his ear close to Denbigh's lips to hear the last +words. He laid him down and reached into his shirt for the rockets. +Nelson appeared.</p> + +<p>"Leave him, Steve, I need you. I've sent a gang out to move the boulder. +We'll let the bad men think they've fooled us. Half the passengers on +this train are regulars in mufti. Little ol' Uncle Sam isn't taking +chances when he ships silver bricks to the coast. Here they come! Look!" +in a hoarse, excited whisper.</p> + +<p>Out from between crevices and behind cottonwoods stole sinister shadows. +The men trying to remove the boulder from the track worked steadily. +The night was so still after the storm that Steve could hear their hard +breathing, their gruff commands and the clink of metal against rock as +they attacked the granite. The man in the corner opened his lips to +shout a warning but Hawks stuffed his mouth full of oily waste before he +could utter a sound. Nelson oozed delighted anticipation.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, man!" Steve exploded, "you haven't crossed the bridge yet. +Those men are after the government's money and they're going to put up a +stiff fight for it."</p> + +<p>"So they are, so they are, little ol' Steve, but they won't get it. We +dropped the treasure car, the last lighted Pullman with the silver +bricks in it, off on the siding where those crazy elopers flagged us. +Your Uncle Dudley wasn't taking any chances."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + + +<p>"After all, it has been absurdly like the fake attack and repulse of +bandits in a musical comedy, except—except for Phil," Courtlandt +thought two hours later. "And here's where the female portion of the +audience would adjust hats and grope under the seats for missing +articles," he added, as from the platform of the train he watched a +splotch of darkness move slowly up the main street of Slippy Bend, en +route for the jail. The act had lacked none of the usual colorful stage +setting. There had been a starry heaven overhead, the dim outlines of +the rocky gap for a back-drop, clumps of cottonwoods and aspens for side +wings and for the crowning touch, two green rockets had sped skyward.</p> + +<p>The attacking party had boarded the train with just the right amount of +theatrical bravado, but something went wrong. Someone must have +hopelessly mixed the cues, for instead of towering over their shrinking +victims the bandits had found themselves staring dumbly along the +snub-noses of Colts in the trigger-quick hands of veterans. Denbigh's +list had been checked off and, save for Ranlett and Marks, every man +named on it was now being personally conducted up the silent street.</p> + +<p>Phil had made good, gloriously good, Courtlandt exulted as he made his +way to the baggage-car where Denbigh lay on the floor, his eyes closed, +his face flushed with fever. Steve knelt beside him, and laid a cool +hand on his forehead, but the wounded man did not move. Nelson climbed +into the car.</p> + +<p>"They've brought the stretcher, Steve. I'll attend to moving him while +you get the girl off the train. I've sent for a doctor."</p> + +<p>With his pulses hammering Courtlandt knocked at the door of the +compartment in which he had left Jerry asleep. There was no answer. Had +she gone? He knocked again, this time with a peremptoriness augmented by +the fear in his heart.</p> + +<p>"Come in!" a cool voice answered.</p> + +<p>Steve entered the compartment. From across the small room Jerry, dressed +as she had been when she flagged the train, contemplated him with +unfriendly eyes. Her blouse and linen breeches showed stains of mud and +weather but they had been mended and pressed. Her boots, with the big +rowels still attached, had been cleaned. Her hair, brushed till it shone +like satin, had been coiled in place; even the scratch on her cheek had +been reduced in color if not in length. Her lips were disdainful, her +face curiously colorless as she challenged:</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>"We are back at Slippy Bend. We must leave the train at once. There has +been——"</p> + +<p>"I know. The maid told me of the hold-up and that—that someone was +hurt. I feared—I feared"—even her lips whitened—"I—I've been so +anxious——" She caught her breath in a strangled sob. "She said that it +wasn't one of the train-hands or—or—a soldier, and I—I thought——"</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, it wasn't Greyson," Courtlandt cut in brusquely; his eyes +flamed a warning. "It—it was Phil Denbigh."</p> + +<p>"Phil Denbigh! You don't mean the man Felice married?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—alias Bill Small, the range-rider at the B C."</p> + +<p>"And he—a man like that—was one of the gang?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! Phil was in it to get information, to give warning. He is +entitled to an honorable discharge from his conscience now. His +testimony will rid this part of the country of about twenty +undesirables, the missing Marks and Schoeffleur among them."</p> + +<p>She looked up in dumb incredulity for a moment, then she laughed.</p> + +<p>"So—o, the treasure would have been saved anyway without—without——" +There was another irrepressible ripple of mirth before she asked, "Has +Bruce—has—Mr. Greyson been told?"</p> + +<p>Her laughter, her reference to Greyson snapped Courtlandt's +self-control, which was already strained to the limit of endurance. Even +his lips were white as he caught her by the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what Greyson has been told, but he'll get it straight from +me that you are mine—mine——" With sudden savage ruthlessness he +caught her in his arms and kissed her shining hair, her throat, her +eyes. He let her go. "Now perhaps <i>you</i> understand it too," he announced +huskily.</p> + +<p>Jerry shrank as far away from him as the narrow space would allow. The +color burned in her cheeks, her eyes blazed.</p> + +<p>"You—you have no right to—to do that!" she reminded breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Haven't I?"</p> + +<p>"Don't stand there looking like a lion ready to spring. I—I won't have +it! You promised——"</p> + +<p>"That is humorous. When you ran away with Greyson were you keeping your +promise? At least, you'll acquit me of making love to—another woman. +I——" The door was thrown open violently and Nelson shouted:</p> + +<p>"Get that girl off quick, Steve! We leave in five minutes." The last +words died in the distance as he hurried along the corridor.</p> + +<p>"Come!" Courtlandt commanded, and with a curious look up into his eyes +Jerry preceded him from the compartment. As she stepped from the train +she fell almost into her sister's arms.</p> + +<p>"Peggy!" she gasped in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Where the dickens did you drop from, Peg-o'-my-heart? Why are you at +Slippy Bend at this unholy hour?" Steve demanded peremptorily.</p> + +<p>"Ye gods! Don't ask me why! For information apply to Ito. I only know +that while I was walking the floor at the Double O, wild with anxiety, +that Jap tragedian appeared and announced that he must see the excellent +Mr. Benson. When I succeeded in convincing him that I couldn't produce +the excellent Mr. Benson, he explained that he must take me to Slippy +Bend to meet Mrs. Courtlandt, by order of his honorable master."</p> + +<p>"His master!" Jerry and Courtlandt echoed in unison.</p> + +<p>"That was what he said. He did deign to explain that he had been told to +telephone, but that as all lines were out of order he came himself to +give the message to Mr. Benson. When he found that Tommy wasn't there he +insisted upon bringing me to Slippy Bend himself."</p> + +<p>"Where is Tommy?"</p> + +<p>"Don't snap, Steve. I don't know. I'm one little walking encyclopedia of +ignorance to-night," with a sob which she valiantly tried to strangle at +its birth. "Jerry, where have you been? That Chinese woman of yours met +Tommy and me when we returned from our ride with some incoherent stuff +about your having gone off with a gun. That sent Tommy in a mad rush +after you. All I could get out of the Oriental while I was waiting was, +'Missee tlell Ming Soy when she see little Missee and Mr. Tommee Blenson +she bleat glong.' If I hadn't locked her into the pantry she'd be +beating it yet." She snuggled her arm under her sister's as she asked +again, "Where have you been, Jerry?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you all about it, honey, while we are riding home; that is, +if we are going home." With tantalizing daring she looked up at Steve +and asked with exaggerated humility, "Am I to be permitted to return to +the Double O in the care of Bruce—of Mr. Greyson's man, Mr. +Courtlandt?"</p> + +<p>He flushed darkly, but without answering led the way to the big touring +car. The Jap sat behind the wheel in bronze immobility. When Courtlandt +had laid the rug over the knees of the two girls in the back seat he +closed the door and gave Ito his order.</p> + +<p>"Drive Mrs. Courtlandt and Miss Glamorgan to the Double O as quickly as +you can with safety. Jerry, in some way get word to Gerrish that I need +him at Slippy Bend as soon as he can get here. I'll try 'phoning from +the hotel as well; the lines may be in order now."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you coming with us, Steve?" Peggy's tone was aggrieved.</p> + +<p>"No. I have Blue Devil here; I'll ride out. Good-night!"</p> + +<p>He watched the red light on the departing automobile until it became a +mere spark in the distance. Then he returned to the train. He was still +puzzling over the message Greyson had tried to get to Benson when Nelson +hailed him. He was near the step of the last car.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Steve, get a hustle on! I've been waiting for you." Then as +Courtlandt stood beside him he added in a grave voice, "It's about +Denbigh. When we lifted him he—he went out like a candle. Never saw +anything like it. They've taken the—him to the hotel. You'll have to +notify the authorities, Steve. Simms shot him, and I hope they make that +surly brute pay the piper. I'll give my testimony when they want it. Now +I must get on with this train." He sprang to the step of the car and +seized the rail. Brakeman and conductors stood rigidly awaiting his +signal. Courtlandt stepped back.</p> + +<p>"Just a minute, Steve! Lord, I almost forgot to tell you. There is just +one glint of humor in this infernally tragic night. It seems that +Lochinvar is Greyson of the X Y Z ranch. Don't know where that is; +perhaps you do. His lady friend got the dope about this hold-up, too. +She rode to his place for help and the two flivvered down the track to +stop the train, she standing on the seat grabbing his hair with one hand +while with the other she waved that fool lantern. Can't you see the +picture? I'll say she's some little sport."</p> + +<p>"But—but the elopement?"</p> + +<p>"Lord-ee, Steve, don't take this whole rotten business so to heart. +You're livid. That elopement stuff is the glint. The girl had been told +that there were traitors on the train. She knew Greyson's reason for +flagging it mustn't be suspected; just there the elopement excuse +flashed into her mind. Said she reckoned that elopers were the only +people who would do such a fool stunt. She told the maid about it after +things had quieted down. I'll say she's a peacherino. If I hadn't a +perfectly good wife at home she could have me. Happen to know who she +is?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I happen to know. She is—she is Mrs. Stephen Courtlandt." Nelson +almost fell off the step.</p> + +<p>"For the love of Mike! I don't wonder you're white. She—she was so +darned convincing." With a chuckle he swung forward and gave the signal +to the waiting crew. In a fairly successful imitation of Jerry's voice +he called softly:</p> + +<p>"Go on, Mr. Brakeman. We—we want to get to the coast."</p> + +<p>As he made his way along the street in the starlight Courtlandt felt as +though he were traveling with his double. It was as if his shadow had +suddenly developed a mind which occupied itself exclusively with +thoughts of Jerry, leaving his own brain free to concentrate on the +business ahead. In a spirit of detachment he turned over and over her +reason for the elopement announcement, pictured her ride, her furious +indignation when the flesh and blood Steve had held her in his arms. +There was nothing shadowy in Courtlandt's reaction to that memory.</p> + +<p>The foyer of the small, ramshackle hotel was filled with men, tobacco +smoke, and the hum and buzz of excited voices, all but the space near +one closed door. When they looked in that direction men spoke in +whispers, many of them dragged off their hats. It was as if the +insensate wood had an aura of mystery and tragedy into which no person +in the room cared or dared penetrate. Greyson was the first person to +whom Courtlandt spoke.</p> + +<p>"Bruce—I know now——" With a smile the elder laid his hand on the +younger man's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Forget it, Steve. Had I been in your place I couldn't have carried off +the situation as well, I am glad that I stand exonerated of that +unspeakable treachery. I—I only hope that later when you learn——" he +cleared his throat and went on irrelevantly, "Who's to tell Mrs. Denbigh +about her husband? After all, he was her husband. You were his friend. +She'll take it better from you, Steve."</p> + +<p>A furious protest rose to Courtlandt's lips but he looked at the closed +door and answered instead:</p> + +<p>"Somebody's got to do it. I'll ride over to the X Y Z in the morning. +There is no use in consulting her about any of the arrangements here. +Has anyone wired Denbigh's mother for instructions?"</p> + +<p>"No, we waited for you. You'd better get her on long distance. A train +goes East at two <span class="smcap">A. M.</span>"</p> + +<p>"I understand. While I'm doing that try to get the Double O on the +'phone, will you? Tell them to get Gerrish here as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>"I will. The sheriff wants to see you at the jail when you can manage +it. He's sent a posse after Ranlett. He's in or near that shack in +Buzzard's Hollow, that is, he was."</p> + +<p>"He's there, all right. I signaled with the rockets as Phil directed. He +may be getting a little uneasy at the non-arrival of his bad men by +this time though. How the dickens did you know about it?"</p> + +<p>"Beechy put a bullet into his leg. Jerry will tell you——"</p> + +<p>"Beechy and Jerry!"</p> + +<p>"Don't look like that, Steve. Jerry is safe and Beechy has made good, +gloriously good. Get the little girl to tell you about it. She—she's a +wonder! Meantime the sheriff waits. He wants to talk to you about Simms. +There can be no doubt that he shot Denbigh. He wants your deposition. +Perhaps it is a cold-blooded way to look at it, but I can't help +thinking that with Simms out of the way his wife and kids will have a +chance at real living. That's an awful indictment of a man, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>It was morning when Courtlandt dismounted in the corral of the Double O. +Slowman hurried up to take Blue Devil. The two men talked in low tones +while dawn streaked the sky in rosy peaks and the stars paled. The grass +glittered with diamond-like dew, the fairies had spread their squares of +gossamer everywhere. The boys had come in with the shorthorns, the +corral boss reported, not one missing. The outfit had got news of the +affair at Devil's Hold-up and were fit to tie that they hadn't had a +chance to clean up Ranlett and his gang.</p> + +<p>After the turmoil of the last few hours the ranch-house seemed weirdly +quiet as Courtlandt entered the living-room. The night air had been keen +and a few coals, like observant red eyes, glowed at him from the hearth. +Scherherazade, the white Persian cat, occupied the wing-chair. She +opened her topaz eyes wide as Steve approached the mantel; she watched +unblinkingly as he laid his arms upon it and looked up at the portrait +above him. He spoke softly as though he and the smiling woman were +comrades and confidants.</p> + +<p>"They said that Phil went out like a candle, Mother. Where did he go? +Where are you? It can't be the end. If it were I shouldn't feel as +though you were with me wherever I am. Was I a brute to Jerry? Will she +ever forgive me? Would you if you were in her place?" The tender eyes +must have reassured him for with a husky, "Good-night, Betty Fairfax!" +he straightened his shoulders and turned away. For an instant he stood +looking across the room. As he went toward his own door he whistled +softly his favorite "Papillions." Scherherazade craned her ruffed white +neck to follow the sound, her eyes narrowed to ruby slits. The coals on +the hearth crumbled and fell. She sprang to the back of the chair and +listened. Across the room a door had latched softly.</p> + +<p>Out in Buzzard's Hollow a white-faced, haggard-eyed man was turning over +his three prisoners to the deputy sheriff. Overhead a great bird hung +motionless for an instant as it glared down at the curious creature with +mammoth outspread wings that lay below.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + + +<p>Breakfast in the court was a late affair the morning after the hold-up. +Steve did not appear. Tommy had given Jerry a sketchy account of his +adventure of the night before, minimizing his part in it. Ming Soy +hovered about the table with what, in an Occidental, would be tearful +devotion. The world was as clean and fresh and sweet as wind and rain +and sunshine could make it. Faintly from the corral came the voices of +riders coming and going; the skip and cough and stutter of tractors +drifted in on the breeze. Benito, with much fluttering and shivering and +croaking, was taking his matutinal plunge in the basin of the fountain. +Goober lay beside Jerry's chair, his tawny eyes fixed unblinkingly on +the parrot, his tongue hanging, his white teeth gleaming.</p> + +<p>The girl, in a pink and white frock that suggested the daintiness of +morning-glories, had been absorbed in the thoughts induced by Tommy's +story. It was some time before she became conscious of the obstinate +silence maintained by the usually talkative Peg, who was a bit more +bewilderingly lovely than ever in a frock just a trifle less blue than +the sky above her. Benson was tenderly solicitous of her comfort. Would +she have more honey? Hopi Soy had broken his own record with the +waffles; sure she wouldn't have one? Peg answered his questions with an +indifferent shake of her head. Jerry observed the two in silence for a +few moments before she protested:</p> + +<p>"Don't grovel, Tommy. I don't know what you've done to displease her +royal highness, but knowing you as I do I am sure that it was nothing to +warrant such rudeness. 'Fess up, children, what has happened? 'Who first +bred strife between the chiefs that they should thus contend?'" she +quoted gayly. "That is worthy even of you, Tommy."</p> + +<p>"You may think it's funny, Jerry," flared Peg indignantly. "But if you +had been—been——"</p> + +<p>"Say it! Tell the gentlemen of the jury just what happened, Miss +Glamorgan," prompted Benson in a judicial tone and with a glint in his +blue eyes. "You won't?" as the girl responded only with a glance of +superb scorn. "Then I will." He disregarded her startled, "Don't dare!" +and announced, "I—I kissed her yesterday, Mrs. Steve."</p> + +<p>"I won't stay to hear!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you will!" He caught Peggy gently but firmly by the shoulders. He +stood behind her as he explained. "You see—I want—I intend to marry +your sister, Mrs. Steve. Yesterday I staked my claim. I kissed her +once."</p> + +<p>"Hmp! Squatter rights!" interpolated Peggy angrily.</p> + +<p>"Only once! Are you—sure, Tommy?" Jerry's voice was grave but there was +a traitorous quiver of her vivid lips as she asked the question.</p> + +<p>"Only once, on honor. I told her that I should never do it again until +she gave me permission. I meant it. I know that she is young. I expect +to wait until——"</p> + +<p>Peggy twisted herself free from the restraining hands on her shoulders. +Half-way across the court she turned. Her hazel eyes were brilliant with +laughter, her lips curved tormentingly as she flouted the two at the +table.</p> + +<p>"I—I hate—quitters!" she flung at Benson before she disappeared in the +path which led to the office. Tommy followed her with his eyes, then +turned to Jerry.</p> + +<p>"I always watch where my ball falls so that I can find it quickly," he +explained. The assurance had drained from his voice when he asked, +"What—what do you think of my pronunciamento? Will your father stand +for it, Mrs. Steve?"</p> + +<p>"If you and Peg decide that you really care for one another he will have +to," encouraged Jerry gravely.</p> + +<p>"Peg has told me how he feels about family. Mine is the finest ever—but +we don't date back to Colonial days on this continent. I suppose that we +must have existed somewhere before we came to this country, we couldn't +have been prestidigitated out of the everywhere into the here, could we? +There is plenty of money behind us but—but that angel girl thinks I'm +poor."</p> + +<p>"Don't enlighten her. Let her think so—it may—make her kinder. When +the time comes I'll talk with Dad. I'm with you heart and soul, Tommy, +but I am afraid you have a long road to travel before Peg says 'Yes.'"</p> + +<p>"You are wasting your sympathy. 'I scorn to change my state with +kings!'" he declaimed dramatically before he disappeared into the path +which had swallowed up Peggy.</p> + +<p>Jerry rested her elbows on the table, her chin on her clasped hands, and +gazed thoughtfully after him. Subconsciously she noted the sound of +horses' hoofs on the hard road in front of the house. Who was arriving +at ten o'clock in the morning, she wondered idly before she returned to +thoughts of Peg and Tommy. She sat motionless for so long that Goober +rose, stretched and poked his cold nose under her hands. She stroked his +head gently.</p> + +<p>"Where is your master?" she whispered into one of his big ears. The dog +shook his head, sneezed violently and looked up, his eyes eloquent with +reproach. "Did it tickle? I'm sorry." She reached for a lump of sugar in +the squatty Dutch silver bowl. "If you could say please——" Goober rose +on his hind feet, dangled his crossed forepaws and with head on one side +avidly regarded the enticing white morsel in the girl's fingers. He gave +a short, sharp bark. She tossed him the sugar which he crunched between +his strong teeth. She patted his head. "Do you know, Goober, I think +that any dog is more interesting than the average human. Wait for me. +I'll get my hat and we'll take Patches a lump of sugar."</p> + +<p>Obediently the dog took up his position beside her chair. Humming +lightly Jerry went toward the house. What a glorious morning. The +nightmare of yesterday already seemed like an impossible dream. Some day +she would explain that elopement business to Steve and they would laugh +about it together. She caught her breath as a vision of his face as he +had held her in his arms crowded itself into her mind. She raced up the +court steps to elude her clamorous thoughts. At the door of the +living-room she stopped as though galvanized. She brushed her hand +impatiently across her eyes. Coming into the shadowy room from the +gleaming world outside certainly did queer things to one's vision. +That—that couldn't be Steve with a woman's arm about his neck! There +was an inarticulate sound in her throat as she took a step forward. +Courtlandt heard it. With a muttered imprecation he loosened the +clinging arm. His face was white, his eyes inscrutable as they met +Jerry's.</p> + +<p>"Felice, here is Mrs. Courtlandt. I have been telling Mrs. Denbigh of +her husband's——" the woman beside him interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Steve forgets that I haven't had a husband for several years. I confess +the news was a shock. I had no idea that he was in this part of the +country. I suppose that detestable Fairfax man knew it when he suggested +to Bruce Greyson that he invite me here for the summer. Does that +surprise you, Steve?" as Courtlandt stifled an exclamation.</p> + +<p>"If—if I can do anything to help you——" Jerry had produced an apology +for a voice at last.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, no. Steve is all I need. He is such a comfort. Would anyone +but he have had the sympathetic understanding to wait until he thought I +would be awake before coming with such news to the X Y Z? But I came +here to help him. I have had his happiness on my mind since I found this +on the bench outside the door just after Mr. Greyson had received a +mysterious summons." She held out Steve's campaign hat with its black +and gold cord and the band of silver filigree which Jerry had added the +day before. There was malice thinly disguised with solicitude in the +tone in which she added, "Then—then I understood that—that you and he +had gone——"</p> + +<p>"Felice, cut that out! When I want your intervention in my affairs I'll +ask for it," Courtlandt's tone lashed. "Now that you have returned the +hat you may go. Greyson has made arrangements for you to leave on the +east-bound train in the early afternoon. Your maid is packing for you."</p> + +<p>"But why should I go East, Steve? Phil Denbigh is nothing to me, while +you——" her tone was drenched with significance. She looked defiantly +at Jerry who was conscious that she was giving an excellent imitation of +an automaton. Only her eyes felt alive, they burned, and the pulses in +her throat throbbed. She knew that if she opened her lips it would be to +hurl words at Felice of which she would be utterly ashamed later, that +if she unclenched her hands it would be to strike the mocking woman. She +was terrified at the tumult which shook her. Without a glance toward the +two near the window she crossed the room, entered her boudoir and closed +the door behind her. She leaned against it and listened. She heard the +front door close, footsteps on the porch, voices, then the sound of +horse's hoofs. They had gone!</p> + +<p>With the realization, something inside her seemed to crash. The barrier +of ice which she had erected between her heart and Steve was swept away +in a surge of passionate emotion. She knew now why she had been so +terrified last night when she had heard that a man had been wounded, she +had feared it might be Steve; why she had been so furiously angry at +Felice; why it had hurt so intolerably to see her in Steve's arms. It +wasn't because she thought him false and untrue—it was because she +loved him.</p> + +<p>With confused consciousness that she must escape from her own thoughts +she ran into the living-room. She and Goober would take that sugar to +Patches and then——The smiling, tender eyes of the portrait over the +fireplace drew her like a magnet. She crossed her arms on the mantel and +smiled back at them, valiantly.</p> + +<p>"Mother dear——" she implored breathlessly. "Mother!"</p> + +<p>Comforted in some inexplicable way she dropped her head on her arms. In +retrospect she went back to that evening in her father's apartment when +she and Steve had entered into their matrimonial engagement. He had +staked his future for money, she for social advancement. Old Nick had +been right. How could a man love or respect a girl who would marry for +position? Now that Felice was really free, not merely legally free, +would Steve——Absorbed in her thoughts she was conscious of nothing in +the room till Courtlandt's voice behind her announced authoritatively:</p> + +<p>"I have something to say to you, Jerry."</p> + +<p>To the girl's taut nerves it was the voice of the conqueror laying down +terms of surrender and clemency. In a flash she was back in the library +of the Manor, hearing Steve's cool, determined voice announce, "I shall +consider myself in a position to dictate terms to one member of the +family." If he had meant separation then, what would he mean now with +her silly elopement declaration of the night before to infuriate him? +Was he about to reproach her again for that? Felice had supplied the +last shred of evidence he needed when she produced the hat, if he needed +more than her own statement to the brakeman to convict her. Her anger +flamed. He shouldn't get a chance to indict her. To put one's opponent +on the defense meant strategic advantage. Before he could speak she +fended:</p> + +<p>"You can't reproach me for last night, Steve, after—after what I saw +when I came into this room. Honors are even," flippantly.</p> + +<p>He caught her by the shoulders and looked steadily into her angry eyes. +They met his defiantly. His voice was grave as he probed:</p> + +<p>"After last night and—and this morning, Jerry, do you still—still want +to go on with it?"</p> + +<p>"Go on with it? Do you—you mean our comedy of marriage? Why not? +'Rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of.' +You see I have contracted Tommy's pernicious habit of borrowing from the +classics when I wish to express myself with force and distinction. Let +me go!"</p> + +<p>Courtlandt's grip on her shoulders tightened. His face was white. There +was a rigidity about his jaws which should have warned her.</p> + +<p>"Flippancy won't save you. You are to listen to me now, girl."</p> + +<p>"While you boast to me again as you did last night that you had not made +love to another woman? Not a chance!" she twisted away from him and +gained the threshold of her own room. "Don't—don't let me keep you from +your alluring—friend," she flung back at him before she closed and +locked her door on the inside with grating emphasis.</p> + +<p>Then she listened with hands clasped tight over her heart. The anger +which was so foreign to her character had been a mere flash in the pan. +Already she was sorry and humiliated and ashamed. She had maintained +always that a girl who could not keep her temper, who wrangled, belonged +in the quarter where shrewish women, with shawls over their heads and +forlorn little babies forever under their feet, fought and brawled. +Hadn't she seen them in her childhood? And she—she who thought herself +superior hadn't been much better under the skin. She could have +scratched Felice's eyes out and as for Steve——</p> + +<p>Where was he now? The living-room was portentously still. Had he gone? +Why couldn't she have listened to his explanation, have assumed a +friendliness which this new, disturbing riot in her veins made +impossible as a reality? Her eyes which still smarted with unshed tears +traveled round the dainty, chintz-hung boudoir. In a detached way she +noted that the one picture on the wall, which served as the key-note to +the color scheme of the room, needed straightening. She must speak to +Ming Soy——Her heart hopped to her throat, then did a tail-spin to her +toes as a low, stern voice outside her room commanded:</p> + +<p>"Open the door, Jerry."</p> + +<p>She stood rigid, motionless.</p> + +<p>"Open the door!" there was an undercurrent in Courtlandt's words which +seemed to paralyze her muscles. In a voice the more compelling because +of its repression he threatened, "If you don't open it at once—I'll +break it in!" The shake he gave the barrier between them broke the spell +which held the girl. She turned the key and flung open the door.</p> + +<p>With a sudden fierce movement he caught her hands. She had a confused +sense of flinging herself against an inflexible, determined will as she +struggled to free them. She met his steady, dominant eyes.</p> + +<p>"Steve! What—what rank melodrama! Are you qualifying for the movies?" +she essayed a nonchalant tone which to her hypercritical senses seemed +horribly frightened. "What—what do you want?"</p> + +<p>"That door open. Nothing else—now," Courtlandt answered as he dropped +her hands and turned away.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + + +<p>"What shall we do this afternoon, Jerry?" Peggy Glamorgan asked as she, +her sister and Benson sat at luncheon three hours later. The table was +spread on the broad, shadowy veranda on the north side of the +ranch-house. The sun beat down upon fields and white roads; insects +droned lazily to the accompaniment of the faint roar of the stream +swollen by the heavy rain of the night before. "Ye gods! If here isn't +Abdul the Great," she mocked saucily as Courtlandt appeared at the door. +"Are his humble slaves to be honored with his presence at the noonday +meal? Allah, oh Allah! Jerry, aren't you overwhelmed at this tribute to +our charms?"</p> + +<p>"Can't a man lunch beneath his own vine and fig tree without creating a +panic? From now on I shall make it a daily rite that you may get used to +it," Steve laughed. He laid his hand on Benson's shoulder. "Tommy, +you're a hero. Slippy Bend is agog with admiration. What the populace +can't think of to say in praise of you the deputy sheriff supplies in +the most colorful vernacular the locality produces. Don't run; I won't +say any more," as Benson, fiery red, half rose from his chair. Steve +seated himself opposite Jerry.</p> + +<p>She observed him resentfully from behind a screen of lashes. He looked +more care-free and debonair than she had ever seen him while her heart +still contracted suffocatingly at any thought of the morning. It was +just like a man, nothing went deep, she thought. Ming Soy fluttered +about in devoted anticipation of his needs; Peggy poured cream into his +tea with a lavish hand. Benson laughed.</p> + +<p>"You're a master tactician, old dear. You let your light shine upon us +but seldom and behold the devotion when you do appear. Alas, 'Maidens, +like moths, are ever caught by glare.' I'll say your beatific expression +would put the twinkle-twinkle-little-star effect out of business. Got a +load off your mind, haven't you? Slowman tells me that the Shorthorns +are back to a hoof, that our temperamental late manager is being +securely, if not luxuriously accommodated with quarters in the jail and +that—that Mrs. Denbigh is en route to the effete East via Slippy Bend. +Is my information correct?" He stole a surreptitious glance at Jerry +who, with the aid of a pink-tipped finger, was nonchalantly sailing rose +petal boats on the sea of her crystal finger-bowl.</p> + +<p>"It is. The tangle of the last few months is straightening out. From +now on I'll subscribe to that bit of philosophy of Doc Rand's, 'Things +have a marvelous, unbelievable way of coming right.' The late +unpleasantness has resulted in one thing: we have an all-American outfit +on the Double O ranch on whose honor I'd stake my last dollar. They may +come of varied and contending races but when it comes to ideals of +service and loyalty to the nation, they're united. Next week I'm going +to Uncle Nick's camp in the mountains to inspect the silver mine, and +incidentally to fish. There is a lake there where the trout are so thick +they form bread-lines to get a chance at the bait."</p> + +<p>"You tell 'em!" jeered Benson.</p> + +<p>"It's a fact. I want to shake the memory of the last two months, to get +away so that I can come back and make a fresh start. I'll leave you in +charge of the ranch, Tommy."</p> + +<p>"'When Caesar says, "Do this," it is performed.'"</p> + +<p>"What's on for this afternoon? Let's do something. I want to get +yesterday out of my mind."</p> + +<p>"Miss Glamorgan and I thought—I thought—that if you didn't need me, +we'd ride over to Buzzard's Hollow; that spot seems to be occupying +stage center now. I'll personally conduct you and Mrs. Steve over the +abandoned aeroplane if you'll mosey along with us."</p> + +<p>Jerry tried to control a shudder. She wondered if she could ever again +hear the name of the hollow without seeing a close-up of Beechy and +Ranlett and that mutilated calf. She sensed Courtlandt's quick look at +her and answered hurriedly:</p> + +<p>"Don't count me in. I shan't ride again until—until I have forgotten +the hours I spent in the saddle yesterday. Buzzard's Hollow as an +objective leaves me cold. If no one else wants the roadster I shall +drive over to the B C to inquire for Mrs. Carey. Mother Eagan may allow +me to see the baby."</p> + +<p>Jerry could have cheerfully bitten out her too confiding tongue when an +hour later she found Steve waiting beside the roadster at the front +door. He had changed from his usual riding togs to sport clothes. He +reddened under her surprised eyes.</p> + +<p>"Have you gone saddle shy too?" she asked flippantly to conceal her +frightened suspicion that he was going with her.</p> + +<p>"No, but I must see Beechy and as you were going to Bear Creek I thought +we'd go along together."</p> + +<p>"But—I—would rather——"</p> + +<p>"Get in, please. It will take time to get to the B C by the road in this +car, which is far from being the last word in speed-limit violators."</p> + +<p>With teeth set in her lips to steady them Jerry stepped into the +roadster. What motive was back of Steve's decision to accompany her, she +wondered, as the car shot smoothly ahead under his skilful driving. She +regarded him covertly from under the brim of her rose-colored hat. He +was gazing straight ahead, his brows knit in a slight frown. The silence +between them seemed heavy with portent. She must say something. From far +off came a faint whistle.</p> + +<p>"Is that the east-bound train?" she asked and then wished fervently that +she hadn't.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Just pulling out of Slippy Bend. Felice is on it. Jerry, I want +you to understand that the situation you stumbled on this morning was +merely some of her theatrical clap-trap. When I told her about Phil she +flung herself into my arms and pretended to be overcome."</p> + +<p>"Don't apologize," the girl mocked, then as she caught a dangerous gleam +in his eyes she abandoned thin ice. "Has Mr. Denbigh——"</p> + +<p>"I got Phil's mother on long distance soon after midnight. Gerrish took +him—went East in the early morning."</p> + +<p>"Was he a dear friend of yours?"</p> + +<p>"No. He was in my class at college but he was always aloof, unfriendly. +While the rest of us were in athletics he was devoting himself to his +violin. We thought him indifferent but I understand now that his +position had corroded his sensitive heart."</p> + +<p>"Position? Wasn't he of the elect?"</p> + +<p>"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Jerry. Phil's father and mother were among +the great army of incompatibles. His heritage of misery as the child of +divorced parents, tossed back and forth between their habitations, +ruined his life but—but he made royally good at the last, poor chap."</p> + +<p>Jerry blinked furiously to rid her eyes of the tears which had flooded +them at his tone. They rode on in silence. The road ran through the +fragrant, chill quiet of dense pines, which creaked and swayed a +mournful note in the slight breeze. When they emerged into the +willow-fringed, sun dappled road again Courtlandt spoke.</p> + +<p>"I want you to tell me everything that happened yesterday, Jerry. I—I +know now that that elopement stuff was all a bluff but—but it was an +infernally dangerous one. It was lucky for Greyson that an interest +bigger than any individual was concerned in last night's work +or—forgive me for my lack of faith and tell me what happened, won't +you, girl?"</p> + +<p>Jerry snatched at her stampeding composure and dragged it back. Her +answer was tantalizingly slow.</p> + +<p>"That 'won't you' was a master stroke of diplomacy. Machiavellian, I +call it. Had you demanded an explanation I wouldn't have given it. Where +shall I commence?" She saw him stiffen at her levity but he had his +voice well in hand as he answered:</p> + +<p>"At the beginning."</p> + +<p>"Only on condition that there are no interruptions."</p> + +<p>"Then be merciful and tell your story quickly."</p> + +<p>Jerry began the recital of her adventures with her determination to +amuse Peggy. She forgot herself, she was quite unconscious of the +unevenness of Courtlandt's driving as the story unrolled of its own +momentum. He did not interrupt with words but at times the car shot +forward as though propelled by a furious impulse. They passed Jim Carey +herding some lank-bodied, big-kneed calves before him. He waved and +shouted a greeting. As they entered the cottonwoods by the Bear Creek +corral Jerry described the culmination of the wild ride on the track, +her stunned amazement when she had heard Steve's furious exclamation +behind her. Her voice was traitorously unsteady as she added:</p> + +<p>"'O ye of little faith!' Even when I saw you there, knew that you had +heard my explanation, I—I thought that—that somehow you would +understand."</p> + +<p>"Why would I? You had told me that you had been engaged to Greyson. You +never can tell what a man will do when he is mad about a woman, when he +loves her crown of shining hair, her eyes, her smile, the—the tip of +her bare pink foot." Memory sent a surge of red to his face. He brought +the car to a stop in front of the shack. Beechy, his face white, his +hair redder and more rampant than ever, called eagerly from the open +window at which he sat bolstered up in a chair.</p> + +<p>"Wait for me at the house. I shan't be long."</p> + +<p>Jerry nodded dumbly, and drove on. Courtlandt's words had set her heart +beating a furious call to arms. What had he meant? Who was mad about a +woman? He or Greyson? Whose bare pink foot? Involuntarily she tucked one +suede shoe under her, her cheeks flushed warmly. He—he couldn't have +meant her.</p> + +<p>In the living-room of the cabin Jerry held the cocoon of soft flannel, +which in turn held the Carey baby, in her arms. She laid her soft cheek +against his.</p> + +<p>"Isn't—isn't he the dearest!" she crooned as she felt the sweet warm +thrill of his satin-soft skin against her face. Doc Rand, before the +fireplace, flapping his long black coat-tails in time to his +heel-and-toe teeter, blinked at her through lenses which had become +unaccountably misty. His russet-apple face showed a new set of lines.</p> + +<p>"I—I am so glad that he arrived safely," Jerry observed innocently, +punctuating the words with cooing sounds directed at the crease in the +baby's neck. Indignation at the possible slur on his professional skill +served as a safety valve for Rand's emotion which had been so +unaccountably stirred by the sight of the lovely girl with the child in +her arms. He had seen the same thing unmoved hundreds of times before, a +woman with her face snuggled against a baby's.</p> + +<p>"Arrived safely! Why shouldn't he arrive safely in a home like this? +Take it from me, the Almighty's going to pick his mothers carefully from +now on. He's just had a demonstration of what ought not to happen in +poor Denbigh's case. He'll find a way to make women realize what a great +and glorious privilege it is to be the mother of an American citizen."</p> + +<p>"Of either sex?" probed the girl mischievously.</p> + +<p>"You've said it. The female of the species has got to take her share in +the responsibility of the government. If we have another war, God grant +we don't, the young women will be drafted to work, just as the men will +to fight. There'll be no feminine slackers infesting the neighborhoods +of the camps next time."</p> + +<p>"Hear! Hear!" applauded a low voice from the door. Doc Rand beamed at +the newcomer paternally.</p> + +<p>"Steve, you scoffer, come in! Take a look at what your wife has in that +bundle."</p> + +<p>Jerry wished passionately that she were a thousand miles away when Steve +loomed over her but she didn't intend to let him suspect it. She pulled +away the soft blanket that he could see better and challenged +breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"Isn't he a sweetie peach?"</p> + +<p>"Isn't he—it—very red?" Courtlandt stammered in honest embarrassment +that he could not conscientiously voice a paean of praise of the beauty +of the Carey heir. Doc Rand indulged in a denatured guffaw.</p> + +<p>"Lord-ee, Steve, your mental propeller showered sparks of originality +that time, didn't it? The baby isn't appreciated here; you'd better take +him back to his mother, Mrs. Eagan," as the nurse, beaming with +full-moon effulgence, entered the room. Jerry smiled up at the portly +woman as she laid the little bundle in her arms.</p> + +<p>"Give my love to Mrs. Carey and tell her that he is the loveliest baby I +ever saw," she whispered eagerly.</p> + +<p>"What do you think about Beechy, Doc?" Courtlandt asked as Mrs. Eagan +left the room.</p> + +<p>"He'll pull through now that he has eased his conscience by confession. +I had to let him talk and unburden his mind before I could heal his +body."</p> + +<p>"I've just come from the shack. Carl told me that if—it hadn't been for +Denbigh he would have been in on that deal last night."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Steve, but Beechy was out of the hold-up for good when he found +that it was government money they were after. He was prepared to take +what was coming to him for quitting; he knew mighty well that a man +couldn't double-cross Ranlett and—and live, that is, not if the Skunk +knew it. He knows now that Denbigh saved him. Beechy isn't bad at +heart. He and a lot of others like him are suffering from an acute +attack of disillusionment, that's all. They'd been fed up on +'Hail-to-the-conquering-hero' stuff and when the shouting was over and +they spent weary months in hospital forgotten by the world at large, and +in particular by that female portion of it that had fed them, written to +them, married them during the war, do you wonder that they were ready +for any deviltry that was afoot? I don't. But you see, in spite of his +loud talk, when Beechy came slam up against the proposition of +defrauding his government, ungrateful government that he thought it, +there was nothing doing. He couldn't get away with it. He'll never be +able to do much hard work, but there must be a place for him."</p> + +<p>"A place for him! If he ever escapes my clutches again he's more +slippery than I think him."</p> + +<p>"Go to it, Steve! Even you and I salaam when he speaks in that tone, +don't we, Mrs. Jerry?"</p> + +<p>The sun had dropped behind the mountains; fields and foot-hills lay +luminous and still as Courtlandt drove the roadster past the corral at +the Double O. A bunch of horses was being turned into the pastures for +the night feed. They nipped, they kicked, they rolled. The riders who +were driving them out tolerated their antics patiently, with an +occasional admonitory "Hi-yew!" Jerry turned to look after them.</p> + +<p>"I wish Peg could have seen that. In this light, in their broad-brimmed +hats, their colored neckerchiefs, their gloves, their costumes are +picturesque. They would have satisfied even her craving for local +color."</p> + +<p>Courtlandt drove on to the ranch-house without answering. It had been a +silent ride home. Jerry had been tensely apprehensive of what might be +coming when they started, but as the man beside her drove steadily with +only an occasional inquiry as to her comfort, she had relaxed and +allowed her thoughts to drift.</p> + +<p>Steve followed her into the living-room. As she opened the door of her +boudoir he spoke from where he stood under his mother's portrait.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Jerry! Please——" he added with a smile as she hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I must dress for dinner. I——"</p> + +<p>"There is plenty of time. I want to talk to you. Come here!" As a safe +and sane compromise she took refuge behind the back of the wing-chair.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she queried defensively.</p> + +<p>With startling suddenness he caught her hands and drew her to the hearth +beside him.</p> + +<p>"That's better! I can't talk to you when you are so far away." His grip +on her hands tightened. "Jerry, do you remember that day at the Manor +when Uncle Nick's will was read? You——"</p> + +<p>"The—the day we decided to make the detour? It—it has proved an +adventure, hasn't it?" she interrupted in a breathless attempt to gain +time. Courtlandt ignored the question.</p> + +<p>"You asked me if I wanted his fortune. Do you also remember my answer?" +Then as with downcast cast eyes she nodded assent, he repeated, "'More I +ever wanted anything, except one, in my life.' You thought that that one +thing was Felice and I—I let you think so. I meant you, Jerry. No, you +can't go, you've got to listen now. We've been playing at cross purposes +long enough. I wanted Uncle Nick's money because I wanted to be rid of +the humiliating load of obligation we Courtlandts had shouldered. I +wanted to meet you on equal terms. I loved you the first time I saw you +in your shimmering orchid gown with the great fan which you wielded with +the air of an empress. Who was I to tell you so? You wouldn't have +believed me, you would have despised me as a hypocrite. I had no money, +nothing but debts to offer you. But if I hadn't loved you nothing could +have forced me, nothing could have tempted me to ask you to marry me. On +the way in to meet you that first night, I promised Sir Peter that if in +any way you were repellent to me, I would let your father take +possession of our property. I—I—well, I had to bluff some to my father +going home to cover my bowled-over condition. I don't ask for anything +now, I only want a promise that you won't close your heart against +me—that you will—oh, what's the use—you must love me!"</p> + +<p>The girl looked down upon the head pressed against her hands then up at +the tender eyes of the woman above the mantel. Were they misted or were +there tears in her own eyes? She choked back a sound that was half +laugh, half sob as she observed with tantalizing charm:</p> + +<p>"Of course when you say 'must,' O Abdul the Great——" Before she could +finish the sentence Steve had her crushed in his arms.</p> + +<p>"It's your own fault, Mr. Tommy Benson. I told you that I shouldn't——"</p> + +<p>It was Peggy's voice at the door. In breathless haste Jerry freed +herself from Courtlandt's arms. He caught her hands and drew her back. +His voice was tenderly exultant, his eyes disconcertingly possessive as +he reminded huskily:</p> + +<p>"About that honeymoon I promised to show you, Mrs. Courtlandt——Can I +interest you in a silver mine?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + + +<p>The two men were in striking contrast. Glamorgan, massive, shrewd-eyed, +of big affairs and world interests and Peter Courtlandt patrician, +dreamy-eyed, who dwelt largely in the realm of books and art, were +smoking on the terrace of the Manor. They could look down the +box-bordered paths of the garden to where stone steps led to a small +landing on the shore of the river. A tender swung at its moorings. +Motor-boats and steam-boats plied busily back and forth on the water +which rippled into scales of gold. From a man-o'-war anchored +down-stream came the sound of a ship's band. The sun was setting with +lavish prodigality of color, spreading great swaths of crimson and gold +and violet above the hills. One steady brilliant star shone in the west. +From the garden drifted the scent of heliotrope. The light breeze +stirred the awning over the terrace, gently lifted the soft rings of +white hair on Peter Courtlandt's head, impertinently flicked the sheets +of the letter Glamorgan held.</p> + +<p>Courtlandt withdrew his eyes from the river and looked at his guest. +The large man was smiling broadly, at his thoughts, doubtless, as his +eyes were fixed unseeingly on the star. His host suddenly remembered +that he had not seen the oil-king smile like that since Jerry and Steve +had left the Manor; he had appeared like a man spiritually burdened. +Could his furious indignation because his daughter had gone West with +her husband have accounted for his gravity? Courtlandt tossed the +remains of his cigar over the terrace wall and addressed his companion.</p> + +<p>"You said that you had a letter to read to me," he suggested. +Glamorgan's eyes flashed to his—was there a hint of tears in them?—the +smile on his lips spread and spread until his host was reminded of the +moon in all the glory of its fullness. He laughed in sympathy. "It must +be amusing, if one judges by your expression." The oil-king indulged in +a throaty chuckle; it sounded like the delight of a boy in some +satisfactorily accomplished bit of mischief.</p> + +<p>"It isn't the letter which is so amusing, though I'll hand it to Peg +when it comes to expression that has punch, it is what I can read +between the lines. Listen to what she writes and you'll understand." He +settled huge horn-rimmed eye-glasses in place and began to read from the +letter in his hand.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Dad</span>:</p> + +<p>"By this time you must have received my letter about the near +hold-up, <i>poor</i> Mr. Denbigh, Beechy, Tommy (Benson the Bluffer +the outfit call him now) and your she's-a-hero daughter. I +penned that throbbing epistle on the morning after our return +from Slippy Bend when my mind was a red hot molten mass of +<i>thrills</i>. Well, to quote Scripture (don't give me the credit +of this, Tommy Benson reeled it off when I expressed amazement +at what was happening and I copied it from the Bible), 'There +be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which +I know not: The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a +serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; +and the way of a man with a maid.' It is that last phrase which +has to do with the situation here. When I first came Steve had +<i>about</i> as much expression in his face when he looked at Jerry +as has that granite civil war veteran in the park at Oil City. +Jerry was as bad. They were the nearest to cold-storage +newly-weds that I had ever seen. Now—ye gods!—when I look up +and see Steve's eyes on Jerry my heart <i>stampedes</i>. I feel as +though I had made the unpardonable break of opening a closed +door without knocking. Jerry behaves a little better. She keeps +her eyes to heel but her <i>voice</i>——</p> + +<p>"'The devil hath not in all his quiver's choice an arrow for +the heart like a sweet voice.' Tommy Benson again. He is a more +liberal education than English 27 at College. I asked him if the +lines were Shakespeare or the Bible and he said that a gentleman +named Byron wrote them but that I was <i>not</i> to cultivate his +acquaintance indiscriminately. I have sent east for <i>all</i> of Mr. +Byron's poems. But I digress.</p> + +<p>"To return to Steve and Jerry. They start on a camping trip +to-morrow, up into the wilderness to inspect some silly old +silver mine. Steve has sent Marcelle O'Neil ahead with +packhorses, guns, provisions, and rods. Thank heaven they +didn't ask <i>me</i> to go. I'm to stay at the Double O with Tommy +Benson's mother, who arrived yesterday. She's a stylish-stout +of about fifty with wonderful skin and teeth, eyes that make +you feel you'd like to <i>drown</i> in them they are so like +clear-blue pools; hair like dull gold and a smile—well, I +walked <i>straight</i> into her arms when she turned it on me.</p> + +<p>"I wrote you that Jerry seemed terribly short of money. You +<i>must</i> do something about it. Her Tiffany flame has found an +Alexandrite that she wants. When I told her the price, a +<i>miserable</i> little two thousand dollars, you would have thought +I'd mentioned the amount of the Allied war debt. Why don't you +send her the ring?</p> + +<p>"From my limited observation (there's been something doing +every minute since I set foot on the Double O), I should say +that ranching was a great life when the coyotes didn't steal +your chickens, when the Shorthorns didn't break away, or when a +disgruntled fragment of your outfit didn't shoot up the +neighborhood. Jerry says that she and Steve will spend their +winters at the Manor after they have been here a year, +something to do with Uncle Nick's will, <i>you</i> probably know +about it. Steve will take Tommy Benson into partnership and he +will be manager-in-chief. It's a <i>great</i> chance for Tommy. He +is the poor-man-with-a-future type. He's <i>super</i>-sensitive +about his lack of money, though. Bruce Greyson brought a +perfectly <i>stunning</i> man to call the other day, heir to a +fortune. Of course I had to be nice to him. Ye gods! You should +have seen Tommy while he was here. After the plutocrat had +departed I asked him why he had looked as though he could have +crunched mountain lion in the raw. He just <i>glowered</i> and +quoted:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'O what a world of vile, ill favoured faults<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks handsome in three thousand pounds a year.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"From my window I can see Sandy's flivver in the distance; that +means that I must wind up this letter—pronto. That carrier is +the <i>funniest</i> sight. He wears a tall white hat and a linen +duster and looks for all the world like the Mad Hatter in +'Alice.' I almost expect to hear him snap when he sees me +coming, 'Your hair needs cutting,' the way the Hatter does in +the story. <i>Heaps</i> of love,</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Peg</span>.</p> + +<p>"P.S. Praise be! Careful Cosmetics has departed. That's what I +call the Denbigh woman."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Glamorgan removed his glasses and threw back his head with a chuckling +laugh. Courtlandt laughed with him.</p> + +<p>"Peggy certainly wields a facile pen. I—I am glad of what she writes +about Steve and Jerry. I confess that I feared——"</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you about that, Courtlandt," interrupted Glamorgan +eagerly. "It has taken all my strength of will and then some, not to +take you into my confidence but—but I promised your brother-in-law +that——"</p> + +<p>"Nicholas Fairfax!"</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder you are astonished. You see, from the moment I saw him I +fell for him. I'd known a lot of men like him. Chestnut burrs outside +but sound and sweet in their hearts. He must have felt that I understood +him for he hadn't been at the Manor long before he confided his doubts +and hopes to me. Old Nick was keener than you or I. He hadn't been here +twenty-four hours before he had sized up the situation between Jerry and +Steve. He realized that they were heading straight for the matrimonial +reefs where so many of their friends had come to grief. I guess he +realized also that I was a little more anxious for that marriage to turn +out a success than even he was. The Lord only knows the burden of guilt +I would have carried the rest of my life if it hadn't."</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't have been the only one."</p> + +<p>"I know that, Courtlandt. Nick realized that he hadn't long to live. He +felt sure of Jerry's loyalty, that all that was needed to right matters +between the two was to give Steve money and make the girl dependent on +him. He knew the boy well enough to know that his pride would stand +between them as long as Jerry was spending my money. That was where I +came in. He had me cast for the stern parent act. I was to oppose +Jerry's going to the ranch. Opposition, he figured, would steel her +determination to go with her husband, if she was tempted to waver. I +knew my girl better. I knew that she would keep the covenant but I +consented to please Old Nick. I almost caved in the day she went away, +when I saw her watch the gate wistfully until the train started, but I +kept out of sight."</p> + +<p>"Who would have believed to have seen Nick in those last days that he +was planning so shrewdly."</p> + +<p>"That wasn't all he planned. He had the dickens of a time with Greyson. +He wanted him to invite Mrs. Denbigh to the X Y Z for the summer as a +sort of acid test for Steve."</p> + +<p>"What a diabolical idea."</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure of that. His argument was that if the woman had the +slightest lure for Steve——"</p> + +<p>"But she hadn't," Courtlandt denied sharply.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't see how she could have, but then vamps aren't in my line. +Nick was possessed by the idea. Greyson kicked like a steer against it +but finally gave in. You can't tell. Fairfax may have had other reasons +up his sleeve. Denbigh was at the Bear Creek ranch. He might have +thought, have hoped, that he and Felice would come together again. In +spite of his ill-health and absorption in his ranch, your brother-in-law +was a profound thinker on social and economic questions. I spent hours +arguing with him. He contended that the great weakness of the American +people lay in their lack of stability, that they could be swept along on +a wave of enthusiasm but that when it came to the steady tide of +determination they wouldn't even tread water; that lack of stability was +at the root of the divorce habit, which if it wasn't checked would +insidiously undermine the character of the nation."</p> + +<p>"He was right, but," with a profound sigh of relief, "it looks as though +Jerry and Steve had escaped the reefs, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I'll say it does," with a reminiscent chuckle. "Now you know why I +gloated over that letter of Peg's. The child didn't realize how she was +easing my mind. Do you know, I like what she writes about that Benson +boy. Next to a man with family background I have a deep and abiding +respect for a man who has the best in literature at his tongue's end. +He's a rare bird these days."</p> + +<p>"Then you wouldn't object if Peg and Tommy—he hasn't the kind of family +you want behind him."</p> + +<p>"I don't care who Peggy marries if he is clean and upstanding, with +self-respect and love for my girl. I'm through meddling, though I'm not +sorry for what I did with Jerry. She stood nine chances out of ten of +marrying a fortune-hunter; Steve wasn't that; he had to be forcibly fed +with money. In spite of that fact I haven't drawn an easy breath since +Nick told me his suspicions, until now." He glanced at the letter. "I +think I'll send that Alexandrite as a sort of peace offering."</p> + +<p>"You're too late. Steve wired to me to have it sent."</p> + +<p>"He did! Then you knew all I have been telling you?"</p> + +<p>"No. I only put two and two together when I got Steve's message."</p> + +<p>Glamorgan rose, shook himself like a bear and extended one hand to his +host. His voice was curiously rough as he laid the other on his shoulder +and confided awkwardly:</p> + +<p>"Good-night! I—I hope they'll name the first son Peter, Courtlandt."</p> + +<p>Courtlandt put his free hand on the big man's shoulder. His laugh was +unsteady but his voice was vibrant with feeling as he countered:</p> + +<p>"And I—I hope they'll name the second one—Dan. Good-night." They stood +shaking hands furiously, laughing boyishly, and patting one another's +shoulders as the lights flashed up on the river and night rang down the +curtain of dusk.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOKS_BY_EMILIE_LORING" id="BOOKS_BY_EMILIE_LORING"></a>BOOKS BY EMILIE LORING</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT<br /></span> +<span class="i0">HERE COMES THE SUN!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A CERTAIN CROSSROAD<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THE SOLITARY HORSEMAN<br /></span> +<span class="i0">GAY COURAGE<br /></span> +<span class="i0">SWIFT WATCH<br /></span> +<span class="i0">LIGHTED WINDOWS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">FAIR TOMORROW<br /></span> +<span class="i0">UNCHARTED SEAS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">HILLTOPS CLEAR<br /></span> +<span class="i0">WE RIDE THE GALE!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">WITH BANNERS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">IT'S A GREAT WORLD<br /></span> +<span class="i0">GIVE ME ONE SUMMER<br /></span> +<span class="i0">AS LONG AS I LIVE<br /></span> +<span class="i0">TODAY IS YOURS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">HIGH OF HEART<br /></span> +<span class="i0">ACROSS THE YEARS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THERE IS ALWAYS LOVE<br /></span> +<span class="i0">WHERE BEAUTY DWELLS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">STARS IN YOUR EYES<br /></span> +<span class="i0">RAINBOW AT DUSK<br /></span> +<span class="i0">WHEN HEARTS ARE LIGHT AGAIN<br /></span> +<span class="i0">KEEPERS OF THE FAITH<br /></span> +<span class="i0">BEYOND THE SOUND OF GUNS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">BRIGHT SKIES<br /></span> +<span class="i0">BECKONING TRAILS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I HEAR ADVENTURE CALLING<br /></span> +<span class="i0">LOVE CAME LAUGHING BY<br /></span> +<span class="i0">TO LOVE AND TO HONOR<br /></span> +<span class="i0">FOR ALL YOUR LIFE<br /></span> +<span class="i0">MY DEAREST LOVE<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I TAKE THIS MAN<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THE SHADOW OF SUSPICION<br /></span> +<span class="i0">WHAT THEN IS LOVE<br /></span> +<span class="i0">LOOK TO THE STARS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">BEHIND THE CLOUD<br /></span> +<span class="i0">WITH THIS RING<br /></span> +<span class="i0">HOW CAN THE HEART FORGET<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THROW WIDE THE DOOR<br /></span> +<span class="i0">FOLLOW YOUR HEART<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 34129-h.txt or 34129-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/4/1/2/34129">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/1/2/34129</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Trail of Conflict + + +Author: Emilie Baker Loring + + + +Release Date: October 24, 2010 [eBook #34129] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT*** + + +E-text prepared by Darleen Dove, Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT + +by + +EMILIE LORING + + + + + + + +Publishers +Grosset & Dunlap +New York + +Copyright 1922 by the Penn Publishing Company + +By Arrangement with Little, Brown & Company + +Made in the U. S. A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I + + CHAPTER II + + CHAPTER III + + CHAPTER IV + + CHAPTER V + + CHAPTER VI + + CHAPTER VII + + CHAPTER VIII + + CHAPTER IX + + CHAPTER X + + CHAPTER XI + + CHAPTER XII + + CHAPTER XIII + + CHAPTER XIV + + CHAPTER XV + + CHAPTER XVI + + CHAPTER XVII + + CHAPTER XVIII + + CHAPTER XIX + + CHAPTER XX + + CHAPTER XXI + + CHAPTER XXII + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"That is your ultimatum, Glamorgan? My boy for your girl or you scoop up +my possessions and transfuse them into yours?" + +Peter Courtlandt tapped the arm of his chair nervously as he regarded +the man who sat opposite in front of the fire. The two men were in +striking contrast. Courtlandt seemed a component part of the room in +which they sat, a room which with its dull, velvety mahogany, its costly +Eastern rugs, its rare old portraits and book-lined walls, proclaimed +generations of ancestors who had been born to purple and fine linen. He +was spare and tall. His features might have served as the model for the +portrait of Nelson in the Metropolitan Museum. His eyes were darkly +luminous, the eyes of a dreamer; his white hair curled in soft rings +over his head; his hands were long and patrician. Glamorgan was built on +the Colossus plan, large head, heavy features into which the elements +had ground a dull color, a huge body without the least trace of fat. +Only his eyes were small. They looked as though they had been forgotten +until the last moment, as though the designer had then hastily poked +holes beneath the Websterian brows to insert two brilliant green beads. +He was a handsome man in a clean-souled, massive way; moreover he looked +to be a person who would crash through obstacles and win out by sheer +persistence. + +He flung the remains of his cigar into the fire as he answered +Courtlandt. With the cushion-tipped fingers of his large hands spread +upon his knees he bent forward and fixed his interrogator with his +emerald gaze. + +"That statement sounds raw but it's true. I've been playing my cards for +what you call a scoop for some time. Fifty years ago my mother brought +her family from Wales to this country. We had come from the coal region. +Coal was all the older children knew, so we drifted to Pennsylvania. +Until I was seventeen I picked coal. Occasionally I saw the stockholders +who came to inspect the mines. One day your father brought you. You +passed me as though I were a post, but right then and there I learned +the difference between mere money and money with family behind it. That +day I laid my plans for life. I'd make money, Lord, how I'd pile it up; +I'd cut out the dissipations of my kind, I'd marry the most refined girl +who'd have me, and I'd have one of my children, at least, marry into a +family like yours. My grandchildren should have ancestors who counted. +Well, I got the girl. She had good Virginia stock behind her. Geraldine +was born and after five years Margaret, and then my wife died. I began +to pile. I denied myself everything but books, that my girls could be +fitted to fill the position I was determined they should have. I----" + +Peter Courtlandt's clear, high-bred voice interrupted. There was a trace +of amusement in his tone: + +"Did you never think that your daughters might develop plans of their +own? That they might refuse to be disposed of so high-handedly?" + +"Margaret may, but Jerry won't. Since she was a little thing she's been +brought up with the idea of marrying for social position; she knows that +my heart is set on it. Why, I used to visit her at school dressed in my +roughest clothes, that the difference between me and the other fathers +would soak in thoroughly. Oh well, smile. I acknowledge that the idea is +an obsession with me; every man has some weak joint; that's mine. I'll +say for Jerry that she never once flinched from owning up to me as hers. +I've seen the color steal to her eyes when I appeared in my rough +clothes, but she'd slip her hand into mine, for all the world as though +she were protecting me, cling tight to it, and introduce me to her +friends. The girls and teachers loved her, or she couldn't have got away +with it. Her friends were among the best at college. Oh, she'll marry to +please me. Even if she didn't want to, she'd do it to give Peg a chance; +she's crazy about her, but I know her, she won't go back on her old Dad. +Besides, Courtlandt, I have a firm conviction that a person can put +through any worthy thing on which he is determined. How else do you +account for the seeming miracles men got away with in the World War? The +test is, how much do you want it? I've gone on that principle all my +life, and it's worked, I tell you, it's worked!" + +He waved away the box of cigars Courtlandt offered and pulled a +vicious-looking specimen of the weed from his pocket. He stuck it +between his teeth before he resumed: + +"After I left the coal-mines I beat it to Texas, got an option on land +there and began to make my pile in the oil-fields. I worked like a slave +days and studied nights. I didn't mean to give Jerry cause to be ashamed +of her Dad when she did land. Then I set my lawyer to looking up the +affairs of the Courtlandt family. I found that you had a boy, handsome, +upstanding and decent. I had him well watched, I assure you. I wasn't +throwing Jerry away on a regular guy even if I was stuck on your +family. I found also that your money was getting scarcer than hen's +teeth. I took the mortgage on this house, on every piece of property in +your estate. I knew when the boy chucked his law course and went into +the army. I had him watched while he was overseas and I know that he +came through that seething furnace of temptation straight. On the day +your boy marries my girl and brings her to this house to live I'll turn +your property over to you free and clear. It is in fine condition and +will give you a handsome income. It won't be sufficient for you and the +young people to live as I want to see them, but I'll take care of that. +You've known me now for three months. You know that I'm absolutely on +the level in my business dealings. What say?" + +Courtlandt rose impetuously and stood with his back to the fire, one arm +resting on the carved mantel. + +"Good Lord, man, I'm not the one to say. It isn't my life that's being +tied up. This property can go to the----" he stopped, and looked about +the beautiful room. He stared for a moment at the portrait of a +seventeenth century Courtlandt which hung opposite, then up at the +beautiful face of the woman in the painting set like a jewel in the dark +paneling above the mantel. Her eyes looked back at him, gravely, +searchingly. His voice was husky as he added quickly, "I'll talk with +Steve to-night and if he----" + +Glamorgan nodded approvingly. + +"I'm glad you named him Stephen. It was Stephanus Courtlandt whose +estate was erected into the lordship and manor of Courtlandt by William +the third, wasn't it? You see I know your family history backward. I +never buy a pig in a poke," with rough frankness. He rose and stretched +to his great height. The man watching him thought of the Russian bear +which had roused and shaken himself with such tragic results. "Why don't +you and Steve run in town to-night and have supper with Jerry and me +after the theatre?" + +"Thank you; if Steve has no engagement we will." + +Glamorgan thrust his hands deep into his pockets and glowered at the man +by the mantel. + +"I'll leave you now to deal with him. You might mention to Steve the +fact that if he refuses my offer I foreclose within forty-eight hours." + +The blood rushed to Courtlandt's face as though it would burst through +the thin, ivory skin. He touched a bell, his voice was cold with +repression as he answered the threat: + +"I'll talk with Stephen this evening. Judson, Mr. Glamorgan's coat," to +the smooth-haired, smooth-faced, smooth-footed butler who answered the +ring. + +The big man paused a moment, his little green eyes flames of suspicion. + +"You'll let me hear from you to-morrow? No shilly-shallying, mind. A +straight 'Yes' or 'No.'" + +"A straight 'Yes' or 'No' to-morrow it is, Glamorgan. Good-night! +Judson, when Mr. Stephen comes in ask him to come to me here." + +After his guest had departed Courtlandt snapped off the lights and +plunged the room in darkness save for the soft glow from the blazing +logs. He sank into a wing-chair before the fire and rested his head on +his thin hand. What a mess he had made of things. He had lost his +inheritance, not through extravagance, but because he had not been +enough of a business man to steer his financial ship clear of reefs +during the last years of swiftly shifting values. To have the Courtlandt +property swept away! It was impossible. He didn't care for himself but +for Steve and Steve's children. He was a liar! He did care for himself. +It would break his heart to have this old home, which had been the +manor, fall into the hands of an erstwhile coal-picker. The town house +was different. The location of that had followed the trail of fashion, +it had no traditions, but this----He rose and paced the floor then +returned to his old place before the mantel and listened. There was the +sound of whistling in the hall, virile, tuneful, the sort that brings a +smile to the lips of the most sophisticated. "The Whistling Lieut.!" +Courtlandt remembered Steve had been called in the army. He dropped his +head to his extended arm and stared unseeingly down at the flames. What +would he say----? + +"Holloa, Sir Peter! Fire-worshiping?" a clear voice called buoyantly. +"You're as dark in here as though you expected an air-raid. Let's light +up and be cheerio, what say?" The speaker pressed a button and flooded +the room with soft light. "Judson said you wanted me. Shall I stay now +or come back when I've changed?" + +Courtlandt senior straightened and looked at his son with the appraising +eyes of a stranger. He admitted to himself regretfully that the boy +looked older than his twenty-seven years. He was tall and lean and +lithe, not an ounce of superfluous flesh on him. He stood with his feet +slightly apart, a golf-bag dragging from one arm, his other hand in his +coat pocket. His black hair had a rebellious kink, his eyes were dark +blue, his nose clean-cut, his lips and chin hinted at a somewhat +formidable strength of purpose. Courtlandt's courage oozed as he +regarded those last features. + +"I--I merely wanted to ask you to give me this evening, Steve. +I--I--well, there's business to be talked over." + +The son looked back at his father. A slight frown wrinkled his broad +forehead. He started to speak, then lifted the golf-bag and went toward +the door. + +"The evening is yours, Sir Peter." + +His father listened till his whistle trailed off into silence in the +upper regions. His dark eyes clouded with regret. Steve had adapted his +selection to dirge tempo. + +As father and son smoked and drank their coffee in front of the library +fire after dinner, Peter Courtlandt found it even more difficult to +approach the distasteful subject. He talked nervously of politics, labor +conditions and the latest play. His son watched him keenly through +narrowed lids. He emptied and filled his pipe thoughtfully as he waited +for a break in his father's flood of words. When it came he dashed in. + +"What's the business you wanted to talk with me about, Sir Peter? Fire +away and let's get it over. Anything wrong?" + +The elder man bent forward to knock the ashes from his cigar. The +gravity of Steve's "Sir Peter" had moved him curiously. It was the name +his wife had called him, which the boy had adopted when he was too +grown-up to say "Daddy." Silent seconds lengthened into minutes as he +sat there. The quiet of the room was subtly portentous. There was a hint +of unsteadiness in his voice when he finally spoke. + +"It's all wrong, Steve. Everything we have is mortgaged to the +gunwales." + +"But I thought----" The end of the sentence was submerged in stunned +amazement. + +"That we couldn't go broke? Well, we have. We lose everything we have +to-morrow unless----" He dropped his head on his hand. + +"Unless what?" prompted Steve. + +Courtlandt leaned his white head against the back of his chair and +looked at his son with haggard eyes. His voice was strained, humiliated. + +"Unless--unless you marry Glamorgan's daughter." + +"What!" + +The exclamation brought Steve Courtlandt to his feet. The color surged +to his dark hair then ebbed slowly back again. His lips whitened. + +"Look here, Sir Peter, you don't know what you're saying! You've +forgotten that we are living in the twentieth century. Marry Glamorgan's +daughter! I've never seen her. I didn't know the old piker had a +daughter. What does he know about me? I've never spoken to him more +than twice and then when I couldn't help it. I don't like him, +he's----" + +"Sit down, Steve. Stop raging up and down the room. I want to tell you +all about it." + +The younger man flung the cigarette he had just lighted into the red +coals and dropped into a chair. He kept his eyes on the fading, flaring +lights of the fire as his father told of his interview with Glamorgan. +The muscles of his jaw tightened, his blue eyes smoldered as he +listened. + +"What sort of a girl would let herself be traded like that?" he demanded +when his father paused. + +"That is for you to find out, Steve. I started to have Judson turn the +Welshman out of the house after he made his astounding proposition, to +tell him to go to the devil--then I thought of you. That I had no right +to fling away your inheritance without giving you a voice in the matter. +The Courtlandts have held some of the property since the first of the +family came from Holland in the seven----" + +"Oh, I know all about those old boys; it is what their descendant is up +against that's worrying me. Have you tried Uncle Nick?" + +The slow color tinged Peter Courtlandt's face. + +"Yes. I've appealed to Nicholas Fairfax twice. But you know as well as I +that he has never forgiven your mother and me for not letting him have +you six months out of every year. He contended that as you, the only son +of his sister, were to be his heir, he should have an equal share in +bringing you up. Your mother and I couldn't see it that way and so----" + +"But I spent every summer there until I went overseas--and, oh boy, how +I worked. While my pals were vacationing I was ranching, and ranching +under Old Nick is no vacation. I'm as capable of running the Double O +now as Ranlett is. Lord, the nights I've come in so stiff that I'd fall +on the bed with my boots on. I'd got to shoot and rope, ride and +round-up, drive a tractor, know the difference in the quality of the +wheat-seed and the grades of cattle. Nick wasn't contented with my doing +things as well as his outfit, I'd got to go them one better. But I loved +the life and I'll confess that I love Old Nick in spite of his fool +ideas." + +"I'll try him once more, Steve--but----" + +"I'll be darned if you will. Isn't there some other way we can raise +money until I----" + +"My boy, what can you do? What can you earn at present? You finished +your law course after you came out of the army, but it will be several +years, as times are now, before you can more than support yourself." + +"You don't think I'd touch a penny of the old coal-picker's money even +if I married the daughter, do you?" interrupted Steve furiously. "I'd +break stones in the road first. Look here, be honest now, what would you +do if we lost this place?" + +"Blow my brains out," with passionate impulsiveness; then as he saw his +son's face whiten and his jaw set, he realized the effect of his words. +"No, no, Steve, of course I didn't mean that. The Courtlandts have never +been quitters. I swear I wouldn't break the record. Forget that +sob-stuff. You and I would go somewhere together and I--perhaps I'll +keep younger if I have less leisure." + +"When are you to give Glamorgan his answer?" Steve seemed the elder of +the two now, seemed to have taken the reins into his hands. + +"To-morrow." + +"To-morrow! Before the girl sees me? Before she has been given a chance +to decide whether the encumbrance which goes with the name and social +position is worth her thirty pieces of silver?" + +"Try not to be bitter, Steve. Remember that when a big man has an +obsession it's in proportion to his bigness, and you'll have to admit +that Glamorgan's a giant in his world. You have a chance to see the girl +before to-morrow. Her father suggested that we run in for supper with +them to-night after the theatre. I have a feeling that the daughter is +willing to sacrifice herself to make the great dream of her father's +life come true, just as you are willing to sacrifice yourself for +me--no, don't deny it,"--as his son impetuously opened his lips. "I +haven't lived with you for twenty-seven years without knowing some of +your mental processes, my boy. If it were only myself I'd tell Glamorgan +to go to the devil, but the property will be yours after me and your +children----" + +Steve interrupted with a short laugh. + +"My children! It's going some to make a mess of my life for prospective +children. Take it from me, they'll keep on playing with the angels for +some time yet." + +"Then don't make a mess of your life. Is--is there any other girl? Are +you in love, Steve?" + +His son thrust his hands hard into the pockets of his dinner coat. + +"I've never been swept off my feet at the sight of a girl's face, if you +mean that according-to-fiction stuff. Before I went across I thought +Felice Peyton----" + +"Felice! But she married Phil Denbigh while you were away and now----" +He stopped in perturbed realization of what had happened. + +"And now they've separated and Felice is cynical and hard. I know that. +I never really approved of her in my heart, her ideas, her ideals--oh +well, she hasn't any; she wouldn't recognize an ideal if it tapped her +on the shoulder. Her plan of life wasn't mine, but somehow I was +eternally tagging after her. Moth and candle stuff, I suppose." + +Courtlandt stared into the fire for a moment before he raised his head +and looked at his son. + +"We won't go on with this, Steve. It's taking too many chances. I'll +tell Glamorgan in the morning that he can foreclose and be----" + +"No you won't, at least not until we have met the daughter. Have +you ever seen her?" then as his father shook his head, "I'll give +you a close-up of the lady. Amazon variety--look at the size of +Glamorgan--little eyes, prominent teeth, a laugh that would raise the +dead and, oh boy,--I'll bet she's kittenish." He glanced at the tall +clock in the corner. "I'll tell Judson to have the sedan brought round. +We'll have just time to array ourselves for the sacrifice, and motor to +town before the theatres are out." + +As the older man's eyes, turbulent with affection and anxiety met his, +he exclaimed with a sporting attempt at a laugh: + +"I'll bet a hat, sir, that when the lady sees you nothing short of being +the Mrs. Courtlandt will satisfy her soaring ambition. She won't stand +for being merely Mrs. Stephen. By the way, what's the prospect's name?" + +"Geraldine. Her father calls her Jerry." Courtlandt senior laughed for +the first time that evening. "That's a great idea of yours, Steve. I +hadn't thought of offering myself. Perhaps as she only wants the name +and position she'd take me and let you off. Your mother would +understand," with a tender smile at the woman over the mantel. Her +lovely eyes seemed to answer his. For an instant a look of unutterable +yearning saddened the man's eyes--then he straightened and looked at his +son. + +"But no, Glamorgan expressly stipulated that he'd have you for a +son-in-law or----" + +The light died out of Stephen Courtlandt's face as he muttered furiously +under his breath: + +"Glamorgan be hanged!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The telephone in the luxurious living-room of their suite rang sharply +as Daniel Glamorgan and his daughter entered. The girl looked at the +instrument as though she suspected a concealed bomb in its mysterious +depths, then appealingly at her father. He took down the receiver. + +"Yes. All right. Send them up." He replaced it with a click. His grim +mouth softened into a self-congratulatory smile. "Courtlandt and his son +are down-stairs," he announced. "Did you order supper, Jerry?" + +"Yes, Dad. The table is laid in the breakfast-room. Leon will serve it +when you ring. I'll--I'll go to my room and leave my wrap." + +His green eyes dilated with pride as he regarded her. + +"You look like a princess to-night, my girl." + +"I feel like a princess. They're usually disposed of to a title or some +little thing like that, aren't they?" she asked with a laugh which held +a sob of terror. + +"Look here, Jerry. You're not losing your nerve? You're not going back +on me, are you?" + +She met his eyes squarely. + +"I am not, Dad. The fewer ancestors one has behind one the better +ancestor one must make of oneself. When I make a promise I make it to +keep. I promised you that if Stephen Courtlandt asked me to marry him +I'd say 'Yes.'" + +Glamorgan's eyes glistened with satisfaction. + +"You have the right idea, Jerry. Here they are now," as the bell rang. + +"You meet them. I'll take off my wrap--I'll----" In sudden panic the +girl entered her room and closed the door behind her. She leaned against +it. Her heart beat like mad. In the process of making the dream of her +father's life come true was she wrecking her own life? But he had been +such a wonderful father--and--to be honest with herself, the romance and +tradition and social standing of the Courtlandt name made an alluring +appeal to her. She had envied friends at school and college for their +careless references to their grandfathers; her earliest recollection was +of a room full of hot, grimy miners in a little home near the +coal-fields. To marry into the Courtlandt family in America would be +commensurate with marrying into a dukedom in England. She breathed a +fervent prayer of thanksgiving that her father's ambition hadn't urged +him in that direction, also that character had counted with him before +social position when he selected his prospective son-in-law. + +Her shimmering wrap dropped to the floor as she crossed to her +dressing-table and gravely appraised her reflection in the mirror. Was +the girl staring so intently back at her fitted to preside over the +Courtlandt Manor? She tested every detail of her appearance. Her orchid +evening gown set off her arms and the curves of her white shoulders to +perfection. Her hair was of glistening brown, brown shot through with +red and gold where its soft waves caught the light. Her eyes were brown, +large and dark and velvety, like deep pools reflecting a myriad tiny +gold stars now when she was deeply moved and excited. Her mouth seemed +fashioned for laughter. The lips were vivid and exquisitely curved, and +when they smiled a deep dimple dented one cheek. Her ringless hands were +slender and beautifully formed. + +"Dad says that you have Mother to thank for your hands," she told the +looking-glass girl. She lingered before the mirror, aimlessly moving the +gold and enameled appointments on the dressing-table. She dreaded to +enter the next room. Her life might be changed for all time, doubtless +would be, for she would marry Stephen Courtlandt if he wanted to save +his estate enough to take her on her own conditions. She flushed then +whitened. Perhaps he wouldn't want her after all. Well, that would soon +be settled. Better to have the awkward meeting over as soon as possible. +She picked up a large feather fan that was a shade deeper than her gown. +As she touched it she felt armed for any contingency, and not without +reason, for a fan in the hands of a beautiful woman is as effective as a +machine-gun directed by an expert rifleman. Jerry swept her vis-a-vis a +profound courtesy. + +"I'll say you'll do, Mrs. Stephen Courtlandt," she encouraged with gay +inelegance. The laugh still lingered on her lips and lurked in her eyes +as she entered the living-room. + +The three men who had been looking into the fire turned. The girl's +heart went out to the elder Courtlandt in a rush of sympathy. His head +was so high, his face so white, his eyes so full of hurt pride. The +younger man's face was quite as white, his head quite as high, but there +was an aggressive set to lips and jaw, a mixture of amazement and +antagonism in his eyes, then something else flamed there which she +couldn't diagnose as easily. + +"He looks stunned. What did he expect, the pig-faced lady?" the girl +thought contemptuously even as she advanced with extended hand and +smiled up at the elder Courtlandt. + +"Mr. Courtlandt, you seem like an old friend, my father has spoken of +you so often," she welcomed in her charming, well-bred voice which had a +curiously stimulating lilt in it. + +The color rushed back to Peter Courtlandt's face, the expression in his +eyes changed to one of relief and honest admiration as he bent over her +hand. + +"I realize now how much I have lost in not accepting your father's +invitation to call before. Will you permit me to present my son, +Stephen?" + +Jerry crushed down an hysterical desire to laugh. It was so ridiculous, +the casual, pleased-to-meet-you attitude of the three persons whom her +father was moving at his will about the checker-board of life. She +murmured something in which the words "a pleasure" were alone audible. +Steve acknowledged them stiffly. Her eyes met his with their faint +scornful smile which she felt masked so much. They held hers for a +second before she turned to her father. + +"Shall we go out to supper?" With engaging camaraderie she slipped her +hand under Peter Courtlandt's arm. The expression of his eyes when they +had first met hers had won her tender heart. "We'll let the younger set +follow us," she laughed. He shook his head. + +"I defy Steve to feel as young as I feel now," he asserted with a +gallant promptness which delighted her. + +At supper she devoted herself to him. He laughed and jested with her and +but for his white hair looked almost as young as his son. Steve, angered +by her persistent avoidance of himself, broke into their conversation +with a banality which caused his father to look at him in amazed +incredulity. + +"Are you enjoying New York, Miss Glamorgan?" + +Jerry regarded him for a moment from under long lashes before, with a +smile which she was sure made him want to shake her, she answered: + +"Immensely; but this is not my first winter in the city. Dad and I have +made our headquarters here since I grew up." She turned to his father, +but Steve refused to be ignored. + +"Do you like it?" + +"Like it? I love it! It's so big, so beautiful and--and--and so faulty," +her pose of indifference had fallen from her like a discarded veil; she +was all eager enthusiasm. "I--I like to be where there are many people. +I would starve for companionship, not food, in the wilderness." Steve +raised his brows and smiled unsmilingly. + +"Then you believe in love?" + +The color burned over her face to her scornful eyes. "He is willing to +marry for money yet he dares sneer at me about love," she thought +angrily, even as she looked up and deliberately studied him. She +laughed a gay little, mocking laugh. + +"Believe in love? Of course I believe in love; don't you? But what an +absurd question to ask. As though you would champion the tender +passion." She saw his eyes darken and his jaw set before she turned to +his father. She was contrite, a little frightened. What had possessed +her to antagonize him like that? A poor way to begin a partnership which +she had hoped would develop into a real friendship. + +"Jerry, take Steve into the living-room and give us some music. Mr. +Courtlandt and I will smoke here," commanded Glamorgan, as his servant, +who fairly exuded efficiency, passed cigars and cigarettes. + +"Perhaps--perhaps he would prefer to stay here and smoke," the girl +suggested hurriedly, for the first time losing her poise. She caught a +glint of challenge in Stephen's eyes and rose. Her color was high, her +breath a bit uneven as she smiled at him with bewildering charm. "After +all, why should I make suggestions? You are quite old enough to decide +what you want to do yourself, aren't you?" + +"Yes. Quite old enough and quite ready to decide for myself," he +answered as he stood aside for her to precede him into the living-room. +"Do you play or sing?" he asked as he followed her to the piano. The +instrument looked as though it were loved and used. It was her turn to +be a trifle scornful. + +"I play and sing. Does it seem incredible that I should?" She seated +herself and dropped her hands in her lap. "Shall I play for you?" + +"Please." He leaned his arms on the piano and looked down at her, but +she realized that his thoughts were not following his eyes. "I am not in +the least musical, but we had a chap in our company overseas who could +make the most shell-shocked instrument give out what seemed to us in the +midst of that thundering inferno, heavenly music. Sometimes now a wave +of longing for the sound of a piano sweeps over me, played by someone +who loves music as that boy loved it. Do you know--Schumann's +'Papillions'? That was one of his favorites." + +For answer she played the first bar of the exquisite thing. Once she +glanced up. The eyes of the man leaning on the piano, not blue now, but +dark with memories, were an ocean removed from her. It was a minute +after the last note was struck before they came back to her face. He +drew a long breath. + +"Thank you," he said simply, but his tone was better than a paean of +praise. Then the softness left his eyes. There was aggressiveness and a +hint of irony in his voice as he said stiffly: + +"My--my father has given me to understand that you will do me the honor +to marry me." + +A passion of anger shook the girl. She valiantly forced back the tears +which threatened, rose and faced him defiantly. Her slender fingers +smoothed out the long plumes of her fan. There should be no subterfuge +now, she determined, no cause for recrimination later. + +"Your father, doubtless, has told you also that my father is willing to +buy your name and social position for me with a portion of his fortune. +A sort of fifty-fifty arrangement, isn't it?" she added flippantly, with +the faintest flicker of her bronze-tipped lashes. Courtlandt shrugged. + +"If you wish to put it so crudely." + +She took a step back and clenched her hands behind her. Her beautiful +eyes were brilliant with scorn, her heart pounded. It seemed as though +it must visibly shake her slender body as she answered: + +"Why not? If we speak the truth now it may save complications later. You +know that my father wants me to marry you and--and why. I frankly +confess that I sympathize with his ambitions. I want the best of life in +my associations. Your father is in difficulties of one sort--my father +is in difficulties of another sort--if a lack of family background can +be called a difficulty--and it appears that with our help they can +accommodate one another. I'd do anything for Dad--he has done so much +for me." She set her teeth sharply in her under lip to steady it. + +"Then--then you are not afraid to marry without love?" His eyes were +inscrutable. + +"Without love? For the man I marry? No, not as long as I have no love +for any other. I might love a man when I married him, and then--love +comes unbidden, oftentimes unwanted and pouf!--it goes the way it came, +and no one can stop it. You know that yourself." + +"Not if it is real love, the love of a man for the one woman," he +defended. + +"Is there such a thing? I wonder?" skeptically. + +If he felt a temptation to retaliate he resisted it. + +"Then I may conclude that you accept me?" he prompted with frigid +courtesy. + +"Yes, that is----" a nervous sob caught at her voice. "If--if you will +agree to my conditions. Dad has promised me an income of a hundred +thousand a year. I will keep half of it in my possession, the other half +you are to have to use as you please." + +Courtlandt's eyes were black with anger, his knuckles white. He was +rough, direct, relentless as he answered: + +"You are indeed determined to make this a business affair. But +understand now that I won't touch one cent of your cursed money. +Whatever arrangement your father wants to make with you and my father is +his affair and yours, but you are to leave me out of it absolutely. +That's my condition. Do you get it?" + +"Yes, I get it." She colored richly, angrily, then paled. Even her lips +went white. "There is one thing more. I--we--this marriage is really a +bargain--money for social position. Let it be only that. Need there be +anything else? You must understand me--you must," in passionate appeal. +She laid her hand on his arm. He looked down at her with disconcerting +steadiness. His face was stern. + +"Yes, I understand. You mean a marriage stripped to its skeleton of +legal terms. No mutual responsibilities, no mutual sacrifices, no--no +love. That is for you to decide. The Courtlandt debt is far too great +for me not to accept any terms you may dictate. It shall be as you wish, +I--promise." + +Her brown eyes were brilliant with unshed tears as she held out an +impulsive hand. + +"Thank you. You make the arrangements seem bleak and sordid, but you +have given me back my self-respect. Now I feel that it is an honorable +bargain between us two. You are to be perfectly free to come and go as +you like, and I shall be free, too--but there is one thing I promise +you, I--I shall never harm the name I take." + +He looked down at the hand he held for an instant then released it. + +"I knew that when you came into the room to-night. Will you marry me +soon?" + +"Whenever you like. Will you--say good-night to your father for me? +I----" With a valiant effort to steady her lips, she smiled faintly, +opened the door of her room and closed it quickly behind her. + +Peter Courtlandt was the first to break the silence as father and son +motored home. He made an effort to speak lightly. + +"Well, my boy, your close-up was wrong. Geraldine Glamorgan has neither +prominent teeth, nor little eyes, nor a kittenish manner; in fact, I +don't know when I have seen so beautiful a girl so singularly free from +the barnacles of vanity and self-consciousness." + +"Kittenish!" his son repeated curtly. "She's far from kittenish. She's +an iceberg, and what's more she has the business instinct developed to +the nth degree. Believe me, she's a born trader." + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Geraldine Courtlandt slowed down her car to enter the river road. The +sun was setting in a blaze of crimson glory, a few belated birds winged +swiftly into the west. Lights on the opposite shore flickered for a +moment as they flashed into being, then shone with steady brilliancy. +Lights appeared on the few boats swinging at anchor in the quiet water. +Lights in house windows beaconed a steady welcome to home-comers. What +individuality there was in lights the girl thought. Those across the +river seemed entirely municipal and commercial, those on the boats +carried a silent warning, those in the windows seemed warmly human. + +The turmoil in Jerry's heart subsided. She had driven miles that +afternoon through the cold, exhilarating rush of December air, trying to +forget Steve's tone when he had refused her offer to drive him to town +that morning. Had she been married only a month? It seemed as though +centuries had passed since she and Steve had stood before the altar with +their few witnesses and exchanged marriage vows. She shivered. If she +had realized how irrevocable they were, their solemn admonition, would +she have had the courage to marry to please her father, she wondered. + +"And forsaking all others keep thee only unto him as long as ye both +shall live?" The question had echoed in every sound at the wedding +breakfast in her father's apartment; she had read it deep in Peggy's +eyes as they had met hers from across the room; it had kept time to the +revolution of the wheels as she and Steve had motored out to the Manor +in the late afternoon. Her lips twisted in a bitter little smile as she +remembered Sir Peter's tactful suppression of surprise when they had +told him that there would be no wedding journey. She and Steve had +decided that under the circumstances such a function would be nothing +short of farcical, besides he would not ask for leave from the office. +Sir Peter had quite suddenly decided to go on a hunting trip. + +The girl's brows wrinkled in a troubled frown. She knew now that she had +done a grave injustice to Steve, to herself, when she had consented to +her father's proposition. Well, the deed was done, her only course was +to turn her mistake into a stepping-stone toward ultimate good. That was +the one way to treat mistakes remedially, she had learned in her +twenty-three years. Repining proved nothing. + +"Every engaged couple ought to have the marriage service read aloud to +them at least once a week. That would give them pause," she murmured +with fervent conviction. She ground on her brake just in time to avoid +running down a "ROAD CLOSED. DETOUR" sign. The black letters on the +white board danced weirdly before her eyes for a moment. She must cure +herself of the reprehensible habit of driving with her mind miles away. +She turned into the side road and drove slowly. Detours were notoriously +rough even if they sometimes offered adventure, she thought whimsically. + +The upper windows of the Manor reflected the setting sun through +swaying, bare branches. They shone like molten mirrors as Jerry turned +into the tree-lined avenue which led to the house. At the foot of the +garden slope she caught the shimmer of the river. Already she loved the +place. The great house had "home" writ large all over it. It bulged, it +loomed, it rambled in unexpected places as though it had grown with the +family. And yet, in spite of the additions, it remained a choice example +of early architecture. It was as though a beneficent fairy, versed in +the arts, had presided over the alterations. + +As the girl entered the great hall, where logs blazed in the mammoth +fireplace, she had the sense of being enfolded in warm, tender arms. If +Steve would not be so frigidly courteous she could be quite happy, she +thought resentfully. At breakfast each morning during these interminable +weeks he had politely asked her preference for the evening. Should they +motor to town for the theatre, dance, what should they do? And she, +dreading to bore him more than he was already bored, and hating to face +the curious eyes of his world which had been set agog at their marriage, +had replied to each suggestion: + +"I prefer to remain in this lovely country, but please go yourself. I +really shouldn't be in the least lonely." + +He had refused to take advantage of her suggestion. Every night they +dined together with great formality, she in the loveliest frocks of her +hastily assembled trousseau, he in correct and immaculate dinner +clothes. The only time there seemed the least sympathy between them was +when she was at the piano, in the library, and Steve smoked in the big +chair in front of the fire. He kept so absolutely still, usually with +his eyes on his mother's portrait. Was he dreaming dreams, she wondered. +Had there been a girl without money whom he loved? Did he know what "the +love of a man for the one woman" meant? She should never forget the tone +in which he had asked that question. She was standing in the hall, her +coat off, when she thought of that. She shook herself mentally and +dragged her thoughts back to the present. She spoke to her trim maid who +came to take her coat: + +"Tell Judson to serve tea in the library, Hilda. I--I'm cold." + +She was half-way to the fireplace in the long room before she discovered +that the wing-chair in front of it was occupied, occupied by a queer, +elfish type of man who regarded her with a poorly suppressed snort of +disdain as she paused in surprise. The skin stretched over his high +cheek-bones till it shone like mellowing, yellowing ivory. His colorless +eyes glittered as with fever, his forehead reared to where his coarse +white hair brandished a sort of kewpie-curl. A black cape, of wool so +soft that it looked like velvet, lay across his thin, stooped shoulders. +From under its folds his hands protruded, clasped on the top of a stout +ebony stick. They were gnarled and distorted with rheumatism. His voice, +true to type, was high and slightly cracked as he spoke to the girl +after an instant of peeved scrutiny. + +"So--you're the new Mrs. Courtlandt, the lady of the Manor, are you? +You're the girl who has been traded in to save the family fortune?" + +The angry color flamed to Jerry's hair but she stood her ground. She +even managed to bestow a patronizing frown upon him. + +"Now I know who you are. No one but 'Old Nick' would be so rude. You +see your reputation has preceded you." She sank into the chair opposite +him and with elbow on its arm, chin on her hand, regarded him curiously. +She made a brilliant bit of color in the dark-toned room. The light from +the fire fell on her rose-color sports suit, brought out the sheen of +the velvet tam of the same shade, drooped picturesquely over one ear, +flickered fantastically on her white throat, set the diamonds in the pin +which fastened the dainty frills of her blouse agleam with rainbows and +played mad pranks with the circlet of jewels on the third finger of her +left hand. + +How ill and fragile he looked, the girl thought, pathetically fragile. +She had a passion of sympathy for the old. She would ignore his +rudeness. She leaned forward and smiled at him with gay friendliness. + +"Now that I have guessed who you are it's your turn. Tell me how you got +here. Did a magician wave his wand, and presto, an enchanted carpet, or +did you arrive via air-route? I am sorry that there was no one at the +Manor to welcome you. I was detained by one of those silly detours. Sir +Peter has been away but returns to-night, and Steve--did Steve know that +you were coming? Did--did he write you about--about me?" the last word +was added in an undignified whisper. + +"Steve! Do they ever let Steve tell me anything?" + +"Now I've done it, he's off!" Jerry thought with an hysterical desire to +laugh, he was so like an old war-horse scenting battle. + +"No. The first I knew of you was when Peter Courtlandt wrote that a +marriage had been arranged between the daughter of Glamorgan, the +oil-king, and Steve. Arranged! Stuff and nonsense! What poor fool +arranged it, I'd like to know? Hasn't Peter Courtlandt seen enough of +life to know that when a man who has nothing marries a girl with a large +fortune he's ruined? If he has any strength of character it turns to +gall, if he's a weak party, he gets weaker--it's hell--for a proud man. +Why didn't they give me a chance to save the family fortune? I'd have +done it if Steve had asked me, but I turned his father down--I wouldn't +give a penny to save him. Why--why that boy ought to have married +someone who'd count, not a once-removed coal-picker." + +Furious as she was at his insult, Jerry kept her temper. It was so +pathetically evident that he was old and disappointed and alarmingly +ill. However, there was a hint of Glamorgan's determination in her eyes +as she answered coolly: + +"You may say what you like about me, but I can't let you disparage my +father. He is the biggest thing in my life. After all, why should you +roar at me? Steve and I are not the first victims sacrificed on the +altar of pride of family and possessions, are we? Sentiment is quite out +of fashion. What passes for it is but a wan survival of the age of +romance and chivalry. Marriage in that strata of society to which I have +been lately elevated is like the Paul Jones at a dance, when the whistle +blows change partners--in the same set, if one should happen to go out +of it, pandemonium, quickly followed by oblivion." + +If he was conscious of the sting of sarcasm in her words he ignored it. +His voice was barbed with thorns of irritation as he affirmed: + +"Then it is as I suspected; you're not in love with Steve. So love is +out of fashion, is it? To be scornful of love is the prerogative of +youth; when we get old we treasure it. Well, I warn you now, young +woman, that my nephew shan't live the loveless life I've lived. I was +born rich. Had I been poor and married, had my wife been my working +partner dependent upon me for money, helping me climb, I shouldn't be +the wreck of a man I am now." + +"What a pre-nineteenth amendment sentiment," the girl dared +mischievously. He glowered at her from under his bushy brows. + +"You can't switch me off my subject with your flippancy. I repeat, +Steve shall have love. I'll get it for him--I'll----" He rose and +brandished his stick at the girl. He fell back and leaned his head +weakly against the chair. Jerry leaned over him and smoothed back his +hair tenderly. He looked up at her with fever-bright eyes and gasped +breathlessly: + +"I haven't gone--yet. I shan't go till--I've thought of some way to--to +yank Steve out of this--this damnable Sam Jones ring you talk about. +Give me some tea. Quick! Give it to me--strong. My fool doctor won't let +me have anything else. What's Steve doing? Living on your income?" he +asked as Judson, after fussing among the tea-things, at a low word from +the girl, left the room. + +Jerry's cheeks flushed, tiny sparks lighted her eyes as she countered +crisply: + +"Don't you know your nephew better than to ask that question? He is in a +lawyer's office working for the munificent sum of fifteen per." Fairfax +choked over his tea. + +"D'you mean to tell me that a son-in-law of Glamorgan the oil-king is an +office boy? Between you all you've made a mess of it, haven't you? What +does your father say to that?" + +"He's--he's furious," Jerry answered, as she studied the infinitesimal +grounds in her teacup. She gave the tea-cart a little push which removed +it from between them. She rose, hesitated, then slipped to her knees +before the old man. She looked up at him speculatively for a moment +before she commenced to trace an intricate pattern on his stout stick +with a pink-tipped finger. Her voice was low and a trifle unsteady as +she pleaded: + +"Uncle Nick, be friends with me, will you?" A non-committal grunt was +her only answer. "Steve won't talk to me. He won't listen to reason. +Having made his big sacrifice for the family fortunes by marrying me he +is holding his head so high that he'll step into a horrible shell-hole +if he doesn't watch out. Dad is furious that he won't live and spend +money as befits a Courtlandt, that is, as he thinks a Courtlandt should +live and spend, and with that fine illogic, so characteristic of the +male of the species, takes it out on me. Steve is so--so maddening. He +won't use the automobiles unless he is taking me somewhere, although +they were all, with the exception of my town car and roadster, in the +garage when I came here. He just commutes and commutes in those +miserable trains. Commuting corrupts good manners; he's a--a bear. He +and I are beginning all wrong, Uncle Nick." She met the stern old eyes +above her before she dropped her head to the arm of his chair. "Steve +hates the sight of me and I----" + +Fairfax laid his stick across her shoulders with a suddenness and +strength, which, made her jump. + +"What did you expect? Didn't I tell you that when a poor man marries a +fortune his pride turns to gall? Can a red-blooded man really love a +girl who would marry for position? You're fast getting to hate him, I +suppose?" he demanded in a tone which brought her to her feet and iced +her voice and eyes. + +"You wouldn't expect me to be crazy about him, would you? He is cold and +disagreeable and is evidently laboring under the delusion that the world +was created to revolve around Stephen Courtlandt." A contemptuous snort +fired her with the determination to hurt someone or something. "You may +take it from me that if I had the chance to choose again between +disappointing Dad or marrying your precious nephew I'd--I'd disappoint +Dad." She was breathless but triumphant as she flung the last words at +him. He glared at her. + +"So-o, you're a quitter, are you?" + +Jerry's face was white, her eyes smoldering coals of wrath. Her voice +was low with repressed fury as she flung back his taunt. + +"I'm not a quitter. By why couldn't Dad have selected some other +aristocrat for a son-in-law? From what I have observed there are plenty +of them who need money. Believe me, I'm tired of living in this cold +storage atmosphere. I was willing to play fair, willing to keep my part +of the contract----" Her voice failed her as she met his grilling eyes. + +"Are you fulfilling your----" + +"What, Uncle Nick, tea-broken?" interrupted a voice from the door. The +old man struggled to his feet as his nephew came toward him. A smile of +tenderness dimmed the glitter of his eyes. Jerry's heart looped the +loop. How long had Steve been at the door? Had he heard that last +rebellious declaration of hers? How would he greet his uncle? She hoped +that he would be tender, for no matter how disagreeable Nicholas Fairfax +was, he was old and evidently dangerously ill. She was quite unconscious +of her breath of relief as the younger man laid an affectionate arm +about the elder's shoulders. + +"This sure is a surprise and then some, Uncle Nick. Why didn't you let +us know you were coming?" + +"I knew if I wrote, your father'd invent an excuse to put me off, so I +roped Doc Rand and came along. I have no time to waste. I wanted to see +the kind of girl they'd sold you to----" + +"Then you have seen a fine one who did me the honor to marry me, haven't +you?" There was a set to young Courtlandt's jaw which boded ill for the +person who differed with him. "Why not come up to your room and rest +before dinner? Sir Peter returns to-night and you'll want--here he is +now," as the hum of voices in the hall drifted to the library. + +Jerry sprang forward with a radiant smile of welcome as Peter Courtlandt +entered the room. He seized her two hands in his and kissed her +tenderly. + +"It's a good many years since I had a welcome home like this," he +admitted with a break in his voice. "How are you, Steve? Nick, I just +ran into Doc Rand in the hall. He told me that you were here." He held +out his hand to his brother-in-law who responded grudgingly. + +"I suppose he told you a lot of other stuff, too. Well, I'll fool him." + +Jerry gave the hand that still held one of hers a surreptitious squeeze. + +"It's good to have you back, Sir Peter. The house has seemed terribly +big and empty without you." + +"Empty!" echoed Fairfax with his sardonic chuckle. "Fancy a bride of a +month complaining of emptiness in a house without her father-in-law." + +"How does it happen that you have torn yourself away from the ranch, +Nick?" interrupted Peter Courtlandt before Steve, who had grown white +about the nostrils, could speak. "The last time you came on you said +you would never leave it again." + +Fairfax swallowed the bait which never failed to lure him. His western +possessions were his pride, and he welcomed an opportunity to talk of +them much as a fond parent does of his child. + +"Didn't want to leave. Felt it my duty to come and see what you had done +to Steve," he growled. "Greyson, of the X Y Z, is looking after things +for me." + +"Greyson of the X Y Z! Is your ranch near his?" Jerry demanded. A faint +color stole to her face, her eyes were alight with interest. + +"It is. What do you know about it?" Fairfax's eyes were interrogation +points of suspicion. + +"Not much. I met Mr. Greyson last winter, and I----" + +"Met Greyson, did you? Humph! So that's what's the matter with him. I +suppose the daughter of an oil-king looked down upon----" + +"Have you had a profitable year?" interrupted Peter Courtlandt, adroitly +getting between his son and the old man. "They tell me that this has +been a banner season for wheat." + +"They told you right. If the cattle winter safe I shall achieve the +ambition of my life, to own the biggest and finest herd of Shorthorns in +the country. I'll show 'em a thing or two about that breed of cattle. I +tell you, Peter----" + +"Mrs. Denbigh," announced Judson at the door. + +Jerry caught the look of consternation which Peter Courtlandt threw at +his son. She saw also the sudden tightening of Steve's lips. What did it +mean? She had met Felice Denbigh once and had been repulsed by her +super-golden hair and super-perfect complexion. Was she an old +sweetheart of Steve's? She took a step toward the smartly gowned woman +who spoke as she crossed the threshold. + +"Mrs. Courtlandt, you will forgive me for this intrusion on your +honeymoon, won't you? But--but Steve left his gloves in my sedan this +morning when we drove to town, and I came to return them." + +Jerry's mind took a dizzy turn or two then settled down to clear +thinking. She had a curious sense that with the explanation Felice +Denbigh had fired the opening gun of a campaign. So there had been a +reason why Steve had refused to allow her to drive him to town. She +flashed a glance at him even while she murmured welcoming platitudes to +her guest. He had his hand on his uncle's arm. + +"You remember Felice Peyton, don't you, Uncle Nick?" + +"What's that? Felice Peyton, the girl you were forever running after +when you were in college? Well, Miss Peyton, you lost him, didn't you?" +asked the terrible old man. + +"But--but dear Mr. Fairfax, I'm not Miss Peyton now--I married Phil +Denbigh when Steve deserted me and went to war. I----" + +"Philip Denbigh!" The old man rose, straightened himself like an +avenging Nemesis. "Poor devil! So he drew another blank besides that +good-for-nothing philandering mother of his. A mother who wept and +begged until she kept the boy from enlisting, and by some hokuspokus got +him into Class C.--No, I won't stop," as Courtlandt senior laid a +peremptory hand on his arm. "There are a lot of men who are cringing +through life to-day because their women did not love them enough to +cheer them on to fight in the Great Fight." + +Felice Denbigh was white with anger, her eyes tiny green flames. Jerry +flung herself into the breach: + +"Won't you stay and dine with us informally, Mrs. Denbigh? Poor S-Steve +must have been bored to death, surfeited with my society this last +month." + +"Thank you, no." Felice's self-possession was superb. "I shall pay my +respects to the new Mrs. Courtlandt later when she is formally at home. +Good-night, Mr. Fairfax. What a pleasure it must be for the family to +have your genial presence at the Manor. You don't know how happy it +makes me to find that someone remembers Steve's devotion to me. He seems +to have forgotten it. Good-night, Sir Peter. Stevie, will you come and +start that cranky car of mine?" Then, as he reached her side, Jerry +heard her ask softly, "Shall we meet at the same place to-morrow +morning?" + +Nicholas Fairfax must have heard it also, for the girl heard him mutter: + +"Snake!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +As she served coffee in the library after dinner Jerry pondered over +those low-spoken words. The firelight set the sequins on her pale blue +gown glittering like jewels; it accentuated the satiny sheen of her +hair, betrayed the troubled expression in her lovely eyes. Nicholas +Fairfax was in his room. He had collapsed when he went up to dress for +dinner. Doctor Rand, whom he had brought with him, stood back to the +fire stirring his coffee. There was a suggestion of fat and wheeze about +the little man. His weather-stained face had the wrinkled effect of a +quite elderly, quite plump russet apple. His white hair bushed a la +Golliwog. His frock coat was of finest, pre-war broadcloth. The +flamboyant effect of his black necktie made the girl think of the bow on +the neck of a pet kitten. He tested his coffee before he observed dryly: + +"If a man with an under-developed heart-beat and an over-developed +blood-pressure will go chasing half-way across the continent to see a +pretty girl," he bowed with somewhat ponderous gallantry in Jerry's +direction, "what can you expect but collapse? He's crazy about you, +Steve, and somewhere he got the fool notion that you were unhappy. +That's what started him East. I tried to hold him back. I knew the price +he'd pay." + +Stephen Courtlandt came suddenly from the window where he had been +looking out upon the snow-dusted world. He approached the fire. His eyes +looked strained. + +"Then you think he won't rally from this attack, Doc?" he asked +anxiously. + +"It's better for you to know the truth, Steve. He knows. He's wired for +Greyson of the X Y Z and----" + +"Oh-h!" + +The startled exclamation had escaped Jerry's lips before she realized +that she had made a sound. A delicate pink stole to her hair as she met +Steve's steady eyes. Doctor Rand was apparently quite unconscious of the +interruption. + +"And sent for your family lawyer. Your father is with him now. I'll go +and relieve him. Your cookie sure makes good coffee, Mrs. Jerry. Bring +her out to the Double O and invite us old bachelors for eats once in a +while. You'd be doing a charity bigger than some you spend your time on +here, I can tell you." + +"Mrs. Courtlandt would starve for people in that wilderness, Doc," +announced Stephen with parrot-like glibness. + +"Would she now? Sure, she doesn't look like a child who'd be so +dependent on chatter. Well, the Double O isn't in the Dude ranch region, +neither is it exactly a wilderness. It's a seething cauldron of society +in comparison to some of the places. You knew that Old Nick and Greyson +had given the Bear Creek ranch to a returned service man, didn't you, +Steve?" then as Courtlandt nodded, "He brought a wife out last spring. +She doesn't have a woman to speak to but she reminds me of a +meadow-lark, little and quiet but with a voice that sings." + +"Do she and her husband live there all alone?" Jerry asked in wonder. + +"Yes--that is--there's a range-rider but--but that's another story." Had +she not thought it quite out of character Jerry would have sworn that +Doc Rand was embarrassed. "We--here I am talking when my patient needs +me. It's all your fault, Mrs. Jerry. You shouldn't have vamped me so +outrageously. Steve, I want a prescription filled." + +"I'll send Carter for it, Doc. Give it to me." He left the room with the +slip of paper in his hand. Rand looked after him, then thoughtfully at +the girl where she sat in the flickering light of the fire. He set his +cup on the tray and patted her hand gently. + +"Don't mind Old Nick, child. He's sick and jealous and--and mad about +Steve--it will all come right. Things have a marvelous unbelievable way +of coming right. That's what I kept telling Fairfax but he wouldn't +listen." + +"Why--why should he hate me so?" + +"He doesn't hate you, he's--he's just afraid for Steve, that's all. He +adored his sister--he used to say that when he found a woman like her, +he'd marry----" he looked up at the portrait over the mantel. Jerry's +glance followed his. The eyes, so like Steve's, were thoughtful, there +was a suspicion of laughter in the curve of the lips, the flesh tints +were marvelously lovely, a string of rare pearls gleamed softly on the +creamy neck. The artist had worked lovingly and had produced a portrait +that was humanly, warmly alive, a spirit that dominated the quiet room. + +"Steve,--Steve and Sir Peter love her like that too, do they not?" + +Rand thrust his hands under his coat tails and flapped them in time with +his heel and toe teeter. + +"Love her! It is more than love. Betty Fairfax, the name clung even +after marriage, makes me believe in immortality. The best of her is +living in Steve and it will be handed on to his children. Her spirit is +just as much alive for her husband and son as it was the day she left +them. That's why Steve has kept straight through temptations which would +have lured most chaps of his age. No one can ever tell me, and get +across with it, that a mother's influence doesn't live forever. That boy +is one of a thousand, isn't he, Mrs. Jerry?" + +"Oh--perhaps, as thousands go." She looked up from under her long lashes +at his discomfited face. Laughter gleamed through the tears which his +tribute to the mother had brought. "You shouldn't pry into the secrets +of a maiden's heart," she teased with exaggerated demureness. Rand +responded to her mood. + +"That's better. A child like you should laugh, not be as serious as +you've been ever since I've seen you. Don't let Nick's condition depress +you. He may live for weeks and when he does go, it will be a release. He +wants it--if--if he can go knowing that Steve's happiness is assured." + +"Is anyone's happiness assured?" asked the girl gravely. + +"No"--he regarded her with his twinkling gray eyes--"but I'll bet my +broncho if anyone's is--it's Steve's. Good-night." + +He was gone before Jerry could reply. Her heart felt curiously warmed by +his words. He--he evidently liked her if Steve didn't. She went to the +piano. Her fingers touched the keys experimentally for a moment, then +she quite unconsciously struck the opening bar of "Papillions." The +music danced and rose with dainty spontaneity. She drifted into Bach's +"Praeludium." Separated chords or flowing melody, she played with a +sympathy and sureness which showed the touch of an artist. She knew when +Steve came into the room and crossed to the window. As the last note +died away she turned. He stood with his hands clenched behind his back. +What was interesting him outside, she wondered. She wanted to speak to +him but she never yet had addressed him by his first name. It seemed +absurd, it was absurd, but she had avoided using it to his face. To +continue the avoidance presented difficulties now that his back was +turned. She usually waited until he looked at her, which she had to +acknowledge was seldom. She ran through the opening bars of "Papillions" +again but his back remained obdurately turned to the room. + +"I--you----" she halted awkwardly, "I would like to talk to you," she +admitted hesitatingly. Courtlandt wheeled and approached the piano. + +"Good Lord, don't you know my name that you have to juggle 'I--you----' +when you want to attract my attention?" he demanded belligerently. There +was a defiant gleam in the eyes which met his. + +"It does sound silly, doesn't it--Stevie?" with exaggerated demureness +and an exact imitation of Felice Denbigh's voice. "But--but I know yours +better than you know mine--I think----" then as he opened his lips to +speak she hurried on, "I wanted to ask if you were in love with Felice +Denbigh? No--no--don't mistake me," as his blue eyes darkened to +purple-black, and his lips tightened, "I'm not jealous--really I'm +not--I only wanted you to know that if you are, I'm sorry, terribly +sorry. It's a tragedy to love one person and have to marry another." + +"How do you know? Are you in love with Greyson?" with rough directness. + +His sudden turn of the tables took the girl's breath. She colored +betrayingly. She knew that she must be the picture of guilt as she stood +there, her color coming and going, her heart beating like a silly +tom-tom. There was even a slight unsteadiness in her voice as she +evaded: + +"I haven't seen Bruce Greyson since last winter," then maddened at her +own lack of poise she looked up with frank defiance. "It's a pity that +he doesn't live here. He could motor me to town." + +He flushed darkly. + +"My motoring to town with Mrs. Denbigh this morning was purely +accidental." + +"But--but--you will never go with me." + +"Trolley incomes should avoid limousine ladies." + +"Limousine ladies!" Jerry gripped her temper and controlled her voice. +"Pardon! My mistake," she drawled maddeningly. "Is--is Mrs. Denbigh +divorced?" + +"Not yet. What Old Nick said about Phil's mother was true. She did ruin +his life. It would have been better for him and for her had he been shot +to pieces, than to have him as he is now with this gnawing shame at his +heart." + +"She--she was not much like your mother, was she?" + +"Like Mother?" Jerry thought she had never heard anything so beautiful +as that word "Mother" as Courtlandt uttered it. He smiled up at the +portrait--"Mother was--well----" he cleared the huskiness from his voice +and went on, "As I was saying about Denbigh, remorse got too much for +him and a year ago he disappeared, dropped completely out of sight." + +"Why didn't Felice go with him?" + +"Do you know, I fancy that Phil didn't want her." + +"Nevertheless she had married him. One doesn't take the vow 'and +forsaking all others' to break it, does one?" gravely. + +"I deduce from that that you do not believe in divorce?" + +"Divorce! While I acknowledge that there may be situations where it is +unavoidable, I hate the word. Always to me it takes on the semblance of +Medusa's head in my school mythology, its snaky, hissing locks striking, +stabbing, stinging, scarring indelibly. I believe in keeping covenants." + +"It's hard sometimes." + +"It is, but life isn't intended to be all joy-ride. I've found that +out." + +"You mean----" + +"Nothing which need make you glower at me like that," defiantly. "Do you +know, I fancy," with an exact imitation of his earlier voice and manner, +"that the future first families of America's 'Who's Who' will be those +who can count back at least four generations of ancestors who have, in +spite of disappointment and disillusion, poverty or riches, sickness or +health, kept their marriage covenants. A curious idea, isn't it? It just +came to me. 'A little thing but mine own,'" her tone changed from +earnestness to flippancy on the last words. She syncopated a few bars of +"Papillions" as though to emphasize her indifference. + +Courtlandt thrust his hands hard into the pockets of his dinner coat. +The atmosphere tingled with electricity. The girl wondered if he were +throttling a desire to shake her. She hoped so. He met her eyes steadily +for a moment before he turned to leave the room. Jerry took a hasty +step after him. + +"Wait, please--if--if----" as he kept on she added desperately, "Steve, +please." He stopped and turned. "If--if you should see Dad--do not +mention the fact that Bruce--that Mr. Greyson's ranch is near your +uncle's." + +"Why not?" relentlessly. + +"Because in an attack of homesickness last winter I became engaged to +him." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +In the music-room of the Manor the rugs had been rolled back, the voice +of the phonograph released from captivity and the Courtlandts' guests +were dancing, at least some of them were. Sir Peter had beguiled +Glamorgan to the library for a smoke. The oil-king had cast a gloom over +the dinner. Was it because he was disturbed about Nicholas Fairfax, +Jerry wondered. To the amazement of all, he and the ranchman had become +great friends. It would be like her father to be irritable if he were +moved. Perhaps it had been the arrival of Greyson which had infuriated +him. Last winter he had quickly made her see the folly of her engagement +to the owner of the X Y Z, and now she was grateful to him. She had +known at the time that she did not love Bruce Greyson, but that she was +in love with love. In a way her life had been a lonely one, and when he +had pleaded with her to marry him, she had agreed to a tentative +engagement. Now she was glad that she had kept him at a distance, even +in those two weeks. + +She looked up at Greyson as he sat beside her in one of the deep +embrasures of a window. A distinguished looking man, he gave the +impression of having lived in great spaces, of having achieved +worth-while things, of being absolutely poised and self-assured. His +dark hair was tending toward neutral at the temples, his keen blue eyes +had fine lines radiating from them, which denoted long-distance gazing. +The weather-beaten texture of his skin was emphasized by the immaculate +white of the shirt and collar of his up-to-the-minute dinner clothes. + +Peggy Glamorgan, as she danced with her brother-in-law, was doing +direful things to the heart of young Don Curtis, whose family estate +adjoined the Manor. She was a charming, younger model of her sister, +except that where Jerry's eyes were brown, Peggy's were a somewhat +elfish hazel. She was making the most of a week-end freedom from school +discipline. Steve Courtlandt's glance wandered to the two in the deep +window. Peggy looked up at him with tormenting concern. + +"That's the second time you've lost step, Steve. I protest. I hate being +trodden on." Her laughing eyes and mischievously curved lips robbed the +words of their sting. + +"I'm sorry! Give me one more trial, Peg-o'-my-heart, and I'll do +better," promised Steve. He had taken an immense liking to the girl, she +was so genuine, so unaffected, so brimming over with the zest of +living. + +"Nothing doing, brother. Go get Jerry. It's a part of her job to put up +with your poor dancing, isn't it? A part of the love, honor and obey +stuff? Catch me saying 'I will' to that. Jerry's different. She'd walk +over the proverbial ploughshares if she thought duty called." She looked +across the room to where her sister sat and added softly, "It's a queer +trick of fortune that Bruce Greyson should be your uncle's confidential +man and should come to this house." + +"Why accent this?" demanded Steve Courtlandt bluntly. + +Peggy flushed guiltily beneath his stern eyes. + +"That's only my exclamatory style. I meant that it was strange that +Jerry should meet him here after--after--I--I wonder if that was what +made her cry last night?" + +"Did Jerry cry last night?" + +"She cross-my-throat-and-hope-to-die swore she didn't, this morning, but +her lids were suspiciously pink. Didn't you notice it? Thank you, I +should love it," she responded to young Curtis who had been impatiently +hovering in the offing. "There really isn't much fun dancing with old +married men," she confided in a tone intended to reach Steve. She made +an impudent little face at her brother-in-law over her partner's +shoulder. He smiled and blew her a kiss as she danced away but her +words hurt, hurt because he knew that she was right. He felt years older +than he had that epoch-making October night when his father had revealed +to him the state of the family finances, and had presented the means +whereby it could be remedied. Had he chosen wisely, he wondered; +wouldn't it have been better to let the property go than to have married +a girl who had so quickly acquired an aversion for him? + +He looked across at the two engrossed faces in the window. He'd break +that up. Jerry should remember where she was and not give occasion for +silly gossip. Already Felice Denbigh, who had motored out from town for +dinner, had called his attention to Greyson's apparent devotion. With +eyes combative, Steve strolled to where Jerry sat. + +"Will you dance with me, Mrs. Courtlandt?" he asked with aggressive +formality. In the midst of a sentence, she looked up in startled +surprise. Greyson rose. + +"I have committed the unpardonable blunder of monopolizing my hostess, +Steve," he apologized, "but the temptation to live over a perfect +friendship was too great to be resisted. I will beg a dance from your +sister, Mrs. Courtlandt." + +Jerry's eyes followed him as he crossed the room. They made Steve think +of deep, troubled pools when she looked up at him. Was it because Peg +had put the idea into his head or did they look as though they had known +recent tears? Was she finding her marriage a bar to happiness already? +His face was a trifle white, a trifle grim as he reminded: + +"Do we dance?" + +Without answering she rose, and he put his arm about her. Except for +taking her hand it was the first time he had touched her. How slender +she was, how soft, how graceful. He could feel her heart pound heavily +against his breast. One might think that she was frightened, but with +him--that was absurd. Her dancing like her walk was perfection of +motion. He was careful of his steps as they danced down the long room. +Jerry should have no occasion to echo Peg's reprimand. She stopped. + +"Tired?" he asked solicitously, his senses still throbbing from the +appeal of music and dance. She shook her head. + +"Tired! I don't know what it is to be tired. Some of our guests are not +dancing. Mrs. Denbigh is quite alone and looking horribly bored. Peg +seems to have appropriated more than her share of men; she is +surrounded. Don't you think that as host you should dance with Felice?" + +"Presently. I have something to say to you first." He changed his +position so that he stood between her and the others in the room. + +"Why did you cry?" + +She crimsoned even under the tiny curls at the nape of her white neck. + +"I! Crying! How absurd. You really should go and dance with your +guest----" + +"Not until you tell me why you cried." + +"But I haven't been crying." + +"Oh, yes you have. I----" + +"Supper is served in the library, Mrs. Courtlandt," interrupted Judson +of the velvet tread. As they left the room in the wake of their guests +the butler detained Stephen Courtlandt and said something in a low tone. + +"Has Mr. Greyson gone up?" he asked hurriedly and when Judson answered +in the affirmative he turned to Jerry: + +"I must go to Uncle Nick. I may not be down again." + +"Is he----" but he was mounting the stairs two steps at a time before +Jerry had finished the sentence. With a feeling of foreboding she +entered the library. The guests were grouped around the fire with Judson +and a maid serving supper. She stopped in the shadow of the doorway. +Up-stairs the spirit of an old, weary man was passing, here--the room +and its furnishings made a rich background for the shimmering satin of +dainty gowns; the firelight played mad pranks with jewels at white +throats and on pink fingers, with the glittering buckles on silver +slippers; bright eyes were laughing into eyes that pleaded or compelled, +young voices were teasing, challenging. + +Jerry's breath came unevenly. She had cried last night. It was a rare +indulgence for her. She could not tell now why. How could Steve have +known? She hoped that none of these chattering boys and girls suspected +it. She looked about the room. How she loved it! It stood for all the +background she had acquired by her marriage. She loved the old +seventeenth century Courtlandt, she held long, one-sided conversations +with him when she was sure that she was quite alone. He had given her to +understand that a _marriage de convenance_ quite met with his approval, +that in his day girls married to please their parents. She wasn't so +sure of the judgment of Steve's mother. Her eyes, so like her son's, +looked down with a grave question in their depths when she appealed to +her. + +The group around the fire made room as they welcomed her with gay +reproof for tardiness. Felice Denbigh inquired impatiently for Steve. +Jerry made his apologies and explained his absence. The voices of the +guests became hushed. One by one they left, almost tiptoeing through the +hall. Peggy snuggled up to her sister when the two were alone. + +"Has--has Uncle N-Nick--gone?" she whispered. Then as Jerry shook her +head, "If--if he does will you come and sleep with me?" + +"I will, dear, but there is nothing to frighten you. Why should there be +in the passing of an old man's spirit?" + +"But--but he was such a cross old man. What has made you so brave, +Jerry? Once you would have dreaded it as much as I--being here at a time +like this, I mean." + +"Perhaps it is the hours I have spent in the hospital with the sick and +wounded soldiers. I have seen so much and felt so much, that death has +seemed beautiful, not terrible. Go to bed, child. I'll come in later and +stay with you." + +She went down the hall. "But he was such a cross old man!" Peggy's +obituary of Nicholas Fairfax echoed persistently in her mind. What a +tragic thing to have said about one. She couldn't blame her sister. Old +Nick had been consistently disagreeable to her and Peg was too young to +take into consideration his age and illness. She lingered for a moment +before the door of the room in which Nicholas Fairfax lay. Could she +help? The nurse came out suddenly and almost collided with her. + +"Goodness, Mrs. Courtlandt, you gave me a start! I was just coming for +you. Mr. Stephen sent me. His uncle wants you." + +With her breath coming hurriedly, her heart pounding, Jerry followed +the woman. What could Old Nick want? To continue his insults? She passed +into the inner room. The window was open to let in the clear winter air. +The old man was raised high on his pillows. Steve held one of the +gnarled hands. Courtlandt was behind him. Greyson, as rigid and +immovable as one of the mountains of his own country, stood at the foot +of the bed. Doctor Rand, his face grave and deeply lined, motioned the +girl to take her place opposite Steve, then he and the nurse and Greyson +moved back to the outer room. As Jerry bent over him, Nicholas Fairfax +looked up into her eyes. They met his tenderly. The tenseness of his +expression relaxed, he fumbled for something under his pillow. Jerry +reached for him and drew out an open prayer-book. His shaking finger +pointed to the page; it was the marriage service. + +"Read that--read that--aloud," he commanded in a voice which still held +a ring of power. + +Slipping to her knees beside the bed the girl read. Haltingly, huskily +at first, but as she lost thought of self in the beauty and meaning of +the words her voice cleared. + +"'Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together +after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony and forsaking all +others keep thee only to him as long as ye both shall live?'" + +The gnarled, claw-like hand fell on the book. The Old man leaned +forward. His voice, weaker now, interrupted: + +"'And forsaking all others keep thee only to him as long as ye +both--shall live,' did you mean it, girl, when you made that vow?" + +Jerry's face was colorless. There was a broken exclamation from Steve. +She laid her hand gently over the icy hand on the book. Her young ardent +eyes met his dim ones steadily. + +"I did, Uncle Nick." + +He dropped back with a faint sigh. + +"Then it will be all right--Steve. I was afraid--that I might have--but +I meant it for the best--it will come right Doc Rand says--things will +come right--marvelously--unbelievably--right!" + +His voice trailed off into silence. The lines of pain and weakness in +his face disappeared as though a soothing hand had been laid upon them. +The curtains at the open window stirred for a moment and then were +still. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Caleb Lawson paused in the reading of the will of Nicholas Fairfax to +peer over his half-moon spectacles. His pursed lips made a red, bulbous +blot on his pale face as he regarded the three persons in the library at +the Manor. Outside an ice-tipped vine struck with a ghostly tap! tap! +tap! against the diamond-paned window. Geraldine sat beside Peter +Courtlandt. Stephen stood with his back to the fireplace. The sunlight +which streamed in at the window touched the girl's hair and transformed +it into a crown of bronze with curious red and gold lights. The lawyer's +gaze lingered on her for a moment before he cleared his throat with a +force which sent a premonitory thrill down the spines of his hearers and +resumed the reading of the bulky document he held. + +"'Lastly, all the rest, residue and remainder of the property both real +and personal of which I may be possessed or to which I may be entitled +at my decease, I give and devise to my nephew Stephen Courtlandt, to him +and his heirs forever, on condition, however, that he take possession +and management of my ranch in the State of Wyoming not later than three +months after my decease and live there one year with his wife Geraldine +Glamorgan Courtlandt. And on the further condition that his said wife, +during said year, shall refuse to receive income from the fund her +father has provided for her, and shall dispose of all securities and +money she may have. If my nephew Stephen Courtlandt or his wife, +Geraldine Glamorgan Courtlandt, fail to fulfil any one of these +conditions said property shall be divided as follows:'" + +The lawyer laid down his papers and looked over the edge of his +spectacles at Stephen Courtlandt. + +"There is no need of my reading that long list of beneficiaries until I +know your decision, Stephen. If your father will take me to his study +we'll leave you and Mrs. Courtlandt to talk it over." + +"You may proceed with the reading. I refuse to accede to the +conditions," Steve announced with grim lips. + +"Steve," his father protested, "think it over before you say that." He +looked imploringly at the girl beside him but her eyes were fixed on the +interlacing fingers which lay passively on the lap of her black gown. +"Talk with him, Jerry. Don't let him fling this away recklessly," he +pleaded. "Come, Lawson, we'll leave the young people to thresh this +thing out." + +He followed the lawyer from the room and closed the door. Stephen poked +viciously at the coals in the fireplace till a fountain of sparks +sputtered up the chimney. Then he backed up against the mantel and with +a face from which every drop of color had drained, looked down at the +bent head of the girl he had married. He laughed shortly. + +"Old Nick had a genius for messing things up, hadn't he? When I heard +the first clause of that will, which related to me, even when the +condition followed that I was to live on the ranch for a year--nothing +but a mad sense of freedom thrilled me. I would be my own man once more, +rich enough to pay back to your father every cursed cent he had loaned +on the Courtlandt property and then have a living income. I could----" + +His eyes burned, the veins stood out on his forehead. Jerry realized for +the first time the sacrifice of pride and happiness he had made for his +family name. She finished the sentence for him: + +"You could have your marriage annulled." + +He looked at her steadily. + +"That did not enter into my plan. Why, oh why, did Uncle Nick have to +wreck the whole thing by involving you? I wouldn't take you if you would +go. You married me for what I could give you socially. A lot I could +give you out there in the wilderness." + +"Nevertheless, I shall go with you." + +"What! Why, by your own confession you would starve for people in a +wilderness." + +"Do you want this fortune?" + +"More than I ever wanted anything--except one--in my life." + +Jerry whitened at his amendment. + +"I suppose that one thing was Felice. In spite of that I shall go with +you. I shall fulfil my part of the conditions and after you have +fulfilled yours then--then we'll consider." + +He strode over to her, seized her hands and pulled her to her feet +beside him. His face was white, his eyes searching. + +"Peg said that you would walk over burning ploughshares if you thought +duty called; she's right. But--but I shan't let you make the sacrifice." + +"You can't help yourself if I am determined to go. You don't want to +start a scandal in high society, do you, by refusing to take me? I don't +care to go any more than you care to have me," bitterly, "but--but I +promised. Uncle Nick knew what he was doing when he made me read that +marriage service, 'and forsaking all others'--I shall be doing that all +right. But it was not a fair-weather vow. If your interests take you to +the ranch I shall go with you." + +"What will your father say?" + +She shrank away from him but he still had her hands in his and drew her +back. Her lips curved in a disdainful smile. + +"I think--I think we shall have what the miners used to call a +'helofarow.'" + +"He will never consent to your going." + +"What difference will that make? How can he prevent it? He cannot take +back what he has given your father. That is all that need concern you," +with exasperated frankness. He flushed darkly at her tone, dropped her +hands, and touched a bell. When the butler opened the door he commanded +curtly, "Judson, ask Mr. Lawson and my father to come here." + +When the two men appeared in answer to the summons Glamorgan was with +them. His face was deeply flushed, his little green eyes snapped with +anger. + +"Look here, Jerry, what's this I hear about your going off on a ranch? +It can't be done, I tell you. Steve doesn't need that--that old +mischief-maker's money," his voice broke queerly, but he steadied it and +went on, "Why doesn't he stay here and spend mine?" + +"You are quite right, Mr. Glamorgan. I have been trying to impress your +daughter with the fact that she need not take her marriage vows +literally. I am content to eat the crumbs which fall from my rich +father-in-law's table." + +"Steve!" Peter Courtlandt protested brokenly. + +Jerry faced her father. Her black gown brought out the pallor of her +face and throat. The only color about her was the vivid curves of her +lips; even her usually brown eyes were black. + +"I'm sorry if it hurts you, Dad, but I shall go with Steve. He is +entitled to his uncle's fortune. What is a year out of our lives? +Nothing. I--married to please you. Now I shall interpret my marriage +vows to please myself." She was most lovely as she defied him. His green +eyes contracted to emerald sparks. The veins stood out on his forehead +like cords. Jerry remembered that it was the first time one of his +children had gone contrary to his command. + +"What will you do for money? That infernal will strips you of +everything. Ask Steve for it? I can see you. Come, Jerry, give this +thing up. Settle down here at the Manor and be happy." + +For the first time since she had come into the lives of the Courtlandts +Jerry looked like her father. There was the same determination about her +eyes, about her lips. + +"Be happy! Does smooth going necessarily mean happiness? Does jogging +along on the path beaten by our social set mean happiness? Do you know +how I feel, Dad? It is as though Steve and I had come up against an +enormous sign-post bearing the startling information, ROAD CLOSED: +DETOUR. The detour may be hard going, detours usually are, but they also +offer more thrills and adventures than the broad highway. I'm willing to +take a sporting chance if--if Steve wants me----" + +Young Courtlandt laid his hands lightly on her shoulders and looked down +at her with inscrutable eyes. + +"I do want you, but remember, if I win out, half of what I have will be +settled unreservedly on you. You will have earned it." She looked up at +him for a moment. + +"Then when you have rewarded me for being a good girl and have paid back +Father, you will consider yourself in a position to snap your fingers at +the Glamorgans?" He looked down at her with disconcerting steadiness as +he answered cryptically: + +"I shall consider myself in a position to dictate terms to one member of +the family. Mr. Lawson, I accept the conditions of my uncle's will." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +With each stop of the cross-continent train rain-coated men, with +occasionally a woman, entered the car and passed down the corridor to +disappear into the compartments. Porters wearing that air of authority +and responsibility for which one might justly look in a premier or +secretary of state, came and went; conductors punched tickets and +answered questions more or less amiably; the wheels rattled and roared +and ground ceaselessly; outside the rain descended with a persistence +worthy a better cause. + +From the window of her compartment Geraldine Courtlandt looked out upon +a drenched world. There was nothing to see save a dense white sheet ten +feet beyond the window. In an hour she and Steve would reach their +destination, the first stop on the detour, she thought with a sudden +mist before her eyes. She hoped that the storm was not an omen of what +lay before them. She shook herself mentally. "Don't be silly and +superstitious," she admonished that Jerry Courtlandt who persisted in +having a queer lumpy feeling in the region of her throat whenever she +thought of the curious twist the apparently broad, straight road of her +marriage had taken. + +Her father had maintained his attitude of angry aloofness. He had not +come to the station to see her off, she had waited on the platform until +the train started, hoping that he would relent at the last moment. He +had sent a curt typewritten note to the effect that if she and Steve +regained their common sense and returned to the Manor before the end of +the year he would double the income he had allowed them. There were a +dozen glorious American beauties in her compartment when she entered it. +The roses had set the atmosphere tingling with life and color and love. +Jerry laughed happily and kissed each one of them. How like her father +it was to write the note with one hand and send flowers with the other. + +What difference would it make if her income were doubled if she were +disloyal to the promise she made when she married Steve, the girl +thought, as chin on her hand she gazed unseeingly out at the rain. "An +easy conscience is more to be desired than great riches," she +paraphrased to herself as she thought of the weeks when she had been +engaged to Greyson. Her heart still smarted with contrition as she +remembered how ashamed she had been that she could make so little +response to the love he lavished upon her. "Never again!" she said +aloud. "I've made two mistakes, Bruce and Steve. From now on I'll do +what I know to be right even if I hurt someone else and--and hate doing +it. But--but just what shall I do for money?" she questioned with +puckered brows. + +She opened her beaded bag and poured the contents into her lap. "How are +the mighty fallen!" she quoted with a laugh as she looked down upon the +collection displayed. A handkerchief, one gold pencil, the key to her +safe-deposit box, the membership card of her club, a book of postage +stamps. Nothing else. She had carried out the terms of the will in +letter and spirit. After her bills had been paid she had transferred her +bank balance to her father and had dropped her remaining cash into the +box of a Salvation Army lassie as she entered the station to take the +west-bound train. The woman in the red-banded pokebonnet, standing on a +board to keep her stout boots from the dampness, had looked at the bills +crushed into her box, then after the donor incredulously. Such lavish +generosity was rare in her experience. + +Jerry frowningly regarded the objects in her lap. Not one cent of money. +"Being marooned on a desert island has nothing on being marooned on a +ranch without a penny," she mused under her breath. She hastily stuffed +her belongings back into her bag as she heard an approaching whistle. +It was Steve. The queer merry-go-round of fortune had accomplished one +thing, it had restored Steve's spirits. Since leaving New York he had +been a different person from the morose, touchy individual she had known +since her engagement to him. He had been companionable, sympathetic in a +fraternal sort of way which had made her wish fervently that Fate had +given her a brother instead of a husband. + +"Won't you come in?" she asked as Courtlandt stopped at the open door, +then as he entered, "Is it time to get on my coat?" + +"Not for half an hour." He seated himself opposite her. There was a new +expression in his eyes which set the girl's heart to beating +uncomfortably. She couldn't define it, she couldn't meet it long enough +to define it. + +"Jerry," there was an "'tention company" note in his voice which brought +her chin up defiantly, "I suppose--if you complied with the terms of +Uncle Nick's will you must be rather down and out financially--yes?" She +succumbed to the lure of his smile and the laughter in his eyes. + +"Thought telepathy," she responded gayly. "I was taking account of stock +when you appeared. I have in this bag, one pencil, one handkerchief, one +perfectly good club-membership card--good, that is, until January +first--and a book of two-cent stamps. Those stamps won't imperil our +hopes of the inheritance, will they?" she asked with exaggerated +anxiety. "Caleb Lawson held me up before I boarded the train. I had to +sign a paper and show him my empty purse to prove that I was really the +Beggar-maid, bare-pursed instead of barefooted, following my King +Cophetua out into the cold, cold world." + +"Your simile is faulty. As I remember it the Beggar-maid loved the +King." + +"Also the King loved the Beggar-maid. You're right, the similarity +ceases with my lack of funds." + +"I shall open an account for you in the bank at Slippy Bend. Until +then----" his hand went to his pocket. The girl's face whitened. + +"Don't offer me money, Steve," she commanded tensely. + +"I'm not offering money. I am giving you what belongs to you. Aren't you +earning what Uncle Nick left as well as I?" + +"Weren't you earning your share of Father's money when you married me?" + +"That's different." + +"Why? You refused to take my money. I refuse to take yours." + +"You will take it." + +Jerry leaned forward, her face as colorless as his. + +"Take that 'Hands up!' expression out of your eyes, Steve. I shall not +take a cent of your money. You will find that a Glamorgan has as much +pride as a Courtlandt if she hasn't several generations of aristocrats +behind her." Her angry eyes blazed as he retorted laughingly: + +"You forget. You're not a Glamorgan now." + +She shrugged lightly. + +"More's the pity." + +"Do you mean that?" Consternation banished the smile from his lips. He +caught her hands in his. "The day Uncle Nick arrived I heard you +say----" + +"Nex' stop Slippy Bend, Miss. Porter for your bags," interrupted a +Jamaican voice with a Chicago accent. Jerry's face flushed with relief +as the black head with its gleaming eyes and teeth bobbed in at the +door. She pointed to the bags. As the man went out with them she turned +to Courtlandt with an embarrassed laugh. + +"You've won this time, Steve. I had forgotten the porter. You'll have to +tip him and the maid for me. However, as this is really a deferred +wedding-trip the expenses naturally fall to the groom, don't they?" with +reckless daring. + +He looked at her until her laughing eyes fell before the glow of his. + +"You've said it--if this can be called a wedding-trip--but take it from +me, sometime, Mrs. Courtlandt, I'll show you what a real honeymoon can +be. Porter, here's another bag." + +He followed the black man into the corridor. Jerry settled her smart +toque and pinned on her veil before the mirror, but she couldn't see her +own face, only Steve's with that curious I'm-biding-my-time look in his +eyes. What had he meant about a honeymoon? Did he mean that he and +Felice--no, _no_, Steve was not that kind. She looked about the +compartment to make sure that she had left nothing. Three roses still +glowing with beauty remained of the dozen. She pinned them to the front +of her coat. She would take so much of her father into her new life with +her. + +The wooden shanty which served as a shelter for telegraph, freight and +passengers at Slippy Bend was as depressing as rain, flapping shingles +and a skewed roof could make it. The road which struggled up a slope to +hide between two shabby buildings was a river of mud. A knock-kneed man +with a string of slat-ribbed calico horses and cayuses following him, +waded downward through the middle of it. Every few steps he would stop +to yank a howling, red-eyed bulldog from a hole which had betrayed him. +Jerry valiantly blinked back the tears as she watched him. She had never +seen anything quite as sordid and depressing as her surroundings. The +only note of civilization in the dreary scene was the large, curtained +touring car by the platform. As she looked at it, two legs, which had +acquired Queen Anne curves from many hours spent in the saddle, wriggled +from under the curtains followed by a large body. A Belgian police dog, +tawny, noble, aloof, followed the man. Courtlandt who had been busy with +the luggage turned with a boyish laugh and held out his hand. + +"It sure is great to be back, Pete. Down, Goober, down, boy!" to the dog +who, after an uncertain second, had leaped to lick his face. He kept one +hand on the animal's head as he turned to the girl beside him. "Jerry, +this is Pete Gerrish, who taught me all I know about ranching. He is +Uncle Nick's right-hand man. Pete, this is Mrs. Courtlandt." + +"He's got me wrong, ma'am. I _was_ the old gentleman's right-hand man, +but Ranlett's in the saddle now. I'm sure pleased to meet you an' I hope +you'll be downright happy with us." + +"Thank you, Mr. Gerrish." Jerry felt the tears absurdly near as she +looked up at him. He was regarding her with unqualified approval. His +large face was cross-currented with fine lines and smiles; his Stetson +came close to ears which looked as though the Almighty had designed them +as hat-rests and had made a surprisingly good job of it. He carried the +marks of his calling in the devil-may-care poise of his body, in his +clothing, in his rollicking Irish eyes. + +"I'll give Baldy Jennings a hand with the trunks to get 'em out of the +rain till the boys get here for them. They're teamin' in. How the devil +did yer expect to get all them things out to the ranch over these spring +roads, Steve--I would say Chief? The boys has decided that even if they +did teach the new owner most of what he knows about ranchin', it won't +do to be familiar-like no more. So we've decided to call him chief, +ma'am," Gerrish inserted the bit of information to Jerry in the midst of +his dissertation on the condition of the roads. "I went up to the hubs +gettin' here with no load. By cripes, I don't know what'll happen goin' +back." + +Jerry was tempted to echo that "By cripes!" later, when the big car +laboring through what seemed rivers of mud, foundered in a hole. She +unfastened the curtain and looked out. Goober on the running-board, +plastered with mud, looked like nothing so much as a model sketchily +done in clay as he peered down inquiringly. Gerrish expressed himself in +language which the girl was sure was being painfully expurgated because +of her. The wheels groaned and choked as they churned up fountains of +mud. As she watched the wheel under her Jerry could think of nothing +but a gigantic egg-beater gone mad from the futility of its efforts. The +back of Gerrish's neck had taken on a dangerous, apoplectic color +generated, doubtless, by restraint from the fullest self-expression. + +"Would it help if I got out?" she ventured in the lull while the engine +rested. + +"Haw! I guess if yer did we'd have to haul you out in a hurry or send a +rescue-party through to China," Gerrish discouraged while Courtlandt +commanded: + +"Stay where you are! I'll take the wheel, Pete. We have nothing to put +under the back wheels; it would do no good if we had. The engine will +have to do the trick." + +He threw on the switch. The engine started. The spinning wheels hitched +forward, he reversed, hitched forward, reversed, hitched forward till +Jerry experienced all of the discomforts, and none of the stimulation, +of being aboard ship on a high and choppy sea. Courtlandt grimly pursued +his tactics till with a roar from the motor and a lurch which sent +Jerry's teeth into her lower lip, the car, looking like an uncanny +prehistoric animal which had been wallowing in a mud bath, dragged +itself from its hole, skidded with hair-raising irresponsibility, came +back to the road and struggled on. The rain stopped. The sky showed +shapeless spots of light where the clouds were thinning. Vapors floated +lightly above the fields. + +It was twilight, a crimson and gold twilight, when Courtlandt turned +into the avenue of cottonwoods which led to the ranch-house of the +Double O. The air was fragrant with fresh washed earth and the spicy +breath which the storm had beaten from the pines. From somewhere a +meadow-lark trilled an ecstatic greeting and as though frightened at its +temerity as suddenly subsided. The naming color in the west might have +been the glow from a blazing forest, but it was only the sun flinging +its good-night over sky and fields and mountains in the whole-hearted +Western way. Against the red light squatted the shadowy shape of the +ranch-house. + +When the car stopped Goober sprang to the porch and stood as if awaiting +orders. In the background hovered two Chinese servants, a man and a +woman. Their slant-eyes in their moon faces were ludicrously alike. The +woman in her gay silks and embroideries looked like a painting on +rice-paper. + +Pete and Hopi Soy carried in the bags. At a nod from Courtlandt the +woman followed. Steve held the door wide. With a curious choked feeling +Jerry entered the house. Then her emotion found vent in a little cry of +delight. After the grayness and mud of the ride out the great +living-room glowed like a jewel. The color stole through her senses like +an elixir and rested and refreshed her. Her eyes shone, her lips curved +in a faint smile as she looked about her. The servants had disappeared. +She and Steve were alone. + +Logs blazed in the great stone fireplace. Safely out of scorching +distance a white cat dozed in front of it, her fluffy coat rosy in the +firelight, her wide eyes like blinking topaz as she regarded the +newcomers. Gorgeous serapes from old Mexico, Hopi saddle-blankets, +heavily beaded garments of the Blackfeet, Apache bows and quivers full +of arrows, Navaho blankets, skins of mountain lions and lynx there were, +each one placed in artistic relation to its neighbor. A profusion of +books and magazines, a baby-grand piano, a phonograph _de luxe_, softly +shaded lamps, added their note of civilization to the array of savage +trophies and over the mantel---- + +"Why, Steve! There's Mother!" whispered Jerry softly. + +For a silent moment the man and girl standing side by side looked up at +the tender, laughing face of the woman in riding costume. She didn't +seem like a thing of paint and canvass, she was real, vital, alive and +welcoming. Jerry was the first to stir. She colored with confusion. + +"Steve, I--I beg your pardon! I--I shouldn't have called her--mother. +But I was so--so surprised. It seemed for a moment as if she held out +welcoming arms to me." She turned away. Courtlandt gripped her shoulders +with a force which hurt. + +"She is your mother--I----" he released her abruptly and threw open a +door. "These are your rooms. Mine are opposite. You see we have but one +story in the ranch-house. Your bags are in your room. Ming Soy will come +to help you when you ring." He put his two hands on her shoulders again. +"I'm glad that you wore my roses." + +"Your roses! Why I thought--I thought----" Her voice was drenched with +disappointment. Steve's face was a mask, only his eyes seemed alive as +he removed his hands and asked crisply: + +"That they came from Greyson?" + +"No, Steve, no! How could you think such a thing? I thought that Dad had +relented and--and had sent the roses to----" she winked her lashes +furiously but not before Steve had seen the diamond-like drops that +beaded them. His voice was tender as he comforted: + +"Your father will come round, Jerry. Just believe with old Doc Rand that +things have a way of coming marvelously, unbelievably right. You are not +sorry that you came, are you?" + +"I'll say I'm not!" She had essayed an imitation of his voice and words +but the emotion which had threatened her all day surged in her heart and +betrayed her. Steve caught her hands in his. + +"Don't look like that, little girl. You're going to love the life here +and the ranch and--and--and Goober," he added with a short laugh as the +dog bounded into the room. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Jerry Courtlandt sent her horse up the slope and came out on a bluff +above the Double O. As the girl sat motionless looking off over the +plain, an artist would have labeled the picture she made, "A Study in +Browns," before he slipped it into his mental portfolio. Her mount, +Patches, was a deep mahogany in color, her riding boots were but a shade +lighter than his satin skin, her breeches and long coat were of khaki, +her blouse was fawn color, her eyes were deeply, darkly bronze. +Rebellious tendrils of lustrous brown hair escaped from under the broad +brim of the campaign hat she wore, one of Steve's army hats with its +gold and black cord. He had insisted upon her using it. The hats she had +brought to the ranch had been urban affairs, not designed to shade her +eyes from the glare of white roads. As she had had no money with which +to buy another she had taken it. + +Jerry pulled it off as she took a deep breath of the glorious air +asparkle with bubbles of life. She loved the spot. Every day that she +rode she stopped to look down upon the valley. Far away among the +foot-hills a silver stream cleft rocky bluffs, then coiled and foamed +its way until it broadened and flashed in gleaming waterfalls. In places +where it boiled and frothed rustic bridges had been thrown across. +Toward the east lay the sturdily built stock corrals, storehouses spick +and span with whitewash, towering silos. Toward the west were fenced-off +alfalfa fields and beyond them a mosaic of varicolored pasture-lands, +dotted with grazing herds, stretched out to the foot-hills. + +Beyond the foot-hills loomed mountains darkly green with pine and spruce +to the timberline, above which reared sombre, forbidding rock until +against the ragged edge of gold-lined clouds, white peaks flamed crimson +in the slanting sun. Toward the north she could see the gap in the +mountains through which the railroad cut. The gap was known as the +Devil's Hold-up because of the natural facilities it had offered--and +still offered for that matter,--to the class whose pleasing pastime it +had been to maintain their divine right in the other man's property at +the point of a gun. + +Almost beneath her, approached by a broad, well-graded road, lay the +ranch-house. Telephone wires from all directions rounded up the +activities of the Double O at the office near by. The house was a +rambling structure of rudely squared timbers set in fieldstone and +cement. Its one story was built around a court on which many doors +opened and which was gayly brocaded with shrubs and plants in blossom +this late June day. + +Where was Steve, Jerry wondered, as her eyes lingered on the office +building. She saw him less and less as the days passed, as more and more +he assumed the responsibilities of the Double O. He was off before she +was up in the morning riding the range or in the dairies or barns until +night. She had hardly believed her eyes when on the evening after her +arrival, she had seen Steve and Tommy Benson, his secretary, come into +the living-room in dinner coats. Courtlandt had answered her unspoken +question with the explanation that it had been Nicholas Fairfax's +unvarying rule to shed ranch problems at night, and he had found that +getting into the dress of the city helped. A man just naturally would +curb an impulse to toddle down to the corral if he were in dinner +clothes. The two didn't seem to go together. + +Steve had appointed Tommy Benson her squire, he himself had so little +time to give her. A laugh curved Jerry's lips as she thought of Tommy. +He was a slight youth with a face of one of Raphael's cherubs grown up +and a book for his inseparable companion. His almost yellow hair was +short and wavy, his eyes were a brilliant blue, his skin was as nearly +pink and white as human skin can be after it has been ranch-seasoned, +his lips seemed made for laughter. He and Steve had been officers in +the same company and when they returned from overseas the two had gone +to the ranch to recuperate. Tommy had remained there to please his +mother. He was in the throes of a virulent attack of stage fever and +Mrs. Benson had begged him to wait a few years before he decided upon +acting as his career. She had assured him that if after reflection he +still felt that it was the profession for him she would attend his +premiere without a qualm. So he had stayed at the Double O. There was +plenty of money back of him and he had grown to love the ranch life, +apparently. + +Tommy was taking the responsibility of training the lady of the ranch +seriously, that is as seriously as a boy could who was forever +expressing his emotions and convictions in the words of the immortals, +Jerry thought with a smile. She had ridden since she was a little girl +but Tommy was making her proficient in some hair-raising stunts. Steve +didn't know of those but he had ordained that she was to learn to saddle +Patches, that she must be able to fasten and unfasten gates securely +while mounted, that she was to rope and shoot from her horse's back. + +Her days were full but filled with her own pleasures. She did nothing +for others, she thought ruefully as she gazed down upon the smoke rising +from the cook-house chimney. Her only link with the outside world was +Sandy, the carrier, whose appearance sent her imagination winging into +the past whenever she saw him. The queer little postman wore a tall gray +hat which, Tommy Benson insisted, was a left-over from the wardrobe of +Gentleman Rick whose zeal as a promoter of pleasure in Slippy Bend in +the nineties had lured men through miles of wilderness. Jerry often sat +on the wall beside the mail-box to await his coming. He always had news +and a quaint bit of philosophy if he hadn't letters. Letters! There +weren't many for her. She had had hosts of friends in school and college +but she heard from them seldom now. Her conscience administered a +vicious pinch. Yes, it was quite all her fault, she answered it. The +girls apparently had adored her, but she had been unable to accept their +devotion with single-minded pleasure. Always in the back of her mind had +skulked the ghost of that first home near the coal-fields. Would they +have cared for her could they have seen that? After her marriage events +had moved too rapidly for her to pick up the scattered lines of her +correspondence. However, she no longer had that excuse, her days now +were long and uneventful. She would write to every friend she had. It +would be like sending out a fleet of ships. How eagerly she would await +the return cargoes. + +She broke into her own good resolutions with a laugh. To send out +letters one must have stamps. She had used the last one she possessed +yesterday and to get more she must have money. "Money!" Jerry laughed +again as she repeated the word aloud. Conditions were reversed now as to +money, she thought as she stared unseeingly off at the mountain tops +which pricked the crimsoning sky. Steve had the income from his uncle's +large property as long as he remained on the ranch. It would not be his +unreservedly until a year from the day they had arrived at the Double O. +She had persistently refused to accept money from him. If she wrote to +the girls she would need a regiment of postage stamps. If she could +earn---- + +Her eyes flashed earthward from the mountains as she heard the click of +a hoof against rock and the creak of saddle leather. A horse and rider +topped the slope. It was Courtlandt on his favorite mount, Blue Devil, a +horse all spirit, shining blue-black satin. He was a regal creature from +his flowing mane to his silken fetlock. He nosed Patches who showed an +undignified haste to snuggle up to him in return. + +"Did you think you had lost me, Steve?" Jerry asked gayly as she noted +the seriousness of his blue eyes and the crease in his forehead which +his broad-brimmed Stetson was not drawn low enough to hide. How +unnecessarily good looking he was in his riding clothes, she thought. He +wore a black tie with his khaki shirt, his heavy riding breeches were +tucked into the tops of high boots which laced up the front and had +curious sloping heels. He had removed one of his riding gloves and the +dark stone of his ring, which bore the seal of the Courtlandts, made the +browned hand seem white in contrast. He gave the impression of being +absolute master of his horse and of any situation which might arise. +Jerry's heart unaccountably skipped a beat as he answered her question. + +"No, I saw you from the road. You looked like one of Dallin's bronzes. +Where is Tommy?" with quick displeasure. + +"Don't glower. I sent him back. I don't want him always at my heels. I +love to come up here alone and, figuratively speaking, look down upon my +blessings." + +"Was that what you were doing when I came up? Your expression belied +you. Instead of looking beatific, you looked worried." + +She laughed up at him with warm friendliness as she bent forward and +confided in a theatrical whisper: + +"You are right. I was figuring finances. I have just----" The color +flew to her face as she thought of what he might infer. She stumbled on +quite conscious that she was making matters worse. "I'm about at the end +of my stamp book and--and--I've developed a sudden fervor for letter +writing and--and----" she broke off her breathless explanation as he +laid his finely-shaped hand on her saddle-bow. Even back in the Manor +days his hands had fascinated her. + +"I'm glad that you've brought up the subject of finances, Jerry. The +money question between you and me has got to be cleared up, and cleared +up now. You've had your way long enough. Don't be foolish any longer, +little girl, I----" + +"I shall not take your money, Steve. Would you take mine?" then as his +eyes darkened stormily, "Oh, truly, I didn't mean to rouse sleeping +dogs--but--but I won't take it. I do nothing for you--if I even had +anything to do about the house but Ming and Hopi Soy run the household +motor noiselessly, perfectly, with every cylinder hitting. If there was +anything I could do----" + +"There is something you can do." + +Jerry's heart flew to her throat. What did he mean? He looked grim and +determined. + +"W-what is it?" she asked faintly. She put on her hat, tightened her +reins unconsciously. + +Courtlandt laughed. The sternness left his face. There was an +expression in his eyes which she couldn't translate as he teased: + +"Don't run, Jerry. You don't trust me over much, do you? To return to +finances, if you want to help you can do so tremendously by taking over +the accounts and my correspondence. Tommy's had that job but I need him +outside. Ranlett's leaving. You'll soon get the hang of the accounting +and it won't take much of your time." + +"But if it took all I'd love to do it, Steve. Shall I have a desk in the +office?" she asked eagerly. + +"If you agree to accept a salary." + +"But I don't want to be paid for helping." + +He turned his horse's head toward the slope. + +"That settles it. I shall send to the agency to-morrow for a private +secretary." As she did not answer he looked at her with a smile which +lighted eyes and lips. "Now will you be good?" + +She regarded him with oblique scrutiny. With an adorable imitation of +Pete Gerrish she drawled: + +"You're sure puttin' it straight, Chief. You win. Now shall we mosey +'long home?" With a touch of spurs she wheeled Patches and headed him +down the slope. + +"Why is Ranlett leaving?" she asked as their horses trotted side by side +along the hard white ranch road. Courtlandt's face reddened darkly. + +"Because I thought it time to determine the status of the alien on +Double O ranch. Ranlett had a couple of men in the outfit who have not +taken out first naturalization papers, even, who had been pointing out +to my boys deficiencies of the government. They're flares set here to +ignite any chaff of discontent which may be blowing about." + +"But you're not against freedom of speech, Steve?" + +"You bet I am against the inflammatory brand on the tongue of an alien. +What is he in this country but a guest? If a man came to stay in my home +and began a systematic undermining of the ideas and ideals on which that +home was built, what do you think I'd do to him?" + +"I'll say you'd sure put him out, Chief," with Gerrish's drawl and a +little rush of laughter. + +"I'll say I would. So quick he'd wonder what struck him. Why should the +government put up with their vicious patter? It's bad enough when an +honest-to-God citizen breaks loose and turns red, but for a man who is +here by courtesy--well, as I remarked before, there is no place for him +on the Double O ranch. Aliens will keep their jobs here only so long as +they conform to my ideas of fitness." + +"You're right, Steve. I have never thought of agitators in that light +but they are a sort of human slow-match timed to fire a mine of +discontent, aren't they? And half the time the mine doesn't know what +it is blowing-up about. How do the men feel about Ranlett's defection?" + +"I haven't asked them. What's the infernal row?" he demanded as they +drew rein at the gate of the court. Jerry looked at him in surprise. His +tone was that of a man whose nerves were taut to snapping point. She +slid from her horse and dropped the reins. Patches loped quietly but +determinedly in the direction of the corral and supper. Blue Devil, with +a reproachful glance at the deserter, followed daintily in the steps of +his master as Courtlandt and the girl entered the garden. The court was +a riot of plants and shrubs. The air was sweet with the fragrance of +roses just coming into bloom and rent by agitated yelps and a hoarse, +croaking voice. + +When Jerry and Steve reached storm centre they saw a combination of +scarlet, blue and green, swaying precariously on the top of a shutter. +It was Jose's parrot, Benito, flinging to the breeze the most +vituperative epithets a rich and racy vocabulary could suggest. Below +him Goober sat on his haunches. Between barks his tongue dripped, his +mouth hung open as though in riotous laughter. His tawny eyes flashed +ruby light. Tommy Benson, his finger between the pages of a book, his +hair rampant, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth, egged on the two as +he quoted from his favorite "Ancient Mariner": + + "'The wedding guest sat on a stone, + He could not choose but hear; + And thus spake on that ancient man, + The bright-eyed mariner.'" + +His eloquence incited the bird to renewed effort to express his +sentiments. Jerry clapped her hands over her ears and dashed into the +house. Steve whistled. The dog bounded in his direction, his quarry +forgotten in the joy of seeing his master. Courtlandt seized him by the +collar. + +"What do you mean, you sinner?" he demanded sternly. Goober looked as +though he were about to offer an explanation when the gaudy parrot, who +had been rocking back and forth on the shutter, croaked: + +"Lick him, Bo! Lick him!" + +Tommy dropped to the ground and rolled with laughter. Jose came hurrying +out of the house. He swept off his hat with a wide bow. His face had the +look of a much-shriveled mummy, his solitary tooth waggled precariously +as he talked. + +"_Que hay! Senor!_ One teeng I tell you. It ees that wild devil of a dog +that makes my leetle Benito to curse. _Madre de Dios_, but he ees +one--one----" + +"You've said it, Jose," encouraged Benson as he sat up and wiped his +eyes. He took his knees in an affectionate embrace. "He sure is one +little curser, that Benito of yours. Want me to help get him down?" + +"No--no, Senor Tommee. He come to me." He reached up and after a few +protesting squawks the parti-colored bird settled on the Mexican's +shoulder. As Jose left the court with him, the parrot shivered, flapped +his wings, winked at Tommy and croaked hoarsely: + +"What's all the shootin'?" + +Tommy gave vent to a whoop of appreciation before he turned to +Courtlandt, who was regarding the ranch-house door unseeingly. He gave +him a resounding whack on the shoulder as he ranted: + + "'How is't with you + That you do bend your eye on vacancy?'" + +"Quit your histrionics, Tommy. Has Pete Gerrish been here for me?" + +"Nope. Nothing doing." Benson stroked Blue Devil's satiny nose and +rested his face against it as he asked in a low tone, "Any news of those +stray calves?" + +Courtlandt's brows met in a quick frown. + +"No, but of course we'll find them. It's absurd to think a man can get +away with rustling in this enlightened twentieth century, that we've +got to revert to shooting and----" + +"That's what the majority of the world claimed in 1914," interrupted +Benson dryly. + +"Don't be a blamed pessimist, Tommy. I'm going to take you off the books +and use you outside." + +"Oh boy!" he voiced the twentieth century equivalent to the nineteenth +century "Great Scott!" in delighted approval. "If you do that and +Ranlett has been crooked, he hasn't a prayer. I'm the original Sherlock +Holmes. Watch me get him! Pete's boys have all they can do now without +turning detectives. You'd think that Gerrish had just been put in charge +of a new outfit. He's on location every minute, reestimating the number +of head each pasture should carry, weighing up the stock, sifting out +the undesirables. Take it from me, old dear, he knows every calf by +name, what it's worth now and what it will bring one year from now. He +claims that Ranlett has been underselling. I'll ride the fences +to-morrow. If you say the word I'll take Jerry along and we'll have a +corking time." + +"You and Jerry usually have a corking time together, don't you?" Benson +showed his teeth in a flashing smile. + +"I'll say we do. I don't like to talk about myself, but----" + +Courtlandt laughed. + +"You don't care for yourself one little bit, do you, Tommy? By all means +take Jerry if she cares to go. Beat it down to the corral with Blue +Devil, will you? That is if you dare ride him," Steve amended with a +laugh. + +Tommy mounted with the agility of a monkey, wheeled his horse and +declaimed theatrically: + + "I dare do all that may become a man + Who dares do more is none!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + "Work is the grandest cure for all the maladies and miseries + that ever beset mankind.--CARLYLE." + + +Jerry nodded approvingly at the quotation above her desk in the office. +It had been hung there in Old Nick's day and was quite as pertinent in +her case as it might have been in his. To be sure, their maladies +differed. His couldn't by the remotest possibility have been lack of +money, she thought with a laugh. + +Steve had installed her at her desk two weeks ago and had then forgotten +her, presumably. Tommy Benson was giving her instructions as to her +duties, but even his attentions were episodic. Ranlett had departed +swearing vengeance in the good old nineteenth century style and Steve +and Gerrish were out from morning till night taking account of stock and +checking up. Tommy was riding range and being general utility man. +Neither he nor Steve knew how closely she had remained at her desk. She +must make good and she must accomplish it without taking too much of +Tommy's time. As Steve had insisted upon paying her a month's salary in +advance she had surreptitiously sent for a correspondence course on +bookkeeping. She was making Sandy's life miserable because the material, +which she expected would make her efficient in twenty-four hours, had +not arrived. + +Arms on the back of her swivel-chair, one knee in the seat she twisted +slowly about. The room inspired the same sense of breathless interest it +had the first time she entered it. Two walls were encased in glass. +Behind the glass hung a collection of riding equipment and firearms. +Some of the pieces dated back to the epoch-making journey of the +pathfinders, Lewis and Clark, some to the first white settlers in the +region west of the Mississippi. There were saddles rich in silver +filigree which had come from the southwest of the cattle country; there +were saddles with short round skirts, open stirrups, narrow and rimmed +with iron; some had borders and emblems stamped on the leather, some had +dark stains. There were chaps, fringed and unfringed, in infinite +variety. There were coiled ropes of rawhide and of well worn grass; +there were guns and knives and tomahawks, there was a stained and +tattered Stars and Stripes. + +"You fairly ooze atmosphere." Jerry mused aloud, her dreamy brown eyes +on the saddles. "If you could speak what couldn't you tell of romance +and comedy and tragedy. Herds, bad men, _voyageurs_, rustlers, settlers, +prairie-schooners and Indians, you must have seen them all." Her voice +had dropped to a whisper. Its tenseness roused her from what was fast +becoming a vermilion orgy of imagination. She swung her chair round and +dropped into it with a laugh and the reflection, "Pete Gerrish says that +when a person talks to himself he's sure in for adventure." + +She picked up a typewritten letter and regarded it with vainglorious +elation. Not so bad! There was a spiral effect at the end of one +sentence but on the whole it was a creditable affair for a person who +had never used a typewriter till the week before and who was relying on +the hunt-and-punch method for progress. Her already flushed cheeks took +on a deeper tinge as she looked at the filing cases. Would she ever +acquire a feeling of even bowing acquaintance with them, she wondered; +they were most awe-inspiring. + +The sun lay warmly on the fields outside, a gay little breeze spiced +with pine danced in at the open window, stirred the curls at the nape of +the girl's neck and whisked out again. Jerry looked out longingly, shook +her head. "Remember, you're a daughter of toil now," she adjured the +vagabond impulse which urged her to be up and away on her horse. She +resolutely turned her back on the tempting out-of-doors and picked up +her letter. + +"'Gentlemen,'" she read aloud, "'We are shipping'--now why should I have +typed that slipping--'thirty head of Guernseys on the----'" A shadow +from the open door fell on her paper. Absorbed in her corrections, she +spoke without looking up from her desk: + +"You are wanted at the Lower Field, Pete. The Chief just 'phoned that +more calves are missing. That----" as no colorful ejaculation followed +her announcement, Gerrish swore with fascinating facility when he was +deeply moved, she looked up in surprise. The smile which the thought of +Pete had brought stiffened on her lips. She sprang to her feet and +pushed back her chair. A man leaned against the door, a giant of a man +fully six feet two. In a flash she sized him up. He was of different +caliber from the "boys" of the outfit. No one of them would have stood +with his hat on in her presence. The stranger's Mexican sombrero, pushed +far back on his head, revealed rough red hair; his eyes were a hard +blue; his nose suggested the beak of a hawk; his mouth was his best +feature, it looked as though it might have been tender before the +insidious processes of discouragement and recklessness got in their +work. One temple gave the impression of having been knocked in and from +the dent to the corner of his lips ran an angry, wrinkled scar. It +contributed a curiously saturnine expression to what in youth might have +been a pleasing face. From feet to waist his clothing was reminiscent of +the army; from the belt up it might have belonged to a rider, even to +the gay purple and crimson bandana at his neck. The stranger smiled +boldly as his eyes met the girl's. Jerry's heart did a handspring and +righted. A fleeting cloud of apprehension dimmed the brilliance of her +eyes. + +"If you are looking for a job you'll have to come back after five," she +volunteered with her best in-charge-of-the-office manner. "The manager +is off on the range." She could have cheerfully bitten out her tongue as +she noted the smile with which the man received the information. + +"I'm no cow-puncher," he answered disdainfully. "I'm not hunting a job +here. I'm looking for the railroad. I took the ranch road by mistake, +but, now that I am here----" He straightened his great shoulders, pulled +his soft hat jauntily over one ear with his big hairy hand, and took a +step into the room. "Well, you're too pretty a girl to be left alone, +_sabe_? I always had a taste for stenogs." + +Jerry's heart did another turn. She hated the man's eyes. Hers flashed +to the desk. There was no use trying to telephone, he might stop her; +besides, the ranch was an affair of magnificent distances; it would take +time for anyone she called to reach the office. Ming and Hopi would be +of as much assistance as two Chinese dolls. She must depend upon herself +to get rid of the creature. She swiftly computed the relative splashing +values of the ink-well and the pot of paste. The ink had it. Her hand +crept along the desk. + +"Don't come any nearer. If you're wise you'll go at once." + +"I get you. Here's-your-hat-what's-your-hurry stuff, yes? But I think +I'll stay. I've just come up from the border. You're the handsomest +white girl I've seen in months. Come on, be friends. I like that +gilt-edged effect in your hair and eyes. Take it from me----" + +Jerry was white to the lips. She lifted the ink-well. + +"You'd better go or I----" + +"What's your business here?" a crisp voice interrupted from the door. + +"Steve!" + +With the startled whisper the stiffening departed from Jerry's knees. +She sank back in her chair. The stranger wheeled with military precision +then, in a startled voice laden with pride and affection, cried: + +"_Comment ca va, mon Lieutenant!_" + +"Carl! Oh boy, Carl, where did you come from?" + +The undertone in Courtlandt's voice brought the tears stinging to +Jerry's eyes. Steve gripped the stranger's hand as though he would never +let it go. The two patted one another's shoulders with their free hands +and beamed with suspiciously bright eyes. + +"What good wind blew you here, Beechy?" Steve demanded. "Jerry, this is +Carl Beechy, who was my top sergeant in France. That scar he wears was +intended for me, and--and--he took it. Carl, this is my--this is Mrs. +Courtlandt." + +"Mrs. Courtlandt! Your wife, Lieutenant? _C'est drole, ca!_ +I--I--thought----" The girl had never seen such contrition as clouded +Beechy's eyes as they met hers. There was not a trace of recklessness in +them now; they were frankly pleading. She hesitated for a moment, then +smiled. + +"I'm glad that you came to the Double O, Sergeant Beechy. It was +fortunate that you arrived when you did, Steve. Mr. Beechy was just +going. You--you might not have recognized him had you met him on the +road." Her lips twitched traitorously as her glance flashed to the +ink-well on the desk. + +Beechy's eyes sent her a wireless of passionate gratitude and +admiration. Then he turned to Courtlandt. + +"You are the last person I expected to see here, Lieutenant." + +"Weren't you looking for me, Carl? I told you----" + +"I know, you told me to look you up, but--two years is a long time and +I've found men forget. I went to Mexico after I left hospital. I've been +drifting till now----" He broke off the sentence sharply. His face had +the curious look which tanned skin has when the blood has been drawn +away from it. Jerry could have sworn that there was fright in his eyes. +Did Steve see what she saw? Evidently not, for he exclaimed: + +"When you didn't turn up I thought you'd re-enlisted." + +"Me! Nothing doing, Lieutenant. The next time my country calls it'll +have to call so loud that I'll hear it at the other end of the world. +No, me and the U.S.A. is through." + +"That's fool talk, Beechy. I've heard it before. If you were needed you +and every man who talks like you would be the first to answer the call +to the colors. I know you. You jumped in at the first sign of trouble. +You'd do it again. Well, there's a job for you right here." + +The man's lips stiffened. A look of dog-like devotion flooded his eyes. + +"That's just like you, but--but I can't take it, Lieutenant. I've signed +up for--for something else, and you know--there's--there's honor among +thieves," with a strained attempt at levity which was belied by his +eyes. He looked at Jerry. "I never knew what a man could be till I met +the Lieutenant, Mrs. Courtlandt. I'd always thought that a rich guy was +bound to be soft, but he's tested steel. I've got to beat it this +minute. I--I was telling your wife when I came in, Lieutenant, that I +was looking for the railroad and took the ranch road by mistake." + +"But you can't go, Beechy. Good Lord, man, you've got to eat somewhere, +at least stop for chow. Come along to the bunk-house. I want the boys to +know you." He turned to Jerry. "Did you get hold of Pete?" + +"No, I couldn't reach him. I--I thought that it was he when Mr. Beechy +appeared." + +"Let it go then." He looked at her keenly. "Have you been out of the +office this week? I thought not," as she colored faintly. "Don't do any +more work to-day--please. Let's go, Carl." + +Beechy turned to Jerry. He twisted his hat awkwardly in his big hands. + +"Good-bye, Mrs. Courtlandt. I hope that you'll--you'll----" + +Jerry held out her hand with a smile. + +"I shall always remember what you did for your lieutenant, Sergeant +Beechy. Good luck; if you don't like the railroad come back to us." He +gripped the hand she extended. Jerry gave his a warning pressure as she +looked up and saw Steve regarding them intently. With a squeeze which +made her see fifty-seven varieties of stars and their collateral +branches, Beechy released her hand. + +"Let's go, Lieutenant." + +Jerry looked after the two as they strode away broad shoulder almost +touching broad shoulder. Had they been girls they would have their arms +around each other's waists, she was sure. What strange friendships the +war had welded. Braggadocio had slipped from Beechy like a garment the +instant he recognized Courtlandt's voice. He had assumed an entirely +different personality. Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. The soldier was a much +safer citizen than the man of peace, she told herself with a reminiscent +shiver. + +She picked up the papers on her desk, then dropped them. Steve had been +emphatic about her going out. Suddenly she felt that she couldn't endure +four walls a moment longer. She must be in the open. She pulled down the +top of her desk and dashed through the flowering court to the house. +She called Ming Soy to bring lunch to her room. She telephoned the +corral to send up Patches. + +In her cool, silvery gray linen riding clothes Jerry drew an ecstatic +breath as she gave Patches his head. He pirouetted for a moment then +settled to a steady canter. On all sides spread fields and pastures in +luxuriant greenness. Beyond them mountains swept to hazy, purple +heights. In one of the fields a rider turned and looked at her as she +passed. She leaned forward in her saddle, opened a gate and closed it; +she hoped the man had noticed with what ease it had been accomplished. +Great blooded Shorthorns turned ruminative eyes upon her; she had seen +women with that same expression when at a society function another +entered as to whose social status they were in doubt. Off in a pen a +perfect specimen of pure-blooded Ayreshire bull pawed the ground and +sent showers of earth spraying on his satiny back. Where the trail left +the flower-dotted meadow a spring bubbled from under a mushroom-shaped +rock. Jerry dismounted and knelt for a drink, more for the feel of the +sparkling water against her lips than because of thirst. + +Where should she go, she wondered as she mounted Patches. She had an +inspiration. She would make a neighborly call on the wife of the +ex-service man at Bear Creek ranch. Jerry had never seen her, but Sandy +the Carrier, who was the artery for news in the county, had told her +that she was lonely. + +The water was high in the stream. The banks were pink with wild roses +and among their denseness the meadow-larks kept up an invisible chorus. +Jerry forced Patches to a coquettish prance across the rustic bridge. It +was there that the apex of the B C triangle of land forced its way +between the Double O and the X Y Z. She knew the place; Tommy had shown +her the dividing fences. From where the rushing water narrowed and +whitened over a rocky bed an aged pack-trail staggered into a cuplike +ravine. Rejuvenated by the sunshine in the hollow it straightened and +sprinted straight as an arrow for the foot-hills. The sun shone warmly +on lustrous fields. The air was spicy with the breath of pines. A rabbit +hopped from cover and skurried back again. + +As Patches, with ears pricked, silky neck preened, stepped daintily +along the trail the girl sang happily: + + "'My road calls me, lures me + West, east, south and north; + + "'Most roads lead me homeward, + But my road leads men forth-- + To add more miles to the tal----'" + +The last word was broken in the middle as they rounded a clump of +cottonwoods and came suddenly upon a horseman with a small bunch of +sheep. He jerked his hat low over his eyes as the girl hailed him. + +"Good-afternoon! I am looking for Bear Creek ranch. Will you direct me?" + +Without answering in words the man pointed toward a clutter of buildings +in a slight depression. Back of them a scantily timbered hill, in places +rich with grass dotted with grazing sheep, gave the impression of an +animated Corot. Before Jerry could speak the stranger had galloped off. + +"A responsive party," she soliloquized. "Was he afraid of me, I wonder? +He registered guilt, all right. If he is the owner of B C ranch Uncle +Nick and Bruce Greyson were buncoed. That man is hiding something." + +A woman flung open the cabin door as Jerry rode up. She was young and +pretty. Her clear, full eyes reminded the girl of Ox-eyed Juno. She was +dressed in a bungalow apron of hectic design but scrupulous neatness. A +wistful smile trembled on her lips as she asked: + +"Have--have you lost your way?" + +Jerry Courtlandt shook her head and slipped from the saddle. The gold in +her brown eyes predominated as she fastened Patches to a post and +approached the door. + +"Lost? No, I came to call. I am Geraldine Courtlandt, your neighbor at +the Double O." + +The woman's face colored a delicate shell pink. Her expression was +radiance tempered by incredulity. + +"How--how nice of you, Mrs. Courtlandt, how human. I--I am Mrs. Jim +Carey. Nell Carey. Won't you come in?" + +Jerry liked her dignity. She showed no consciousness of the difference +between her three-room shack and the luxurious ranch-house from which +the visitor had come. "Thoroughbred," thought the girl as she preceded +her hostess into a small but immaculately clean room. With a happy laugh +tinged with excitement, Nell Carey waved her to a seat. + +"Do make yourself comfortable. If you'll excuse me for a moment I'll +bring some tea. The kettle has just boiled. You won't vanish while I'm +gone, will you? Promise. I have a horrible fear that your being here may +be nothing but an iridescent dream." + +Jerry's heart smarted with self-reproach. What heathen people can be and +yet be neighbors, she thought. Here was this girl, and she was a girl in +spite of that betraying heap of white sewing on the machine in the +corner, craving companionship, and she spent hours and hours riding +about the country with never a thought of being neighborly. She looked +about the room. What part of it wasn't taken up by a roll-top desk was +filled by a table fairly groaning under its load of magazines. Three +chairs and the machine completed the furnishings; that is, unless a worn +violin case in a corner came under that head. She hastily cleared an end +of the table as Nell Carey entered with a tea-tray. + +"Thank you. You are the first woman who has been inside my house since I +came here a year ago," she announced breathlessly. Her eyes glowed, her +cheeks were flushed. "Of course Jim has flivvered me to town, but--but I +haven't met anyone whom I cared to have here. Cream?" + +The loneliness of it, Jerry thought, as she watched her hostess pour +thick cream into the fragrant tea with hands that trembled. Then she +remembered that she had been at the Double O three months, and that +except for Ming Soy and Mrs. Simms, the foreman's wife at Upper Farm, +she had not seen a woman. Curious that she had not missed them. Doc Rand +had been as neighborly as his busy life permitted; Bruce Greyson had +been away from the X Y Z since her arrival. With Steve and Tommy she had +been absolutely content. Why? Her thoughts bolted on a tour of +investigation; she dragged them back to answer a question from her +hostess: + +"Not another cookie, thank you. I've been a gourmand, but they are +delicious." + +"Jim likes them." + +"I wonder if I saw your husband by the stream?" + +"No. Jim left yesterday on a hunt for help. He'll only be away four days +but it seems years to look forward to. You must have met our +range-rider, Bill Small. He dropped from the sky, figuratively speaking, +ten months ago. I call him the Man of Mystery. He never talks about +himself, never mentions his people, never has letters, but he's a shark +for work and he plays beautifully. That is his." She nodded toward the +violin case in the corner. "The boys from the Double O and the X Y Z hit +the trail for the Bear Creek every chance they can get to hear him +play." + +The sun topped the cap of a mountain like a mammoth red button as Jerry +leaned from the saddle and held out her hand. + +"You will come and see me, won't you?" + +Nell Carey's lips quivered betrayingly. + +"Of course, if you really want me. But it will be after----" Jerry gave +the hand she held an impulsive squeeze. + +"I'll come here again before that. Aren't you madly happy? I must hurry +or they'll have the entire outfit hunting for me. Good-bye!" + +As she reached the pack-trail she turned and waved and the woman +standing alone by her door waved back. What an atom she seemed in the +wide spaces about her. As she rode Jerry's mind was full of the home she +had left behind. What courage Nell Carey had had to follow her man into +a wilderness like that. And now a little child was coming. She thought +of her father, of his anger because his daughter had insisted upon +accompanying the man she had married to the Double O ranch with all its +luxury. Men were curious creatures. + +The sun had disappeared, fluffy islands of cloud, pink, lemon and +violet, floated above the tops of the mountains, the sky was fast +purpling, there was a suspicion of razor-edge in the crystal-clear air +as Jerry unlatched the gate by the road and closed it after her. She +gave Patches his head and raced toward the ranch-house. In the distance +she saw two horsemen galloping toward her. Steve and Pete Gerrish! She +glanced guiltily at her wrist watch. She was late. Did Steve care enough +to be anxious? The thought gave a tingling sense of excitement. As she +came near the two riders she touched Patches with her spurs, then pulled +him up suddenly. He stop-slid on his haunches, a bit of circus-variety +of horsemanship which Tommy had taught her. She pulled off her +broad-brimmed hat with a sweep reminiscent of Jose at his best and +called gayly: + +"_Que hay, senors! Buenos dias!_ La senora has been on a wild devil of a +ride, yes?" + +She laughed up into Steve's white face. He moistened his lips as though +they were stiff. She had worried him then. Pete Gerrish's eyes regarded +her with frank admiration. + +"Can she ride, Chief? I want to know! Can she ride! Steve is scared, +ma'am. There's a lot of strangers snooping round and he----" + +"Where have you been, Jerry?" Courtlandt had recovered his voice. + +"Don't beat me, Steve!" Patches was loping along between Blue Devil and +Gerrish's big sorrel. Encouraged by the foreman's quickly suppressed +"Haw-haw" at her pleasantry, she went on, "I've been to Bear Creek ranch +for tea." + +"To the B C alone?" + +"Do I look as though I carried concealed escorts?" with tormenting +charm. "I had an acute attack of conscience. It occurred to me that I +had been something of a heathen to ignore little Mrs. Carey, though I +didn't know that she was little when I went. I only knew what Sandy had +told me, that there was a woman at Bear Creek hungering for someone of +her own sex to talk to." + +"You are to be commended more for your conscience than your common +sense," retorted Courtlandt dryly. "Don't do it again." They reached the +ranch-house steps as he spoke. He slipped to the ground and before Jerry +could protest had lifted her from the saddle. She felt the muscles of +his arms twitch in the second he held her. Before she could speak he had +gathered up the bridles of the horses and started for the corral. The +brown depths of the girl's eyes were troubled as she looked after him. +What menaced the good-comradeship which their arrival at the Double O +had established between herself and Steve? Now he reminded her of a wary +foe thrusting and retreating on the slightest pretext. What could she +have done to change him so? She looked up at Gerrish, a puzzled question +in her eyes. He shook his head as his met them. + +"We mustn't mind if the Chief does act a little locoed, ma'am. He's +walkin' right into trouble. It's Ranlett the Skunk, saving your +presence. Somebody's cayuse got rid of some hobbles when the fence was +cut where the Double O and the X Y Z join, and a bunch of calves has +disappeared. There ain't hide nor hair of 'em to be seen. But, shucks, +don't tell the Chief I told you. I'll mosey 'long now." + +Jerry looked after him with narrowed eyes. "Where the Double O and the X +Y Z join," Pete had said. That was where Bear Creek ranch came in! Like +a movie close-up came a vision of the solitary horseman she had hailed, +the man who had dropped from the air, who never talked about himself or +his people, who never received letters, the Man of Mystery. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Courtlandt backed his horse suddenly into the shadow of the quaking +aspens which were fluttering their gold in the sunshine. He adjusted the +field-glasses which he carried slung from his saddle-fork and looked +intently at the bluff which reared from the western bank of the stream. +He was right. There were two men there. The day being Sunday, ordinarily +he would have thought nothing of it, but disturbing things were +happening every day now and Instinct and Caution were riding close to +his saddle-bow. He had the sense of living on the thin crust of a +simmering volcano. He couldn't distinguish their faces, but he would be +willing to swear that the men belonged to the Double O outfit. + +Above the roar of the stream as it made its way through the canyon formed +by the bluff he heard another sound. There was no mistaking it. Steve +had heard the curious whirr of a plane too often not to recognize it +now. It was not uncommon to have one pass over the Double O, but for +some unaccountable reason Courtlandt linked this one to those two +skulking figures at the foot of the bluff. He heard its approach for +some minutes before it came in sight above the hill which he knew was +back of the B C ranch. + +"That's queer! Looks as though it came out of Buzzard's Hollow," he +muttered as he watched the approaching aeroplane. He focussed his +glasses on the men again. They were waving something. Something white. +As though in answer to the signal the huge mechanical bird went +wing-over-wings and slid gracefully into a barrel-roll, then sailed off +into the distance. When Courtlandt's eyes returned from their journey +with the plane the two men had disappeared. + +Motionless, deep in thought, Steve sat his horse. What baneful force was +at work on the ranch? Calves had vanished as completely as though +conjured into thin air, curiously enough, though they were the least +valuable in the herd. The man who had taken them couldn't know much +about cattle. Some of the boys appeared surly and disgruntled. The stand +he had taken on the alien question couldn't account for it all. The +trouble had started a few weeks after his arrival at the ranch. He had +expected that Ranlett would resent having a much younger man than +himself in possession, but he had looked for no such series of +complications as had presented themselves. + +The situation had one compensating side. He had been too occupied with +Double O affairs to have much time for Jerry. He said something under +his breath. Blue Devil nosed round at him inquiringly. Courtlandt looked +at the sun and touched the horse lightly with his heels. It was time to +meet her now. To-day they were resuming a custom that Nicholas Fairfax +had inaugurated, which was to have luncheon beside the stream on Sunday. +Old Nick, young Nick he was then, had announced that the ceremony would +stand for church, that he would worship God through nature. He and Doc +Rand had provided the fish which were cooked on forked sticks over a +fire on the bank of the stream. The work-logged physician's weekly +holiday came to be respected in Slippy Bend. Men, women and children +endured to the limit before they would disturb the doctor's fishing +trip. + +Opposite the rendezvous Courtlandt drew rein and looked across the +stream. Benson, on his knees on the pebbly beach, was struggling with a +fire. He was in khaki riding clothes. A small book protruded from his +hip pocket. Steve smiled. To think of Tommy without a book would be like +thinking of an elephant without his trunk. Beyond the firemaker a spring +bubbled out of the bank in a clear, pure stream, above him the land +sloped smoothly, greenly up to a clump of cottonwoods. In the middle of +the clearing knelt Jerry. A lovely Jerry in riding coat and breeches, +hatless, with millions of golden motes glinting in her hair where the +sunlight rested. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glowed with +friendliness as she talked eagerly with the man who knelt on the other +side of the cloth spread between them. + +Bruce Greyson! Steve's jaws set ominously. The owner of the X Y Z was +passing something to the girl and it seemed to the prejudiced eyes of +the looker-on that their fingers touched and lingered. The two had +evidently been preparing the feast, for with a satisfied nod Jerry sank +back on her heels. She made a megaphone of her hands and called: + +"Coo-e-e! Coo-e-e-e!" + +From around a bend of the river came an answering shout. In spite of the +unaccountable fury which the sight of Greyson in just that spot had +roused in Courtlandt, he laughed as his eyes rested on the figure which +came splashing down the middle of the stream. It was Doc Rand attired in +his usual ministerial black frock coat, with the unusual addition of hip +boots of rubber. The effect of the combination would have tickled the +risibilities of a stoic, if a stoic has the luck to be blessed with +risibilities. A fish basket was slung from one shoulder, his white hair +bushed beneath the brim of his Stetson; the sun on his glasses added an +uncanny touch. His broad black tie, which he usually wore in a Byronic +bow, streamed back over his shoulders. He waved and shouted as +Courtlandt rode his horse down the bank and forded the stream. When +Steve reached the improvised table Greyson and Jerry sat at discreet +distances from it. + +"When did you get back, Bruce?" he asked as with cordial friendliness +the owner of the X Y Z sprang to his feet and gripped his extended hand. +In that instant Courtlandt saw that the whiteness of the hair about the +older man's temples was more noticeable, that it added to his fine, +upright air of distinction. + +"Yesterday. Brought my sister Paula, Vance, her husband, and a friend of +hers along. I want you all to dine with us to-morrow night. We'll show +these blown-in-the-glass New Yorkers that we are not entirely devoid of +the social graces even if we are not in the Dude-ranch neighborhood. Got +half-way to the Double O before I remembered that it was the old custom +to lunch here Sundays. You'll come, won't you?" + +"Come!" Jerry's eyes were starry with excitement. "Yes, thank--oh, what +beauties!" as Doc Rand puffed up the bank dangling a string of trout for +her inspection. + +"Take 'em, Steve. You and the Benson boy can cook 'em. Isn't that an +equitable division of labor, Mrs. Jerry? I caught them." He dropped to +the ground beside her and pulled off his hat. "These--these fishing +trips aren't what they were. I miss Nick," he confided as he mopped his +hot brow. Jerry's eyes were tender with sympathy. They wandered dreamily +to the illimitable spaces above the purple mountains as she asked +softly: + +"Where is he, Doctor Rand? Death is such a strange thing. I--I try to +keep a brave front to Peggy but--but I don't care to think about it." + +"Why should you at your age? All your thought should be on making your +life count for something. It is different with me. I find it profoundly +interesting to wonder and imagine what follows this world. For instance, +look at the question in this way. At this moment I can send my mind to +the Manor; in spirit I'm pacing the terrace with Sir Peter. I can see +the boats chugging up and down the river, can smell the queer fragrance +which the sun is baking out of the box hedge in the garden, can hear the +birds twittering among the vines. If I can do all that now, what will it +be when the spirit is not hampered by the body? It will be like flying, +won't it? That reminds me! Oh, Steve!" + +Courtlandt poked his head above the bank beneath which he and Benson +were cooking the fish. A tiny spiral of smoke rose and with it the aroma +of sizzling bacon and frying trout. + +"Did you see the plane that went over?" + +"Yes, Doc." + +"I wonder where it came from. It wasn't one of the government flyers. I +know their marks. Did you see the pilot do those stunts above the bluff? +Curious that he should pull off that cut-up stuff there, infernally +risky I call it. He couldn't have been doing it for my benefit. What do +you make of it, Steve?" + +"Probably some crazy, reckless flier getting ready for a contest," +Courtlandt observed, and disappeared below the bank. + +Doc Hand and Greyson left directly after luncheon. Benson packed the +basket which some of the boys would take back to the ranch before he +rode off to Upper Farm on an errand for Courtlandt. Steve helped Jerry +mount and swung into the saddle. The girl tightened her rein then held +up an arresting finger. + +"Listen! The Kreutzer Sonata," she whispered. + +From somewhere up-stream came the notes of a violin. There was a rare +brightness, an aerial quality to the music that most artists take too +gravely. The variations of the slow movements gave the sense of a +glorified voice. Jerry drew a long, tremulous breath as the last note +died away. + +"That must have been the Man of Mystery," she confided in a low voice, +as though fearful even at that distance of disturbing the musician. "I +don't care if he did drop from the sky, if he never receives letters, he +plays like--like an angel--if angels can play," with a laugh. Courtlandt +looked up-stream as though mystified. + +"I knew a man who played that sonata, just like that, but--but it can't +possibly be he. Who did you say you thought it was?" + +"Bill Small, the range-rider at the B C. Mrs. Carey told me about him +when I called there yesterday. She said that the boys of the Double O +and X Y Z outfits trailed over there every chance they could get to hear +him play. That reminds me," her beautiful face glowed with enthusiasm, +"I--I wonder if--if the boys of our outfit would care to have me play +and sing for them? I should so love to do it." + +"Care! I know they would. Pete says that they line up outside the court +wall after dinner on the chance of hearing you sing." + +"Really--really, Steve? I'd rather have that tribute than--than my name +in electric lights on the Great White Way. Ask them up this afternoon. +We'll have an honest-to-goodness musicale with Signora Geraldina +Courtlandta as head-liner. Hurry!" She touched her horse with her heels. +"It's a pity that Bruce Greyson didn't wait. He----" + +"Your proposition was to sing for the Double O outfit. Greyson doesn't +come in on that." + +"Ogre! I can hear my bones scrunch between those strong white teeth of +yours when you look at me like that." + +"Then remember that you're married." + +"Are you sure that the ceremony wasn't a dream?" with a provocative +ripple of laughter. "Do you know, Steve, somehow I never can think of +you as Benedick the married man. You--you are such a good-looking boy." +She was the incarnation of girlish diablerie indulging an irresistible +desire to torment. The color burned to Courtlandt's temples. He caught +the bridle and drew Patches close. His eyes compelled Jerry's. + +"Do you know what happens to a person who rocks a boat, Mrs. +Courtlandt?" he demanded autocratically. + +"Do you know what happens when a person gets unbearably dictatorial, Mr. +Courtlandt? This!" She slapped her horse smartly on the hip. Patches +threw up his head and broke from Steve's hold. The girl looked over her +shoulder. Lips and eyes challenged in unison as she sang mischievously: + + "'My road calls me, lures me + West, east, south and north; + Most roads lead me homewards, + But my road leads----'" + +Patches stepped in a gopher hole, which, feat brought the song to an +abrupt termination. + +When she met him in the late afternoon on the terrace which overlooked +the court Jerry was as coolly friendly as though the little +passage-at-arms, which had left Steve's pulses hammering, had never +taken place. The piano had been moved out and the outfit, in its Sunday +best, occupied the rustic seats and benches and overflowed to the turf +paths. The girl felt choky as the men rose to greet her. They looked so +big and fine, so like eager, wistful boys. She smiled at them through a +mist. + +"I'll sing what I think you'll like, then you must ask for anything you +want. Please smoke," she added, as she realized what it was that had +made them seem so unfamiliar. They looked from her to Steve. He nodded. +With delighted grins they dropped back to their places and proceeded +with the business of rolling cigarettes. + +Courtlandt and Benson took their places on the edge of the terrace. +Overhead the sky spread like a flawless turquoise; cameoed against the +blue were snow-tipped mountains. The court was gay and fragrant with +blossoms. In the dark shadow of the open doorway Ming and Hopi Soy made +a patch of Oriental brilliance. Jerry in her filmy pink frock looked not +unlike a flower herself, against the rosewood background of the raised +piano top, Courtlandt thought. He looked from her to the rapt, +weather-browned faces of his men. His gaze came back and rested in +fascinated interest on her foot in its pink slipper on the pedal of the +instrument. + +Jerry sang as she had never sung before, ballads, rollicking melodies. +The men drew nearer. When she stopped a swarthy Italian stepped as near +the piano as the terrace would permit. His black eyes seemed too big for +his thin face, his plastered-down hair suggested infinite labor with +brush and pomade. + +"What is it, Tony?" Jerry asked with a smile. + +"Hava you the one grand opera song?" he asked shyly. Jerry was +nonplussed. She had not thought of opera for these men. As she turned +over her music she asked: + +"You like opera, Tony?" + +"Vera much, Signora. At home we taka the leetle seester to grand opera +even if we have not mucha to eat. We feel that eef the leetle seester +hear great music, she be fine lady, not common, not bad--never." His +earnest voice broke as he realized that he was being stared at in +amazement by the outfit. He mumbled an apology and hurried back to his +seat. With a smile at Tony, Jerry placed Tales of Hoffmann on the rack. +She sang the Barcarole. As the exquisite, langorous notes floated out +over the court the shadows lengthened, the sun dropped behind the +mountains. There was no applause when she finished, no one was smoking, +the men sat motionless. Where were their thoughts, the girl wondered. +With a glance at the crimsoning foot-hills she struck a few chords and +sang softly: + + "'Day is dying in the west; + Heaven is touching earth with rest; + Wait and worship while the night + Sets her evening lamps alight + Thro' all the sky.'" + +With the second verse the men took up the song. To most of them it +brought a vivid picture of mother and home and the village church at +sunset. They sang until with the last line mountains and foot-hills took +up the words and sent them pealing into space. + +That closed the musicale. One by one the men came forward and thanked +Jerry as she stood between Courtlandt and Benson. As the last one left +the court Tommy turned to the girl. + +"I'll say that was a wonderful thing to do, Mrs. Steve." With a quick +change of tone he spoke to Courtlandt. "Marks and Schoeffleur weren't +here; did you miss them?" + +"Would you expect them to be here?" + +"I should have expected it until to-day. Ever since Marks blew in here +from nowhere two months ago I've been wondering where the dickens I'd +seen him. When that airplane passed over to-day memory flipped into +place the missing piece of the puzzle. He was a mechanician at the +hangar where I tried to develop wings in 1917." + +"You are sure of that, Tommy?" + +"Sure as shootin'. What's up? Why that 'Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell the +blood of an Englishman' scowl, old dear?" + +"Nothing, except that your information confirms me in my suspicion that +Marks and Schoeffleur signaled to that pilot when he went over." + + "'And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew + That one small head could carry all he knew,'" + +contributed Benson in mock amazement. + +Up from the corral floated a chorus of men's voices singing: + + "'Wait and worship while the night + Sets her evening lamps alight + Thro' all the sky.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Courtlandt's fine brow puckered in a thoughtful crease as he waited in +the living-room of the Double O for Jerry the next evening. Benson, on +the arm of a chair, bent forward to get the light from the lamp on the +book he had picked up. Through the open windows came the scent of pine +and dewy fields, the murmur of the distant stream as it thundered and +rippled its never-ending triumphal march to the sea, the occasional soft +lowing of cattle. + +Jerry had been tremendously pleased and excited over Greyson's +invitation to dine, Steve thought as he lighted a cigarette and blew the +smoke toward Goober. The dog was regarding him with an air of watchful +waiting. Was he to be invited to jump on the running-board of the +automobile which stood in the drive outside the front door? Courtlandt +remembered as clearly as though it had been yesterday what she had +answered the first night they met when he had asked her if she liked the +city. He could see her eyes now with their golden lights, hear her +musical voice: + +"I love it. It is so big, so beautiful, so faulty. I--I like people; I +should starve for companionship, not food, in a wilderness." + +And this was the girl who had been on the Double O ranch for over three +months and not a person outside it, except Doc Rand and some neighboring +ranchmen, had she seen before she made the trip to the B C. He had been +too busy to think of it before and--and he had intentionally kept out of +her way. He had thought that he had his course set to avoid danger, but +he had come mighty near going to pieces on an uncharted rock yesterday. +He tossed away his cigarette as Jerry's door opened. He took an +involuntary step forward, then thrust his hands into his pockets. Lord, +how impellingly beautiful she was! Her gold-color gown, all film where +it wasn't glistening paillettes, was as simple as the most expensive +modiste in New York could make it. Her lovely arms were bare. The ranch +life had deepened the coloring of her face and throat till her shoulders +looked startlingly white in contrast. Steve noted, with a surge of +primitive triumph, that the only jewels she wore were a string of softly +gleaming pearls and her wedding ring. Sir Peter had given her the pearls +when she was married. They had been worn by his wife and before that by +his mother. Steve heard Tommy give vent to a sound that was a cross +between a swallow and a gasp before he struck an attitude and +paraphrased theatrically: + + "But soft! What light through yonder doorway breaks? + It is the east and Juliet is the sun." + +Jerry laughed and blew him a kiss. Her teeth rivaled in beauty the +pearls below them. Ming Soy, more rice-papery than ever in the +resplendent embroideries she wore in the evening, followed the girl from +her room with a shimmering wrap over her arm. + +"Were you casting aspersions on the brilliancy of my costume, Mr. Tommy +Benson? This is the first invitation I have received to dine since I +left the metropolis and I acknowledge I have splurged. Do--do you like +me, Steve?" Her attitude was demure but her smile was adorably +mischievous. Courtlandt's eyes flamed, then smoldered. + +"You'll do," with an edge of sarcasm. He hated himself as he saw her +smile fade. Oh, why the dickens couldn't they have met--Tommy swept into +the breach: + +"Oh boy, hear the lady, Steve. 'Will I do?' just as though she didn't +know that + + "'Alack there lies more peril in thine eyes + Than twenty of their swords.'" + +"_Gracias, senor!_ Alas, if it weren't for you, Tommy, I should go down +to my grave unwept, unhonored and unsung. Now that you have fully +absorbed the glory of my raiment hold my cloak for me, that's a dear. +Now this maline over my hair. I don't wish to appear before the guests +from the effete East like a Meg Merriles." + +"You couldn't," encouraged Benson fervently. "You'd----" + +"Let's go!" cut in Courtlandt sharply, and led the way to the +automobile. He sent the leaping, barking dog back with a curt command +which caused Goober to regard him in drooping, tawny-eyed reproach. He +took the wheel of the roadster. He kept his eyes resolutely on the road +as he drove though he felt as though a magnet of the nth power was +drawing his eyes to the girl who snuggled down between him and Benson. +At the door of the X Y Z ranch-house Greyson met them. + +"It's mighty good of you all to come." His voice was nervous, hurried. + +"Good of us! Bruce, you're a public benefactor. You're a candidate for a +specially designed, specially gilded halo. Do you realize what a risk +you have taken introducing me to your city friends? It is so long since +I have dined in state that I am quite capable of committing some +horrible social blunder." + +Steve's anger flared. Why did she have to admit to Greyson that she had +been bored? It was still flickering as he entered the big living-room, a +room lined with books from floor to ceiling, with color only in the +crimson rug and heavy hangings. + +"You see I've come to help you bear your exile, Steve!" greeted a +laughing voice. Jerry and Tommy, who had preceded Courtlandt, turned +involuntarily. He met the girl's startled eyes. He reddened furiously +before he turned to answer the golden-haired woman who had stepped from +behind a screen. + +"Felice! Where did you come from?" His tone was dazed and strugglingly +cordial. + +"Have you lost both manners and memory, Stevie? You haven't offered to +shake hands; you have apparently forgotten that I wrote you that while +he was at the Manor Mr. Greyson discovered that I had been at school +with his sister. Paula has come out for the summer and brought me with +her. I adore the ranch. Steve, we'll have some rides that will make +those we used to have take on a pale anemic blue." She linked her arm +within his and smiled up at him beguilingly. + +"Hmp, vamp-stuff!" Courtlandt heard Tommy confide to Jerry before he +disengaged his arm from Mrs. Denbigh's clasp and reminded: + +"Have you seen Mrs. Courtlandt, Felice? Jerry, you remember Mrs. +Denbigh?" + +"Perfectly. She is one of those persons one never forgets. Mrs. Denbigh, +may I present Mr. Benson? Mr. Greyson, back up your statement, show me +that Hopi saddle-blanket which you claimed yesterday had Uncle Nick's +licked to a finish. That phrase is your bit of choice Americana, not +mine, remember." + +Steve's eyes followed Jerry as she moved away with her host. There was a +slightly scornful tilt to her lips. Greyson looked as though he had been +caught stealing sheep, he decided. Was there a sinister undercurrent at +the X Y Z as well as a Double O? If there were he'd get to the bottom of +that, too. Regardless of Benson's proximity he burst out: + +"Why did you intimate that I had been corresponding with you, Felice?" + +The woman's super decollete frock was no greener than her eyes, her +elaborately coiffured yellow hair glittered; it hadn't the satiny sheen +of Jerry's; her hands were frosty with diamonds. Even her laugh had a +metallic ring as she answered: + +"What a literal person you are, Stevie. Have you been bitten with the +nothing-but-the-truth mania? Can't I interest you in a saddle-blanket? +It makes an excellent smoke-screen for a tete-a-tete." Her laugh tinkled +maliciously as she nodded toward the corner where her host stood with +Jerry Courtlandt. Steve deliberately turned his back and inquired +irrelevantly: + +"How was little ol' New York when you left, Felice?" + +It wasn't to be wondered at that Jerry liked people, people so evidently +adored her, Courtlandt thought as coffee was being served in the +living-room after dinner. Paula Vance, who though no older than Felice +Denbigh, already showed symptoms of middle-age curves, was officiating +behind the massive silver tray with its rare, antique appointments. Her +husband, with those three unmistakable L's, liquor, lobster and leisure +writ large on his portly person from his terraced chin to his shining +patent leathers, Greyson and Benson were listening to Jerry as, with +eyes like stars, cheeks flushed, she sat at the piano. She played a low, +rippling accompaniment as, in answer to a question from her host, she +gave an account of her visit to Bear Creek ranch. Felice Denbigh also +had her eyes on the group. She divided her attention between it and her +coffee. Her light lashes swept her cheeks as she tapped her cigarette +against her thumb-nail and drawled: + +"Better give young Benson his time, Steve. Isn't that ranch parlance for +discharge? He's in love with Mrs. Courtlandt." The man beside her +reddened angrily. + +"Don't bring your tainted ideas out into this clean, glorious country, +Felice. Benson is----" he broke off to watch Greyson's Jap, a little man +with a face like the mask of tragedy who was speaking to Jerry. + +"Are you sure that he said Mrs. Courtlandt?" Steve heard her ask in +surprise. Then as the man reiterated his message she excused herself to +the men about her and left the room. Tommy looked after her anxiously +before his eyes flashed to Steve. The latter gave an imperceptible nod +and with a murmured excuse to Felice followed Jerry. As he stepped to +the porch he saw the golden gleam of the girl's gown at the farther end. +She was talking earnestly with a man, a man who was holding a saddled +horse. The moon shone down upon the animal's wet sides; he had evidently +been ridden hard. What did it mean? Had Glamorgan, by any chance, sent +for his daughter? As he strode toward them he heard the girl say +breathlessly: + +"No! No! Don't wait! Ride as fast as you can. I'll get there some way." + +"Jerry!" in his anxiety Steve sent his voice ahead of him. At the sound +the man leaped to the horse's back and galloped away into the dusk of +the road. The girl strained her eyes after him before she turned. + +"There is something queer about that man, Steve; he is a man of +mystery," she confided as though Courtlandt's materialization out of the +dark was quite what she expected. + +"What did he want?" + +"He wanted me. Don't look so incredulous. I may be an acquired taste +like olives but--some people like me." She abandoned her teasing tone +and hurried on, "That man is the range-rider at Bear Creek ranch. Mrs. +Carey has been taken suddenly ill, there,--there is a baby coming, you +know, Steve. He wanted me to go to her. Her husband is away. They +haven't had a telephone put in and it may take hours to get the doctor +and nurse from town, he may not be able to get them at all and so--and +so he asked me to go and stay with her until he could get help." + +"But you can't go, girl, at this time of night." + +"Oh, yes, I can, Steve. I'm going. Please ask Tommy to drive me. We'll +make better time going in the machine even by the roundabout wagon road. +If I rode I'd have to go home first and change my clothes. He can come +back for you. Hurry!" + +"Back for me! Do you think you go off this ranch to-night with anyone +but me? It's rank folly for you to go----" + +She caught the lapel of his coat and looked up at him with dewy eyes. + +"Suppose,--suppose that it were I, Steve----" + +Even in the dim light he could see the soft color steal to her hair. He +turned away with a sharp: + +"Get your wrap while I go for the car, and give Benson his orders. He'll +have to keep a date for me." + +The star-spangled night was clear and still as Courtlandt slowed down in +front of the Bear Creek ranch-house. The girl beside him shivered as she +looked at the lighted windows. He laid one hand on hers. + +"Steady, little girl, steady. You won't be able to help if you lose your +nerve." + +"I know, Steve, I'll be all right as soon as I get busy. I have never +seen----" She sprang from the car and ran up the path, her golden gown +gleaming in the dim light. As she opened the door Courtlandt heard a +sound which sent him from the car. He couldn't sit still. Lips set he +paced back and forth, back and forth while a voice inside his head, +which didn't seem his voice at all, kept repeating, "Suppose--just +suppose it were I, Steve?" + +Other thoughts crowded in upon him as he paced like a sentinel, a +sentinel in dinner clothes, before the little house. The dawn crept +slowly up in the east spraying the dark sky overhead with gorgeousness. +It transformed the world into the fairyland of the pantomimes of his +boyhood, a world full of magic passwords and talismans. He almost +expected to see a shimmering, masked Harlequin tap on the cabin door +with his supple wand and a dainty Columbine pirouette out in response. + +Whatever it might be outside, there was no illusion behind that closed +door. It was raw reality. What wonders women were, some of them, Steve +amended. He thought of the girls with whom he had dined and danced in +the last two years. Many of them sensation-seeking privateers. Was it +after-war reaction which made them so recklessly, flagrantly determined +in their attempts to lure? They had succeeded only in repelling him but +they had plenty of victims. How they crackled the glaze of their +reputations. How they married and unmarried, those people whom he knew, +and with what tragic consequences to their children. Felice was a +product of the atmosphere in which she lived. He realized now that she +would have no scruples in coming between him and the girl he had married +if she could. A fragment from Kant which had been the text for a college +theme teased at the tip Of his tongue. He had it! "No one of us can do +that, which if done by all, will destroy society." If this divorce +business kept up it would destroy society. Did luxurious social life +breed inconstancy of purpose, contempt of covenants? + +As though in answer to his question came a vision of Jerry as she had +knelt beside Old Nick's bed. He could see her face, the hint of tears +under the steadiness of her gaze, hear her voice as she repeated +reverently the marriage service. + +She would keep her marriage vow at any cost to herself, Courtlandt +thought, no matter how she might care for someone else. She was the sort +of woman who would stand the wear and tear of daily companionship, +making allowance for a man's moods but never knuckling to them. She'd +bring him up with a round turn, but she'd laugh while she did it. He +couldn't imagine her irritable or fretty or snappy. She had the saving +grace of humor. If women could only learn the persuasive value of a +laugh as against tears or sulks how many marriages would be saved from +the scrap-heap. After all, any poor dumb-bell could get married; it was +staying married which proved one's metal. + +The color overhead spread with increasing beauty. The last friendly star +high up above a mountain twinkled out. Somewhere toward the barns a +shrill-voiced, enterprising cock "hailed the smiling morn." A curl of +smoke rose lazily from the cabin chimney. The sun shot up through a +fleece of clouds; it painted the fields and sloping hillside with +radiance. A horse whinnied in the corral, a light breeze sprang up and +brought with it the odor of barns, the strong scent of wool. From the +road came the labored breathing of a flivver. + +"Thank God, someone's coming!" Courtlandt thought. He looked toward the +cabin, transformed in the morning light into a habitation of gold. As he +looked the lights in the windows went out. What was Jerry doing? Could +he have helped? A flivver rattled up and stopped. In the exuberance of +his relief Steve opened the door of the car before either of the +occupants had a chance. "Mother" Egan, a portly woman whose clothing +suggested a starch and soap advertisement, it was so immaculate and +standoutish, nodded as she stepped heavily out. Her face beamed with +kindliness and sympathetic understanding as she lumbered up to the door. +Doc Rand regarded Courtlandt with an incredulous grin: + +"For the love of Mike, Steve, what you doing here? This isn't your +party----" with a hardened chuckle. + +"Cut out the comedy, Doc. I brought Mrs. Courtlandt over to stay until +you came. For God's sake get in there and stop those sounds. Send Jerry +out." + +"What you say goes, Steve. Out she comes. Run the flivver round to the +barn, will you? I'm likely to stay here most of the day." + +Worn black bag in hand he disappeared inside the house. As Steve started +the car a horseman galloped into sight on the road. He stopped his horse +with a suddenness that threw the animal back on his haunches, then, +after an instant's hesitation he went on toward the huddle of buildings. +Steve looked after him curiously. Was he Jerry's Man of Mystery? He +deliberately followed the horseman. When he dismounted Steve shut off +his engine and jumped to the ground. The rider turned. Steve stared. + +"Phil Denbigh!" he exclaimed incredulously. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +The two men faced each other silently. The morning light accentuated the +lines on Denbigh's thin, ascetic face, revealed the brooding sorrow in +his eyes. After his involuntary halt of surprise Courtlandt sprang +forward with outstretched hand. + +"Phil, old scout, it's good to see you! But--but what the dickens are +you doing here? I know Jim Carey but you're--not----" + +"The same. I'm Bill Small, range-rider of the Bear Creek outfit, which +extensive outfit consists at present of the owner and yours truly. It +has taken some dexterity to keep out of your way, Steve. Your Uncle Nick +got me the job. Curious that I should have turned to him in my despair, +but--but he was the first person I thought of. I had heard Mother rail +about his caustic tongue. I concluded if she thought that, he must have +a keen sense of justice and fair-dealing. Mrs. Carey thinks that I +dropped from the air or any old place. Jim went away three days ago and +left me in charge. We didn't think that this--this--was coming so soon. +My first thought when Mrs. Carey called me last evening was to get hold +of the nearest woman and--and Mrs. Courtlandt seemed to be it. I went +to your ranch, first and they sent me on to the X Y Z." + +"I can't make you seem real yet, Phil. I'm dazed with the succession of +surprises. Saturday, Beechy, my late sergeant walked in and----" + +"Beechy!" + +"Say, 'The Devil!' and be done with it, that's what your tone implied. +What do you know about Carl Beechy?" + +"I've run across him in Slippy Bend. A regular fella with the ladies, +isn't he?" + +"So that's it! I'll have to admit that Carl is an easy mark with the +fair sex, but he's all there when it comes to fighting. I wanted to keep +him at the Double O, but he insisted that he must keep his contract with +the railroad." + +"Oh, he did. You're fond of Beechy, Steve?" + +"He saved my life, Phil. I was as sure of the man's loyalty as I was +that the sun would rise in the morning." + +"Have patience, Steve, you'll get him back. Sadder and wiser, perhaps a +bit damaged, but you'll get him back." + +"Damaged! What do you mean?" + +"Nothing specific. I'm judging from what I've seen the railroads do. I +hear Ranlett has left you. Take it from me, you're in luck." + +"I'll say you're right. I haven't had a chance to talk it over with +Greyson yet; he came back from the East only a few days ago. Uncle Nick +relied on his judgment. Good Lord!"--as remembrance of the evening +before flashed clear in his mind, "do you know who came with him? +Your--your wife." + +Denbigh leisurely lighted a cigarette and as leisurely drew a long whiff +of it. + +"My wife! I haven't a wife. Felice will have her divorce in a few +months. Desertion. Mamma Peyton's master-mind directed the campaign. +Trust an old-timer like her to know the ropes. Felice didn't love me +when she married me; she merely contracted a virulent attack of the +war-marriage epidemic. I found that out when you came home. I'm through +with women, Steve, that is until I've proved myself a man whose sense of +right and justice can't be twisted by them. If I hadn't been weak Mother +couldn't have--oh, why go into it? It wasn't her fault; life had been +too easy for her; she couldn't bear to be hurt. Well, she has lost me as +effectually as though I had been shot to pieces in the Argonne where so +many of my friends lie. The effects of gas and shot and shell aren't in +it with the intolerable sense of shame which a man, who didn't do his +best to get into the war, will carry through the years. God knows, I'm +paying for my weakness. Don't mind this outburst, Steve. Forget it! +You're the first person I've seen from home. It--it just surged out." + +He leaned his head upon his horse's neck. The animal which had been +pawing impatiently settled into bronze immobility at his touch. Only his +sensitive nostrils quivered. Courtlandt laid a sympathetic hand on +Denbigh's shoulder. His voice was unsteady as he protested: + +"You're torturing yourself unnecessarily, Phil. The world has almost +forgotten----" + +"I haven't, Steve, but we'll let it go at that. Don't let Felice know +that I am here. When she gets her divorce----" + +"But, Phil, can't you and she patch things up? Divorce is a hard thing +for a woman to live down." + +"Not in our set. Good Lord, man, Felice thinks no more of it than she +would of discarding an unbecoming gown. It's in her blood. It's in mine. +Her mother had changed husbands once before Felice was born. Mine +changed hers when he was young and unsuccessful. She had the money. When +the Fates want to hand it to a man good and plenty they marry him to a +girl who has slathers more money than he has." Steve's face whitened. +"Was that a door closing? Go quick, Steve. If it is Mrs. Courtlandt I +don't want her to see me. Don't tell her who I am." He seized his horse +by the bridle and vanished into the barn. + +Steve met Jerry beside his car. His jaw set in the manner dreaded by his +father as he looked at the girl's face. It was white with violet shadows +under the wide, strained eyes. Her exquisite frock was torn where she +had caught it on a hook. A long angry burn was visible on the wrist +which the sleeve of her wrap didn't cover. Her lips quivered +traitorously as she saw Steve's eyes on it. She hastily concealed it +behind her back with a valiant attempt at a laugh. + +"It's nothing. I hoped that it would escape your ruthless managerial +eye. I tried to heat water and I'm not used to a kitchen range. In fact, +I don't know what I can do that's vitally useful. When--when I go back +to civilization I shall take a course in nursing, then I won't be so +absolutely useless at a time like this." Her voice was pitched in a key +of nervous excitement, and she shivered as she spoke. + +"Come here!" Courtlandt's face was as white as the girl's as he picked +her up in his arms and put her into the car. He drew her wrap closer +about her shoulders and tucked a light robe about her knees. She sat +there tense, unresponsive, but as he started the car she suddenly +relaxed with a stifled sob and covered her face with her hands. Steve +stopped the car. With quiet determination he put his arm about her. + +"Cry it out, child," he encouraged tenderly. When the storm broke he +wondered if he had been wise in the recommendation. He was frightened at +the tempest of sobs which shook the slender body. He tightened his arm. +Then after a few moments, "Was it as bad as that, girl?" + +She sat up with a start and drew as far away from him as the limited +space would permit. He laid his arm across the back of the seat. She +pushed the hair from her forehead and looked up at him through drenched +eyes. + +"Bad!" she controlled a shudder. "Bad only because I was so powerless to +help. An angel from heaven wouldn't have looked as good to me as Doc +Rand." There was an hysterical note of laughter in her voice as she +continued, "He must have thought I had gone suddenly mad for when he +opened the door I flew at him and kissed him." She made furtive dabs at +her eyes. "Don't think that I'm constitutionally a cry-baby," she +laughed up at Courtlandt shamefacedly. He turned away from her quickly, +removed his arm from the back of the seat and started the car. + +"Now that you've got your grip again we'll go on. I'm famished," he +announced prosaically. + +"Now that I think of it, so am I," she agreed with gay camaraderie, but +her breath came in a little sob as a child's might after crying, +"and--and so are they! Look, Steve! Over on that hillside--look!" + +She gripped his arm with one hand as she pointed with the other. On the +top of a low hill, outlined like shadow pictures against the morning +sky, so near that their hanging tongues were plainly visible, were three +dark, sinister shapes. + +"Coyotes?" the girl whispered as though even at that distance they might +hear. + +"Timber wolves. See those sheep grazing in the coulee below? They are +after them." + +"Oh, Steve, can't we do something?" + +For answer Courtlandt reached into the pocket of the car and drew his +automatic. The shots rang through the morning quiet, the echoes +ricochetted back from the hills. The sheep kicked up their heels and +scampered off. The wolves stood like creatures of stone for an instant, +then slowly, quite without panic, turned and disappeared over the brow +of the hill. Jerry shivered. + +"Wolves! I thought you were rid of them in this country." + +"We are almost. Occasionally the boys bring in reports of the trail of a +wolf or a mountain lion. We have a pest of coyotes though, this year. If +you want to insult a ranchman or cowboy to fighting mad, call him a +coyote; it means the most despicable creature in the animal world. +They're cowards. If that bunch of sheep turned and faced a coyote they +would terrify him." + +"Ranch life is just one problem after another, isn't it?" + +"No more than any life which is packed with interest." + +"My mistake! Didn't the little boy want his little ranch found fault +with? Then he shan't be teased." + +As he turned and looked at her she caught her breath, colored richly and +apologized. "Don't mind me, Steve. The sudden release from +responsibility and the elixir of the morning air have gone to my head. +I'll be good, really I will. Did you see the Man of Mystery? I--I +somehow have a feeling that he may know something of the missing +calves." + +"You're wrong. He's all right, he's doing a man's job--_he_ isn't +troubling me but--but I wish I knew what Beechy had up his sleeve. What +had he said to you before I came in that day in the office?" with quick +suspicion. His tone sent the color flying to the girl's hair. + +"Why--why--nothing--but----" + +"Don't perjure yourself," dryly. "Much as I think of Carl I'm not blind +to his ways with women. He couldn't have been unbearably raw or you +wouldn't have shaken hands with him, would you? I--didn't like his eyes +when he said he had work on the railroad." + +"Steve, you are developing nerves; your imagination is running wild. One +would think that we were back in the days of armed bandits, when masked +men held up trains at the point of a gun. That isn't done now, you +know," with gay patronage. + +"Perhaps--look up on the hill! The boys are bringing down the horses." + +The girl's eyes followed his pointing finger. Nose to tail, close herded +by riders, the animals trailed toward the corral after their night of +feeding in the hillside pastures. They tossed their manes, they made +sportive attempts to escape their keepers. + +"How well our boys ride." Steve's pulses responded to that possessive +"our." + +"They ought to. They are as near old-timers as can be found now. The +Double O was Uncle Nick's master-passion. He took up the land when it +was the ranchman's paradise, in the years before fence-posts and barbed +wire, when cowboys packed guns and drank and gambled away their pay. He +adapted himself with amazing success to changing conditions though, and +hung on to all the real boys whom he could tempt with pay and the pride +of raising thoroughbreds." + +As Courtlandt stopped the car in front of the ranch-house, the door was +flung open and a girl ran down the steps. Jerry stared incredulously. +"Peggy! Peggy!" she was out of the car in a flash and had her sister in +her arms. Steve heard one more muffled "Peggy!" before the two entered +the house. The surprise following so close upon her night's vigil might +be too much for Jerry, he feared. When Peg had written him and begged +him to keep her coming a surprise he had weakly consented. He had +intended to meet her train but had had to delegate Tommy to take his +place. + +Jerry had quite recovered her poise when she appeared for breakfast in +the court. If there was a trace of _vibrato_ in her voice only +Courtlandt noticed it. She and Peg had stopped talking long enough to +get two hours' sleep. Overhead the sky spread like a Della Robbia glaze, +the atmosphere was so clear that the snow-tipped mountains seemed +reachable. A tractor in a distant field sounded but a few feet away. The +air was sweet with the fragrance of roses, the fountain tinkled +musically. Benito, yellow eyes blinking, his gay plumage ruffled till he +looked like an animated feather-duster, sidled round and round the rim +of the basin. + +Peggy regarded her sister with elfish, hazel eyes as she took her seat +at the table. + +"Ye gods, Jerry, but I'm glad to see you clothed and in your right mind. +That green skirt and sweater is a little bit of all right and I'm crazy +about your frills; they make me think of the soap-suds you see in the +demonstration electric washers, they're so--so fleecy. When you drove up +in that vampish gold gown this morning I thought it must be the custom +of the country to breakfast in evening clothes and I could have wept. +I'd been disillusioned enough. I thought that every honest-to-goodness +he-man on a ranch wore chaps and tore about with his six-shooter +'spittin' death and damnation,' but the man who brought out my trunks +evidently has a passion for overalls, and Mr. Benson met me at the train +looking like a model of the Well-Dressed Man." + +Her sister laughed. + +"You've been reading Zane Gray et als. Please understand that we are +ultra civilized on this ranch after six o'clock." + +"Then you'll eat up my news. That smitten salesman of yours at Tiffany's +told me before I left New York that he was on the trail of the +Alexandrite ring you'd been wanting. It belonged to one of the late +royalties. He says that it is a wonder, beautifully set and only two +thousand dollars! You'd better write him about it. Of course he can't +hold it indefinitely." + +"Two thousand dollars!" Jerry regretted the shocked exclamation as soon +as it left her lips. She glanced furtively at Steve. His eyes, clear and +clean and shining from his out-of-door life, disconcertingly direct, met +hers. She looked away hastily. "I'm--I'm not buying jewels now, Peg." + +"You're not! Growing miserly in your old age, Geraldine?" with +patronizing surprise. "You've been talking of that Alexandrite for----" + +"Will you ride the range with your ancient brother-in-law this morning, +Peg-o'-my-heart?" broke in Courtlandt. "We'll have lunch at Upper Farm." + +"I'll say I'd love it. Will you come, Jerry?" + +"No, I have work to do. Behold your erstwhile humble sister the private +secretary of the owner of Double O ranch," with laughing empressement. + +"Don't work. Sleep, or ride with Peg," cut in Steve sharply. "Remember +you were out all night." + +"O King Live Forever!" mocked Geraldine gayly. "Just as though I hadn't +danced all night many a time and ridden in the park all morning. I +shall----" + +"Pete Glellish tlell you dat Ranlett make bad pidgin in Lower Flield," +interrupted Ming Soy's soft voice at Courtlandt's elbow. "He say, +'Hully--hully--hully!'" + +Steve sprang from his chair and caromed into Tommy Benson who had just +entered the court and stood beaming upon Peggy Glamorgan. + +"What, down already, Miss Peg? Methinks + + "'This morning, like the spirit of a youth + That means to be of note, begins betimes.' + +Why the glassy-eye and furrowed-brow effect, Steve? I hope that you've +left me a taste of the honey, Miss Glamorgan?" he reproached as he took +his place at the table beside the girl. + +"As soon as you've had a bite, Tommy, join me at Lower Field. Bring Peg +along. Jerry," Steve Courtlandt's voice was peremptory, "remember, no +work in the office and if you don't go with Peg and Tommy stay in sight +of the ranch-house if you ride. Don't expect me until you see me. I may +not be at home to-night." + +He didn't wait for her answer. In his own room he picked up a Colt 45, +spun the cylinder, slipped a box of cartridges into his pocket and +hurried to the side door. Gerrish, mounted on the big sorrel, held Blue +Devil by the bridle. Both horses were prancing nervously, for the +parrot, who had climbed to the gutter under the roof, was clucking and +calling: + +"Gid-dap! Go-long!" + +"That bird ought to be shot," Steve growled as with some difficulty he +mounted. "What's to pay now, Pete, Ranlett?" + +"You've got your rope on the right pair of horns this time, Chief. The +fences of Lower Field have been cut." + +"Toward the railroad?" + +"By cripes, no. Toward the mountains. If 't been the railroad side we +might have stood a chance of corralling the Shorthorns, but if they once +get into the mountains--Lord-ee, I believe yer uncle'll rise out of his +grave an' go after 'em. Them critters was the pride of his life. Ranlett +was a low-down dawg to turn a trick like this. Say, do you know anything +about thet range-rider at Bear Creek?" + +"Why--why--I've spoken to him. You don't suspect him of being in this +deal, do you?" + +"I ain't suspectin' nothin', but after I'd saw him twice talkin' to +Ranlett I sort of got his number." + +"You've got it wrong, then, Pete. I happen to know that the man is white +clear through." + +"Well, I ain't shootin' off my mouth careless when I say that the +range-rider's got somethin' up his sleeve. It's my best bet there's +going to be fifty-seven varieties of hell blowin' up round this ranch +before we get through. If you ask me, I'll say that the crime-wave +that's been lappin' the coast has swashed out here in a flood." + +"But, Pete, it's impossible for rustlers to get away with their old +stuff now." + +"You're shoutin', Chief, it sure is, but--they'll find some new ways. I +got it doped out your way too, but if it ain't rustlin', what fool thing +is that coyote Ranlett up to?" + +"Giving us a run for our cattle, I guess. Spite. How many boys can we +spare to round up the Shorthorns?" + +"I've sent fer the bunch. There's somethin' else phoney that I haven't +told yer. It's been open and shut in my mind whether I'd better." + +"Shoot, old-timer!" commanded Courtlandt curtly. + +"Well, since you fed Ranlett his time he's been moseyin' round Slippy +Bend. The other day when I rode over there to see Baldy Jennings, 'bout +shippin' them steer, I just naturally dropped into the Lazy Wolf. Our +late manager was settin' at a table with two girls and a man. It wasn't +my butt-in and I wouldn't have specially noticed the stranger if he +hadn't been makin' goo-goo eyes at one of the females out of all +proportion to her good looks. She hed----" + +"Let's pass up what she looked like. Who was the man?" + +"I didn't know then, but Saturday you brought the ol' son-of-a-gun of a +lady-killer to the bunk-house yourself. Savvy?" + +"You don't mean Beechy?" + +"Sorry, Chief, but he's the same. An' unless I'm locoed Ranlett's got +the feller's hide nailed to his stable door; he's got him an' he's got +him tight." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Bubbles the roan, own brother to Patches, and Peggy Glamorgan on his +back were radiant youth incarnate. The horse arched his graceful head as +though proudly conscious of the loveliness of his burden; the corded +muscles of shoulder, flank and leg flexed sensitively under his satin +skin with every move of his pliant body. The girl's sombrero had the +true ranchero tilt. Her khaki riding costume was as perfect a thing as +the cinema-fed imagination of a fashionable habit-maker could conceive; +it was only by exercising superhuman restraint that he had refrained +from adding buckskin fringe and a six-shooter. Tommy Benson regarded her +as though hypnotized. He caught a quizzical expression in Jerry's eyes +as she stood on the porch, and colored hotly. He swallowed hard and +sprang to the saddle. With obvious effort to regain his poise, he +touched his horse with his heels and with a theatrical sweep of his +right arm declaimed: + +"Let's go! 'Once more into the breach dear friends, once more.'" + +Peggy lingered. + +"You are sure that you won't come with us, Jerry?" Her sister smilingly +shook her head. + +"No, I must finish some work. Come back, Goober!" to the dog who had +been jumping up to lick the noses of the horses, and who with short +joyous barks was preparing to follow them. He threw her a glance replete +with injured dignity and flopped down on the porch with head on his +outstretched paws. Peggy threw a hasty "I'm sorry!" over her shoulder +and urged Bubbles to a gallop. Tommy bore down upon her as she reached +the ranch road. He seized the bridle of her horse and pulled him down. + +"Where's the fire?" he demanded. "What's the big idea in burning up the +road? I want to make this ride last." + +"I thought you wanted to get to Lower Field to help Steve," +reproachfully. + +"Sure thing, but if I break my neck getting there it won't prove much, +will it? I wonder why your sister didn't come." + +The horses stepped daintily side by side, their glossy coats shining in +the sunlight. Peggy's brows met in a suspicion of a frown. + +"Tommy--you don't mind if I call you Tommy, do you?" with just the right +suggestion of hesitation and a glance from under curling lashes which +fanned a spark in the man's eyes to fire. + +"I'll say that I don't," fervently. "Formality is silly in a great, +God's-own-country like this. What's on your mind?" + +"Jerry. I was wondering. There is something queer about Steve and Jerry, +Tommy. They don't seem a bit like married lovers; have you noticed it?" + +Benson bent far forward to examine the bit in his horse's mouth. When he +settled back in the saddle his face was flushed. + +"'I never knew so young a lady with so old a head,'" he quoted gayly. +"What does a child like you, just out of the nursery, know about +lovers?" he teased. + +She regarded him with lofty condescension. + +"I shall be nineteen my next birthday and I'll have you understand that +boys have been plentiful in my career, Mr. Benson. Of course if you +don't care to talk with me----" + +"I do--I do, Peg-o'-my-heart!" Courtlandt's name for her slipped +unconsciously from Tommy's lips. He looked at her apologetically but the +girl was too engrossed in her troubled thoughts to notice what he called +her. Reassured he answered her question. "I think that Steve and Jerry +are bully pals." + +"Pals! Ye gods, and that's all. Honest now, Tommy, have you ever seen +Steve catch Jerry's hand as though he just couldn't help it?" Benson +met her triumphant glance with a sternly accusing eye. + +"Oh, the precocity and sophistication of twentieth century youth! Look +here, young woman, what have you been reading?" + +"Reading! Tommy, you're overdoing it. You're too innocent to be true," +with a little rush of laughter. "Now I ask you, would you want a wife +who was as distantly friendly to you as Jerry is to Steve?" + +"I should not," with convincing emphasis. "But why should your sister +have married Courtlandt if she didn't love him? I can't conceive of his +not being mad about her." + +"Dad was the why. I didn't know until I asked him if I might come here. +I went to San Francisco with my roommate when school closed, but I +intended to come to Jerry as quickly as I politely could. When he gave +me permission to come Dad told me that he expected me to marry family as +Jerry had--that he had brought her up with the idea and that she had not +disappointed him. That's that!" + +"In the vernacular of the backwoods, 'She seen her duty an' she done +it,'" interpolated Benson. "Might--might an humble admirer ask if you +are planning to please your father or--or yourself, when you marry?" He +succeeded in keeping eyes and tone gayly impersonal. + +"I don't intend to marry at all, that is, not for years and years and +years." + +"You'll be quite a nice old lady by that time, won't you?" + +"You're not nearly as good-looking when you scowl, Tommy. As I was +saying, when so rudely interrupted, when I do marry it will be to please +myself. I told Dad a thing or two," and Tommy, observing the tiny flames +which memory had set in her hazel eyes, allowed that she had. + +"I'm puzzled about Jerry's money," Peggy went on thoughtfully. "Dad +gives us an allowance fit for princesses of blood royal; that's an +out-of-date simile now, isn't it? When I asked her this morning for five +dollars with which to tip the man who brought up my trunk, first she was +shocked at the idea of tipping one of the outfit, and then she grew as +red as fire and stammered that she had no small bills. Ye gods, what do +you know about that?" with slangy amazement. + +"Sweet cookie, that's nothing. Many a time I haven't been able to pry a +dollar bill loose." + +"That is different. You're--you're working and it takes time to make a +living," with sweet earnestness. Tommy shot a quick look at her. Was she +laughing at him? No, she was taking his lack of funds seriously. "About +that Alexandrite ring. Once Jerry would have ordered it by wire before +you could say 'Jack Robinson'--but all she said was, 'I--I'm not buying +jewels now, Peg.' Has she turned miser or has Dad----" her eyes flew to +Benson's in startled questioning. "Dad was furious because Jerry and +Steve left New York. Could he have stopped her allowance? But--but if he +did--surely Steve would give----" she stopped in troubled uncertainty. + +"Why don't you ask your sister?" suggested Benson gravely. + +"I will. I can't believe that Dad would--well he'd better never try to +drive me. And that's that," with a defiant tilt of her chin. + +"Would you stick to--to a man, a poor man, you loved even if you knew +that your father would cut you off with the proverbial shilling?" Her +hazel eyes met his turbulent blue ones frankly. + +"Indeed I would, Mr. Tommy Benson. I shouldn't be afraid to marry a poor +man, that is, a poor man with a future. I should want to be sure that he +was that kind. I love to cook and sew and I should adore taking care of +a ducky little house and brushing my husband's coat collar when he +started off for work in the morning and going to market. There is only +one thing I should hate to economize about----" her expression and tone +were introspective. Benson was conscious that his heart was in his eyes +but he didn't care. She was adorable with that thoughtful pucker of her +vivid lips. He had to steady his voice before he asked lightly: + +"And what may that one thing be, Peg-o'-my-heart?" + +"Children," she answered promptly and with utter absence of +self-consciousness. "I want eight and--and I suppose that's rather +extravagant for a poor man to start with, don't you, Tommy?" + +Benson held his emotions in a grip of steel. At that moment the +boy-he-had-been waved good-bye and slipped away forever. The man's eyes +were gravely tender as he answered the girl's question with judicial +deliberation. + +"Perhaps--not. That is, not for a poor man with a future." He tightened +on the bridle. "Steve will think we're quitters. Let's go!" + +The white road stretched ahead of them. Their horses' feet raised a haze +of dust. On either side billowed fields of tall, untrodden grass and +beyond the fields lumped the foot-hills. In a pasture a roan mare lay +with her head up over her shoulder asleep, while beside her, flat on its +side in the sun, dozed a young colt. Insects droned and buzzed +unceasingly. The air sparkled with that brand of ozone to be found only +among the foot-hills. + +Benson and Peggy came upon Courtlandt in Lower Field. He nodded to them +absent-mindedly. He was the centre of a group of mounted men, all eager, +all armed. Most of them rolled and smoked cigarettes incessantly as they +sat their horses. A few of them wore chaps with vests over their colored +shirts, some were in khaki riding clothes, all wore bandanas of violent +pattern in place of collars, broad-brimmed Stetsons and laced riding +boots. They were a clean-cut, self-respecting looking lot, as lean, +lithe and brown as a life spent in the saddle could make them. Pete +Gerrish on his massive sorrel loomed above them all. + +"Understand me, there is to be no shooting," Steve was reiterating as +Peg and Benson rode up. "Gerrish, I'll fire the man who shoots unless in +self-defense. Do you get me, boys?" + +"Sure, we get you," drawled Marcelle O'Neil, so nicknamed because of the +unrepressible kink in his straw-colored hair. "No objection, be ther', +to ropin' one of Ranlett's gang an' reinin' him up short if he starts to +lope?" he wheedled. + +"No. Bring every one of them back if you can. Without injury, though. +We'll let the law mete out punishment." + +"Sure, it's none of my butt-in how you handle the durn polecat, but if I +had my way I'd swing Ranlett up to a cottonwood if I got my mazuma fer +doin' it. Them were the finest Shorthorns in the world and if +Nick-the-time-feeder was back----" + +Nicholas Fairfax had been notoriously prompt to discharge a man who +slacked on the job, but O'Neil had not intended to let the bunk-house +name for the late owner of the Double O slip out. He looked furtively at +Courtlandt but he, consciously or unconsciously, ignored the lapse. + +"We'll find them, O'Neil. We must. Get a move on, boys. Ride in pairs +and ride like----" + +Their whoop of enthusiasm drowned his last words. Steve remained +motionless until the last one had taken the fence at a jump. His face +was white, his eyes strained and tired. He rode toward Peg and Benson +who had with difficulty restrained their horses from following the +riders. + +"That was the nearest approach to the wild-west cowboy of the eighties +that you will ever see, Peg-o'-my-heart. Did you notice that Marks and +Schoeffleur were missing, Tommy? Why didn't Jerry come with you, Peg?" + +"She said that she had work to do, that she would ride after luncheon." + +"She understood that she was not to go out of sight of the ranch-house?" + +The girl's salaam was as profound as the neck of her horse would +permit. + +"Your slave heard and obeys, oh Abdul the Great." + +A laugh erased the tired lines about Courtlandt's mouth. + +"Do I seem such a tyrannous old Turk to you? Well, it is only because I +am afraid that Jerry----" He left his sentence unfinished and turned to +Benson. "Take a message to Upper Farm for me. Tell--the Devil!" + +"Your mistake, Steve; it's only Mrs. Denbigh," Peggy corrected +mischievously as she followed Courtlandt's eyes to where Felice Denbigh +and Greyson were entering the field. The three rode to meet the +newcomers. + +"Good morning. I didn't know that you left your downy before noon, +Felice." + +The woman put her horse through a few paces that were as coquettish as +her eyes and voice. + +"On with the vamps!" muttered Tommy in a tone intended only for Peg's +ear. With difficulty she choked back a delighted giggle as Felice +answered in a spoiled-child voice: + +"Steve, you're getting to be a barbarian out here. Have you forgotten +that last night you invited me to ride with you this morning?" + +"Last night--I what?" demanded Courtlandt, a slow color darkening his +face. + +"I waited for you at the X Y Z and when you didn't come fairly browbeat +my host into escorting me to Double O ranch. I thought I should find you +there. No such luck. We saw only Mrs. Courtlandt and she thought that +you would be too busy----" + +"I am too busy," curtly. "Tommy, take Mrs. Denbigh with you and Peg to +Upper Farm. You'll find the most up-to-date dairy in the country there, +Felice. Its equipment cost----" + +"Don't talk like a mail-order catalogue, Steve," the woman interrupted +petulantly. "If you can't show me the Upper Farm I will wait until you +can, I'm a patient waiter. I always get what I want," with narrowed eyes +and an iced smile which sent a queer shiver down Benson's spine. He +looked at Greyson to see how he was bearing his equivocal position. The +man's fine, thoroughbred face was red and set about the lips. Benson +couldn't understand his allowing himself to be placed in such an awkward +situation. Why the dickens had he invited the Denbigh woman to the X Y +Z? He must have been at the Manor long enough during Old Nick's illness +to have found her out. He brought his thoughts back to the present in +time to hear Felice say: + +"Shall we go on to Slippy Bend, Mr. Greyson? Your sister gave us some +commissions to execute there. So long, Stevie! You'll come over for a +game of auction to-night, of course. You and I against mine host and +Paula." She didn't wait for his answer. Without a glance in the +direction of Peg and Benson she wheeled her horse and rode away. Greyson +waved his hat to Peg, called something to her companions and cantered +after his guest. For one long, silent moment Courtlandt followed the two +with his eyes, then he resumed his directions to Benson where he had +dropped them. + +"Tell Mrs. Simms to have Simms report to me to-morrow noon at the ranch. +Show Peg over Upper Farm. She won't insist upon being personally +conducted by me, I'll wager. Get your lunch there. Mrs. Simms' jelly +cookies will make you purr with repletion, Peggy. I told Ming Soy that +we wouldn't be back till late afternoon. Take your time. Don't let Peg +ride too hard. Jerry won't be anxious. She knows what distances are +here." + +"But, Steve, don't you need me? I can take Miss Glamorgan back and join +you." + +"No, I'm riding alone. I have a few fairly fresh trails to follow up. Be +a good child, Peg-o'-my-heart, and do exactly what the best range-rider +on the Double O tells you to do." He laughed at her indignant eyes, +touched Blue Devil with his heel and loped off. Peggy looked after him +and then at Benson. + +"I wonder--I don't like that Denbigh woman. Did you see her eyes when +Steve turned her down? Careful Cosmetics is the name for her. She must +think it's the open season for vamps round here." She looked at Tommy +with laughter and a glint of mischief in her hazel eyes. "Now I wonder +who Steve could have meant by the best range-rider of the Double O?" she +mused in a low voice as though communing with herself. + +Benson swept off his Stetson with swash-buckling impressiveness. + +"I don't like to talk about myself--but," he murmured with exaggerated +humility, "I'll say that I--now who the dickens is that? The Simms kid. +Johnny Simms. What does he want? I----" His voice trailed off into +silence as he watched a boy who came galloping up on a pony to speak to +Courtlandt. Tommy unconsciously caught the bridle of the girl's horse. +Bubbles and Soapy, who had been paddock mates, nuzzled noses. The girl +and man watching saw the boy hand Steve a paper, then whirl and gallop +away as though pursued by a thousand furies. + +"That's queer," Benson observed under his breath. + +"What's queer?" asked Peggy in the same hushed whisper. + +"That the boy should break away like that. He adores Steve. So do the +other Simms kids. Now what is Courtlandt doing? Burning something?" as +a wisp of smoke fell to the ground. + +"Why don't you go and find out?" in a tone which was own cousin to his. + +"Nothing doing. You don't know Steve. I'm here; he knows it. He never +misses a trick. If he wants me he'll shout. There, you see? He doesn't," +as Courtlandt, after a glance at the ground where the smoke had fallen, +galloped across the field toward the ranch road. + +"You're fond of Steve, aren't you?" Peggy probed as they headed their +horses toward Upper Farm. + +"Fond of him! That's a deleted, diluted expression of my sentiments for +the Whistling Lieut. We literally went through fire and water overseas; +since then I've been on the ranch. You see, the German Inn where Steve +and I sojourned for a couple of months didn't have a particularly +beneficial effect on my health, so when I got back to the good old U. S. +A. I came here to recuperate and I have stayed." + +"Haven't you any family?" + +"I have. One devoted, in-perfect-condition mother, 1921 model, ditto +father. She is coming out next week. Hasn't your sister written you +about me?" curiously. + +"What conceit! She hasn't written pages about you," with a laugh which +sent the color to his face in a flood. "She wrote that you were here, +that Steve said that you had a future if you'd stick to ranching and +leave celluloid alone--now what did he mean by that?" + +"So Steve said that I was a man with a future, did he? Make a mental +note of that, Miss Glamorgan," his tone and look brought a startled +flash to eyes which had been so boyishly friendly. He steadied his voice +before he went on: "I've had a fool idea that I wanted to be a +movie-actor--but----" + +"But don't you want to any more?" + +"No." + +"When did you experience a change of heart?" + +"This morning at exactly two o'clock, I decided that there was nothing +in it, that I wanted to be a solid citizen with a settled abiding +place." + +"Two o'clock! Why, that was when I reached Slippy----" With heightened +color she tightened her rein and touched Bubbles with her heels. "I'll +race you to the farmhouse," she called over her shoulder, a curious +breathlessness in her voice. She kept the lead till they reached the +gate of the farm, then Benson caught her horse by the bridle. + +"The back of your head is attractive but I like your face better. Don't +you want to hear the romantic story of Mrs. Simms before we get there? +She's a Heart and Ringer." + +"A--a what?" + +It was no longer necessary to hold the bridle of the girl's horse. She +forced him to a walk. + +"Heart and Ringer. That is what they call the women who marry men who +advertise in the matrimonial sheet, Heart and Ring." + +"Really, Tommy! Did Mrs. Simms do that?" + +"She did, and she got just what she paid for. Simms is a bounder but +he's thrifty as the dickens and an A 1 workman. That's what caught Old +Nick in the beginning. He'd have employed the devil himself had he those +characteristics. But the man is ugly and insolent. How Steve puts up +with him beats me. It is because of Mrs. Simms, I suppose. She is a fine +woman and a corker in the dairy. She lived in Montana. She was the +daughter of a miner who had made his pile and gone to farming. Montana +got on her nerves, so when she saw Simms' 'ad' in Heart and Ring she +corresponded with him and married him. I'll bet a hat Montana has looked +like heaven to her ever since. That was one of their children who met +Steve. I'd give my Kipling de luxe to know why." + +He drew rein before the white farmhouse which hugged the ground like a +mammoth brooding hen. In the field beyond was a spatter effect of snowy +dairies and cow-barns. Black and white Holsteins, creamy Jerseys, +Guernseys and a few Ayreshires grazed epicureanly in the lush pastures +that climbed the foot-hills. + +A slender, wiry woman, who gave a fresh-from-the-laundry impression, so +immaculate, so clear of skin, so smooth of hair was she, greeted Peg and +Benson as they dismounted. Her smile was obliterated as Tommy's eyes +lingered on her arm. She hastily pulled down her sleeves and buttoned +them snugly at the wrists. + +"It sure is fine to see you, Mr. Benson. You ain't taken my advice so +soon and got a wife, have you?" she asked with a laugh and twinkle in +the eyes which nature had intended for a merry blue, but which Life, +aided and abetted by Heart and Ring and--Simms, had threshed to an +apprehensive gray. + +"No such luck, Mrs. Simms. This is Mrs. Courtlandt's sister, Miss +Margaret Glamorgan. We came with a message from the Chief for Simms. +Where is he? At the dairy?" + +"I'm sure pleased to know you, Miss. Simms has gone to--to Slippy Bend, +Mr. Tommy." + +"She's lying," Benson decided, even as he directed: "When he gets back +tell him to report at the office to-morrow noon, sharp, with his +accounts. Has he been up to his old tricks again?" His eyes fell as +though by accident to her arms. + +The woman's eyes, her lips, changed in expression. It was as though her +features, red-hot with life and interest, had been run into a mold and +hardened. + +"He has that, Mr. Tommy." + +"Is there any use in repeating what I have said before, that you ought +to leave him?" + +"An' I say as I said before, you're wrong, Mr. Tommy. I promised in the +sight of God and man to stick to him as long as we both lived. I wasn't +forced to marry Simms. I did it of my own free Will--my own fool will," +contemptuously. "I'd be a fine example to my children, wouldn't I, if I +tried to get out of marriage just because it wasn't the romantic +joy-ride I'd expected. It would be different if Simms abused the +children; he never lays a hand on 'em. He wouldn't dare," with a glitter +in her eyes. "You and Mr. Tommy'll stay and have a bite of lunch with +us, won't you, Miss? Mr. Courtlandt always has his when he comes." + +Her change of voice and subject was so sudden that it caught Peggy's +hazel eyes, glistening with tears, fixed upon her face. The girl blinked +the mist away, slipped her hand under the woman's firm arm and inquired +with irresistible charm: + +"Will there be jelly cookies, Mrs. Simms?" + +The blue came back to the eyes for a moment. + +"Surely. Aha, Mr. Tommy, now I know what you came for." + +"I didn't tell her about them. It was the Big Chief." + +"Mr. Steve!" The blue suffered a total eclipse. "Did he come with you?" + +"As far as Lower Field. By the way, what's wrong with Johnny? He +galloped up to Courtlandt, stuck out his hand, then beat it." + +"But he stuck out his hand?" + +"Surest thing you know." + +Mrs. Simms exhaled to the limit of her flat chest. + +"That's all right, then. Johnny--Johnny found a sparkling stone--and he +said as how he thought 'twas gold--and he's--he's pestered me to death +till I told him he could ask Mr. Steve if he could stake off a claim. +Minin's in his blood. My father was a miner, Miss. I guess I'd better +get busy about dinner, not stand talking here," she explained as she +hurried away. + +Benson's eyes followed her as he perched on a corner of the porch +railing and lighted his pipe. Peg had gone into the house to help. He +could hear the two voices, the woman's a high strident tone, the girl's +like music with a joyous note running through it. The delectable odor of +bacon and frying chicken drifted out to him and set his already rampant +appetite clamoring for satisfaction. Mrs. Simms had cut that boy and +pebble story from whole cloth, if he was a judge of human nature, and +he'd bet his last dollar that he was, Benson thought, as he changed his +seat to one from which he could look inside the room which served as +living-room and dining-room at Upper Farm. + +It was for all the world like the pictures one saw in mail-order +catalogues, he thought with a smile. There was an old-time melodion in +one corner and an up-to-date phonograph in another. There was golden oak +furniture in profusion. The walls were covered with a paper on which +impossible roses fought for supremacy with more impossible alleged birds +of paradise. How could a person think between such walls, Tommy +wondered. He had the feeling as he looked that birds and roses were +being stuffed down his throat. In the midst of his reflections Mrs. +Simms called him. + +The three children slipped shyly into their chairs after the strangers +were seated. They were boys, ranging in age from four to ten. Johnny had +not come home, apparently. They had almost white hair and eyes shaped +like the eyes of sculpins, which they kept fixed on Peggy Glamorgan, +after the hypnotic effect of the company blue and white checked +table-cloth, the pressed glass spoon-holder, and the best gold-banded +plates with a big S in a funereal-like wreath on the border, had worn +off. + +Benson smiled to himself as he watched them. They were doing frankly and +unreproved what he longed to do. Extreme youth had some compensations. +He lost himself in a radiant dream of possibilities and became as +absorbed with his inward vision as the scions of the house of Simms were +with the material and fascinating Peg herself. He was quite unconscious +that the girl was observing him in amused wonder. + +"What did Johnny mean by staking a claim, Mrs. Simms?" she inquired as +with the air of a dainty gourmand she set her teeth in a second cookie. +"I would have asked Mr. Benson, but who am I to rouse him from his dream +of--of fair women, perhaps--yes?" with a ripple of laughter. + +Tommy roused with a start and colored generously. + +"I beg pardon, I was----" + +"That's what miners do when they think they've found gold," interrupted +Mrs. Simms, quite unconscious of the byplay. "They stake off a lot of +land and post it. Sometimes they don't work it for a year or more." + +"Then why take possession? Isn't that dog-in-the-manger stuff?" + +"No, because they really want it. They stake their claim so that no +other man can get it," broke in Benson. "And if you ask me, I'll say +that it's a whale of an idea," he added with a curious light in his +eyes. "Young woman, if you have finished your cookie gorge we will +depart." + +"Cookie gorge! Slanderer! Mrs. Simms, did I eat as many as he?" + +"Don't perjure yourself, Mrs. Simms. Come, Peg-o'-my-heart!" He realized +that his eyes were acting as town-criers for his emotions and shifted +his gaze from the girl to the woman. She sensed their message and +exclaimed impulsively: + +"My stars, ain't it great to be young and--and free!" + +"You've said it, Mrs. Simms," agreed Peg with her woman-of-the-world air +as she drew on her riding gloves. "Catch me settling down. Never! And +that's that!" + +The woman's troubled eyes sought Benson's. He laughed and held out his +hand. "Good-bye, Mrs. Simms. Don't you worry. Having attained the +titanic and imposing age of eighteen the lady would naturally have +caustic views on matrimony. It will come out right and--and that's +that!" he observed cryptically. "Be sure that Simms reports to-morrow. +The Big Chief has about all he can handle now; we don't want him +worried." + +It was not until Benson and Peg neared the Double O ranch that they +came back to the subject of their late hostess. They had spent a lazy, +happy afternoon, making Tommy's daily round of inspection which he +usually covered in two hours. + +"Do you think Simms hurts her?" the girl broke out suddenly, apropos of +nothing. "Did you see those marks on her arm? Why, oh why, does she stay +with him?" with a shudder. + +"You heard why." + +"Yes, and do you know what I saw when she said that about God and man? I +didn't see her at all; it was a close-up of Jerry's eyes at her wedding, +and the clergyman saying, 'And forsaking all others.' Those words echoed +in my brain for days. Jerry is like Mrs. Simms. She'd keep a vow like +that if it killed her." + +"Wouldn't you?" + +"You never can tell," flippantly. "At least I don't intend to get into a +position where I'll have to for years--and--years--and years----" The +last words floated back to him with laughter as she galloped off. She +kept the breakneck pace till she pulled up at the court entrance. Benson +was off his horse before she could dismount. He lifted her from the +saddle and with his arms about her drew her into the garden. + +"I won't take possession till you give me leave,--but--but I--I'll stake +my claim now, and that's that!" he whispered huskily as he kissed her +once upon her white throat. + +"Mr. Tommee! Mr. Tommee Benson!" called a voice from the path as Ming +Soy in her gay silks came running toward them. Her slant eyes were +almost wide. "Misses Stevie went off on horse after lunch. Tlell Ming +Soy just going to flield; Ming Soy bleat glong when you and little +Missis come, but she didn't go to flield, and she never come back--not +all this time." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Jerry Courtlandt lingered on the porch to watch her sister and Benson as +they raced down the drive. Her eyebrows met in a thoughtful frown. What +would her father say if Peg fell in love with Benson, with his +poor-but-honest background? There was no "if" about Tommy. Cupid had set +signal fires to burning in his eyes already. Benson pere had begun his +business career as an errand boy; now he twinkled a large and somewhat +dazzling planet in the select heaven of the multies. Well, Glamorgan the +oil-king couldn't expect both his daughters to marry the man of his +choice. She had done it and what had been her reward? Because she had +views as to right and wrong and justice he refused to write to her. +Evidently Peg didn't know the terms of Nicholas Fairfax's will or she +wouldn't have been surprised at her lack of enthusiasm about the +Alexandrite. Two thousand dollars! It seemed a more stupendous sum than +twenty thousand would have seemed to her a year ago. Values were curious +things. What had Steve thought? She was beginning to dread his +eyes--they were so searching, so compelling. + +If she wanted and needed money, she would earn it; other women had been +doing it for years; she wouldn't accept it from Steve any other way. In +spite of his prohibition she would work on the books for a while. She +paused before she entered the house to draw a long breath and take a +look at the glorious world about her. The sky spread like a cerulean +canopy flecked with motionless white clouds. It seemed near. She felt +more as though she were looking up at a vast, decorated dome than at the +heavens. Almost she expected to see Dawn or any one of the symbolic +head-liners in the mural world, come trailing her scanty draperies +across the blue. The far-off mountains reared a patchwork of purple and +blue and gold. The noisy stream was fringed with color. The fields +rustled their content in the sunshine. On the road to the X Y Z rose a +cloud of dust. + +"Somebody coming!" she thought with a thrill of excitement. Then she +laughed and looked down at the dog who stood in stately, aloof dignity +beside her. "Goober, I'm getting to be like a prairie-dog who parks +outside his hole to see the pass," she confided. She still watched the +approaching riders. When she recognized in them Felice Denbigh and Bruce +Greyson she regretted that she had lingered. It was too late to +disappear now. The owner of the X Y Z had seen her and waved his hand. +With a feeling of repugnance, which shocked her even as it swept her, +Jerry went to the steps to greet the riders. Felice in her smart silvery +linen looked as though she had been removed recently from tissue +wrappings. Greyson's eyes met Jerry's. Was she mistaken that they were +full of a wordless apology, she wondered, even as she greeted the two +cordially. + +"Doesn't this morning look as though it had just been returned from the +dry-cleanser's?" she asked gayly. "Did you ever feel anything more spick +and span than the air? Won't you come in?" + +"Thanks, no." Felice Denbigh's answer was hurried. "Where is Steve? He +invited me to inspect the Double O with him this morning. He was to come +for me but I tired of the role of patient Griselda and made Mr. Greyson +bring me over. Not that I had to work hard to persuade him." Her light +tone was tinged with malice as she administered one of those subtle +female digs commonly imperceptible to the male intelligence. Jerry +caught the obvious reply between her teeth and substituted: + +"Steve was called to Lower Field. I--I doubt if he can ride with you +this morning, Mrs. Denbigh." + +If a glance could have accomplished it, Jerry would have been neatly and +expeditiously skinned, then and there. Felice's voice had the edge of a +hari-kari sword as she answered: + +"Steve is the person to decide that. Which way to Lower Field, Mr. +Greyson?" Her host's eyes flamed. + +"If Mrs. Courtlandt thinks----" + +"Oh, but Mrs. Courtlandt doesn't think," protested Jerry laughingly. "Do +show Mrs. Denbigh the way to Lower Field, Bruce. I should be delighted +to go myself but for a letter which must be ready for Sandy this +morning. You will find----" + +Felice Denbigh was off before she had finished her sentence. Greyson +followed without a word. Jerry looked after the two with troubled eyes. +Her thoughts were in a turmoil. + +"What has happened to Bruce Greyson?" she thought anxiously. "His +conversational output has shrunk till what he says seems a waste of +breath, it amounts to so little. One would think he was under a spell. I +wonder--I wonder if Steve did make a date with her?" she mused aloud as +she crossed the court on her way to the office. Jose, busy among his +flowers, swept off his hat with his single-tooth smile. + +"_Buenos dias, Senora._ My roses bloom brighter as you pass, yes?" +Benito, balancing on one claw on the rim of the fountain, shivered, +blinked his yellow eyes and croaked hoarsely: + +"Piffle!" + +With a shocked exclamation Jose flung a chunk of loam at the parrot. It +hit him squarely and knocked him backward into the shallow basin. With +frightened squawks and much ruffling of feathers the bird regained his +place on the basin's rim. For an instant he indulged in a what-hit-me +blink, then with his gaudy plumage looking as though it had been +electrified croaked angrily: + +"I'll be d----!" + +Jose swooped and muffled the final word beneath his coat. "You weel +pardon, Senora? It is Senor Tommee that teaches Benito seence he come to +the rancho. I teach heem when he ees so leetle to speak only good. Not +till one year ago does he begin to talk like wild devil. Senora weel +pardon? He ees all I have, he ees like my child." + +Jerry accepted the brown man's apology as seriously as it was offered. + +"Children are a great responsibility. You never can tell what they will +do, can you, Jose?" + +The office seemed a dull, uninteresting drab in contrast to the light +and color of the world outside. Even the silent witnesses to the drama +and lawlessness of the country, now guarded jealously by glass doors, +failed to spur the girl's imagination. She streamed the curtain up at +the window. A light haze of dust lingered above the road Greyson and +Felice had taken. The music of the stream stole into the quiet room; +down in the corral a horse whinnied intriguingly; the whole gleaming +out-of-doors lured, the mountains beckoned. + +Jerry resolutely barred heart and mind against temptation and attacked +her letters. She worked with single-track intentness until Ming Soy +announced luncheon. She looked up in surprise. Her work had burned up +the hours. She interned the typewriter and closed her desk with a bang. +She flexed her muscles in luxurious enjoyment of the sensation. What a +relief to move, but it wasn't even a sliver of the relief she felt when +she looked down at the sheaf of letters awaiting Steve's signature. How +it would have pleased her father to know that she had resisted the +temptation to be up and away on Patches, she thought wistfully. She +could see him now, hear his gruff voice saying: + +"Jerry, the more you dread the thing you have to do, the more you should +hustle to get it behind you. Make that a rule of your life and you'll +find you will have all the time you want and some left with which to +speculate." He was a resplendent example of the working out of his own +precept, his daughter thought. He was the busiest man she knew yet he +always had an abundance of time for pleasure. + +What should she do with her afternoon, she wondered, as she enjoyed the +dainty luncheon Ming Soy served in a shady corner of the court. The air +had lost the keenness of the morning. Birds flew to the rim of the +basin, observed the girl at the table critically for an instant, then +proceeded with the day's ablutions. They chattered, they splashed, they +scolded, they preened and dressed their feathers in the sun. Butterflies +darted in and out among the blossoms. There were none of the usual ranch +sounds to break the stillness. Where were the men? Had Steve taken them +all with him, she wondered. What were Peg and Tommy doing? Peg might see +some real riding if she caught up with the outfit before they started +off in pursuit of the missing cattle, but alas for buckskin fringes +and---- + +Suddenly a plan sprang full panoplied, complete, from her brain. It was +born of her what-shall-I-do-now mood. If necessity is the mother of +invention, idleness is the father of adventure. She would array herself +in one of the cowboy suits behind the glass doors, mount Patches and +ride to the field behind the ranch-house, practise with a six-shooter +until Peg came, then she'd dash toward her with her gun "spittin' death +and damnation" into the air. + +Her idea developed with magic-beanstalk rapidity, as all ideas will if +they are dropped in fertile and well-cultivated soil. She laughed until +she was breathless as she confronted herself in the mirror in her own +room an hour later. Over her linen riding breeches she had drawn a pair +of flapping black and white Angora chaps. Great Mexican rowels adorned +her riding boots. A hectic yellow bandana, with red spots which gave the +cheery effect of a geometrical nosebleed, almost covered her delicate +blouse. Her sleeves were rolled to the elbows, at her hip swung a +six-shooter of sinister portent. A heavy belt filled with cartridges +sagged from her waist. She had slipped a silver filigree band above the +black and gold cord of Steve's campaign hat. + +In a little whirlwind of laughter she blew a kiss to the gleaming eyes +of her vis-a-vis and lifted the saddle which she had purloined from the +glass case. It was gay with silver. The tapideros were choice examples +of Mexican craftsmanship. The head-stall of the bridle was fantastically +trimmed with the metal. As Jerry passed through the living-room the huge +rowels on her boots caught in the rug. She dropped the saddle with a +crash and caught at the table to save herself from falling. Her eyes +were bright, her cheeks pink when she had Patches saddled. She had +brought him up from the corral herself before she dressed. He rolled +his great eyes at her as she came out of the house. He pranced +skittishly until she spoke. Then he quieted but he kept an appraising, +suspicious eye on her. As the crowning touch of realism Jerry fastened a +coil of rawhide rope beside the saddle fork. + +It was with difficulty, punctuated by _sotto voce_ exclamations, that +the girl mounted. The chaps were heavy and perversely unadaptable. As +she gathered up the reins Ming Soy appeared at the door. The little +Oriental's eyes were globules of wonder. Jerry anticipated her. + +"I am off to practise shooting in the field behind the house, Ming Soy. +Don't be frightened if you hear shots. Watch the road for Miss Glamorgan +and Mr. Benson. They ought to be here within an hour. The moment they +appear in sight sound the gong at the back of the ranch-house. Do you +understand?" + +"All light. Ming Soy understan'. Slandy tlell Hopi Soy he see Clarey +range-rider ketch Double O steers, other day. Said first he thought he +doin' it for Hopi Soy's chief, so he doan't say nodin'. Now he wonder." + +"Ming Soy! Are you sure?" + +"Slandy tlell Hopi Soy he see um ketch um. Clarey range-rider drove +steers over hill black of Blear Cleek ranch, Slandy tlell Hopi Soy." + +"Ming Soy, don't let anyone know you told me that." + +"All light, Ming Soy no tlell." + +Jerry didn't know why she put that embargo on the Chinese woman's +tongue. Perhaps a vague fear that a warning would get to the thief +prompted it. The girl's mind was in a tumult as she raced Patches along +the road. She didn't stop to unfasten the gate, she jumped it. As she +entered the field which led to the stream she had quite forgotten the +exhibition she had staged for Peg. She had suspected that range-rider of +crookedness. Absorbed in thought she allowed Patches to race across the +rustic bridge. The thud of his hoofs on the wood brought her back to the +present. She pulled the horse down to a walk. Where was she going? To +see what was on the other side of that ridge beyond which the +range-rider had disappeared! + +She followed the pack-trail cautiously. Bear Creek ranch-house in the +glare of sunshine was outlined distinctly against the dark cliff behind +it. Was it only this morning that she had come out of that door to find +Steve waiting for her? She had the curious feeling of being in another +decade. How were things going with the little mother, she wondered +and--and where was the Man of Mystery? + +She touched Patches lightly with the great spurs and raced along the +trail toward the hill. It didn't seem possible that the man who had +seemed so concerned when he came for her last night could be a +rustler--but Sandy had seen him and the calves were missing. Her +thoughts urged her on. She was the one person of authority within reach. +She didn't know just what she intended to do, but she must do something. +She only knew that a frenzied voice somewhere inside her head kept +reiterating: + +"He shan't get away with it! He shan't get away with it!" + +Once as she climbed the hill she thought she saw a horse's head behind a +tree. Her heart choked her with its pounding. The object proved to be +nothing more intimidating than a black stump. When she reached the top +of the slope she came upon a clump of dead trees standing spectral and +white. She rode through them till she emerged in a clearing from which +she could look down into the valley. + +Below lay a trough of the hills. Heat waves pulsed above it. Over its +surface, pockmarked with gopher holes, tumbleweed rolled and billowed +and stacked against rocks and fallen timber in uncanny, shifting masses. +Purple-gray and green sage-brush dotted it. Alkali whitened it in +streaks. Beyond the hollow stretched a belt of upheaved ridges of +brick-red sandstone. Between each ridge lay emerald green valleys with +little streams cutting through at nearly right angles. Higher and higher +rose the hills beyond till they loomed to mountains whose sides were +clothed with forests that had never paid toll to the lumber-jack, whose +snowy peaks, gold now in the sunshine, bared their jagged fangs to the +soft blue of the sky. They lured and beckoned with their mysterious +silences. + +At the base of the slope on which Jerry stood was a circular hole +perhaps three hundred feet in diameter and ten feet deep. At one side of +it, near a pool, were the unmistakable traces of a camp. There were the +ashes of a fire and beside them the mutilated body of a calf. The place +gave an intangible sense of tragedy and terror. + +Stepping as though the ground under her feet were a network of mines, +any one of which might be jarred into disastrous activity by an +inadvertent pressure of her foot, Jerry led Patches among the trees and +fastened him. She stole back over the carpet of pine needles, her chaps +flapping awkwardly at every step. She threw herself flat on the ground +from which she could see the hollow and waited. From somewhere came the +howl of a coyote; there seemed a million of them when the hills sent +back the echo. High and motionless in the sky a great bird poised to +reconnoiter then sailed and wheeled and dove. A gopher in front of his +hole beat Jack-in-the-box at his disappearing trick. + +Jerry shivered. Now she knew where she was, "Buzzard's Hollow." She +hated the wailing coyote and she cared less, even less, for that +horrible winged thing by the pool. Had the Bear Creek range-rider joined +the campers? If she could only see the brand on that calf. But she +couldn't; it would be madness to go down into the hollow. She must hurry +back to the Double O and report. Slowman, the corral boss, would be +there if no one else was. Someone should see that calf before the +buzzards had obliterated all trace of the owner. + +The girl sprang to her feet and ran to unloose Patches. Now that she had +decided to go her courage was disappearing as rapidly as vapor in the +sunshine. How terrifyingly empty of anything human the great spaces +seemed. She saw a menace behind every bush, a lurking danger behind +every tree. Apparently Patches' imagination was working overtime too. It +was a nervous horse she mounted but, as she turned toward the trail +which led to the Double O and safety, something drew her round. Perhaps +it was a sound, perhaps the lazy blue sweep of the mountains hypnotized +her. She guided Patches to the clearing from which she looked down into +the hollow. She couldn't have explained why she did it; it might have +been a morbid curiosity to see if the great bird was feasting on the +carrion. Her horse showed increased nervousness with every step. He +began to shake. Jerry slipped to the ground and laid her face against +his soft nose. + +"What is it, boy? We're going back----" + +A howl, a hair-raising mixture of banshee-wail and wildcat scream, +callioped behind them. Patches stood not upon the order of his going but +went at once. Snorting with terror he jerked the bridle from the girl's +hand and racketed down the hillside toward the hollow. For a moment +Jerry was rigid with terror, then she gripped her stampeding senses. + +She must think. She was alone with that yelling demon--she couldn't get +home without her horse--her next move was to follow Patches--he would +get over his fright and answer her call. The dangling six-shooter at her +side gave her courage. If her silly masquerading as a cowboy had done +nothing else, it had given her that. + +She slipped and slid down the slope. She caught at shrubs and stumps to +retard her too impetuous progress; they sampled the fringes of her black +and white chaps as she went by. She stubbed her toe upon a piece of +rock. The next instant it seemed to her excited fancy as though the +hillside gave way and took her with it. + +"Detour!" she chuckled hysterically as down, down, down she went with a +mass of dirt and gravel. She shielded her face with one hand as with the +other she made futile grabs at the ground. It seemed as though eons of +time passed as she rolled down the hill. Steve's hat went bounding down +ahead of her. "I wonder how many miles I've gone now?" she thought with +a frightened laugh. Then, as suddenly as she had started she stopped +against something big and weather-stained and unyielding. + +She lay passive for a moment looking up in dazed surprise. She was lying +beside a wooden shack. Strange that she had not seen it when she looked +down into the hollow. It must have been directly under the bank from +which she made her reconnaisance. She shut her eyes and stilled a cry as +she felt a hot breath on her cheek. Had the wildcat--she set her teeth +and looked up between cautiously parted lids--looked up into the brown +eyes of Patches. The horse was reeking wet, but he had stopped +trembling. His lips twitched against her cheek with a clumsy, quivering +caress. With a sob of thanksgiving Jerry threw her arms about his neck +and tried to rise. She fell back with a frightened laugh. From her waist +down she was buried in earth. + +She controlled a frantic desire to attack the gravel furiously and +scooped it away with slow and telling precision. Patches waited +patiently. Possibly he realized that having landed his mistress in the +dilemma it was only a square deal that he stand by. Jerry's heart +pounded as she scooped. What was on the other side of that wooden wall? +The headquarters of Ranlett and his gang? Was the calf lying in the +hollow one of those the range-rider had appropriated from the Double O? + +The gravel half removed the girl flung her arms about the horse's neck +and drew herself free. The black and white chaps remained partially +covered in earth and sand. Jerry took account of the damages. There was +a stinging, smarting scratch along one cheek, the sleeve of her blouse +was torn from the shoulder, her hair was a mass on her shoulders. +Nothing serious, she congratulated herself, as she tidied her hair, +removed a jeweled bar-pin from under the flamboyant bandana, and +fastened her sleeve in place with it. The scratch was the only real +casualty. Now that she was here she wondered if she couldn't find the +brand on that calf herself. + +Cautiously she tied Patches to a stump. The click of his hoof against a +rock sent her heart fluttering to her throat. She shrank against the +house and held her breath. No sound came from within or from the hollow. +She must have frightened off everything alive when she came crashing +down the hill. + +Reassured she picked up her hat which had landed near her and put it on. +It was curious what courage the touch of it gave her. It was as though +Steve had spoken. She could almost hear his "Steady, little girl, +steady!" She tiptoed round to the front of the shack. The slanting sun +shone on two dirty windows in sagging frames from which some of the +panes had been broken. In one of the survivors a round hole radiating +tiny cracks told a story without words. Desertion had laid its spell on +the place. The cabin was roofed with dirt and hay. Its board sides were +warped and weather-stained. The door in the middle sagged and swung +uncannily in the light breeze. What lay behind it? Evidence that would +convict Ranlett? + +Her heart pounding out the measure of her racing blood Jerry laid her +hand on the rusty iron handle of the door. Its hinges creaked dolorously +as she swung it wide. The sound echoed curiously within the empty +shack--but--was it an echo? The doubt sent a million little icy shivers +pricking through Jerry's veins. Her heart winged to her throat. She +swallowed it valiantly and put a hesitating foot across the threshold. + +It took an instant for her eyes to adjust themselves to the dimness +after the glare outside. Then the furnishings begun to take shape. A +cracked stove, red with rust, stood against the wall opposite; there was +a table with shreds of oilcloth hanging from it; a chair which had been +fashioned from a packing-box leaned against the table in three-legged +dejection; the door of a cupboard hung on one hinge displaying an array +of crockery and tin, in all stages of dilapidation and rust. Across one +end of the room was a built-in bunk. A ragged saddle-blanket trailed +from the side of it. + +What--what--was that! Had her imagination tricked her or had that dirty +blanket stirred? Jerry clutched the door. Even as she stood there, too +frightened to move, there came the muffled sound which she had thought +was an echo. Her vague sense of tragedy merged into something tangible +and threatening. Someone was under that blanket! Was it an injured +man--or--or--was it a decoy? + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Jerry never knew how long she stood with her eyes fixed in fascinated +terror on that heap in the bunk. Should she mount Patches as soon as her +frenzied feet would take her to him, or should she stay and help the man +if he were wounded? Head urged flight, heart urged help. She remembered +the parable of the Good Samaritan only to remind herself that the +rescuer had been a man. + +Another moan from the bunk decided her. Setting the door wide she drew +the six-shooter from its holster; unloaded even, it gave her a feeling +of strategic advantage, and with the gun gripped tight in her hand +tiptoed across the room. Every vestige of color had fled from her face +as with icy, shaking fingers she lifted a corner of the dingy blanket. +Under it a man lay on his face his hands and feet securely tied. + +"Beechy!" + +The four walls flung back the girl's hoarse whisper. + +"Beechy!" "Beechy!" "Beechy!" they chorused. + +Jerry looked down in dumb incredulity. She recognized the rampant +reddish, hair, the dent at the corner of one exposed eye. As though her +voice had penetrated to his consciousness the man rolled toward her. The +six-shooter clattered to the floor. The stunning effect of her discovery +was quickly tempered by the man's condition. Beechy, the man who had +saved Steve's life, was hurt, helpless. Her fingers attacked the knots +in the rope which bound him. She tugged, she pulled without making the +least impression. Was there not something in the room which would cut? +The minutes were flying! Someone might come. She ran to the cupboard and +seized a tin can. The cover was jagged. She tried to saw the rope with +that but it made no impression on the twisted hemp. She threw it from +her and looked about the room again--then--she rubbed her eyes; was that +a knife sticking in the wall above the bunk--or was she just seeing it? + +She stepped up on the edge of the bunk and touched it. It was real! With +an inarticulate cry of triumph the girl seized it. With teeth set hard +in her under lip she attacked the rope again. She stopped every few +moments to listen. Once she caught the far off call of a coyote--then +Patches whinnied. She dropped in a little heap on the floor, her hand +pressed hard against her heart to still its thumping--but nothing +stirred outside. She went on with her work. It seemed ages before she +had freed Beechy's arms and another century of time before the cords +were cut which bound his feet. + +She touched his head gently. There was no trace of blood. He must have +been stunned and tied, his captors relying upon the remoteness and +abandoned appearance of the shack to cover their work. Why had they done +it, Jerry wondered. Beechy had said that he had contracted to work on +the railroad. She remembered his answer to Steve's protest, "You know, +there is honor among thieves." Had he been linked up with Ranlett? But +Ranlett had nothing to do with the railroad. + +If she could only get him up. When she tried to lift him the clumsy +cartridge belt with the dangling holster kept getting in her way. With +an impatient exclamation she unfastened it and dropped it to the floor. +Then she slid the man's feet from the bunk, put her arms under him and +lifted him. His head rolled to her shoulder. How hot it was. If only she +had water! Her eyes roved about the cabin. No hope there. Through the +doorway, not twenty yards away, she could see the pool with the carcass +of the calf lying beyond it. With the possibility of lurking enemies, +had she the courage to go out to that? + +Beechy stirred and lifted heavy lids. The eyes beneath them were glazed +with pain. He looked about the room, then up at the face bending over +him. His gaze lingered a moment dreamily, then incredulously, then it +seemed as though his brain made a superhuman effort to break the spell +which bound it. + +"Mrs. Lieut.!" he tried to get to his feet but his head rolled weakly +back to the girl's shoulder. "Go! Go!" he whispered hoarsely. He made +another effort to sit up. He gripped the edge of the bunk till the flesh +under his finger nails showed white. "If I could get water to--to cool +this--this devilish fire in my head--go--Ranlett----" his clearing gaze +fastened on the long scratch on her cheek--"For the love of--did they +get you too?" + +Jerry gently forced him back. + +"No--no, I fell. Lie still, Beechy, while I go for water. Every moment +that you keep quiet counts. Your head is not cut, there is nothing the +matter that I can discover except that you were stunned. Don't move +while I am gone. When I come back we will get away from here--we--we +must. Remember that my safety depends upon you now and keep perfectly +still until I come back." + +It was quite the reverse, his safety depended upon her, Jerry thought, +but she knew his type. Her need of his help would do more than anything +else to clear his mind. She picked up the tin can she had used as a saw +and went to the door. She looked back. Beechy was lying with closed +eyes, the lines about his mouth relaxed. + +The sun had dropped behind a high mountain. The air was sultry. A tinge +of rose had replaced the gold of the afternoon coloring. In the +southwest an unobtrusive bank of cloud had appeared. The tumbleweed +still stirred with every breath of air but everything else was still. +Jerry could see now, what she had not noticed from above, parallel +grooves in the ground through the middle of the hollow. + +"That's strange! Those ruts look like the marks of wagon wheels, but how +could a wagon get down here?" she thought. She hesitated an instant on +the threshold. Fortunately the pool was on a level with the cabin. Had +the shack been on the opposite side of the hollow she would have had a +ten-foot drop before she reached the level. The small body of water +looked a thousand miles away and the room behind her, which had seemed +sinister and forbidding a while before, seemed a haven of refuge now. So +quickly do values shift in the crises of life. + +"The more you dread the thing you have to do the more you should hustle +to get it behind you," Jerry admonished herself and made a dash for the +pool. For an instant the air seemed full of flapping, dark wings, then +it cleared. She kept her eyes resolutely away from the body of the calf. +The water was low. She had to lie flat to reach it. She wasted time in +trying to dip deep enough to get clear of the tumbleweed which floated +on top. When she had it to her satisfaction she sat back on her heels +and inspected the contents of the dripping can. + +"This will have to do," she announced to the world at large. "I----" + +"That depends on what you're getting it for, don't it?" inquired a voice +behind her. + +The insolence of it, the portent of it, brought Jerry to her feet. The +precious water slopped wastefully. She had the sense of suspended +animation as she looked up at the man sardonically observing her, then a +sense of sudden, ungovernable panic. It was the late manager of the +Double O with the bridle of his horse, The Piker, a big, lanky chestnut, +in his left hand. + +"Ranlett!" + +Her own frightened whisper infuriated her. She had spoken to the man +looming over her as seldom as she conveniently could; always she had +distrusted him. She looked at him now as though seeing him for the first +time. His black hair had a white streak from the middle of his forehead +to his neck, which had earned him the soubriquet of "The Skunk," from +the outfit; his eyes were steel gray, his thin-lipped mouth was nothing +more than a crooked slit in his face, his chin was stubborn. Jerry's +gaze returned to that feature and lingered. Apparently he was as amazed +to see her as she had been startled at his appearance. She felt as +though he had her wriggling under a microscope, pinned by the needle +points in his eyes as he observed caustically: + +"Well, now that you have sized me up it's my turn. What are you doing so +far from the Double O alone? Perhaps you're not alone, what?" His +attitude, the lines of his shoulders, his voice, bristled with +suspicion. + +The girl's mind indulged in one frenzied merry go-round before it +settled down to constructive thinking. For the first time in her life +she was squarely and uncompromisingly up against danger. Ranlett must +not suspect that she had been in the shack, that Beechy was unbound. He +might be in no way responsible for the condition in which she had found +the ex-sergeant, but she couldn't take a chance with Carl's, +"Ranlett--for the love of--did they get you too?" still echoing in her +ears. If she could only get him away from the place. The throbbing pulse +in her throat, which gave the impression of delicate wings beating +futilely against bars, was the only sign of her agitation as she +answered the man's question gayly. + +"I don't wonder you ask, Mr. Ranlett, I'm a sight." She laid a finger +cautiously against her scratched cheek and laughed. That laugh was a +masterpiece of its kind. "I started for Bear Creek to inquire for Mrs. +Carey, but yielded to the temptation to ride to the top of the hill. +Pandora with her box has nothing on me for curiosity. I was born with an +irresistible desire to look on the other side of things and places." The +sudden narrowing of his eyes set her to wondering what false note she +had struck, even as she went on: + +"When I dismounted the better to peer down into this hollow, something +gave a scream as of a thousand furies rampant." Her shudder was genuine. +"The sound did direful things to Patches' nerves. He bolted down the +hill. I bolted after him. I stumbled over something which must have been +the keystone of the slope, or its twin, for the hillside gave way and +landed me in an ignominious heap of dirt and gravel back of that shack. +A rolling body gathers some scratches," she paraphrased flippantly as +she felt again of her bruised face. + +"I'll say you're some little talker, Mrs. Courtlandt, when--when you're +frightened. You've never favored me with a word before," observed +Ranlett insolently. + +Two red spots burned like able-bodied beacons in Jerry's cheeks. She +knew that she had been garrulous, that she had been talking against +time, but it was maddening to be told so; the sound of her own voice had +sustained her courage. Every moment that she held the attention of the +late manager of the Double O counted for Beechy. It took all her +strength of purpose to keep her eyes from wandering to the door of the +shack. It acted like a malevolent magnet. + +"Where is your horse?" + +"Back of the cabin. I came here to get water for him." + +"Have you been in the shack?" + +"In the shack!" the shudder with which the girl turned her back upon it +would have made Nazimova pale with envy. "That--that gruesome place? +Rather not----" + +"Then you are not curious when it comes to empty houses? You're not +consistent, Pandora. Where did you get that can?" + +Jerry felt as though she were under a machine gun fire of words. The +man's insolence infuriated her. She didn't dare resent it for fear he +would leave her and investigate the cabin. She looked down at the can +she still held between finger and thumb, then at the bed of ashes +beside the pool. + +"Did I find it there or behind the shack?" She mused as though +interrogating herself, then quickly, "Is it yours? Take it if you want +it." + +"You know d--ed well that you didn't pick it up outside," Ranlett +exploded as he caught the girl by the shoulder; she felt his hot flesh +through her thin blouse. "You've been in that shack and you've----" + +"Take your hand away! Quick!" Jerry commanded, her voice hoarse, her +face white, her eyes blazing. + +"I'll let you go when I get good and ready." The man sunk his fingers +deeper into her shoulder to emphasize his words. "What's that yellow +coyote in there been telling you----" + +"Nothin' to your advantage, Ranlett. Put up your hands an' put 'em up +quick," interrupted a voice. It was Beechy, Beechy leveling Jerry's +villainous six-shooter at Ranlett's head. His face was white, one eye +was almost closed but he had an air of cocky unconcern. + +"Mrs. Lieut., grab his horse. No you don't!" as the late manager of the +Double O, arms held high above his head, tried to trip the girl. A +bullet whizzed so close to his ear that Ranlett turned a sickly green. +"Yer see, I'm a little nervous. I'm used to this old-time six-shooter; +I've been using a Colt 45. I'll get the range better next time and it'll +come closer. I didn't get my expert rifleman badge in the army for +shootin' crap. Frisk his pockets, Mrs. Lieut." For the fraction of a +second Jerry hesitated. + +"Quick! Get busy, unless you want more of his pack down on us. That's +the stuff! Now you're talkin'," as the girl produced a corpulent +revolver from a hip pocket. Ranlett's voice was hoarse with fury as he +dared: + +"You'll need that gun, Beechy, when Courtlandt finds that you and the +missus have been meeting--you sure have a way with the ladies." + +Jerry's cry was submerged in Beechy's oath. The man's face was like +granite, as gray, as immovable. Only his eyes blazed. His tone was as +cold and passionless as his face. + +"Meanin'? You'll pay for that, Ranlett, but not now. Just for fear your +gang will butt in we'll make our getaway, but remember--I'm comin' back. +I want you and I want the feller that cracked my head. Hand me his gun, +Mrs. Lieut. Lead his horse and yours to the top of the hill and +wait--don't look around--get me?" + +"Yes, I get you, sergeant--but you won't----" Jerry hesitated with the +bridle of Ranlett's big chestnut in her hand. + +"Obey orders and obey 'em quick!" + +And Jerry obeyed. With the unflurried agility Tommy had taught her she +mounted Ranlett's horse and turned him in the direction of the shack. +The animal side-stepped and tried to look in the direction of his master +but the girl touched him with her spurs, and urged him on. She unhitched +Patches. She looked like a slender boy as she led him by a backward +stretched left hand up the slope. The moments that she spent ascending +were one long prayer that the hillside would not encore its disappearing +trick. She felt an irresistible desire to look back but she remembered +the salty fate of Lot's wife and kept doggedly on. + +As she gained the shelter of the pines at the top of the hill she heard +a shot. Her face went white. Who had fired it? Ranlett or Beechy? Beechy +was weak from the blow on his head; he could easily be overcome. She +listened. A flock of magpies lighted in the tree above her, observed the +strange figure below them for a moment then flew away in noisy haste. As +the sound of their raucous voices died in the distance Jerry heard +another sound, the sound of gravel slipping. Who was coming? She hastily +changed mounts and twisted her hand in the bridle of the big horse. If +it were Ranlett she would race at breakneck speed toward Greyson's, the +X Y Z was nearer than the Double O, taking The Piker with her. Her +breath came so hard it hurt her throat. Eyes dilated with excitement she +watched the brow of the hill. The sound of the slipping gravel came +nearer and nearer. Then she heard labored breathing. The suspense was +unendurable; she felt as though she must scream. A man staggered into +sight. It was Beechy. She slipped from her horse and called him softly. + +"This way! Quick!" As he stumbled toward her she noted the pallor of his +face. She didn't dare leave the horses to go to his assistance. With a +bridle in each hand she went forward to meet him. + +"I'm about all--in, Mrs. Lieut.," he panted. "The blow and this climb +have about finished a job the--war--started." + +She slipped her arm under his. Her eyes were tender with concern. + +"Lean on me a moment. You mustn't give way now, Beechy. Get on Ranlett's +horse. We must get away from here. He may follow." He laughed weakly. + +"Follow! Nothing doing. Just to make sure he wouldn't I put a bullet +through his leg. I couldn't have him interferin' with the job you an' I +have to put across. He'll go as far as the shack while the goin's good." + +"But he may starve!" + +"You should worry. There are provisions to withstand a siege cached +under that cabin. Forget him. If you're the good little sport I you are +you've got a job----" + +"Listen!" + +Jerry laid her hand over her heart. Beechy raised his heavy head from +the side of the horse where he had rested it. His eyes narrowed into +mere slits. From the hillside came the sound of slipping gravel. + +"Well, I'll be----" + +"It's Ranlett! He's creeping up!" the girl whispered tensely. "You must +mount. He may have found a gun." Then as he shook his head weakly, "If +you don't I shall stay with you and you may never get a chance to tell +me what I am to do." + +"Help me up!" The white beneath Beechy's skin had changed to crimson. +His teeth clenched as he pulled himself into the saddle. He held tight +to the horn with his two hands. + +"Mount! Quick!" he panted. "Now ride close beside me while I tell +you----" for an instant his eyes lost their purpose. He slipped over to +one side. Jerry caught him and steadied him. + +"'Tention company!" he drawled foolishly as he tried to straighten in +the saddle. + +"You must keep on, Beechy! Grip your mind tight till we reach the +Lieutenant," pleaded the girl, always with one ear turned to the +sinister, slipping sound that drew nearer and nearer up the hillside. It +seemed as though the reference to Courtlandt had power to conjure +strength. With a stifled groan the man eased himself in the saddle. + +"I can ride this way. Don't lose your sand, Mrs. Lieut. I've pulled +through worse scrapes than this. We'll beat 'em yet." + +They left the pines and began the descent of the hill. The innocent +cloud bank in the southwest had spread in great jagged peaks until it +darkened the heavens and the fields beneath them. The stream looked like +a drab ribbon splashed with white. They rode silently. Beechy conserved +his strength. "When we get to the level I'll talk," he vouchsafed once +through blue lips. Jerry kept close beside him. Across the valley lights +were beginning to appear in the X Y Z. She felt as though she were in a +horrid nightmare from which she must waken to find herself safe in her +own charming rooms at the Double O. Beechy's voice dispelled her +illusion. In obedience to a gesture of his she pulled up her horse as +they reached the level. + +"We've got to work quick, Mrs. Lieut. This rustling dope of Ranlett's is +a bluff. When he cut the fences in Lower Field he figured that the +Double O outfit to a man would hunt for the cattle in that +direction--away from the railroad." + +"The railroad!" + +"Yes. Listen. No,--I'm not going to fall.--Not till I've put you wise." +The knuckles of his hand showed white as he gripped the saddle-horn. +"To-night a car, carrying silver bricks from the mint in Philadelphia +goes through on its way to the coast. It's attached to the regular +evening train--it's under armed guard--but--Ranlett----" It was +characteristic of the girl that instead of demanding how he knew she +announced breathlessly: + +"We must reach that train before Ranlett's gang----" + +"You've said it! Ranlett's staged the party at Devil's Hold-up. It's +only fifteen miles from the X Y Z but ten of that fifteen is wilderness. +We've got to stop that train before it reaches Greyson's crossing." + +"I'll ride for the X Y Z and get Bruce Greyson. I don't know where Steve +is," interrupted the girl breathlessly. "You go on to the Double O. The +Piker will know his way there in the dark. About ten o'clock, did you +say?" + +"Yes." Beechy's voice was weaker. "Don't let _anyone_ know but Greyson. +Ranlett has the place honeycombed with spies. I'll stay here for a +while. If he comes--moseying over--the hill----" He slipped suddenly +from the saddle to the ground. He stretched flat on his back. "A-ah! +That's better," he groaned. He tried to smile up into the concerned face +bent over him. "_C'est drole, ca?_ I bragged that I was through with the +good old U. S. A. and the minute I find that I'm caught in a plot +against her I throw up my hands. I knew that Ranlett would kill me if I +backed out but I'd--I'd rather--die." + +"But you're not going to die, Beechy, and we'll win out," the girl +comforted eagerly. "Oh, how can I leave you like this----" + +"Mount that pony again, quick!" He gathered his strength by a superhuman +effort. "Don't think of me. I'll rest here and then I'll move on, I +promise. I want to--get out--of--this scrape as much as--you want me to. +That's right--up you--go." The last word was a whisper. He struggled to +one elbow. "Tell Greyson if he gets a chance--to put a bullet through +the man--Ranlett took on in--my place--that range-rider at Bear-Creek +ranch." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Benson regarded Ming Soy in stunned amazement. Her words, "She never +come back--not all this time," revolved stupidly round and round in his +brain. They had been catapulted into the midst of his passionate +declaration to Peggy; what she would have answered he never would know, +now. The color which the touch of his lips had brought to the girl's +face had faded; she was regarding the Chinese woman with terrified eyes. +She laid a trembling hand on Benson's arm. "Thank God, I haven't made +you hate me," he thought fervently as he gripped her cold fingers in a +comforting clasp. His faith in the wisdom of a surprise attack had been +built upon a rock, after all. + +"Tell me again, Ming Soy, just when Mrs. Courtlandt started and what she +said to you." + +In her excitement Ming Soy's English kept tripping her up, but Benson +was able to get a fairly clear idea of what had happened. + +"I watched her rode--not to the flield she tole me--no--down the road. I +listened for shoots. No shoots. No noding. No noding in flield. When +Ming Soy see you way down road, Ming Soy bleat glong." + +Benson's mind had been working with machine-like speed while he +listened. The girl beside him drew a long, ragged breath. He laid his +lips upon her hand for a moment. + +"Don't worry! I'll find her, Peg-o'-my-heart. She has probably dropped +in at Bear Creek ranch to see that new arrival and has forgotten the +time. Women are like that when there's a baby." He advanced the theory +with a light-hearted laugh which he flattered himself was a marvel of +its kind, but it merely drew a long, quivering sob from the girl. "Just +for company, I'll ride down to meet her." + +"I'll go with you," announced Peggy eagerly. + +"Nothing doing! You'll go back to the house with Ming Soy. Don't let +Hopi Soy work off any of his thrift ideas on the dinner. If Jerry has +been riding all afternoon she'll be famished, and I--I feel as if I +could eat a raw mountain lion this minute. I'll take the horses back to +the corral and get a fresh mount." + +"Please--Tommy--take me?" + +Benson closed his ears heroically against the wiles of his own +particular Circe. He shook his head; his grave eyes met the girl's +squarely. + +"Be a good little sport, Peg. I can go faster without you. Besides, +Jerry may be back before me and she would be anxious if you were not +here." + +"All right, Tommy. Come, Ming Soy." + +Benson could get no satisfaction from the man in charge of the corral. +He questioned him as he watched him shift the saddle from Soapy to a +powerful black. Slowman only knew that Mrs. Courtlandt came for Patches +at about two o'clock. She was humming and laughing softly to herself as +she led him off, quite as though she had heard some good news--or--or +was up to some mischief; women were like that, when they had something +up their sleeves, he'd noticed. None of the boys who had gone after the +Shorthorns had returned. Mr. Courtlandt had 'phoned the corral from +Slippy Bend that he should not be back to the ranch until morning, and +to keep a sharp watch over the horses. + +"By cripes, when he said that," Slowman added as he looked at Benson +with eyes so curiously crossed that they appeared to regard an object +from the north and south extremes of the pole of vision, "it sent the +creeps all over me. It was almost as good as though I'd gone back to the +days of honest-to-God hold-ups an' rustlin's. I'm sorry about Mrs. +Courtlandt, Mr. Tommy, but don't you worry. You'll like as not find her +over takin' care of Jim Carey's baby. I hear the kid's a boy," with a +sheepish grin. + +As Benson rode out from the corral he looked at the bank of clouds in +the southwest and put spurs to his horse. Ming Soy, under +cross-examination, had held stoutly to her statement that Jerry had not +gone to the field back of the ranch-house. He would ride to the B C +first. On the rustic bridge that spanned the stream he stopped to +reconnoiter then went on and rounded the clump of cottonwoods that +screened the Bear Creek buildings from his view. They were beginning to +lose their outline in the deepening gloom. The fast spreading clouds +were letting down a curtain of darkness. + +Benson had ridden but a few hundred yards when he pulled the black up +short. What was that! He listened. The air was still with that curious +sinister calm which precedes a storm. The sound came again. It was the +whinny of a horse but--but--it was not from the direction of the B C +ranch; it came from the level at the foot of the hills beyond. + +Tommy's imaginings as he raced across the field would have provided +material for a five-reel thriller of the most lurid variety. They blew +up like a balloon which has been pricked when he was near enough to the +whinnying horse to discover that it not Patches but Ranlett's favorite +mount, The Piker. He gave voice to a mild but expressive swear-word. + +"Now what's to pay?" he muttered as he flung himself from the saddle and +bent over the outstretched figure half buried in the long grass. He +knelt. "Beechy!" he exclaimed incredulously. "How the dickens did +you----" The recumbent man lifted heavy lids. + +"_Comment ca_----" Returning consciousness cleared the haze from the +blue eyes. "Mr. Benson--you--did she find you--instead of----" his eyes +closed. + +"Beechy! Beechy! Rouse yourself. You must help me," Tommy pleaded. "Have +you seen Mrs. Courtlandt? She's--she's lost! Your Lieutenant can't find +his wife, Beechy!" + +"_Mon Lieutenant_," the blue eyes looked up at Benson dazedly. "What's +that you said, Mr. Benson? Lost his wife? You're wrong, you've got +another guess coming." With cautious effort he raised himself on his +elbow. "Prop me up, that's better. Don't worry about Mrs. Lieut. She's a +good little--sport. She must be getting near the X Y Z by now." His +voice was clearer, the color was coming back to his lips. + +"She's safe--unhurt?" + +"Sure, man--nothin' could happen to a woman like her--don't you know +that? She's ridin' like the devil to cut off----" in his excitement he +jerked himself erect; in the next moment he was a crumpled heap on the +ground. + +Tommy emptied the canteen he had tied to his saddle-horn, for the Lord +only knew what emergency, over the white face. His tense nerves relaxed. +Jerry had been all right when Beechy saw her last and that couldn't have +been so long ago. If she was at Greyson's she was safe--but--what the +dickens had she been doing all the afternoon, he wondered. Now that he +had her accounted for he must get Beechy under cover. With an anxious +glance at the threatening sky overhead he spoke to the man on the +ground. He was quite conscious again. He listened intelligently as Tommy +outlined his plan for getting him to Bear Creek ranch. He wasted no +strength on words but with Benson's help finally mounted The Piker. He +put his arms around the horse's neck and fell forward on his mane. +Benson steadied him with one hand. Side by side the two horses made +their way to the buildings now nothing but a blotch of darkness. + +Jim Carey dashed out of the corral as the two rode up. He was a tall, +good-looking man with black eyes which twitched nervously as he talked. + +"Is that you, Small? Where the devil----" he broke off in astonishment +as he saw the figure flung forward on The Piker's neck. + +"It's not Small, Carey. I'm Benson from the Double O," Tommy called from +out the gloom. "I picked up a man at the foot of the hill who was about +all in. He was Courtlandt's sergeant overseas. Help me get him down, +will you?" + +"We'll take him into Small's cabin. This way." + +The two men carried Beechy into the shack and laid him on a bed. Carey +lighted a lamp. He came back and looked down at the unconscious man as +he lay with his red hair roughly tousled and the bruise under his eye a +purplish red. + +"I'll get Mother Eagan. I--I suppose you know what's come?" Carey asked +with awkward pride. + +"I heard that the stork was playing a one-night stand in this county. Is +Mrs. Carey getting on all right?" Tommy asked as he busied himself +unfastening Beechy's clothes. "What is it, Carl?" he soothed as the +injured man struggled to one elbow, his eyes blazing with excitement. + +"Grab his horse--Mrs. Lieut., I'll get the range better next +time--Ranlett----" he dropped back on the pillow; the fever died down in +his eyes. He looked up into Benson's anxious face. "Don't mind what I +said," he pleaded weakly. "I was dreamin' but--but--I guess you'd better +ride after Mrs. Lieut., and be sure she's all right. Ranlett's +gang----" + +"Ranlett's gang!" both men bent over him. "What do you mean, Beechy?" +Benson asked tensely. + +"Bolster me up! That's right. That infernal pounding inside me's +quieting down." He drew a cautious breath and smiled wanly into the face +above him. "Did you see that? It came as easy as spendin' money. Who's +that? Where am I?" he demanded as he caught sight of Jim Carey and +looked around the room. + +"You are at Bear Creek ranch and this is Carey the owner." + +"Send him out, Mr. Benson. I've got something to say to you." + +"But Carey is----" + +"Send him out," Beechy reiterated weakly and closed his eyes as though +he were again slipping into a coma. + +"You'd better go, Jim. There's some deviltry afoot and Beechy knows what +it is. Send Mother Eagan down in ten minutes if she can be spared." + +Carey looked down at the motionless figure on the bed. + +"I wonder if he knows anything about Small," he whispered. "He left +early this morning and----" + +"You mean?" + +"The same," answered Carey enigmatically and left the cabin. The wind +banged the door after him. Benson could see Beechy wince. Then he was +conscious of what was going on about him. + +"He's gone, Carl," he whispered. + +Beechy's lips twisted in a smile as he opened his eyes, and eased +himself on his elbow. + +"I reckoned we'd shake him if I played 'possum. I'm feelin' better every +minute. Get a paper and pencil, Mr. Benson. I want you to take something +down for me. This bogus heart of mine is likely to pound on for years, +then again it may shut up shop any minute." + +"I'll do it, Beechy, but first, tell me about Mrs. Courtlandt. I must +know that she is safe." + +"She's safe, all right. She started for the X Y Z and Greyson. I kept my +brain steady till she got out of sight. She was ridin' her own horse. +I'm not deceiving you. I wouldn't have any harm come to her for her own +sake, let alone the Lieutenant's. Now you listen and put down what I +tell you, _sabe_?" + +Beechy told the story of his acquaintance with Ranlett, with frequent +pauses for rest and to get his breath. Someone on the border, he +wouldn't tell who, had sent him to the manager of the Double O. Outside +the wind rose steadily. It flung itself against the corners of the small +building, it shook the window frames as a terrier does a rat; the flame +in the lamp flickered and steadied. + +"Get me straight, Mr. Benson," Beechy concluded. "I ain't excusing +myself. I was dead wrong--but Ranlett caught me when I was bitter and +discouraged. He set out as how we were to pull off this hold-up on a +carful of gold belonging to some 1917-18 millionaires that had made +their money in munitions. Then this morning I got a hint 'twas +government money. I up an' had it out with Ranlett. I allowed I'd touch +nothin' belonging to the government. His eyes got like red-hot coals. +'You don't think for a minute you'll get away with turning goody-goody +after hearin' my plans, do you?' says he, his hand twitching. 'No, I +don't, Ranlett,' says I, 'but you want to remember that thievin's one +thing an' murder's another.' Then crack! It was like a shell burstin' +and I didn't know anythin' more till I looked up into what seemed two +shimmery gold stars--the Lieutenant's wife was holdin' me." + +"Who hit you? Ranlett?" + +"Not on your life! He ain't takin' no chances. He wasn't even figurin' +in the hold-up to-night; he is to direct operations from a dugout in the +rear. It was Carey's range-rider." + +"What!" + +"Somewhere he'd found out I was linked up with the Lieutenant. Now you +know why I wouldn't tell before----Who's coming?" + +The knock preceded the entrance of Mother Eagan. She fairly blew into +the room. Her round, shining face was red; she was panting from +exertion. The man on the bed straightened up, smoothed his hair, +adjusted the collar of his shirt and turned reckless, smiling blue eyes +upon his visitor. She was a woman, therefore to be impressed, +irrespective of age or size or charm. That was Beechy, Benson thought as +he watched him. He was a curious combination of characteristics. The +woman looked from one to the other. + +"Where's the man I was sent down to drag back to life?" she asked with a +good-natured chuckle. Her eyes lingered on Beechy. "Sure you don't look +sick to me." + +Benson slipped the paper he held into his pocket. + +"Make him lie down and keep quiet, Mother Eagan, and put something on +that bruise. I'll go on to the X Y Z now that you're being taken care +of, Beechy." + +"Righto. Mr. Greyson may need help in that little matter I was tellin' +you about. Mother Eagan, it sure is good to see you. You're the +handsomest white woman I've seen since I left the border--you----" + +Benson closed the cabin door behind him. Beechy was incorrigible, but +Mother Eagan was fool-proof. She'd laugh and volley back at him while +she made his poor, racked body comfortable. + +When Tommy reached the pack-trail which led toward the X Y Z he pulled +up his horse. He looked back at the buildings of the B C ranch, then +speculatively at the hill behind them. On the other side of that Beechy +had left Ranlett. Suppose, just suppose, that the late manager of the +Double O was not incapacitated to the extent his assailant thought? +Suppose that he should be able to make his getaway? To put the bandits +on their guard? Mrs. Steve was doubtless with Greyson by this time +planning to checkmate the bad men. Wasn't it up to him to make sure of +The Skunk? + +Without giving his bump of caution time to rouse from its habitual state +of coma, Tommy made for the hill. Lightning crackled the sky, the rain +came. + + "'It ain't no use to grumble and complain, + It's every bit as easy to rejoice + When the Lord sorts out the weather and sends rain, + Rain's my choice,'" + +he quoted with cheery philosophy as he pulled the broad brim of his hat +down and the collar of his shirt up. + +The spectral grove was a protection from wind and rain when he entered +it. He dismounted when he reached the pines on the crest of the hill +from which he could look down into Buzzard's Hollow. Fortunately he knew +every foot of the surrounding country. In the years he had been at the +Double O he had explored foot-hills and valleys, had fished in the +streams that crossed them. + +With flash-light in one hand and his forty-five in the other Benson +waited for the lightning. He must get his bearings. The storm rattled +and crashed among the mountains. It was deafening--but--what was that? +In the interval between crashes he had caught another sound. It was the +spasmodic roar and hum of a plane. It was a sinister sound in that place +at that hour. In a flash Tommy's mind reverted to the plane which had +passed over the stream on Sunday. Again he heard Courtlandt's curt +answer to his question, "Nothing, except that your information confirms +me in my suspicion that Marks and Schoeffleur signaled that pilot when +he went over." Was that the reason the two men had been missing this +morning when Gerrish rounded up the outfit to send them in search of the +runaway Shorthorns? + +Benson's hands were like ice as standing behind the bole of a giant +spruce he watched the progress of the aeroplane. The lightning flashed +steadily. Against the glare of the sky the great shape was silhouetted. +Almost instantly as though assured of his bearings, the pilot shut off +his motor and spiraled down toward the hollow. The machine lighted as +softly on the carpet of tumbleweed as might a fluff of thistle-down. It +made a smooth three-point landing. + +"That pilot's a veteran, none of the amateur's bump in his," Benson +muttered, at the same time subconsciously thanking the great god Thor +for his cooperation as he took advantage of a reverberating roll of +thunder to slide down the hillside. He went so amazingly fast that he +would have come up against the wall of the shack with a crash had he not +seized a shrub and stopped himself in time. Through the cracks between +the imperfectly matched boards that made the wall he could see light. On +hands and knees, his heart thumping as only that well-regulated organ +can thump in the breast of a brave man who realizes the risk he is +running, Tommy put his ear to a crack. He heard the sound of voices, his +nostrils were filled with the odor of cigarette smoke. He recognized +Ranlett's high pitched nasal tones. Evidently the pilot had brought a +passenger, for Benson could distinguish two other voices. The late +manager's was weak, as though with pain, but it held an ugly note. + +"That's better, Marks. That'll stop the bleeding. I was a fool to try to +follow that fellow Beechy. But--but I was mad to get at him. Bill Small +swore that he'd fixed him so that he wouldn't move again--I don't know +now whether he believed it or whether he was trying to double-cross me." + +"Nice fella, Beechy. We'd better be getting out of this; he may give the +alarm." Benson had never heard the voice before. It was thick and +guttural and evidently belonged to the pilot. Marks must have been the +passenger. + +"He can't. He's all in. He could hardly get up that hill. Bad heart. +Even if he told the girl----" + +"A girl in it! Good day! I'm through!" + +"Hold on, young feller! Don't get cold feet so easily. I--I don't know +where he met up with her--but--she can't get far. There is no telephone +at the B C and the lines connecting the X Y Z and the Double O with each +other and Slippy Bend are 'Out of order.'" There was a sardonic note in +his voice as he mimicked the stereotyped words. "We're safe, I tell you. +The boys will pull off that stunt and come winging back here laden with +silver bricks before any of that bunch can get anywhere. No one will +think of looking here for the loot; it's too near the centre of +sheriffville. We'll take what silver we can in the plane and the boys +can cache the rest till the excitement has died down. Simms will be +sound asleep in his bed at Upper Farm by the time the authorities get +round to him. He can ship us a silver brick in a tub of butter at his +discretion. I tell you, it's a cinch," he exulted a sound midway between +a chuckle and a groan. + +With a crash, as though the resident giant in a passion of rage had +knocked the rocky crowns of the mountains together, the storm spent +itself. In an incredibly short time the moon began to peer from between +scudding clouds. Benson crept slowly round the shack, his mind seething +with anger and resentment. Both ranches cut off! Where was Mrs. Steve? + +Moving when the moon was obscured, burrowing in the soaked tumbleweed +when it emerged from hiding, Benson made his way slowly and with +infinite caution to the aircraft. He crept round it till the plane, +which looked like nothing so much as a Brobdingnagian bird of prey, was +between him and the shack. He looked up at it. Suppose there were +someone in it! For an instant his heart obstructed his breathing. He +must know. He scratched one wing with his flash-light. To his taut +nerves it seemed as though the sound reverberated among the foot-hills. +Surely a person on guard would respond to that. + +Reassured by the silence within the machine, Benson groped along the +side of the plane until he located the pilot's seat. He climbed in. +Silently expeditiously, he did a few things to the steering gear and +wrecked the throttle. "You won't transport many silver bricks in this, +young feller," he muttered grimly. Knowledge of any kind was a valuable +commodity to have packed in one's kit-bag, he thought, as he cautiously +climbed down from the machine. Thanks to the few months spent in the +hangar of an aviation field in the spring of '17, he had known where and +how to administer body blows. + +By a circuitous route he reached the shack. With jaws set hard to keep +his lips from twitching with nervousness he peered through one of the +dirty windows. The light inside came from a candle stuck in a bottle +which stood on the range opposite the door. Its weird, wavering light +threw ghostly shadows on the walls. Someone was stretched out on the +bunk. A man with an aviator's helmet pushed back on his head sat on the +range, another sprawled on the floor. It was Ranlett on the bunk; Benson +recognized his voice as he replied to a question. + +"Ten o'clock. Better begin to watch out for the rockets soon. Remember, +two green lights if they have pulled it off and want us to wait; two red +lights if we are to beat it. Help me up. I'll get into the plane and +then we won't waste time making our getaway when they come." + +Benson stood rigid. Should he let them get out Of the shack or should he +cover them where they were? If they reached the aeroplane they would +immediately discover the damage and be on their guard. He must keep them +in the shack. Before the two airmen could help Ranlett to his feet he +fired a bullet through the window. It lodged in the wood over the bunk. + +"Stay where you are! Hands up!" he shouted in a gruff voice which +excitement hoarsened. "We have you covered from each window. The man who +moves gets his good and plenty. Gerrish, you cover the chap with the +helmet; O'Neil, make a target of Marks and I'll devote my entire +attention to the Skunk." + +Would his bluff work; would it? Tommy wondered frantically. It did. With +muttered imprecations the two men ranged themselves against the wall, +their hands above their heads. Ranlett sank back on the bunk. They +weren't taking chances. What should he do next, Benson wondered, with a +nervous desire to shout with laughter. He had placed himself so that +without moving he could see any signal which might come from the +direction of Devil's Hold-up. At imminent danger of becoming cross-eyed +for life, he kept one eye on the men and one on the sky above the +region where he knew the railroad to lie. At signs of restlessness in +his prisoners he stole to the other window. He fired a shot which had a +miraculous effect upon their sagging muscles. They stiffened. Benson +with difficulty repressed a chuckle. He had them dancing to the tune he +piped, all right. But what the dickens should he do if the bandits +successfully pulled off their raid on the treasure car? If he stayed +where he was he would be one against a dozen or more desperate men. If +he made a break for safety Ranlett and his choice aggregation of bad men +would escape with their plunder. If--what was that? A green light! Then +Mrs. Steve had not reached Greyson. Another emerald star shot into the +sky. + +"Two green lights if they have pulled it off and want us to wait!" That +was what Ranlett had said. Some fugitive lines flicked tantalizingly on +the screen of Tommy's memory, then steadied: + + "But to every man there openeth + A high way and a low, + And every man decideth + The way his soul shall go." + +That settled it. He'd hold his prisoners and take his chance. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +She had been right in her suspicions of the Man of Mystery, Jerry +thought, as she put spurs to her horse. The words Beechy had called +after her echoed in her mind. "Tell Greyson if he gets a chance--to put +a bullet through the man--Ranlett took on in--my place--that range-rider +at Bear-Creek ranch." It was growing dark. Heavy clouds had rolled up. +She had some difficulty in forcing Patches from the old pack-trail which +eventually led to home and supper. She cut across fields, splashed +through the stream, then headed for the X Y Z ranch-house whose lights +seemed like will-o'-the-wisps. The longer she rode the more they +receded. + +She determined not to worry about Beechy. He had promised that he would +try to get to the Double O and she knew that he would win out. The +unexpected would happen to help him, as nine out of ten times it did +when one was in dire straights. With the thought came a vision of her +father; she could see his massive head, his shrewd eyes, hear his deep +voice saying: + +"I have a firm conviction, that a person can through any worthy thing on +which he is determined; how else do you account for the seeming miracles +of heroism men got away with in the World War? The test is, how much do +you want it? I've gone on that principle all my life and it's worked, I +tell you, it's worked." + +It was curious how that memory of her father vitalized her. Jerry +straightened in the saddle. She felt as though she had been warmed, fed, +had had the elixir of courage poured through her veins. Beechy would +come through. All she need think of was her part. + +It was quite dark when she reached the X Y Z. The air stirred in hot +gusts; from far off came the rumble of thunder. Patches was matted with +sweat and dust. Ito, the Jap, opened the door in response to her knock. +From behind him came the sound of voices, the tinkle of silver, the +ripple of a woman's laugh. Felice Denbigh! Jerry had forgotten her. For +an instant she visualized the gold hair, the gold eyes with their +tigerish spots, the alluring chiffoned daintiness of the woman. With a +shrug she looked down at her own torn, dusty riding clothes. She would +hate to meet the ultra fashionable Mrs. Denbigh now. Felice must not +know that she had come; she might ruin everything. Jerry had an +intuition that she would stop at nothing to humiliate the girl Steve had +married. She caught the astonished Ito by the lapels of his coat and +drew him into the shadow. + +"It is Mrs. Courtlandt, Ito. I must see Mr. Greyson. Don't tell him who +it is, though. Say--say that--that the ranch boss wants to see him." + +The Jap's yellow mask of a face did not for a moment lose its +imperturbability. + +"All lie will I tell him, honorable lady. Keep in dark when I door make +open." + +Jerry sank to a bench among the vines; weary Patches sagged in the +shadows. For an instant it seemed as though life drained out of her, as +though she were being swept along the tide of indifference to +unconsciousness. For the first time she realized that she had had but +two hours' sleep in almost forty-eight hours. She forced herself erect. +She pulled off her hat which she had crushed down over her forehead when +she started on her wild ride to the X Y Z. It was a relief to get it +off. She could think better. She dropped it to the bench beside her. A +ray of light from somewhere set the gold in the cord glinting. Where was +the owner of that hat, she wondered. Had Steve gone into the mountains? +Would Tommy and Peg be anxious when she did not appear for dinner? She +did not dare 'phone them for fear that in some way Ranlett might get a +clue to her errand. She started forward as the door opened and closed +and Greyson's voice demanded sharply: + +"What's to pay, McGregor?" + +"It isn't McGregor, it's Jerry Courtlandt," the girl whispered. "Shs-s! +Take me somewhere we can talk and not be overheard." + +He led her to a clump of trees near the entrance to the drive; her horse +followed with his head close to the girl's shoulder. The branches swayed +in the wind. Even in the dusk she could see the eddies of dust in the +road. The atmosphere seemed electrically alive. Jerry shivered and +seized a fold of Greyson's sleeve. + +"I--I just want to make sure you're really here--it's so--so dark I can +hardly see you," she apologized shakily. His hand closed over hers. His +voice was tense as he demanded: + +"What has happened, Jerry? What has brought you to me like this?" For +the first time she was conscious of the absurdity of her costume, of her +delicate, torn blouse with its bandana addition, her linen breeches and +riding boots. She flung the thought of her appearance from her mind and +plunged into explanation. Greyson questioned when she had finished: + +"Are you sure? How did Beechy know?" + +Jerry's eyes widened. + +"I never thought to ask," she confessed. "I just believed what he told +me and I know, I know that he was telling the truth. What shall we do? +We must hurry--hurry----" For what seemed an eternity of time to her +Bruce Greyson was silent. The wind rose and whistled and whined. Jerry +was quivering with impatience when he spoke. + +"The train must be flagged before it reaches the X Y Z. I'll run the +flivver to the crossing and try to get down the track. It's a mad scheme +but it's the only chance. We couldn't get to the station at Slippy Bend +in time if we tried. I'll take one of the men to wave a lantern----" + +"You'll take me," interrupted Jerry breathlessly. The amazing audacity +of the plan thrilled her with its possibilities. "We mustn't take a +chance with a third party. Beechy warned me that Ranlett had +sympathizers everywhere. We can't trust one of the men." + +"But there is a tremendous storm rising. What if Steve----" + +"Steve may not be at home to-night; what he doesn't know won't trouble +him. Tommy and Peg will have to worry. Individuals must be sacrificed to +the good of the government, or words to that effect." Her spirits were +mounting now that she had secured an ally. "Felice must not know that I +am here." + +"I'll have Ito make my apologies to Mrs. Denbigh. He can tell her that I +have been called away suddenly. He can also tel--slip down to the front +gate and wait for me. I'll take your horse to the corral. If the men +notice him at all, they win think merely that you have taken refuge from +the storm." + +Crouched against the shrubs near the gate the girl waited. A lurid flash +in the heavens gave an instant's glimpse of the ranch-house, the white +fences of the corral. Then came the crash of thunder and utter darkness. +There was a sound as of a fusillade of bullets on the hard road. "Here +comes the rain!" Jerry murmured. The words were drowned in a sudden +hissing downpour. She peered at the illuminated dial of her watch. Nine +o'clock! In just one hour the train was due at Devil's Hold-up. Could +they stop it? She listened. Was that the sound of wheels? Yes. Greyson +was coasting the machine down the slight incline toward her; there was +no sound of the engine. While it was still in motion she sprang to the +running-board, took her seat and closed the door softly. Not a moment +had been lost. For the first time she felt the rain beating on her bare +head; it stung her shoulders through her thin blouse. The top of the car +had been thrown back. She put her hand up. Her hat! Where was it? Then +she remembered that she had flung it on the bench beside Greyson's +front door. "Being hatless is the least of my troubles," she thought +buoyantly as she peered forward into the darkness. At the foot of the +incline Greyson bent to the lever. + +"Now we're off," he whispered. "There is a lantern at your feet. Light +that." + +On her knees in the bottom of the car Jerry struggled with the lantern. +The flivver bounced and swerved as the driver tried to force the engine +belonging to the hundreds class to speed achieved only by the thousands. +After using a profusion of matches, and--anathemas when she burned her +fingers, Jerry lighted the lantern. She gave a long sigh of relief as +she slipped back into her seat. + +"It's done! The bottom of the car looks as though there had been a +massacre of matches, just as the floor round Steve's chair looks when he +is smoking his pipe, but what are a few matches at a time like this? +What can I do next?" + +"Jerry, you amazing girl! Nothing--nothing seems hard or impossible when +you have a share in it," Greyson burst out impetuously. He steadied his +voice and directed, "When we come to the gate get out and open it. I'll +run through to the crossing. Be sure that you fasten the gate securely +behind you. No sane person will think of our getting down the track this +way. No sane person would think of attempting it," he added under his +breath. + +Once through the gate Greyson cautiously steered the car off the +crossing on to the track which paralleled that on which the west-bound +train would come. He manipulated the motor until the left-hand wheels of +the car hugged the inside of one rail and the right-hand wheels were in +the road-bed. He waited for flashes of lightning to show him the way. +They came almost incessantly. The thunder crashed and rumbled as though +the gods of the mountains were playfully pitching TNT shells for +exercise. + +"This is going to be one little stunt," the man confided to the girl as +she took her seat beside him. "Keep the lantern in your hand. When I say +'Ready' stand up on the seat and wave like mad. Now we're off, and may +the gods be good to us!" + +It wasn't a heathen god whom Jerry Courtlandt importuned. She never +looked back upon that wild ride without a renewed thanksgiving that the +prayer in her heart had been answered, without a reminiscent ache in +every bone of her body, without seeing a close-up of Greyson, +tense-jawed and wrinkle-browed bent over the wheel. He drove with his +eyes intent on the tracks which seemed glistening streaks of fire when +the lightning flashed. The swift transitions from dazzling light to inky +darkness blinded her. It would always remain one of the inexplicable +miracles to the girl that the flivver did not capsize. She felt no fear +at the time. Only when from behind them came the sound as of a hundred +furies let loose did she shudder. + +"Is--is that a pack of wolves?" she whispered hoarsely. + +"Coyotes. Two can make as much noise as a dozen of anything else. Hear +that? Begin to wave! Ready!" + +Jerry scrambled to the seat. She lost her balance as the car careened +tipsily. She clutched Greyson's hair with a violence which wrung a +stifled "Ouch!" from the victim. + +"I'm sorry. My mistake! I wasn't trained as a bareback rider," the girl +apologized with an hysterical ripple of laughter. + +"Wave! Wave!" Greyson shouted above the din of the storm. + +The girl waved her lantern in curving sweeps. At first she could hear +nothing, see nothing, then above the noise of their own wheels she heard +a rumble which quickly increased to a roar. Then came a light and behind +it a creature which might have belonged to the ancient order of +Compsognatha, so long was it, so sinuous, so sinister. It was the train. +Jerry waved frantically. Surely, surely the engineer must see her light. +She caught her breath and held it as the roar grew deafening and the +monster came leaping, writhing, pounding on. + +"They see us! They see us!" she shouted, and laughed exultantly all the +while waving the lantern madly. The whistle of the oncoming engine blew +a frenzied warning. Greyson turned his wheel way over. The flivver +literally jumped the rails and ran along a siding which joined the main +track. The girl slid into her seat limp with exhaustion. With groaning +and grinding of brakes and clanking of wheels the long train trembled to +a stop. Which one of the cars carried the treasure, Jerry wondered, just +as a rough Irish voice thundered in her ear: + +"For the love of Mike! What we got here? Escaped lunatics, or I miss my +guess." The light of a lantern was flashed in the faces of the occupants +of the car. The man who held it swore with an ease and facility which +took Jerry's breath. "It's a man and a woman, crazy as coots," he called +to someone behind him. Then in a magisterial tone, "It's a hunch we got +the new division superintendent aboard this trip. He can see for himself +what held us up; he'd never believe it if I told him. Now what'd you +flag this train for?" demanded the violator of the second Commandment, +truculently. A group of men had gathered round him. + +Greyson stepped from the flivver and drew Jerry after him. What would +he say, she wondered anxiously. Their errand must not be suspected. They +must get aboard the train and interview the division superintendent. A +sudden mad thought suggested itself. Without an instant's hesitation +Jerry slipped her arm under Greyson's, rested her head against his +sleeve and smiled audaciously into the broad, weather-beaten face +glowering at her. + +"Don't scold, Mr. Brakeman. It was reckless, but--but--you see, we just +had to flag this train. We--we want to get to the coast. +We're--we're--eloping." + +"Good God!" + +Greyson's inarticulate protest was submerged in the hoarse ejaculation. +Jerry wheeled. Behind her stood Stephen Courtlandt. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +It seemed to Steve as he looked at the girl, with her hair, which wind +and rain had lashed into clinging tendrils of glinting bronze, pressed +close against Greyson's arm, that his universe tore itself from its +orbit and hurtled into fathomless space. For thirty throbbing seconds +the blue eyes challenged the brown, then he turned away. + +"Courtlandt!" called Greyson dominantly, but Steve was speaking to the +division superintendent who, white with anxiety, had hurried up. + +"Sure they'll have to go along with us, Steve," reassured the autocrat +of the train. He turned to Greyson. "We'll take you to the coast, all +right, but you won't get off the train till you've paid a good fat fine +for stopping it. You and the lady get aboard, pronto. Steve, lock her up +in one of the compartments. I'll look after the man. Mac, if anything +else tries to hold us up you shoot and shoot quick, no matter if there +are skirts mixed up in it." He rushed off in company with the burly +brakeman. Greyson caught Courtlandt's arm. + +"Look here, Steve, you must listen. Jerry----" + +"You needn't apologize for my--my wife, Greyson. She's coming with me." +He put his hands none too gently on the girl's shoulder. + +"But, Steve, you don't understand," Jerry protested. "I----" + +"All aboard there!" yelled the brakeman angrily. Steve fairly lifted the +girl to the platform of the Pullman. He hurried her along the corridor +to a compartment. + +"Come in here, Jerry, and no matter what you hear don't come out. I'll +send the maid to help you get your clothing dry." He turned to go, but +she laid her hand on his arm. + +"Steve, you must listen to me. I want to tell you----" + +"What can you tell me except that you love Greyson and ran away with +him? I can't hear that now--I won't. You're mine and I keep what is my +own. And remember this, if you try to communicate with him while you are +on this train--I'll shoot him." His eyes were black; there was a white +line about his nostrils. + +"Steve, you're all wrong,--but if you won't trust me----" she shrugged +the remainder of the sentence. Then her voice was pleading. "Did +Bruce--Mr. Greyson,--get a chance to speak to the division +superintendent?" + +"Did he? I'll say he did. What Nelson isn't saying to your--your gallant +friend at this minute, isn't worth saying." He looked at her +suspiciously as she laughed. He took a step nearer. + +"No, I shan't have hysterics, Stevie. Now that I know that my gallant +friend, as you call him, is explaining our late plan to the division +superintendent, I haven't a care in the world,--in fact," with a dainty, +politely repressed yawn, "if I could have this place and the maid to +myself, I might take a nap. I shall have plenty of time. It is a long +way to the coast," with another irrepressible ripple of laughter. Then +as he lingered, "You needn't stand guard. I shan't run away again. An +encore lacks the snap of a first performance," audaciously. + +Courtlandt opened his lips to reply, thought better of it, closed the +door smartly behind him and went in search of the maid. Back in the +compartment which the division superintendent used as an office he +lighted his pipe, and paced the floor back and forth, back and forth as +he tried to marshall order from the chaos of his thoughts. Why didn't +the fool train start, he wondered, as he listened to what seemed an +endless amount of backing and starting and grinding of brakes. + +His mind went back to the moment in Lower Field when Johnny Simms had +handed him a letter and bolted. He could see every word on the +tear-blotted page now: + + "Ranlett doesn't want the cattle. He cut the fences so that the + Double O outfit would follow the Shorthorns into the mountains. + He and his bunch are figurin' to rob the west-bound to-night at + Devil's Hold-up. Government silver. Watch out! Ranlett has + spies everywhere." + +There had been no signature, no mention of Simms, but Courtlandt felt +sure that he was in on the deal and that the wife was trying to keep her +husband from being caught in what might easily prove to be more than +robbery. His first reaction from the message had been amused +incredulity. It was absurd to believe that in these enlightened days a +man of Ranlett's intelligence, and he was infernally intelligent, would +try to get away with such a mid-eighties stunt. The sense of amusement +was succeeded by startled conviction. The fact was that Ranlett did +think he could put it across and was to make the attempt that night. He +must hustle through his work and make Slippy Bend in time to board the +train. He could neither wire nor 'phone if it were true that Ranlett had +spies everywhere. He must keep his own counsel until he could talk with +the official in charge of the west-bound. + +After that he had followed trails and conferred with ranch section +heads. As clouds began to spread out from the southwest he galloped +into Slippy Bend. He had supper in a leisurely fashion at the one +hotel, dropped into the post-office for a chat with Sandy, who was +sorting his mail for the morrow's trip, and discussed crops and stock +and tractors with the group of men gathered there. He had reached the +railroad station about ten minutes before the treasure train was due. He +hailed the railroad man-of-all-work whose slouch relegated him +unquestionably to the preefficiency era. + +"West-bound on time? I'm going up the line to follow some steers that +have mysteriously wandered off. I'm not looking for trouble, but----" He +tapped the holster which hung from his belt. Baldy Jennings, whose head +resembled a shiny white island entirely surrounded by a fringe of red +hair, chewed and spat with intriguing accuracy as he listened. Steve's +explanation had precipitated a flow of observation. + +"Shucks! The world's sick. Most of it don't want to work and them that +does won't be let by them that don't. The majority seem to figur' that +it's a darned sight easier to pick the other man's pocket than to fill +their own by honest sweatin' labor. Sure, it never wa'n't none of my +butt-in, but I used to tell old man Fairfax that Ranlett was narrer +between the horns. Oh, you don't hev to mention no names, I know who +took them steers,--but cripes, it didn't do no good, he wouldn't listen +to Baldy Jennings. And now the coyote's knifed you! An' your old man +givin' him every chanct. Human natur'! Human natur'! Well, I gotta get +busy. The railroad don't pay me sixty bucks per fer swappin' talk even +with the owner of the Double O. Here comes the west-bound." A shrill +whistle echoed back and forth among the hills like a shuttlecock. The +vibration of the rails announced the coming train. + +Courtlandt's pipe went out, he stopped his restless pacing of the narrow +compartment as he visualized the first person who had stepped from the +train. It had been Nelson who had been a captain in the battalion in +which Steve had served overseas. His face, which had been white and +tense when he reached the platform, had suffused with color as he +recognized Courtlandt. + +"Well, you can knock me for a gool, if it isn't the Whistling Lieut.!" +he cried eagerly. "What are you doing in this teeming mart of trade?" he +added, as he glanced at Baldy Jennings staring open-mouthed at the +meeting and beyond him to the few coatless, vested, bearded favorite +sons who leaned against the sagging building. + +Courtlandt had laughed. When the fog of surprise had lifted he had seen +that the years had not changed Nelson. His black eyes were as keen as +ever, his little mustache had the same moth-eaten effect, the network +of veins on his slightly bulbous nose were redder perhaps, and he was in +civilian clothes. That realization wrinkled Steve's brow in perplexity. + +"What are you doing here? Last I heard you had joined the regular army +and were stationed somewhere around Phila----" Perception of the +situation came in a blinding flash. Nelson's eyes met his steadily. + +"There are some occasions when a soldier appears in mufti. Especially +when he is passing as the newly appointed division superintendent of a +railroad." Steve drew a breath. So that was it. His eyes traveled over +the train. Which was the treasure car? Obviously the one in the middle +which looked like an ordinary baggage-car. The rest were brilliantly +lighted coaches, from the windows of which eyes peered out curiously, +indifferently or interestedly as the temperaments and minds behind them +dictated. His glance came back to Nelson. + +"You're the man I'm looking for. I've lost some cattle, and I'm going up +the line a way to look for them. I must give you all particulars. I'm +counting on you to help me, if there should happen to be any rough stuff +pulled off, see?" + +The two men had stood apart from the confusion of the station. The rain +beat down. Over among the mountains thunder and lightning held high +carnival. Courtlandt drew Nelson into the lee of the building. He struck +a match and held it above his pipe till the wood burned down to his +fingers. In the flickering light he and the superintendent, pro tem., +had regarded one another steadily. Nelson moistened his lips: + +"Sure, I see, Steve. Glad to have you along." He raised his voice as one +of the train hands approached. "Make yourself comfortable in my +quarters. Perhaps I can find a couple to make up a little game." + +Courtlandt was quite unconscious of the rumble of the train as in +imagination he relived the time he had spent waiting for Nelson to join +him in the double compartment which had been fitted up as an office for +the superintendent. Minutes seemed hours. When he did come the smile had +left his lips. His eyes were stern. He closed the door with a bang. + +"Deal out what's coming, quick!" he had commanded and Steve had told him +almost word for word what Mrs. Simms had written. "You're sure of this?" + +"I've given the message as it came to me. The person who sent the +warning had every reason to keep mum." + +"I get you." Nelson pulled down a map which was rolled against the side +of the car. He studied the maze of lines and dots and dashes. "Going +along with us?" he had asked casually. + +"The surest thing you know." Steve remembered how absurdly light-hearted +he had felt. Nelson looked so thoroughly equal to his job. + +"Then you'd better--now what the devil is _that_?" he growled as the +engine blew a furious warning and the brakes ground on with a suddenness +which threw both men against the desk. "We can't have reached Devil's +Hold-up yet." + +And then--Courtlandt's crowding thoughts had reached the moment when he +had heard a girl's voice say: + +"Don't scold, Mr. Brakeman. It was reckless--but--but, you see, we had +to flag this train--we--we want to go to the coast. We're--we're +eloping!" + +Jerry and Greyson! And he would have staked his life that she was true +blue, that even if she felt that she could never love the man she had +married she would have trampled temptation. The intolerable ache in +Steve's heart maddened him. She should not carry out this mad plan. He +wouldn't let her go if she hated him eternally. He'd make her love him, +love him as he had loved her from the moment he had looked up to see her +enter the living-room of Glamorgan's apartment. He had been so +infernally proud that he had tortured himself by pretending indifference +and now he had been brutal. He should have let her explain--he'd go now +and listen to what she had to say. God help him to act the man no matter +what it was. He would be tender, he would be sympathetic--but--he'd +never give her up. + +Nelson entered and closed the door softly behind him. His face was +white, there were tiny flecks of foam on his lips, his eyes blazed. + +"In five minutes we'll slow down to a crawl before entering Devil's +Hold-up. The bandits counted on that. I'll go forward to the cab. Trail +along after me. Leave your holster here. The passengers mustn't get the +idea that we're packing guns; get me?" + +"I get you. Where is Gr--where is the man who flagged the train?" + +Nelson turned with his hand on the door-knob. + +"In the car back locked into a compartment with an armed guard before +it. He wanted to talk but I wasn't taking chances with any middle-aged +Lochinvar until after we'd passed the Hold-up. Got the woman in the case +locked up, haven't you?" + +"Yes, she----" Courtlandt cut off the explanation he was about to offer. +Why enlighten Nelson? If he could keep Jerry's name out of the mix-up, +so much the better. Greyson wouldn't be likely to talk. + +"All right, see that she doesn't break loose. A girl who would flivver +along a railroad track would have to be roped and tied to keep her out +of a wild party like this or I miss my guess." + +Steve looked unseeingly at the door as it closed behind Nelson. He was +right; it would be like Jerry to get into the mix-up. He would stop at +her compartment as he went forward and make sure that she was there. He +unfastened the holster from his belt and flung it to the desk. With a +slight bulge in the region of the hip pocket of his riding breeches he +left the office. At the door of the compartment in which he had left +Jerry he knocked. + +There was no answer. He tapped again and listened. There was no sound +inside save the creaking of woodwork and springs as the car swayed with +the grinding of wheels. Courtlandt whitened. Could she have left her +room? With quick impatience he opened the door and stepped inside. In +his surprise he slammed it behind him. Jerry, rolled in a blanket, lay +in the bunk asleep. + +Even the noise he had made did not rouse her. Evidently the maid had +taken her clothing to dry it, for she was blanketed like a mummy from +her feet to her dimpled chin. Courtlandt crossed the narrow space +between them and looked down upon her. Her hair was spread over the +pillow to dry, her dark lashes lay like fringes, the one cheek visible +had a long red scratch, a bare foot hung over the edge of the bunk. Her +sleep was so profound that she barely breathed. + +Why was she so exhausted, Steve wondered anxiously. In a flash he +remembered. She had been up all the night before with Mrs. Carey. Was it +only last night that he had taken her to the B C ranch? It seemed weeks +ago. No wonder that she was tired; she couldn't have had much sleep in +the last forty-eight hours. What did the bruise mean? He leaned over her +and touched it lightly. It was not a recent scratch. Very gently he +raised the pink foot which swayed with every motion of the car and +covered it with the blanket. He looked down upon the girl for a moment. +With jaw set and the veins in his temples standing out like cords he +went out and closed the door behind him. + +The train barely crawled as Courtlandt swung from the step of the coach +to the ground. His eyes were strained; there was a white line about his +lips as he pulled himself up into the gangway between tender and engine. +The storm had rolled east-ward. Above the distant mountains a broad and +yellow moon played at hide-and-seek with fleecy remnants of cloud. Stars +appeared dimly, reconnoitered for a moment, then shone with steady +brilliancy. Nelson, seated on a tool-box in the cab, rolled a cigarette +with slightly unsteady fingers. The engineer had his head out of the +window; his assistant was tinkering a bit of balky machinery. Nelson +looked up as Courtlandt appeared. + +"Did you come out to see the wheels go round Steve? I'd rather ride here +than anywhere else myself. What the devil! What's to pay now, Hawks?" as +the engineer ground on the brakes. + +"Boulder on the track," rumbled the sooty man. He turned white under the +soot as his eyes crossed in a futile endeavor to look along the shiny +blue nose of an automatic in the hand of his grimy assistant. + +"Hands up, all of you! Come over here, Hawks. You gentlemen can talk to +me while my friends give the train the once-over." + +"Well, I'll be----" + +"You sure will if you talk," growled the grimy one, looking like a +popular conception of his satanic majesty sans horns. Courtlandt and +Nelson who had been caught completely off guard by this attack from +within, stood with upraised arms. "Now, what t'ell!" The gun swayed for +the fraction of a second as a figure slid down over the coal in the +tender and landed in a crumpled heap in the gangway. Courtlandt seized +the opportunity. By the aboriginal expedient of kicking his victim +smartly in the shin he surprised the grimy one into a howl of pain. +Instinctively one hand reached for the aching member. Steve seized the +revolver. + +"You're some gunman," he jeered. "Go back into that corner and sit +down!" And Satan's understudy, shorn of all of his gun and two-thirds of +his bravado--went. "Hawks, tie his feet and hands. Here's his gun. +Nelson, I can manage if you want to give orders elsewhere. What have we +here?" + +The man who had fallen from the tender had struggled to his feet. He +braced himself against the side of the cab. His hair was matted down +over his eyes, his khaki shirt was in strips, his breeches and riding +boots were caked with mud; evidently he had been a rider before he +turned bandit, Courtlandt thought as he covered him with his forty-five. +Hawks was standing guard with his prisoner's own automatic. Fate has a +keen sense of comedy. + +"What's your business?" Steve demanded. The man made an evident effort +to rally his senses. His voice was low and broken as he answered: + +"There are twenty men in the gap--waiting for this train--the +silver--bricks. Here--here are the names----" He fumbled in his shirt. +Steve watched him with wary eyes, his finger on the trigger of his gun. +The trussed man in the corner swore volubly. The engineer silenced him +with the toe of his boot. Courtlandt took a step nearer the gasping, +groping man. The light was dim, if he were tricking him--but he wasn't. +With painful effort he produced a paper. His right arm hung helpless. A +red spot the size of a nickel appeared on the breast of his shirt. "Here +it is. I--I played into Ranlett's hands with the steers--Steve." He +collapsed in a heap on the floor. + +"Steve!" + +Courtlandt was on his knees beside him echoing his name. He slipped his +arm under the bent head. The man looked up with a laugh that died in a +painful rattle in his throat. + +"You didn't know me, Steve?" + +"Denbigh!" + +"Don't take it so hard, this--this scratch isn't anything. I--I swore +I'd square myself with the world and--and my conscience. I've been +playing my cards for this grand slam for weeks. Somehow Ranlett got wind +that the silver--was to--be shipped sometime this month. When I found +that Beechy was your man I dropped him a hint as to the ownership of the +treasure he was after--then--then--I took care of him for Ranlett--see? +You'll find him stunned but unhurt in the shack in Buzzard's Hollow. +No--don't interrupt--let me talk while I can--they'll be here in a +minute. To-night they must have been watching me. When I tried to slip +away Simms fired. I--I rolled over the cliff--they must have thought +that finished me--it did--almost--but I was determined to get here. Keep +those names--I--hope--I've saved the government's money." + +His head fell back on Courtlandt's shoulder, his eyes closed for a +moment. Then with, almost superhuman effort he rallied: + +"I can't drift off yet. Two green rockets--in my shirt. As--soon as +you've caught the gang--send those up. They'll keep Ranlett and--and the +others in the Hollow till--you get there. They mean that--that----" +Courtlandt had to put his ear close to Denbigh's lips to hear the last +words. He laid him down and reached into his shirt for the rockets. +Nelson appeared. + +"Leave him, Steve, I need you. I've sent a gang out to move the boulder. +We'll let the bad men think they've fooled us. Half the passengers on +this train are regulars in mufti. Little ol' Uncle Sam isn't taking +chances when he ships silver bricks to the coast. Here they come! Look!" +in a hoarse, excited whisper. + +Out from between crevices and behind cottonwoods stole sinister shadows. +The men trying to remove the boulder from the track worked steadily. +The night was so still after the storm that Steve could hear their hard +breathing, their gruff commands and the clink of metal against rock as +they attacked the granite. The man in the corner opened his lips to +shout a warning but Hawks stuffed his mouth full of oily waste before he +could utter a sound. Nelson oozed delighted anticipation. + +"Good Lord, man!" Steve exploded, "you haven't crossed the bridge yet. +Those men are after the government's money and they're going to put up a +stiff fight for it." + +"So they are, so they are, little ol' Steve, but they won't get it. We +dropped the treasure car, the last lighted Pullman with the silver +bricks in it, off on the siding where those crazy elopers flagged us. +Your Uncle Dudley wasn't taking any chances." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +"After all, it has been absurdly like the fake attack and repulse of +bandits in a musical comedy, except--except for Phil," Courtlandt +thought two hours later. "And here's where the female portion of the +audience would adjust hats and grope under the seats for missing +articles," he added, as from the platform of the train he watched a +splotch of darkness move slowly up the main street of Slippy Bend, en +route for the jail. The act had lacked none of the usual colorful stage +setting. There had been a starry heaven overhead, the dim outlines of +the rocky gap for a back-drop, clumps of cottonwoods and aspens for side +wings and for the crowning touch, two green rockets had sped skyward. + +The attacking party had boarded the train with just the right amount of +theatrical bravado, but something went wrong. Someone must have +hopelessly mixed the cues, for instead of towering over their shrinking +victims the bandits had found themselves staring dumbly along the +snub-noses of Colts in the trigger-quick hands of veterans. Denbigh's +list had been checked off and, save for Ranlett and Marks, every man +named on it was now being personally conducted up the silent street. + +Phil had made good, gloriously good, Courtlandt exulted as he made his +way to the baggage-car where Denbigh lay on the floor, his eyes closed, +his face flushed with fever. Steve knelt beside him, and laid a cool +hand on his forehead, but the wounded man did not move. Nelson climbed +into the car. + +"They've brought the stretcher, Steve. I'll attend to moving him while +you get the girl off the train. I've sent for a doctor." + +With his pulses hammering Courtlandt knocked at the door of the +compartment in which he had left Jerry asleep. There was no answer. Had +she gone? He knocked again, this time with a peremptoriness augmented by +the fear in his heart. + +"Come in!" a cool voice answered. + +Steve entered the compartment. From across the small room Jerry, dressed +as she had been when she flagged the train, contemplated him with +unfriendly eyes. Her blouse and linen breeches showed stains of mud and +weather but they had been mended and pressed. Her boots, with the big +rowels still attached, had been cleaned. Her hair, brushed till it shone +like satin, had been coiled in place; even the scratch on her cheek had +been reduced in color if not in length. Her lips were disdainful, her +face curiously colorless as she challenged: + +"Well!" + +"We are back at Slippy Bend. We must leave the train at once. There has +been----" + +"I know. The maid told me of the hold-up and that--that someone was +hurt. I feared--I feared"--even her lips whitened--"I--I've been so +anxious----" She caught her breath in a strangled sob. "She said that it +wasn't one of the train-hands or--or--a soldier, and I--I thought----" + +"Don't worry, it wasn't Greyson," Courtlandt cut in brusquely; his eyes +flamed a warning. "It--it was Phil Denbigh." + +"Phil Denbigh! You don't mean the man Felice married?" + +"Yes--alias Bill Small, the range-rider at the B C." + +"And he--a man like that--was one of the gang?" + +"No, no! Phil was in it to get information, to give warning. He is +entitled to an honorable discharge from his conscience now. His +testimony will rid this part of the country of about twenty +undesirables, the missing Marks and Schoeffleur among them." + +She looked up in dumb incredulity for a moment, then she laughed. + +"So--o, the treasure would have been saved anyway without--without----" +There was another irrepressible ripple of mirth before she asked, "Has +Bruce--has--Mr. Greyson been told?" + +Her laughter, her reference to Greyson snapped Courtlandt's +self-control, which was already strained to the limit of endurance. Even +his lips were white as he caught her by the shoulders. + +"I don't know what Greyson has been told, but he'll get it straight from +me that you are mine--mine----" With sudden savage ruthlessness he +caught her in his arms and kissed her shining hair, her throat, her +eyes. He let her go. "Now perhaps _you_ understand it too," he announced +huskily. + +Jerry shrank as far away from him as the narrow space would allow. The +color burned in her cheeks, her eyes blazed. + +"You--you have no right to--to do that!" she reminded breathlessly. + +"Haven't I?" + +"Don't stand there looking like a lion ready to spring. I--I won't have +it! You promised----" + +"That is humorous. When you ran away with Greyson were you keeping your +promise? At least, you'll acquit me of making love to--another woman. +I----" The door was thrown open violently and Nelson shouted: + +"Get that girl off quick, Steve! We leave in five minutes." The last +words died in the distance as he hurried along the corridor. + +"Come!" Courtlandt commanded, and with a curious look up into his eyes +Jerry preceded him from the compartment. As she stepped from the train +she fell almost into her sister's arms. + +"Peggy!" she gasped in astonishment. + +"Where the dickens did you drop from, Peg-o'-my-heart? Why are you at +Slippy Bend at this unholy hour?" Steve demanded peremptorily. + +"Ye gods! Don't ask me why! For information apply to Ito. I only know +that while I was walking the floor at the Double O, wild with anxiety, +that Jap tragedian appeared and announced that he must see the excellent +Mr. Benson. When I succeeded in convincing him that I couldn't produce +the excellent Mr. Benson, he explained that he must take me to Slippy +Bend to meet Mrs. Courtlandt, by order of his honorable master." + +"His master!" Jerry and Courtlandt echoed in unison. + +"That was what he said. He did deign to explain that he had been told to +telephone, but that as all lines were out of order he came himself to +give the message to Mr. Benson. When he found that Tommy wasn't there he +insisted upon bringing me to Slippy Bend himself." + +"Where is Tommy?" + +"Don't snap, Steve. I don't know. I'm one little walking encyclopedia of +ignorance to-night," with a sob which she valiantly tried to strangle at +its birth. "Jerry, where have you been? That Chinese woman of yours met +Tommy and me when we returned from our ride with some incoherent stuff +about your having gone off with a gun. That sent Tommy in a mad rush +after you. All I could get out of the Oriental while I was waiting was, +'Missee tlell Ming Soy when she see little Missee and Mr. Tommee Blenson +she bleat glong.' If I hadn't locked her into the pantry she'd be +beating it yet." She snuggled her arm under her sister's as she asked +again, "Where have you been, Jerry?" + +"I'll tell you all about it, honey, while we are riding home; that is, +if we are going home." With tantalizing daring she looked up at Steve +and asked with exaggerated humility, "Am I to be permitted to return to +the Double O in the care of Bruce--of Mr. Greyson's man, Mr. +Courtlandt?" + +He flushed darkly, but without answering led the way to the big touring +car. The Jap sat behind the wheel in bronze immobility. When Courtlandt +had laid the rug over the knees of the two girls in the back seat he +closed the door and gave Ito his order. + +"Drive Mrs. Courtlandt and Miss Glamorgan to the Double O as quickly as +you can with safety. Jerry, in some way get word to Gerrish that I need +him at Slippy Bend as soon as he can get here. I'll try 'phoning from +the hotel as well; the lines may be in order now." + +"Aren't you coming with us, Steve?" Peggy's tone was aggrieved. + +"No. I have Blue Devil here; I'll ride out. Good-night!" + +He watched the red light on the departing automobile until it became a +mere spark in the distance. Then he returned to the train. He was still +puzzling over the message Greyson had tried to get to Benson when Nelson +hailed him. He was near the step of the last car. + +"Oh, Steve, get a hustle on! I've been waiting for you." Then as +Courtlandt stood beside him he added in a grave voice, "It's about +Denbigh. When we lifted him he--he went out like a candle. Never saw +anything like it. They've taken the--him to the hotel. You'll have to +notify the authorities, Steve. Simms shot him, and I hope they make that +surly brute pay the piper. I'll give my testimony when they want it. Now +I must get on with this train." He sprang to the step of the car and +seized the rail. Brakeman and conductors stood rigidly awaiting his +signal. Courtlandt stepped back. + +"Just a minute, Steve! Lord, I almost forgot to tell you. There is just +one glint of humor in this infernally tragic night. It seems that +Lochinvar is Greyson of the X Y Z ranch. Don't know where that is; +perhaps you do. His lady friend got the dope about this hold-up, too. +She rode to his place for help and the two flivvered down the track to +stop the train, she standing on the seat grabbing his hair with one hand +while with the other she waved that fool lantern. Can't you see the +picture? I'll say she's some little sport." + +"But--but the elopement?" + +"Lord-ee, Steve, don't take this whole rotten business so to heart. +You're livid. That elopement stuff is the glint. The girl had been told +that there were traitors on the train. She knew Greyson's reason for +flagging it mustn't be suspected; just there the elopement excuse +flashed into her mind. Said she reckoned that elopers were the only +people who would do such a fool stunt. She told the maid about it after +things had quieted down. I'll say she's a peacherino. If I hadn't a +perfectly good wife at home she could have me. Happen to know who she +is?" + +"Yes. I happen to know. She is--she is Mrs. Stephen Courtlandt." Nelson +almost fell off the step. + +"For the love of Mike! I don't wonder you're white. She--she was so +darned convincing." With a chuckle he swung forward and gave the signal +to the waiting crew. In a fairly successful imitation of Jerry's voice +he called softly: + +"Go on, Mr. Brakeman. We--we want to get to the coast." + +As he made his way along the street in the starlight Courtlandt felt as +though he were traveling with his double. It was as if his shadow had +suddenly developed a mind which occupied itself exclusively with +thoughts of Jerry, leaving his own brain free to concentrate on the +business ahead. In a spirit of detachment he turned over and over her +reason for the elopement announcement, pictured her ride, her furious +indignation when the flesh and blood Steve had held her in his arms. +There was nothing shadowy in Courtlandt's reaction to that memory. + +The foyer of the small, ramshackle hotel was filled with men, tobacco +smoke, and the hum and buzz of excited voices, all but the space near +one closed door. When they looked in that direction men spoke in +whispers, many of them dragged off their hats. It was as if the +insensate wood had an aura of mystery and tragedy into which no person +in the room cared or dared penetrate. Greyson was the first person to +whom Courtlandt spoke. + +"Bruce--I know now----" With a smile the elder laid his hand on the +younger man's shoulder. + +"Forget it, Steve. Had I been in your place I couldn't have carried off +the situation as well, I am glad that I stand exonerated of that +unspeakable treachery. I--I only hope that later when you learn----" he +cleared his throat and went on irrelevantly, "Who's to tell Mrs. Denbigh +about her husband? After all, he was her husband. You were his friend. +She'll take it better from you, Steve." + +A furious protest rose to Courtlandt's lips but he looked at the closed +door and answered instead: + +"Somebody's got to do it. I'll ride over to the X Y Z in the morning. +There is no use in consulting her about any of the arrangements here. +Has anyone wired Denbigh's mother for instructions?" + +"No, we waited for you. You'd better get her on long distance. A train +goes East at two A. M." + +"I understand. While I'm doing that try to get the Double O on the +'phone, will you? Tell them to get Gerrish here as soon as possible." + +"I will. The sheriff wants to see you at the jail when you can manage +it. He's sent a posse after Ranlett. He's in or near that shack in +Buzzard's Hollow, that is, he was." + +"He's there, all right. I signaled with the rockets as Phil directed. He +may be getting a little uneasy at the non-arrival of his bad men by +this time though. How the dickens did you know about it?" + +"Beechy put a bullet into his leg. Jerry will tell you----" + +"Beechy and Jerry!" + +"Don't look like that, Steve. Jerry is safe and Beechy has made good, +gloriously good. Get the little girl to tell you about it. She--she's a +wonder! Meantime the sheriff waits. He wants to talk to you about Simms. +There can be no doubt that he shot Denbigh. He wants your deposition. +Perhaps it is a cold-blooded way to look at it, but I can't help +thinking that with Simms out of the way his wife and kids will have a +chance at real living. That's an awful indictment of a man, isn't it?" + +It was morning when Courtlandt dismounted in the corral of the Double O. +Slowman hurried up to take Blue Devil. The two men talked in low tones +while dawn streaked the sky in rosy peaks and the stars paled. The grass +glittered with diamond-like dew, the fairies had spread their squares of +gossamer everywhere. The boys had come in with the shorthorns, the +corral boss reported, not one missing. The outfit had got news of the +affair at Devil's Hold-up and were fit to tie that they hadn't had a +chance to clean up Ranlett and his gang. + +After the turmoil of the last few hours the ranch-house seemed weirdly +quiet as Courtlandt entered the living-room. The night air had been keen +and a few coals, like observant red eyes, glowed at him from the hearth. +Scherherazade, the white Persian cat, occupied the wing-chair. She +opened her topaz eyes wide as Steve approached the mantel; she watched +unblinkingly as he laid his arms upon it and looked up at the portrait +above him. He spoke softly as though he and the smiling woman were +comrades and confidants. + +"They said that Phil went out like a candle, Mother. Where did he go? +Where are you? It can't be the end. If it were I shouldn't feel as +though you were with me wherever I am. Was I a brute to Jerry? Will she +ever forgive me? Would you if you were in her place?" The tender eyes +must have reassured him for with a husky, "Good-night, Betty Fairfax!" +he straightened his shoulders and turned away. For an instant he stood +looking across the room. As he went toward his own door he whistled +softly his favorite "Papillions." Scherherazade craned her ruffed white +neck to follow the sound, her eyes narrowed to ruby slits. The coals on +the hearth crumbled and fell. She sprang to the back of the chair and +listened. Across the room a door had latched softly. + +Out in Buzzard's Hollow a white-faced, haggard-eyed man was turning over +his three prisoners to the deputy sheriff. Overhead a great bird hung +motionless for an instant as it glared down at the curious creature with +mammoth outspread wings that lay below. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Breakfast in the court was a late affair the morning after the hold-up. +Steve did not appear. Tommy had given Jerry a sketchy account of his +adventure of the night before, minimizing his part in it. Ming Soy +hovered about the table with what, in an Occidental, would be tearful +devotion. The world was as clean and fresh and sweet as wind and rain +and sunshine could make it. Faintly from the corral came the voices of +riders coming and going; the skip and cough and stutter of tractors +drifted in on the breeze. Benito, with much fluttering and shivering and +croaking, was taking his matutinal plunge in the basin of the fountain. +Goober lay beside Jerry's chair, his tawny eyes fixed unblinkingly on +the parrot, his tongue hanging, his white teeth gleaming. + +The girl, in a pink and white frock that suggested the daintiness of +morning-glories, had been absorbed in the thoughts induced by Tommy's +story. It was some time before she became conscious of the obstinate +silence maintained by the usually talkative Peg, who was a bit more +bewilderingly lovely than ever in a frock just a trifle less blue than +the sky above her. Benson was tenderly solicitous of her comfort. Would +she have more honey? Hopi Soy had broken his own record with the +waffles; sure she wouldn't have one? Peg answered his questions with an +indifferent shake of her head. Jerry observed the two in silence for a +few moments before she protested: + +"Don't grovel, Tommy. I don't know what you've done to displease her +royal highness, but knowing you as I do I am sure that it was nothing to +warrant such rudeness. 'Fess up, children, what has happened? 'Who first +bred strife between the chiefs that they should thus contend?'" she +quoted gayly. "That is worthy even of you, Tommy." + +"You may think it's funny, Jerry," flared Peg indignantly. "But if you +had been--been----" + +"Say it! Tell the gentlemen of the jury just what happened, Miss +Glamorgan," prompted Benson in a judicial tone and with a glint in his +blue eyes. "You won't?" as the girl responded only with a glance of +superb scorn. "Then I will." He disregarded her startled, "Don't dare!" +and announced, "I--I kissed her yesterday, Mrs. Steve." + +"I won't stay to hear!" + +"Yes, you will!" He caught Peggy gently but firmly by the shoulders. He +stood behind her as he explained. "You see--I want--I intend to marry +your sister, Mrs. Steve. Yesterday I staked my claim. I kissed her +once." + +"Hmp! Squatter rights!" interpolated Peggy angrily. + +"Only once! Are you--sure, Tommy?" Jerry's voice was grave but there was +a traitorous quiver of her vivid lips as she asked the question. + +"Only once, on honor. I told her that I should never do it again until +she gave me permission. I meant it. I know that she is young. I expect +to wait until----" + +Peggy twisted herself free from the restraining hands on her shoulders. +Half-way across the court she turned. Her hazel eyes were brilliant with +laughter, her lips curved tormentingly as she flouted the two at the +table. + +"I--I hate--quitters!" she flung at Benson before she disappeared in the +path which led to the office. Tommy followed her with his eyes, then +turned to Jerry. + +"I always watch where my ball falls so that I can find it quickly," he +explained. The assurance had drained from his voice when he asked, +"What--what do you think of my pronunciamento? Will your father stand +for it, Mrs. Steve?" + +"If you and Peg decide that you really care for one another he will have +to," encouraged Jerry gravely. + +"Peg has told me how he feels about family. Mine is the finest ever--but +we don't date back to Colonial days on this continent. I suppose that we +must have existed somewhere before we came to this country, we couldn't +have been prestidigitated out of the everywhere into the here, could we? +There is plenty of money behind us but--but that angel girl thinks I'm +poor." + +"Don't enlighten her. Let her think so--it may--make her kinder. When +the time comes I'll talk with Dad. I'm with you heart and soul, Tommy, +but I am afraid you have a long road to travel before Peg says 'Yes.'" + +"You are wasting your sympathy. 'I scorn to change my state with +kings!'" he declaimed dramatically before he disappeared into the path +which had swallowed up Peggy. + +Jerry rested her elbows on the table, her chin on her clasped hands, and +gazed thoughtfully after him. Subconsciously she noted the sound of +horses' hoofs on the hard road in front of the house. Who was arriving +at ten o'clock in the morning, she wondered idly before she returned to +thoughts of Peg and Tommy. She sat motionless for so long that Goober +rose, stretched and poked his cold nose under her hands. She stroked his +head gently. + +"Where is your master?" she whispered into one of his big ears. The dog +shook his head, sneezed violently and looked up, his eyes eloquent with +reproach. "Did it tickle? I'm sorry." She reached for a lump of sugar in +the squatty Dutch silver bowl. "If you could say please----" Goober rose +on his hind feet, dangled his crossed forepaws and with head on one side +avidly regarded the enticing white morsel in the girl's fingers. He gave +a short, sharp bark. She tossed him the sugar which he crunched between +his strong teeth. She patted his head. "Do you know, Goober, I think +that any dog is more interesting than the average human. Wait for me. +I'll get my hat and we'll take Patches a lump of sugar." + +Obediently the dog took up his position beside her chair. Humming +lightly Jerry went toward the house. What a glorious morning. The +nightmare of yesterday already seemed like an impossible dream. Some day +she would explain that elopement business to Steve and they would laugh +about it together. She caught her breath as a vision of his face as he +had held her in his arms crowded itself into her mind. She raced up the +court steps to elude her clamorous thoughts. At the door of the +living-room she stopped as though galvanized. She brushed her hand +impatiently across her eyes. Coming into the shadowy room from the +gleaming world outside certainly did queer things to one's vision. +That--that couldn't be Steve with a woman's arm about his neck! There +was an inarticulate sound in her throat as she took a step forward. +Courtlandt heard it. With a muttered imprecation he loosened the +clinging arm. His face was white, his eyes inscrutable as they met +Jerry's. + +"Felice, here is Mrs. Courtlandt. I have been telling Mrs. Denbigh of +her husband's----" the woman beside him interrupted. + +"Steve forgets that I haven't had a husband for several years. I confess +the news was a shock. I had no idea that he was in this part of the +country. I suppose that detestable Fairfax man knew it when he suggested +to Bruce Greyson that he invite me here for the summer. Does that +surprise you, Steve?" as Courtlandt stifled an exclamation. + +"If--if I can do anything to help you----" Jerry had produced an apology +for a voice at last. + +"Thank you, no. Steve is all I need. He is such a comfort. Would anyone +but he have had the sympathetic understanding to wait until he thought I +would be awake before coming with such news to the X Y Z? But I came +here to help him. I have had his happiness on my mind since I found this +on the bench outside the door just after Mr. Greyson had received a +mysterious summons." She held out Steve's campaign hat with its black +and gold cord and the band of silver filigree which Jerry had added the +day before. There was malice thinly disguised with solicitude in the +tone in which she added, "Then--then I understood that--that you and he +had gone----" + +"Felice, cut that out! When I want your intervention in my affairs I'll +ask for it," Courtlandt's tone lashed. "Now that you have returned the +hat you may go. Greyson has made arrangements for you to leave on the +east-bound train in the early afternoon. Your maid is packing for you." + +"But why should I go East, Steve? Phil Denbigh is nothing to me, while +you----" her tone was drenched with significance. She looked defiantly +at Jerry who was conscious that she was giving an excellent imitation of +an automaton. Only her eyes felt alive, they burned, and the pulses in +her throat throbbed. She knew that if she opened her lips it would be to +hurl words at Felice of which she would be utterly ashamed later, that +if she unclenched her hands it would be to strike the mocking woman. She +was terrified at the tumult which shook her. Without a glance toward the +two near the window she crossed the room, entered her boudoir and closed +the door behind her. She leaned against it and listened. She heard the +front door close, footsteps on the porch, voices, then the sound of +horse's hoofs. They had gone! + +With the realization, something inside her seemed to crash. The barrier +of ice which she had erected between her heart and Steve was swept away +in a surge of passionate emotion. She knew now why she had been so +terrified last night when she had heard that a man had been wounded, she +had feared it might be Steve; why she had been so furiously angry at +Felice; why it had hurt so intolerably to see her in Steve's arms. It +wasn't because she thought him false and untrue--it was because she +loved him. + +With confused consciousness that she must escape from her own thoughts +she ran into the living-room. She and Goober would take that sugar to +Patches and then----The smiling, tender eyes of the portrait over the +fireplace drew her like a magnet. She crossed her arms on the mantel and +smiled back at them, valiantly. + +"Mother dear----" she implored breathlessly. "Mother!" + +Comforted in some inexplicable way she dropped her head on her arms. In +retrospect she went back to that evening in her father's apartment when +she and Steve had entered into their matrimonial engagement. He had +staked his future for money, she for social advancement. Old Nick had +been right. How could a man love or respect a girl who would marry for +position? Now that Felice was really free, not merely legally free, +would Steve----Absorbed in her thoughts she was conscious of nothing in +the room till Courtlandt's voice behind her announced authoritatively: + +"I have something to say to you, Jerry." + +To the girl's taut nerves it was the voice of the conqueror laying down +terms of surrender and clemency. In a flash she was back in the library +of the Manor, hearing Steve's cool, determined voice announce, "I shall +consider myself in a position to dictate terms to one member of the +family." If he had meant separation then, what would he mean now with +her silly elopement declaration of the night before to infuriate him? +Was he about to reproach her again for that? Felice had supplied the +last shred of evidence he needed when she produced the hat, if he needed +more than her own statement to the brakeman to convict her. Her anger +flamed. He shouldn't get a chance to indict her. To put one's opponent +on the defense meant strategic advantage. Before he could speak she +fended: + +"You can't reproach me for last night, Steve, after--after what I saw +when I came into this room. Honors are even," flippantly. + +He caught her by the shoulders and looked steadily into her angry eyes. +They met his defiantly. His voice was grave as he probed: + +"After last night and--and this morning, Jerry, do you still--still want +to go on with it?" + +"Go on with it? Do you--you mean our comedy of marriage? Why not? +'Rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of.' +You see I have contracted Tommy's pernicious habit of borrowing from the +classics when I wish to express myself with force and distinction. Let +me go!" + +Courtlandt's grip on her shoulders tightened. His face was white. There +was a rigidity about his jaws which should have warned her. + +"Flippancy won't save you. You are to listen to me now, girl." + +"While you boast to me again as you did last night that you had not made +love to another woman? Not a chance!" she twisted away from him and +gained the threshold of her own room. "Don't--don't let me keep you from +your alluring--friend," she flung back at him before she closed and +locked her door on the inside with grating emphasis. + +Then she listened with hands clasped tight over her heart. The anger +which was so foreign to her character had been a mere flash in the pan. +Already she was sorry and humiliated and ashamed. She had maintained +always that a girl who could not keep her temper, who wrangled, belonged +in the quarter where shrewish women, with shawls over their heads and +forlorn little babies forever under their feet, fought and brawled. +Hadn't she seen them in her childhood? And she--she who thought herself +superior hadn't been much better under the skin. She could have +scratched Felice's eyes out and as for Steve---- + +Where was he now? The living-room was portentously still. Had he gone? +Why couldn't she have listened to his explanation, have assumed a +friendliness which this new, disturbing riot in her veins made +impossible as a reality? Her eyes which still smarted with unshed tears +traveled round the dainty, chintz-hung boudoir. In a detached way she +noted that the one picture on the wall, which served as the key-note to +the color scheme of the room, needed straightening. She must speak to +Ming Soy----Her heart hopped to her throat, then did a tail-spin to her +toes as a low, stern voice outside her room commanded: + +"Open the door, Jerry." + +She stood rigid, motionless. + +"Open the door!" there was an undercurrent in Courtlandt's words which +seemed to paralyze her muscles. In a voice the more compelling because +of its repression he threatened, "If you don't open it at once--I'll +break it in!" The shake he gave the barrier between them broke the spell +which held the girl. She turned the key and flung open the door. + +With a sudden fierce movement he caught her hands. She had a confused +sense of flinging herself against an inflexible, determined will as she +struggled to free them. She met his steady, dominant eyes. + +"Steve! What--what rank melodrama! Are you qualifying for the movies?" +she essayed a nonchalant tone which to her hypercritical senses seemed +horribly frightened. "What--what do you want?" + +"That door open. Nothing else--now," Courtlandt answered as he dropped +her hands and turned away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +"What shall we do this afternoon, Jerry?" Peggy Glamorgan asked as she, +her sister and Benson sat at luncheon three hours later. The table was +spread on the broad, shadowy veranda on the north side of the +ranch-house. The sun beat down upon fields and white roads; insects +droned lazily to the accompaniment of the faint roar of the stream +swollen by the heavy rain of the night before. "Ye gods! If here isn't +Abdul the Great," she mocked saucily as Courtlandt appeared at the door. +"Are his humble slaves to be honored with his presence at the noonday +meal? Allah, oh Allah! Jerry, aren't you overwhelmed at this tribute to +our charms?" + +"Can't a man lunch beneath his own vine and fig tree without creating a +panic? From now on I shall make it a daily rite that you may get used to +it," Steve laughed. He laid his hand on Benson's shoulder. "Tommy, +you're a hero. Slippy Bend is agog with admiration. What the populace +can't think of to say in praise of you the deputy sheriff supplies in +the most colorful vernacular the locality produces. Don't run; I won't +say any more," as Benson, fiery red, half rose from his chair. Steve +seated himself opposite Jerry. + +She observed him resentfully from behind a screen of lashes. He looked +more care-free and debonair than she had ever seen him while her heart +still contracted suffocatingly at any thought of the morning. It was +just like a man, nothing went deep, she thought. Ming Soy fluttered +about in devoted anticipation of his needs; Peggy poured cream into his +tea with a lavish hand. Benson laughed. + +"You're a master tactician, old dear. You let your light shine upon us +but seldom and behold the devotion when you do appear. Alas, 'Maidens, +like moths, are ever caught by glare.' I'll say your beatific expression +would put the twinkle-twinkle-little-star effect out of business. Got a +load off your mind, haven't you? Slowman tells me that the Shorthorns +are back to a hoof, that our temperamental late manager is being +securely, if not luxuriously accommodated with quarters in the jail and +that--that Mrs. Denbigh is en route to the effete East via Slippy Bend. +Is my information correct?" He stole a surreptitious glance at Jerry +who, with the aid of a pink-tipped finger, was nonchalantly sailing rose +petal boats on the sea of her crystal finger-bowl. + +"It is. The tangle of the last few months is straightening out. From +now on I'll subscribe to that bit of philosophy of Doc Rand's, 'Things +have a marvelous, unbelievable way of coming right.' The late +unpleasantness has resulted in one thing: we have an all-American outfit +on the Double O ranch on whose honor I'd stake my last dollar. They may +come of varied and contending races but when it comes to ideals of +service and loyalty to the nation, they're united. Next week I'm going +to Uncle Nick's camp in the mountains to inspect the silver mine, and +incidentally to fish. There is a lake there where the trout are so thick +they form bread-lines to get a chance at the bait." + +"You tell 'em!" jeered Benson. + +"It's a fact. I want to shake the memory of the last two months, to get +away so that I can come back and make a fresh start. I'll leave you in +charge of the ranch, Tommy." + +"'When Caesar says, "Do this," it is performed.'" + +"What's on for this afternoon? Let's do something. I want to get +yesterday out of my mind." + +"Miss Glamorgan and I thought--I thought--that if you didn't need me, +we'd ride over to Buzzard's Hollow; that spot seems to be occupying +stage center now. I'll personally conduct you and Mrs. Steve over the +abandoned aeroplane if you'll mosey along with us." + +Jerry tried to control a shudder. She wondered if she could ever again +hear the name of the hollow without seeing a close-up of Beechy and +Ranlett and that mutilated calf. She sensed Courtlandt's quick look at +her and answered hurriedly: + +"Don't count me in. I shan't ride again until--until I have forgotten +the hours I spent in the saddle yesterday. Buzzard's Hollow as an +objective leaves me cold. If no one else wants the roadster I shall +drive over to the B C to inquire for Mrs. Carey. Mother Eagan may allow +me to see the baby." + +Jerry could have cheerfully bitten out her too confiding tongue when an +hour later she found Steve waiting beside the roadster at the front +door. He had changed from his usual riding togs to sport clothes. He +reddened under her surprised eyes. + +"Have you gone saddle shy too?" she asked flippantly to conceal her +frightened suspicion that he was going with her. + +"No, but I must see Beechy and as you were going to Bear Creek I thought +we'd go along together." + +"But--I--would rather----" + +"Get in, please. It will take time to get to the B C by the road in this +car, which is far from being the last word in speed-limit violators." + +With teeth set in her lips to steady them Jerry stepped into the +roadster. What motive was back of Steve's decision to accompany her, she +wondered, as the car shot smoothly ahead under his skilful driving. She +regarded him covertly from under the brim of her rose-colored hat. He +was gazing straight ahead, his brows knit in a slight frown. The silence +between them seemed heavy with portent. She must say something. From far +off came a faint whistle. + +"Is that the east-bound train?" she asked and then wished fervently that +she hadn't. + +"Yes. Just pulling out of Slippy Bend. Felice is on it. Jerry, I want +you to understand that the situation you stumbled on this morning was +merely some of her theatrical clap-trap. When I told her about Phil she +flung herself into my arms and pretended to be overcome." + +"Don't apologize," the girl mocked, then as she caught a dangerous gleam +in his eyes she abandoned thin ice. "Has Mr. Denbigh----" + +"I got Phil's mother on long distance soon after midnight. Gerrish took +him--went East in the early morning." + +"Was he a dear friend of yours?" + +"No. He was in my class at college but he was always aloof, unfriendly. +While the rest of us were in athletics he was devoting himself to his +violin. We thought him indifferent but I understand now that his +position had corroded his sensitive heart." + +"Position? Wasn't he of the elect?" + +"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Jerry. Phil's father and mother were among +the great army of incompatibles. His heritage of misery as the child of +divorced parents, tossed back and forth between their habitations, +ruined his life but--but he made royally good at the last, poor chap." + +Jerry blinked furiously to rid her eyes of the tears which had flooded +them at his tone. They rode on in silence. The road ran through the +fragrant, chill quiet of dense pines, which creaked and swayed a +mournful note in the slight breeze. When they emerged into the +willow-fringed, sun dappled road again Courtlandt spoke. + +"I want you to tell me everything that happened yesterday, Jerry. I--I +know now that that elopement stuff was all a bluff but--but it was an +infernally dangerous one. It was lucky for Greyson that an interest +bigger than any individual was concerned in last night's work +or--forgive me for my lack of faith and tell me what happened, won't +you, girl?" + +Jerry snatched at her stampeding composure and dragged it back. Her +answer was tantalizingly slow. + +"That 'won't you' was a master stroke of diplomacy. Machiavellian, I +call it. Had you demanded an explanation I wouldn't have given it. Where +shall I commence?" She saw him stiffen at her levity but he had his +voice well in hand as he answered: + +"At the beginning." + +"Only on condition that there are no interruptions." + +"Then be merciful and tell your story quickly." + +Jerry began the recital of her adventures with her determination to +amuse Peggy. She forgot herself, she was quite unconscious of the +unevenness of Courtlandt's driving as the story unrolled of its own +momentum. He did not interrupt with words but at times the car shot +forward as though propelled by a furious impulse. They passed Jim Carey +herding some lank-bodied, big-kneed calves before him. He waved and +shouted a greeting. As they entered the cottonwoods by the Bear Creek +corral Jerry described the culmination of the wild ride on the track, +her stunned amazement when she had heard Steve's furious exclamation +behind her. Her voice was traitorously unsteady as she added: + +"'O ye of little faith!' Even when I saw you there, knew that you had +heard my explanation, I--I thought that--that somehow you would +understand." + +"Why would I? You had told me that you had been engaged to Greyson. You +never can tell what a man will do when he is mad about a woman, when he +loves her crown of shining hair, her eyes, her smile, the--the tip of +her bare pink foot." Memory sent a surge of red to his face. He brought +the car to a stop in front of the shack. Beechy, his face white, his +hair redder and more rampant than ever, called eagerly from the open +window at which he sat bolstered up in a chair. + +"Wait for me at the house. I shan't be long." + +Jerry nodded dumbly, and drove on. Courtlandt's words had set her heart +beating a furious call to arms. What had he meant? Who was mad about a +woman? He or Greyson? Whose bare pink foot? Involuntarily she tucked one +suede shoe under her, her cheeks flushed warmly. He--he couldn't have +meant her. + +In the living-room of the cabin Jerry held the cocoon of soft flannel, +which in turn held the Carey baby, in her arms. She laid her soft cheek +against his. + +"Isn't--isn't he the dearest!" she crooned as she felt the sweet warm +thrill of his satin-soft skin against her face. Doc Rand, before the +fireplace, flapping his long black coat-tails in time to his +heel-and-toe teeter, blinked at her through lenses which had become +unaccountably misty. His russet-apple face showed a new set of lines. + +"I--I am so glad that he arrived safely," Jerry observed innocently, +punctuating the words with cooing sounds directed at the crease in the +baby's neck. Indignation at the possible slur on his professional skill +served as a safety valve for Rand's emotion which had been so +unaccountably stirred by the sight of the lovely girl with the child in +her arms. He had seen the same thing unmoved hundreds of times before, a +woman with her face snuggled against a baby's. + +"Arrived safely! Why shouldn't he arrive safely in a home like this? +Take it from me, the Almighty's going to pick his mothers carefully from +now on. He's just had a demonstration of what ought not to happen in +poor Denbigh's case. He'll find a way to make women realize what a great +and glorious privilege it is to be the mother of an American citizen." + +"Of either sex?" probed the girl mischievously. + +"You've said it. The female of the species has got to take her share in +the responsibility of the government. If we have another war, God grant +we don't, the young women will be drafted to work, just as the men will +to fight. There'll be no feminine slackers infesting the neighborhoods +of the camps next time." + +"Hear! Hear!" applauded a low voice from the door. Doc Rand beamed at +the newcomer paternally. + +"Steve, you scoffer, come in! Take a look at what your wife has in that +bundle." + +Jerry wished passionately that she were a thousand miles away when Steve +loomed over her but she didn't intend to let him suspect it. She pulled +away the soft blanket that he could see better and challenged +breathlessly: + +"Isn't he a sweetie peach?" + +"Isn't he--it--very red?" Courtlandt stammered in honest embarrassment +that he could not conscientiously voice a paean of praise of the beauty +of the Carey heir. Doc Rand indulged in a denatured guffaw. + +"Lord-ee, Steve, your mental propeller showered sparks of originality +that time, didn't it? The baby isn't appreciated here; you'd better take +him back to his mother, Mrs. Eagan," as the nurse, beaming with +full-moon effulgence, entered the room. Jerry smiled up at the portly +woman as she laid the little bundle in her arms. + +"Give my love to Mrs. Carey and tell her that he is the loveliest baby I +ever saw," she whispered eagerly. + +"What do you think about Beechy, Doc?" Courtlandt asked as Mrs. Eagan +left the room. + +"He'll pull through now that he has eased his conscience by confession. +I had to let him talk and unburden his mind before I could heal his +body." + +"I've just come from the shack. Carl told me that if--it hadn't been for +Denbigh he would have been in on that deal last night." + +"Yes, Steve, but Beechy was out of the hold-up for good when he found +that it was government money they were after. He was prepared to take +what was coming to him for quitting; he knew mighty well that a man +couldn't double-cross Ranlett and--and live, that is, not if the Skunk +knew it. He knows now that Denbigh saved him. Beechy isn't bad at +heart. He and a lot of others like him are suffering from an acute +attack of disillusionment, that's all. They'd been fed up on +'Hail-to-the-conquering-hero' stuff and when the shouting was over and +they spent weary months in hospital forgotten by the world at large, and +in particular by that female portion of it that had fed them, written to +them, married them during the war, do you wonder that they were ready +for any deviltry that was afoot? I don't. But you see, in spite of his +loud talk, when Beechy came slam up against the proposition of +defrauding his government, ungrateful government that he thought it, +there was nothing doing. He couldn't get away with it. He'll never be +able to do much hard work, but there must be a place for him." + +"A place for him! If he ever escapes my clutches again he's more +slippery than I think him." + +"Go to it, Steve! Even you and I salaam when he speaks in that tone, +don't we, Mrs. Jerry?" + +The sun had dropped behind the mountains; fields and foot-hills lay +luminous and still as Courtlandt drove the roadster past the corral at +the Double O. A bunch of horses was being turned into the pastures for +the night feed. They nipped, they kicked, they rolled. The riders who +were driving them out tolerated their antics patiently, with an +occasional admonitory "Hi-yew!" Jerry turned to look after them. + +"I wish Peg could have seen that. In this light, in their broad-brimmed +hats, their colored neckerchiefs, their gloves, their costumes are +picturesque. They would have satisfied even her craving for local +color." + +Courtlandt drove on to the ranch-house without answering. It had been a +silent ride home. Jerry had been tensely apprehensive of what might be +coming when they started, but as the man beside her drove steadily with +only an occasional inquiry as to her comfort, she had relaxed and +allowed her thoughts to drift. + +Steve followed her into the living-room. As she opened the door of her +boudoir he spoke from where he stood under his mother's portrait. + +"Come here, Jerry! Please----" he added with a smile as she hesitated. + +"I must dress for dinner. I----" + +"There is plenty of time. I want to talk to you. Come here!" As a safe +and sane compromise she took refuge behind the back of the wing-chair. + +"Well?" she queried defensively. + +With startling suddenness he caught her hands and drew her to the hearth +beside him. + +"That's better! I can't talk to you when you are so far away." His grip +on her hands tightened. "Jerry, do you remember that day at the Manor +when Uncle Nick's will was read? You----" + +"The--the day we decided to make the detour? It--it has proved an +adventure, hasn't it?" she interrupted in a breathless attempt to gain +time. Courtlandt ignored the question. + +"You asked me if I wanted his fortune. Do you also remember my answer?" +Then as with downcast cast eyes she nodded assent, he repeated, "'More I +ever wanted anything, except one, in my life.' You thought that that one +thing was Felice and I--I let you think so. I meant you, Jerry. No, you +can't go, you've got to listen now. We've been playing at cross purposes +long enough. I wanted Uncle Nick's money because I wanted to be rid of +the humiliating load of obligation we Courtlandts had shouldered. I +wanted to meet you on equal terms. I loved you the first time I saw you +in your shimmering orchid gown with the great fan which you wielded with +the air of an empress. Who was I to tell you so? You wouldn't have +believed me, you would have despised me as a hypocrite. I had no money, +nothing but debts to offer you. But if I hadn't loved you nothing could +have forced me, nothing could have tempted me to ask you to marry me. On +the way in to meet you that first night, I promised Sir Peter that if in +any way you were repellent to me, I would let your father take +possession of our property. I--I--well, I had to bluff some to my father +going home to cover my bowled-over condition. I don't ask for anything +now, I only want a promise that you won't close your heart against +me--that you will--oh, what's the use--you must love me!" + +The girl looked down upon the head pressed against her hands then up at +the tender eyes of the woman above the mantel. Were they misted or were +there tears in her own eyes? She choked back a sound that was half +laugh, half sob as she observed with tantalizing charm: + +"Of course when you say 'must,' O Abdul the Great----" Before she could +finish the sentence Steve had her crushed in his arms. + +"It's your own fault, Mr. Tommy Benson. I told you that I shouldn't----" + +It was Peggy's voice at the door. In breathless haste Jerry freed +herself from Courtlandt's arms. He caught her hands and drew her back. +His voice was tenderly exultant, his eyes disconcertingly possessive as +he reminded huskily: + +"About that honeymoon I promised to show you, Mrs. Courtlandt----Can I +interest you in a silver mine?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +The two men were in striking contrast. Glamorgan, massive, shrewd-eyed, +of big affairs and world interests and Peter Courtlandt patrician, +dreamy-eyed, who dwelt largely in the realm of books and art, were +smoking on the terrace of the Manor. They could look down the +box-bordered paths of the garden to where stone steps led to a small +landing on the shore of the river. A tender swung at its moorings. +Motor-boats and steam-boats plied busily back and forth on the water +which rippled into scales of gold. From a man-o'-war anchored +down-stream came the sound of a ship's band. The sun was setting with +lavish prodigality of color, spreading great swaths of crimson and gold +and violet above the hills. One steady brilliant star shone in the west. +From the garden drifted the scent of heliotrope. The light breeze +stirred the awning over the terrace, gently lifted the soft rings of +white hair on Peter Courtlandt's head, impertinently flicked the sheets +of the letter Glamorgan held. + +Courtlandt withdrew his eyes from the river and looked at his guest. +The large man was smiling broadly, at his thoughts, doubtless, as his +eyes were fixed unseeingly on the star. His host suddenly remembered +that he had not seen the oil-king smile like that since Jerry and Steve +had left the Manor; he had appeared like a man spiritually burdened. +Could his furious indignation because his daughter had gone West with +her husband have accounted for his gravity? Courtlandt tossed the +remains of his cigar over the terrace wall and addressed his companion. + +"You said that you had a letter to read to me," he suggested. +Glamorgan's eyes flashed to his--was there a hint of tears in them?--the +smile on his lips spread and spread until his host was reminded of the +moon in all the glory of its fullness. He laughed in sympathy. "It must +be amusing, if one judges by your expression." The oil-king indulged in +a throaty chuckle; it sounded like the delight of a boy in some +satisfactorily accomplished bit of mischief. + +"It isn't the letter which is so amusing, though I'll hand it to Peg +when it comes to expression that has punch, it is what I can read +between the lines. Listen to what she writes and you'll understand." He +settled huge horn-rimmed eye-glasses in place and began to read from the +letter in his hand. + + "DEAR DAD: + + "By this time you must have received my letter about the near + hold-up, _poor_ Mr. Denbigh, Beechy, Tommy (Benson the Bluffer + the outfit call him now) and your she's-a-hero daughter. I + penned that throbbing epistle on the morning after our return + from Slippy Bend when my mind was a red hot molten mass of + _thrills_. Well, to quote Scripture (don't give me the credit + of this, Tommy Benson reeled it off when I expressed amazement + at what was happening and I copied it from the Bible), 'There + be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which + I know not: The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a + serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; + and the way of a man with a maid.' It is that last phrase which + has to do with the situation here. When I first came Steve had + _about_ as much expression in his face when he looked at Jerry + as has that granite civil war veteran in the park at Oil City. + Jerry was as bad. They were the nearest to cold-storage + newly-weds that I had ever seen. Now--ye gods!--when I look up + and see Steve's eyes on Jerry my heart _stampedes_. I feel as + though I had made the unpardonable break of opening a closed + door without knocking. Jerry behaves a little better. She keeps + her eyes to heel but her _voice_---- + + "'The devil hath not in all his quiver's choice an arrow for + the heart like a sweet voice.' Tommy Benson again. He is a more + liberal education than English 27 at College. I asked him if the + lines were Shakespeare or the Bible and he said that a gentleman + named Byron wrote them but that I was _not_ to cultivate his + acquaintance indiscriminately. I have sent east for _all_ of Mr. + Byron's poems. But I digress. + + "To return to Steve and Jerry. They start on a camping trip + to-morrow, up into the wilderness to inspect some silly old + silver mine. Steve has sent Marcelle O'Neil ahead with + packhorses, guns, provisions, and rods. Thank heaven they + didn't ask _me_ to go. I'm to stay at the Double O with Tommy + Benson's mother, who arrived yesterday. She's a stylish-stout + of about fifty with wonderful skin and teeth, eyes that make + you feel you'd like to _drown_ in them they are so like + clear-blue pools; hair like dull gold and a smile--well, I + walked _straight_ into her arms when she turned it on me. + + "I wrote you that Jerry seemed terribly short of money. You + _must_ do something about it. Her Tiffany flame has found an + Alexandrite that she wants. When I told her the price, a + _miserable_ little two thousand dollars, you would have thought + I'd mentioned the amount of the Allied war debt. Why don't you + send her the ring? + + "From my limited observation (there's been something doing + every minute since I set foot on the Double O), I should say + that ranching was a great life when the coyotes didn't steal + your chickens, when the Shorthorns didn't break away, or when a + disgruntled fragment of your outfit didn't shoot up the + neighborhood. Jerry says that she and Steve will spend their + winters at the Manor after they have been here a year, + something to do with Uncle Nick's will, _you_ probably know + about it. Steve will take Tommy Benson into partnership and he + will be manager-in-chief. It's a _great_ chance for Tommy. He + is the poor-man-with-a-future type. He's _super_-sensitive + about his lack of money, though. Bruce Greyson brought a + perfectly _stunning_ man to call the other day, heir to a + fortune. Of course I had to be nice to him. Ye gods! You should + have seen Tommy while he was here. After the plutocrat had + departed I asked him why he had looked as though he could have + crunched mountain lion in the raw. He just _glowered_ and + quoted: + + "'O what a world of vile, ill favoured faults + Looks handsome in three thousand pounds a year.' + + "From my window I can see Sandy's flivver in the distance; that + means that I must wind up this letter--pronto. That carrier is + the _funniest_ sight. He wears a tall white hat and a linen + duster and looks for all the world like the Mad Hatter in + 'Alice.' I almost expect to hear him snap when he sees me + coming, 'Your hair needs cutting,' the way the Hatter does in + the story. _Heaps_ of love, + + "PEG. + + "P.S. Praise be! Careful Cosmetics has departed. That's what I + call the Denbigh woman." + +Glamorgan removed his glasses and threw back his head with a chuckling +laugh. Courtlandt laughed with him. + +"Peggy certainly wields a facile pen. I--I am glad of what she writes +about Steve and Jerry. I confess that I feared----" + +"I want to talk to you about that, Courtlandt," interrupted Glamorgan +eagerly. "It has taken all my strength of will and then some, not to +take you into my confidence but--but I promised your brother-in-law +that----" + +"Nicholas Fairfax!" + +"I don't wonder you are astonished. You see, from the moment I saw him I +fell for him. I'd known a lot of men like him. Chestnut burrs outside +but sound and sweet in their hearts. He must have felt that I understood +him for he hadn't been at the Manor long before he confided his doubts +and hopes to me. Old Nick was keener than you or I. He hadn't been here +twenty-four hours before he had sized up the situation between Jerry and +Steve. He realized that they were heading straight for the matrimonial +reefs where so many of their friends had come to grief. I guess he +realized also that I was a little more anxious for that marriage to turn +out a success than even he was. The Lord only knows the burden of guilt +I would have carried the rest of my life if it hadn't." + +"You wouldn't have been the only one." + +"I know that, Courtlandt. Nick realized that he hadn't long to live. He +felt sure of Jerry's loyalty, that all that was needed to right matters +between the two was to give Steve money and make the girl dependent on +him. He knew the boy well enough to know that his pride would stand +between them as long as Jerry was spending my money. That was where I +came in. He had me cast for the stern parent act. I was to oppose +Jerry's going to the ranch. Opposition, he figured, would steel her +determination to go with her husband, if she was tempted to waver. I +knew my girl better. I knew that she would keep the covenant but I +consented to please Old Nick. I almost caved in the day she went away, +when I saw her watch the gate wistfully until the train started, but I +kept out of sight." + +"Who would have believed to have seen Nick in those last days that he +was planning so shrewdly." + +"That wasn't all he planned. He had the dickens of a time with Greyson. +He wanted him to invite Mrs. Denbigh to the X Y Z for the summer as a +sort of acid test for Steve." + +"What a diabolical idea." + +"I'm not so sure of that. His argument was that if the woman had the +slightest lure for Steve----" + +"But she hadn't," Courtlandt denied sharply. + +"I couldn't see how she could have, but then vamps aren't in my line. +Nick was possessed by the idea. Greyson kicked like a steer against it +but finally gave in. You can't tell. Fairfax may have had other reasons +up his sleeve. Denbigh was at the Bear Creek ranch. He might have +thought, have hoped, that he and Felice would come together again. In +spite of his ill-health and absorption in his ranch, your brother-in-law +was a profound thinker on social and economic questions. I spent hours +arguing with him. He contended that the great weakness of the American +people lay in their lack of stability, that they could be swept along on +a wave of enthusiasm but that when it came to the steady tide of +determination they wouldn't even tread water; that lack of stability was +at the root of the divorce habit, which if it wasn't checked would +insidiously undermine the character of the nation." + +"He was right, but," with a profound sigh of relief, "it looks as though +Jerry and Steve had escaped the reefs, doesn't it?" + +"I'll say it does," with a reminiscent chuckle. "Now you know why I +gloated over that letter of Peg's. The child didn't realize how she was +easing my mind. Do you know, I like what she writes about that Benson +boy. Next to a man with family background I have a deep and abiding +respect for a man who has the best in literature at his tongue's end. +He's a rare bird these days." + +"Then you wouldn't object if Peg and Tommy--he hasn't the kind of family +you want behind him." + +"I don't care who Peggy marries if he is clean and upstanding, with +self-respect and love for my girl. I'm through meddling, though I'm not +sorry for what I did with Jerry. She stood nine chances out of ten of +marrying a fortune-hunter; Steve wasn't that; he had to be forcibly fed +with money. In spite of that fact I haven't drawn an easy breath since +Nick told me his suspicions, until now." He glanced at the letter. "I +think I'll send that Alexandrite as a sort of peace offering." + +"You're too late. Steve wired to me to have it sent." + +"He did! Then you knew all I have been telling you?" + +"No. I only put two and two together when I got Steve's message." + +Glamorgan rose, shook himself like a bear and extended one hand to his +host. His voice was curiously rough as he laid the other on his shoulder +and confided awkwardly: + +"Good-night! I--I hope they'll name the first son Peter, Courtlandt." + +Courtlandt put his free hand on the big man's shoulder. His laugh was +unsteady but his voice was vibrant with feeling as he countered: + +"And I--I hope they'll name the second one--Dan. Good-night." They stood +shaking hands furiously, laughing boyishly, and patting one another's +shoulders as the lights flashed up on the river and night rang down the +curtain of dusk. + + + + +BOOKS BY EMILIE LORING + + + THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT + HERE COMES THE SUN! + A CERTAIN CROSSROAD + THE SOLITARY HORSEMAN + GAY COURAGE + SWIFT WATCH + LIGHTED WINDOWS + FAIR TOMORROW + UNCHARTED SEAS + HILLTOPS CLEAR + WE RIDE THE GALE! + WITH BANNERS + IT'S A GREAT WORLD + GIVE ME ONE SUMMER + AS LONG AS I LIVE + TODAY IS YOURS + HIGH OF HEART + ACROSS THE YEARS + THERE IS ALWAYS LOVE + WHERE BEAUTY DWELLS + STARS IN YOUR EYES + RAINBOW AT DUSK + WHEN HEARTS ARE LIGHT AGAIN + KEEPERS OF THE FAITH + BEYOND THE SOUND OF GUNS + BRIGHT SKIES + BECKONING TRAILS + I HEAR ADVENTURE CALLING + LOVE CAME LAUGHING BY + TO LOVE AND TO HONOR + FOR ALL YOUR LIFE + MY DEAREST LOVE + I TAKE THIS MAN + THE SHADOW OF SUSPICION + WHAT THEN IS LOVE + LOOK TO THE STARS + BEHIND THE CLOUD + WITH THIS RING + HOW CAN THE HEART FORGET + THROW WIDE THE DOOR + FOLLOW YOUR HEART + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT*** + + +******* This file should be named 34129.txt or 34129.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/4/1/2/34129 + + + +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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